In the depths of space, ancient machines whir to life. A signal has been received, written in a language of code that only the Gateways know, that says: Come back. And they do. From one end of the Galaxy to the other, overlooking worlds of deep ocean or alien jungle, they come back. First with a spark, a wavering in space- and then a flash of blinding light and heat, a storm in the void, a celestial crescendo like a sun being born. And then only a steady light. Billions of lifeforms witness it. They wonder for a moment, perhaps, but then they go back to their lives, not knowing that over their heads now sits a portal to countless other worlds.



There is a new star in the sky, and only one man cannot see it.

That man is a revelator and, though he is a priest, he is practical. His temple is made of hard white stone, which stands out starkly in the half-darkness of this part of Acerbus, close enough to the Night that the stars shine overhead faintly. It’s a large, rich temple, politically important- he cares about that more than he does spiritual matters.

He is performing a ritual, the Third Birthing Remembrance, an overcomplicated affair which supposedly represents mankind’s journey from Earth to Acerbus. Revelator Andrea does his job dutifully, but internally he scoffs at it. His theology is the same as his mindset: grounded, skeptical, a religion with all of the fluff taken out of it.

Unlike the stereotypical revelator, Andrea is not a man of the supernatural or other flights of fancy. He scorns the sacrosanct myths the others hold to so strongly as “only metaphors,” and delights in the scandalized reactions of his fellow clergy when he tells them so. He did not choose to be a priest, he was raised in it. He would doubt the existence of Earth itself if the evidence for it wasn't so great. Everything about that old story of humans blazing across the cosmos in the wake of a dying world sounds like the kind of tale a storyteller would come up with three smokes in. He supposes it must be true, but with a suspicion that it’s all been rewritten by his more myth-minded peers.

This is ridiculous, a voice in the back of his mind complains, as he carries out the ritual. First he was burning incense and letting the smoke smudge up the open stone courtyard, now he is lifting his hands and scattering dirt on the ground. He does it all mechanically, routinely- he has done it countless times before and it is mandatory, but this time in particular he starts to sense something… off. It is a few moments, in which he stands with his hands held high, before he notices: the worshippers aren’t looking at him. This is both strange and a little upsetting. They’re leaning over to each other and whispering, they’re staring up into the sky with slack jaws and looks of awe- they’re not looking at him. He raises his arms a little higher. But the congregation does not notice, their gaze is at something over his head, in that faintly starred sky.

When he turns to look, it takes him no time at all to see it.

There’s a new light in the sky, outshining the stars. It sits right above the peak of the temple, bright and burning and reminiscent of the stories about-

“The Gateway!” someone behind him cries out, completing the thought, and the light of someone else’s device invades the holy space. “Look,” they say, fast and overexcited. “People think it’s- the Gate, the portal thing, from the stories!” It has only been a few minutes, yet the Acerbian people are already connecting the dots. But Andrea isn’t. He is staring, slack-jawed as one of the worshippers, at the burning light in the sky. And the story is flashing through his head with a weight it’s never had before. Could it be?

“Revelator! Do you know?” one of them is asking now, pulling at his shoulder. He does not answer; the words may as well be coming from a trillion miles away, from across the cosmos. “Revelator,” they say again, and now they’re saying “Revelator, are you alright?”

With a rumple of fabric and a thud on the stone, Revelator Andrea falls to his knees.



The Gateway is open, and only one man cannot see it.

That man is Oscaro, and he is not a priest. This is the second most important fact about him, and he has to tell it to everyone he meets. It’s because he looks like one: usually dressed in ceremonial robes, with an apparent air of spirituality and sophistication about him. He is indeed a part of the clergy, but his role is as a fidel: a specialized monk of a particular deity, who serves under the revelators, but only when that revelator’s duties connect to the fidel’s chosen deity. When they are not aiding the revelators, they live lives of contemplation, study, and service to their fellow believers.

The first most important fact about him is that he’s blind.

Completely blind, from birth. His particular condition could be cured with Acerbian medicine, and that is precisely what Oscaro’s parents wanted for him. But he refused. The law was that a child could not be “healed” of blindness until they were old enough to make that choice for themselves, and as soon as Oscaro was of age to understand his own disability and what it meant for him, he knew he wanted to remain blind his entire life. His mother, crying about it, begged him to change his mind.

But she never asked him why. She didn’t need to.

“Hallowed Oscaro,” says a woman’s voice over intercom, “the captain wishes you to know that we are approaching the Gateway. Departure in estimated two hours. He…” the voice hesitates. “He suggests you should get some rest before we reach Earth.” In his private quarters aboard the battleship, Oscaro chuckled. She’d only hesitated because he was titled Hallowed. Even military types couldn’t get over Oscaro’s special place in the clergy. Especially military types, in fact. Many times he’d noticed with amusement that they were less nervous around actual revelators.

Oscaro comms back: “Understood. They’re sure I’m the only one qualified to be our first diplomat?”

The answer came back in the affirmative, of course. Fidels, like priests, are social creatures, but they are further educated. In times past, when Acerbian technology wasn’t so reclaimed and the education system not so developed, they served as the early Temple’s only true scholars. Oscaro is more educated in history and language and politics than anyone else on this battleship, where he’s been serving as a spiritual guide only because no true priest is willing to work on a ship patrolling so far out from Acerbus.

It was the closest vessel when the Gateway opened. As such, it is the one first entering the Gateway, and Oscaro is now the one who must play diplomat if anything is still alive on the other side of it. He wonders about that. And about the other colonies, if the stories about them are true. And about- many things, so many that it sets him to repeating holy poems for peace. His goddess is the Swallower, who it is said is better worshipped by the blind than by any other humans, being called Hallowed once they embrace her, and who it is said offers the peace of oblivion to those who understand her.

He slipped into visions at his desk reciting poems about her. When he awakes, the Acerbian battleship has passed through the Gateway. They have arrived safely in Sol, not far from the Moon, not far at all from Earth. Earth! The long abandoned womb of humanity. The crew is excitable, amazed, ecstatic, all the words. They are in shock. They are gazing at the viewscreens and speaking longingly about their long-lost homeworld, however gray and ruined and empty they say it looks now. Oscaro cannot see it. But he smiles.

The Tale of the Khaganate of Tengri Begins Now:

---

---

A Star Is Born

A shaman experiences the Universe's splendour.
Featuring: Zenith Shamanka

---

Zenith's chest heaved as she finished the steps she had been carefully practicing for three long months now. Bands of brightly coloured fabric fluttered about her arms and legs, and she could feel her sweat soaking in to the heavy underclothes donned for the occasion. Her head spun - it had already been light from fasting and now exacerbated by the exercise... But there was one more step left before she was ready to properly step into her role as shamanka of Uzay.

She must experience Its majesty for herself, once properly acclimatised to see the spirits.

Her mentor approached now, holding a bowl of murky brown liquid that even at a distance nearly caused her eyes to water. Seer's Broth: tincture of hashish and poppy, ayahuasca brew, shaman's sage and a metabolic reactant to speed the absorbtion of the mixture. Reaching out, hands shaky, Zenith grasped the bowl with both hands, locked eyes with her mentor, then brought the plastic to her lips, gulping the foul smelling and worse tasting concotion down quickly so as to minimise the amount of time it spent on her tongue. She could feel its passage down into her stomach - scorching her throat and immediately throwing her body to alarm. Bile began to rise and it took every ounce of her self-control to not project the mixture back up and all across the floor of the airlock... But she managed it, just about, returning the bowl to her mentor's hands and affixing the air intake she'd require for an hour-long EVA over her mouth.

There was a soft clink as her mentor affixed the tether she'd require to her harness, and then with a bow he departed, airlock doors slamming shut behind him. Already she could feel a strange numbness begin to spread across her body, a warm flush rising to her cheeks as she exhaled fully and braced herself for the moment of jettison.

But no amount of bracing could possibly prepare her for what the feeling was actually like. Her only warning was a brief flash of red and the opening blare of a klaxon before a collossal gust of wind blew her off her feet and sent her careening out of the warm embrace of the vessel and out into the void. She spun wildly for a few moments, lost in total and utter free-fall until with a bang the tether jerked her to a halt, body too numb and limbs too slow to really process the pain that she no doubt would have been in under normal circumstances.

Her secondary eyelids shaded her eyes as she cautiously opened them, and despite having seen the sight of the system stretching out before her thousands of times, she could only gasp at what she now percieved. The stars twinkled before her, each one haloed by colours that had no right being there. Light squirmed and flowed around her like liquid, rushing past her deadened body in rivers that streamed out from the system's lonely star, a solar gale that swept across every body that orbited the burning core, binding them tight in the star's embrace. She felt herself extend an arm out before her and was dully surprised to see her hand now covered in crimson spirals, highlighted fingers piercing the wind that buffeted her body but left the fabric swirling around her to spill out in every direction.

The stars and colours before her swam. Her mind began to slowly close in on itself, darkness seeping in from the edges of her consciousness. She should have been terrified but she seemed incapable of such an emotion right now, mouth agape inside the breathing apparatus as the edges pressed in, deeper and deeper, further and further...

The winds before her began to coalesce together. Brightly coloured sparks flared to life before her eyes, exploding outwards into infinitely tesselating sets of fractals, none of which could seem to stay still for a single moment, so filled with life and energy were they. The sparks flickered, slow at first, and then firing in patterns, the wind drawn to this single inexorable spot in otherwise empty space in which what was left of her entire mind, no her very spirit was fixated upon.

She held her breath without realising it, eyes perceiving but brain numb as she witnessed the patterns begin to pulse and the wind rushed back past her, towards the star from which they had came. She stared unblinking as the patterns finally shattered and an incomprehensible brightness filled space, blasting the darkness from every crevice and recess of her mind, the image searing itself into her brain.

A great, shining kaleidescopic vortex had been birthed before her, a new center for the universe to revolve around, and the tiny spark of her mind was nothing in comparison to its glory. Zenith - no not Zenith, because the figure suspended alone in Uzay's embrace was no longer confined to the single body in which it had found itself for almost exactly eighteen years, was finally, truly conscious of the truth.

Everything - not every person, not every planet, not every star or animal or rock or plant but everything, the whole universe itself, was a single tapestry, woven from an ever-expanding thread that had burst into life so long ago. There was no difference between the iron that carried oxygen through one's veins and that which floated through space, no difference betwixt the gases tightly compressed into planets on the Far System and that which the vessel that had borne the form that she identified with was even now steadily exhaling to stabilise its position.

The human form was the universe, was Uzay, and contained within it was the universe. Carbon from those that had come before, to be shared with those that came after. All of it was the same.

Zenith's consciousness slowly contracted back into her body, and never before had the shamanka felt so small, yet at the same time part of something so incomprehensibly large. As sensation slowly returned to her fingers and her eyes began to refocus, she jolted a little, startled to see that the explosion of colour and light, the kalaidescope which she had thought was merely a particularly vivid hallucination remained steadfast before her, even as the winds that were still pulled into it faded from view. Gripping her tether, she turned about, confirming that yes, her vessel was still there... and yes, when she turned back, that strange portal was also still there, defiantly resisting even her new understanding of her place in the universe.

Perhaps her mentor might know. Her pressure gauge informed her she only had another five or ten minutes of non-reserve air and the freezing sensation that had crept into her fingers only further confirmed that she'd been out here for a while, even if it hadn't felt that long at all. Giving her tether three firm tugs, she was relieved when she felt the reassuring vibrations of the winch at the other end reeling her back in, still staring at the portal, at the...

Gateway

---

Hail to the Khagan

The Great Khagan sets forth the most important decree of his reign.
Featuring: Ögedei II Khagan

---

It had been less than twenty minutes since Ögedei was awoken with news that one of the most momentous events in his people's history had occured in the hour and a half since his head had hit his pillow. While most people would have grumbled at this, there was no time for him to be lax in his duty, and instead he'd hurried to don clothes suitable enough for him to make an appearance on the bridge of the Bai-Ülgen. Now, his footfalls sounded heavy even on the carpeted floor, while behind him tromped two Kheshigs, stiff plumes quivering with each movement they made.

He emerged out onto the bridge to a scene of absolute chaos. The High Shaman was bickering with the chief navigator, his Cherbi and Grand General were stood before a rapidly blinking holographic display, frantically gesturing at icons of vessels and diagrams of horde structures, one of his wives was trying to corral her daughter away from all the chaos... But all of it was dwarfed by the display out of the Bai-Ülgen's main screen.

It sat just outside of the middle asteroid belt, a glowing... disc of swirling light and colour that none living on the system had ever seen, yet all knew exactly what it meant. For a moment, even the Khagan was caught up in the wonder of the situation, only for one of the two Kheshigs trailing him to bellow out an introduction.

"HIS IMPERIAL MAJESTY, GREAT KHAGAN OF TENGRI AND THE ENDLESS BLACK SKY, ÖGEDEI, SECOND OF HIS NAME, IS ON THE BRIDGE."

Instantly, a hush descended across the crowded court. Squabbling figures disentangled themselves from one another, the various kheshigs and soldiers snapped to attention aiming crisp salutes towards their liege, while his daughter clapped loudly, golden eyes glittering in the artificial light.

"Initial report please, beyond the blatantly obvious." He gestured towards the view before them, raising an eyebrow. Immediately a long-fingered shinjar had scurried forwards, nervously clearing his throat.

"T-the Gateway opened itself approximately t-thirty five minutes ago, sire, and immediately began interfacing with the flagship's systems." The man took another deep breath before continuing. "We have a full list of systems that correspond with what little was preserved from the original databanks, while reports from other members of the Golden Horde suggest that their navigational computers are also able to interface with it."

Ögedei tugged at the end of his moustache and contemplated his immediate moves. He hadn't formalised his power enough over the Colour-Hordes, and there was no way he could stop all his siblings from deciding to take their fleets where they wished... So it was best to direct their energy into places where it could do the most good for the Khaganate. Shuddering a little, he pointed to his chief communicator and strode forward towards his command throne, the bridge crew that had been left standing around when he entered now scurrying to their places.

"The Obsidian and Silver Hordes are to keep an eye on the Gateway at all times. Anyone, anything that comes through needs to be immediately relayed to this ship as soon as possible. Halt any intruders, but do so without killing them unless absolutely necessary. We cannot afford to re-enter the galaxy with blood on ours hands." As soon as the words were said, they were already being relayed across to the other flagships dotted throughout the system, his scribe's fingers flying across the screen of a datapad to record everything as soon as it left his lips. "The Steel Horde will need to increase production of warships to allow us to maintain our watch properly. The Golden Horde will cover the cost, ship them enough Altun to get them to agree. We'll extract some of the value back one way or another." He sighed deeply.

"The Khaantus should be as informed as I am about all of these goings on. Any report regarding the Gateways that comes to me also goes to her. Make sure the news is dispersed, safely, through the populace. We can't hide this, and any attempt to do so would be folly. I'll leave the exact hows to her best judgement, she knows the people of Itügen better than I."

"As for my siblings... The Red Horde should take detachemnt fleets as required and venture to Sol. Khulan will be responsible for negotiation with any other branches of humanity that make their way to our home, and needs to be prepared for a long stay there. Double her detachment of Kheshigs and reinforce with House Guards if required... Actually, scratch 'detachment fleets.' Send the Tömör Chadal through with her, and make sure she knows that such a thing is not negotiable. The rest of the Colour-Hordes need to communicate with each other before they set off. I do not want to hear of any squabbling between them over scraps of prestige." The Cherbi began barking out orders once the Khagan finished, and Ögedei knew that within the hour the detachment of soldiers aboard the Bai-Ülgen would drop significantly. It didn't exactly please him to do such a thing, especially since there was no doubt the system would come under the kind of pressure it had never experienced before, but it would be far worse to lose Khulan and her loyalists.

"I expect constant communication from all of them as soon as they leave Tengri. Any sustained lapse or failure to report in should be met with the highest suspicion." More salutes and called out orders followed, until at last his chief navigator turned and asked the question that no doubt all aboard the Bai-Ülgen were waiting for:

"And what of us, Great Khagan?"

"What of us? We remain here. The Golden Horde is the bedrock of the Khaganate. The Bai-Ülgen is her lynchpin. If the way is made clear by Khulan, we may forge ahead to Sol ourselves, but otherwise we hold here - our power is needed at home."

"Of course Emperor." A floor-scrapingly deep bow followed, and Ögedei finally allowed himself the small privalige of slumping down in his throne.

All he could do now was wait.

Wait, and pray.

---

Red Horde over Paradise

The Crimson Khatun leads her people home
Featuring: Khulan Khatun-Khuu

A true armada had assembled at the Gateway over the course of almost half a week, all spearheaded by the Konrul Ülzii - The flagship of the Red Horde and personal throne of Khulan Khatun. Assembled around it were representatives of the other Hordes joining the expedition to Sol - the Tömör Chadal of the Iron Horde, the personal trade-fleet of a Sapphire Horde Khan and a seemingly endless number of smaller clan-ship, jostling for a more prestigious position closer to the wormhole itself. With the last few stragglers having finally arrived, Khulan Khatun could take up her position in the command throne of her flagship, transmission lines opened wide so all could hear her words.

"Glory to the Great Khagan of Tengri, and greetings to all those that have asssembled upon his decrees. We have been given a chance to not only serve our sovereign and our clan, but to do what none before us, not even the great Chinggis Khagan himself, have. Almighty Uzay, its reach beyond knowing, its designs beyond reproach, has given our spirits an opportunity we must not cast aside." The High Shaman offered her an approving nod as she pressed on.

"We have been chosen, by the universe and by the Emperor, to be the vanguard of our people. To walk, as our ancestors did, across the grand vastness that is Uzay, to feel the strength of our ancestor's star across our faces, and to walk upon hallowed ground once thought lost forevermore." A quick glance across the bridge told her that the words were having their intended effect. Her brother had always been the stern, practical kind; deft with administration, confident in a war-room and efficient in business... But she had always been the orator, ever since they were young.

Perhaps that was another one of Ögedai's strengths: Strong delegation skills.

A wry smile crossed her face as she continued her speech.

"To those who join us from other Hordes, know that you serve among equals beneath the Khagan. It is through all of our skills and knowledge that we will chart this path for our people. To our soldiers, know that it will be your blades and your bows, sheathed or drawn, which will ensure our safety and prosperity in the times to come. To those who serve in my Horde, know that your Khatun is with you. Carry the Konrul high, and know that whenever one of you prospers, so do we all. Let my brothers scatter themselves among the stars to reap an unknown bounty. We will serve in the Cradle of Mankind, and we will show that them the Red Horde's glory." A small cheer went up among the bridge staff, and she had the faintest suspicion that a similar scene would be playing itself out across the armada.

"Let Uzay's wisdom guide our steps as we pass through our finest creation. I will see you all, blessed subjects, on the other side of the galaxy."

She chopped her hand forwards to punctuate her final sentence to her staff, and before she had even had a chance to let it fall the bridge staff began to brace themselves as the Konrul Ülzii's colossal engines fired. A collection of the court's spiritual leaders made slow circles around the holographic command table that dominated the majority of the bridge, voices undulating over the sonorous rhythm of ceremonial drums and the soft jingles of bells and clappers attached to their uniforms. One of their number - a dervish, no doubt, was perhaps the most eye-catching of all the priests. He had no drum and no bells, yet with each twist and turn of their form, great ribbons of brightly-coloured synth silk whirled about, colours bleeding across them with each gust of movement to create a prismatic halo of movement.

The Gateway was now the only thing visible from the bridge display. The holographic display flickered through options incomprehensibly fast, the chief navigator's hands a blur as they acquainted themselves with the greatest of Earth's technological marvels... But it wasn't hard to find what they were looking for.

Eight planets, four of them giant. A single G-type main-sequence star... And there, third from the star was a blue marble, streams of text from a language long since left behind on Tengri swirling around it. Humanity's home. Their home. Once, at least.

The Gateway enveloped the flagship and vanished from sight. The hairs on the back of Khulan's neck shot up, the display flickered, the ceremony's momentum faltered for a moment and it seemed even her Cherbi had felt something in that briefest of seconds... But then the feed resumed, and as the voices and drums reached their climax a gasp slowly went up from across the bridge. Now, instead of the portal, there was instead a large, airless... Moon? It had to be a moon, for close to it, far too close for it to not have been ensnared, was a planet, the third from its star.

And it was dead.

---

The sound of engines cranking, gears spinning, and the reactor's heartbeat could be heard through the heat of the space station orbiting Vusary's second moon of Spiragîr. Walking through the cramped hallways, Aseni read a console given to her by a trade ship as she walked. She stopped for a moment and quickly groaned upon seeing the data as she soon began to walk through the hallways of the station, Aseni was a woman who looked in her early twenties she had sapphire-like eyes and long white hair, her face was plain and rather pale with a crooked nose, but rather well tight and well groomed compared with extremely expensive maid like clothes while having a collar around her neck made out of metal. Music could be heard as she entered the social areas where guards, soldiers, and some workers operated. Filled with shops illuminated by neon and industrial lights. As she walked, she overheard a conversation between workers, one saying. "Me and the boys in a ship tried to go asteroid mining, and guess what?" "What?" One of the workers replied. "Some fuckers from warlord Varke came out of nowhere and put a tax on us for mining in his area!" "Are you kidding me? Are they now gonna start taxing anyone if you cross into their lands?" One of the guards replied. "I don't know it is getting harder now thanks to the rivalry between Varke and Boss..." the man replied with another worker saying. "Maybe try to open a shop for the pilgrims or a stop? My cousins have been doing well for them since they want to see the ancient gate." "Ye… like that is cheap." The man replied to the others, Aseni soon could not hear them as she walked away from the conversation.

Heading through the industrial hallway, she saw the docks of the space station as their blast doors were being repaired together with the secure areas; some houses were even being built into the walls being adapted to the hangar. "The population was growing." she thought seeing the buildings as she once again entered the confines of another hallway. She pulled a chain hanging from the ceiling that headed up. She soon dragged up before being stopped on a floor, and stepping down a guard standing by saluted her as she passed down remarking, with few words. "Fix this damn elevator for once..." Walking through the hallway she soon noticed another opening. She froze and bowed before the statue of Lukary before saying. "Be well Your Majesty." She then finally noticed the other descendants of Lukarians that she ignored due to her hurry; the four men and two women gave light bows to her in solidarity saying together. “Cousin…” After giving a small bow of respect to the others she continued on her way.

Picking another elevator she soon began to go down rather fast seeing sections of industry and air controls an area of recreation and many others as she finally stopped at a more luxurious hallway decorated by bluish plants and carpets partially tattered with a sigil of a star being devoured by a Gnax, at the end of the small hallway was a flank of two guards walking softly they saluted her as the door opened and closed behind her looking at room that was a frank mess of books laid about and different papers the walls made out of reinforced steel and as she looked around she heard a man singing.

“Oh stars, Oh stars, sing with me”
“Oh stars, Oh stars, sing with me”

Aseni hearing it soon saw Vinaae she soon began to approach slowly while hearing the song. Vinaae seemed to have reclined on a chair while holding a half-empty glass of Nek.

“The Night that comes into the dawn”
“From Dalenndar, to Normagar”
“Where fire burns, and the bullets fly”
“Where man of steel march to die”

Aseni soon saw Vinaae. His hair was dark, his eyes were closed, his face bore many healed scars and he seemed to stay young despite being 34 she soon began to lean into him while she heard him sing.

“Oh stars, Oh stars, sing with us tonight”
“For today we shall march to fight”
“Against the heart of the beast we shall fight”
“and death and glory to be us to…”

“Nice song.” Aseni whispered to Vinaae's ear with him snapped out with a scream, his eyes flaring open revealing the sulfur glow as he quickly fell out of his chair beginning to groan in pain looking to see Aseni he soon pointed at her saying. “Sister…” He soon began to adjust himself. “You Bitch!” Asenie chuckled at the display saying. “really an old war song?” “You know me, not a fan of modern stuff… Changing Topics! WHAT THE FUCK!” He shouted as she gave a light shrug he soon said. “I said more than once to knock!” “This is also my room. I will let you know.” She replied with him groaning, rising up completely and stretching his back he then said. “What is it? I hope it's important” he soon pressed a button as the metal lifted revealing a window to space as he looked on. “Well, remember Varke brother?” He rolled his eyes as he poured a glass of Nek. “Ah yes, the perpetual pain in my ass as he constantly threatens to attack. What about him?” “Well, he just declared any ship going through his territory to us banned.” She replied stopping, raising the glass to his lips and putting it on the table again he then shouted. “What! Can he do that?!” “Technically, it's his territory and I doubt the council nor the crimson eye would step in for such a petty thing” She said with Vinaae growing concerned as he sat on a chair. “This is the worst… now we have to contend with losing 50% of our mineral production.” he said. “Could be worse…” She replied to him continuing. “Remember what father always said? Always be ready for the unexpected because sometimes the good and bad can come both ways.” “Oh please, what good can come of this? I mean, think about it we rely heavily on the…” Aseni smiled, refocusing her eyes into the window for a moment. She felt like work was gonna be thrown at her. Instead, her worries drew to something else outside the gate came into view as the station rotated, and it seemed to begin to glow her eyes widened seeing it. “Brother…” she said with a tone of fear. “We already are in some high levels of debt due to the navy expenditure and…” He continued with her saying. “Brother…” She soon began to move slowly backwards with him sighing. “What?” “The gate to Gael…” She replied, sounding scared as the room was suddenly illuminated by a blue light turning around Vinaae looked towards it and shouted. “WHAT IN THE NAME OF THE KINGS!”

The light soon glowed like a new star in the heavens across all of the star system. A new star appeared in the sky near a newly made pilgrim station. For some in Vusary the planet of old, it seemed like a curiosity. Maybe someone accidentally exploded an old ship's reactor or a major nuclear attack. For others who knew of the star maps the gate towards old Gael glowed and it awoke.

---

Vinaae coughed into an intercom to call attention before saying. “Right to all workers please get away from blast areas before we launch the probe. All workers remove yourselves from the danger zone” He soon cut comms looking back he soon saw an enormous crowd of people from all clans watching he whispered to his sister. “Is it an impression or are there more people onboard?” “Ah yes more came from abroad as the gate opened.” she replied with a light annoyance. “Ah great… now the entire system knows what is going on here.” Soon the radio fliered up with a static voice saying. “Sir this is Noxi-1 I am ready” Typing into the console he soon picked up the transmission. “Good work Noxi-1 once you think you are ready to launch give a heads up and fear not in any complication, any family member shall be richly compensated for your volunteer work” Vinaae soon turned off comms for a moment. “What are the chances he dies?” “High...” she replied. “Do we really need to pay if he dies?” he said with her turning her head to him looking rather disapprovingly he sighed, taking a moment before turning on the radio again. “Are you ready?” “Yes sir” The sound of a deep breath could be heard with Vinaae smiling pressing the intercom button. “Right, everyone! We are initiating the first launch.” Putting his hand on the console watching as the pilot readied to launch his hands shook for a moment saying. “The Old kings were said to go to Old Gael and that one day they would return to bring judgment right?” “That is how the old stories go…” She said equally, sounding nervous. “We have every cannon aimed at the gate right?” he asked with her replying. “Yes, roughly all cannons and missiles we could muster.”

As both calmly talked soon the pilot of the small craft seemed to launch the procedure as the entire station could see the small craft fly from the hangar towards the gate the cable attached to it being extended from the station and pass the blue glow of the gate seeing the transition Vinaae awaited the maximum time was one hour or so he thought to himself why they did not just attempt to experiment to see if communications would work through the gate but it seemed like a safer option seeing how they didn’t know much of how the machine operated so it was best to do a simple test first. After a moment of silence, the metal cord soon began to be pulled back with the automated system Vinaae, Aseni looked on with curiosity together with the entire station also watching passing through the blue light came the small craft came back as they looked on as communication came in from the. “Everything is fine” There is a collective sigh of relief around the station but also of concern and debate Vinaae soon said. “Right, let me see what the cameras picked up.” He soon picked a console selecting the recordings of the ship to begin to be transferred over. Selecting the video, he soon saw space with Aseni whispering. “Gael?” “seems to be close to it.” He pointed to a dot in space saying. “A moon orbiting a grey dot.” “Are you sure it's Gael and not another star system?” Aseni asked him, and he replied to her saying. “There is a small chance we don’t know how old Gael looked. Mom did say Gael had 3 moons?” Aseni replied with a dry tone. “Mine said it was two…” Vinaae looked annoyed, giving the console to her and returning to stare at the gate. “Marvelous…” He pondered for a while while standing on the balcony overlooking the hangar and seeing through a window thinking for a while before saying. “Well, I wonder how this thing works and if it can change the place to send.”

Down below the pilot was removed from the exploration craft while chatter continued. Both siblings meanwhile continued some small chatter about the gate until they were interrupted by a guard knocking at the door. “Come in” Vinaae said as the doors opened a guard then said. “Ah Lord Vinaae someone wants to talk to you;” “I’m busy.” Vinaae replied with anger the guard looked a bit worried but he continued. “He's a fleet captain of ten ships, his name is Teenizorii.” Vinaae seemed to think for a moment before saying. “Let him in.” As he picked the console off the hands of Aseni searching the man’s name as the guard left. Aseni then said as both were alone again. “What is it now?” “Just seeing what this guy wants before I send him away. Docked two weeks ago to refuel, stayed after the gate to Gael opened, interesting guy.” The door soon opened again and both saw a man in his 50’s his eyes were blood red and he seemed addoned with several dozen scars he then said. “Lord Vinaae I believe correct?” “Yes that is me what you need sir…” he gestured for his name the man replied. “Teenizorii, fleet warlord.” “Ah… well pleasure to meet a Nikorian how i can help?” VInaae replied with a smile. Teenizorii remained expressionless looking at the window, he said. “The gate has opened has it not?” “ah yes…” Vinaae replied confused Teenizorii soon continued. “...and this station and the ring are considered your domain. I would like permission to take my fleet and myself through it.”

Vinaae and Aseni looked at each other with Vinaae staying curious. “You want to take your fleet to the other side of that portal?” “It's old Gael, ancestor mother who would not seek to see once again the old mother?” Teenizorii said Vinaae then said. “Well… there is a small chance that eight people may be waiting there you know…” “I don’t think they will judge us nor do I think they are there.” he replied to Vinaae sounding confident Vinaae thought for a moment before dropping the curiosity he soon turned into a wide smile saying. “Sure! why not just be careful and don’t rush into something you don’t know okay?” He gave a nod leaving Aseni soon said as he left the room. “What is your plan?” “A free scout is a free scout now we wait and study how to use this thing.” he gestured to the gate. Aseni rolled her eyes before saying. “If you say so… also it seems the attempt at information containment failed.” “How?” He asked, growing more worried. “Well, it's kind of hard to hide a giant glowing portal, glowing for days and also a few ships that left at the same time. ” “Marvelous… I wonder what is going on thanks to that” Vinaae commented with Aseni looking to the side thinking ‘riots in some places’ before returning focus to him bringing back to the topic she then said. “Right we better go back to work;” “Yes better…” he quickly replied as both left the observation area of the hangar.

As the fleet of Teenizorii arranged itself into position, his cruiser was at the head of the fleet aiming at the gate Teenizorii sat in the commanding chair. The bridge had screens showing the outside and tactical info he soon said to the bridge crew. “To old Gael, we go” He readied himself as the ships began to ready themselves and soon moved into the blue light. The fleet soon crossed the barrier into old Sol, already incredibly different; the sun seemed weaker than their own star in illumination as the ships entered Sol. Being able to see the glow of a pale moon and the shine of a grey world.

---

A Monastery

---

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It was a mantra. They needed to repeat it in their thoughts in every second of every waking hour. They were not allowed to stop until their breaths were as uniform as their life. In their youth, it was their first thoughts in the morning and often their last thought before restful sleep. The Good Doctor said this was “the most optimised breathing form a human can have to ensure maximum oxidative phosphorylation efficiency while preventing accelerated decay of the bronchi.” A cold, terrifying chimp that one was.

This was unlike Mother, who would always smile at their questions about the mantra and called it the Breath of Life. “Little ones,” she would start, sweeping her grey index across our brows as one sat in her rust-coloured fur “the Breath of Life gives you strength. It gives you energy. It gives you life. And most importantly, it gives me plenty more time to coddle and spoil you.” Her smile would always stretch across her face, in a way that never felt unnatural to them. Her fur felt soft against their hairless skin. Those large appendages for fingers were never feared, always so gentle and quick to caress them. It was because of her that they could breathe like this in their sleep, encouraged to stretch their fragile lives beyond the natural means. All through breathing techniques.

Mother was always like that. Through the training regimens they were put through to walk for the first time, she was there to lend a guiding hand. From learning the tones of Mandarin to the alphabet of Cyrillic, she was always quick to correct their bumbling mouths through the teething. She would hold their hands through the operations and vaccines, the constant check-ups, questioning and prodding the Good Doctor would conduct. With barely large enough fists, she taught them all the ways we could suffocate a fully grown human in case for self-defence, something even she felt was unnecessary. Yet she did it, like all of her chores and tasks, with due diligence and utmost care for them all.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

Sato himself owed a lot to her. Even his own life, or at least he suspects he does. When he started to stumble and stutter over the most basic of Swahili, the Good Doctor had almost repositioned him into therapy. No one ever came back from therapy. Mother stepped in with fury on her lips in a way he had never seen before, forcing the smaller chimpanzee into backing out. She tutored him every night from then on until he was as fluent as the rest of his class. His life near came to an end in his fifth year but she was there to help him, even sweeping the tears from his trembling cheeks and caressing his midnight hair. They could all recount a similar story of Mother helping them, in both significant and insignificant ways. Even when they were old enough to understand that biology came in the way of her being their true mother, she would always be Mother to them.

And here she was, their Mother, their sweet and special Mother, so kind and gentle, lying with flowers in her fur and stones on her eyes.

Sato knew what death was. He knew of the process of the body shutting down, organs coming to a stop as the homeostasis which kept them alive was disrupted. He knew of every detail of the process, as any self-respecting human should, from animals to plants, from Supremus to humans like himself. He knew death clinically, scientifically and what he thought to be wholly.

But he never knew grief. He knew of it and maybe he experienced things that nearly made him grieve. The kinder guards would be assigned to other places as their fur grew silver beyond their back. Teachers would be replaced as the limits to their knowledge were reached. And sure, friends would disappear at times to never come back again. But he could always deal with this with his Breath of Life. It gave him strength. It gave him energy. It gave him life. It would make everything disappear and it felt like he could repeat his mantra and everything would be ok.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

It refused to work this time.

It failed to work when Mother had first collapsed in the middle of an impromptu teaching lesson, one of the few escapes from their daily timetable. It failed to work when, after just a few hours, they were informed of her passing from a random brain bleed. It failed to work now, as he stood among many others, staring at her corpse. They stood in the small classroom, one they had used for countless lectures, with her body in an open casket for them to grieve. Each of them had been given a flower to place on her carefully trimmed fur as prayers to the spirits above were uttered on too-small lips.

Sato had been staring at her from the back of the line and now, he was at the front. His feet had shuffled automatically, following the orders of what he knew were to be his betters. His caretakers. The ones who taught him the Breath of Life. Yet none of these betters had saved Mother. From what? A random act? A trip in her genetic build which led her brain to drown in its own blood?

The boy of fourteen trembled and shook, unable to control his breath. The Good Doctor, who had been leading them to the open casket, glanced at him wearily as he held an expecting paw out to him.

Breathe in. Breathe out

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The diminutive human, who was ever so quiet, always by the side of his Mother, clutched the flower in a tight fist. Why? Why was it like this? Why were they afforded everything, every medical expense made to make sure they were healthy, perfect, living, when the one who gave him everything he had would just drop dead like this? Where was the fairness in this?

The Good Doctor was speaking to him now, hushed and gentle like he had never been before. Sato could not hear him.

Breathe in, breathe out. Breathe in, breathe out.

Why? Why was it like this? Why did she have to die? Why couldn’t she have taken his place in this world, when she had done so much for him? Sato began to shake all over, breath quickly losing its sharp control. Hyperventilating, he noted in a distant part of his mind. This was not healthy at all. But he could not bring himself to care.

Breatheinbreatheoutbreatheinbreatheout.

Before the Good Doctor could snatch his arm, Sato about turned and sprinted away from the obvious lie. Mother could not be the one laying there. She would be staying at the observatory as she always did, as she did when she marked all of the constellations personally for him to remember.

He sprinted past the bewildered guards, ignoring the shouts of the Good Doctor behind him. He navigated the labyrinth of his home, turning corridor after corridor like he knew them like the back of his hand. He slid under many a primate, escaping their clutches with the deft precision only years of training could give him. Apprehension grew within him. He was disobeying. He near stumbled out of shock of what he was doing, the shock of disobeying his betters like he was a petulant child. But Sato refused to believe it, he refused.

Breatheinbreatheoutbreatheinbreatheout.

This could not be real, Sato repeated like a mantra. This could not be real. He ascended the steps to one of the few open-air venues of the Monastery. He frantically searched for anything, anything at all that would suggest that Mother was here, playing a cruel game of hide and seek with him.

Nothing. Not a single fur on the console. Not a single breath filling this space aside from his own. And even his feverous panting was interrupted by a sudden glint in the sky. His eyes darted towards the position of New Gift’s sun and around the blue sky above. It did not match any of the known stars he knew. And what star could shine so bright in daylight. He stared blankly, distantly aware of the thuds behind him.

“Mother?” The boy whispered quietly, staring at that shining glint in an otherwise featureless sky. “Mother? Is that you? Are you there?”

Nothing. Nothing but the blazing light on a blue canvas. Nothing but the tears rolling down his cheeks.

Breathe in. Breathe out.

The rough paws around his arms and the sharp jab he felt was miles away from him now. He could only smile at his Mother, twinkling ever so brightly in the sky, giving him warmth and the tingling in his fingers he only felt with her.

The last thing he knew was a glimpse of the Good Doctor in his blurring vision, disappointment evident behind those curious spectacles of his. “I knew this one was defective. Send him to rehabilitation.”

And Sato knew no more.

The opening of the Gateway continued undisturbed by the life stopped.

---

Tellus

---

Where there was peace for some, chaos was life for others. The frontier continent of Tellus, known for its vast amount of resources was also the site of many a “small” conflict between roving warbands of raiders and the city-states which eked out an existence from the smaller landmass. It was a constant struggle for survival here and death could come at any time. Why do simians come from all around to come here? The riches and glory of course.

It was constant. The staccato rhythm of gunfire, the stamping feet around her. The blood staining her surroundings, the rubble of homes she trampled around. Even the night sky and the shadows it cast did not hide the destruction surrounding her. Corellia checked her rifle, a militia standard Kalashnikov Type IIA in a metallic grey, before peeking out of her corner and sending short bursts down range. Grenade-like rounds spewed forth, mini-rockets which slammed into marked combatant positions a hundred meters from her. She kept her fire up until the ammunition counter on her AR screen went to zero and she was forced back to her cover, scorching plasma slinging itself to her previous position, the residual heat tingling her exposed arms.

“Putos! Where’s the fuckin’ Legion when you need them?!”

Her number two, a burly gorilla called Titus, merely grunted in bemusement as he swapped with her as she reloaded, shoulder cannon peeking past the melting concrete to spew hell at whatever poor bastard breathed there. Corellia’s fire team had been making headway in Neo Brasilia as part of an offensive to wrestle control from the Caesar wannabes that dared to pick on a Khanate sanctioned city. It had been door to door fighting for every inch of the way but they had gotten separated from the rest of her detachment by a surprise counterattack. They were now isolated, cut off from the rest of the militia deep in enemy territory.

Their former target was a mere hundred meters away, the former mayoral office of a now-dead Brasilian government.

“Titus.” She remarked as the bulky cannoneer displaced himself from the firing line. “Battlenet’s reporting you only have five cannon shot left. That true or is the system glitching?”

Titus backed away from the smouldering street corner and glanced back at her.

“Tis true Battle-Sergeant, I have exhausted much of my ammunition on the way here.”

Holding back a curse, Corellia glanced back at the rest of her mishmash squad. Two local chimpanzee recruits nervously clutching rifles like hers and a single shield-brother. They had been cut down ape by ape by this damned counterattack. INFOWAR chimed in her headset.

>Warning: Ten hostiles inbound from the northwest corridor from OBJECTIVE MONEYGRAB
>Warning: Fireteam designated CARNIVAL outnumbered, recommend immediate extraction
>No friendly units in a two-hundred-meter radius

“Mierda! Where’s our air support?”

>Drone support unavailable, recommend immediate extraction.

They were so damn close! There was an extra ten thousand pot to choose from for the first fireteam into that damnable building. She felt expectant eyes bore themselves into her. Well, they were already in it deep, and so a plan took shape in Corellia’s head.

The raiders were whooping and hollering as they blasted plasma on the militia’s position. With their enemy cut off and running low on supplies, the scum felt exhilarated enough to begin an advance towards their enemy’s untenable position where they were cowering. Near a dozen of them advanced on orders to kill the baboons.

Instead, they were met by a sudden charge led by an albino gorilla with a massive bulky shield at least his width and height. A cannon peaked over the side and started spewing thunder at the unsuspecting raiders. A pair of raiders were cut apart in two by a shell, smeared into red paste as the militiamen charged with wordless screams.

>Eight hostiles inbound. Thirty hostiles within OBJECTIVE MONEYGRAB.

The plasma made deep marks in the shield as they continued on, rifle fire coming into play with explosive bursts making short work of unsuspecting raiders.

>Five hostiles in immediate proximity. Thirty hostiles within OBJECTIVE MONEYGRAB.

They remained in cover, peeking out to return fire as they continued a headlong charge into a wall of enemy fire. One of the locals was cut down when he peeked from cover at an unfortunate time, head burned off by the opposing barrage. The cannon barked twice in retaliation.

>Four hostiles, DANGER CLOSE.

“Charge faster, you putos! The shield is going to fall!” Titus’ cannon remarked twice more before clicking dry, killing the remaining clusters of raiders in front of them. Just as they reached ten meters from doorstep of the mayoral house, the shield melted apart in the albino shield-brother’s hands from the plasma sent from their objective, a pained shriek echoing in the streets as metal burned into unsuspecting paws. The other local leaped out of the way of the falling shield-brother but was clipped once in the shoulder and once in the chest, crumpling to the ground.

>Thirty hostiles within OBJECTIVE MONEYGRAB

After dragging the albino to the doorway, Corellia and Titus broke into the mayoral house with reckless abandon. The ground level was split between a bar and a mezzanine of all things. The Battle-Sergeant laid down suppressive fire on the raiders situated on the mezzanine as her trusty number two laid into raiders unfortunate enough to be near him. Limbs flew, apes were blown apart and the perfectly replicated Latin-inspired bar underwent a sudden makeover.

>Fifteen hostiles within OBJECTIVE MONEYGRAB
>Ammunition: EMPTY

Dispatching the upper raiders quickly enough, Corellia leaped and climbed up one of the myriad poles unto the mezzanine. “Titus you monkey! I’ll see you upstairs!”

With another bemused grunt below and a following screech from another amputated raider, the Battle-Sergeant found the emergency climbing corridor and followed through. She climbed like her life depended on it (which, with how deep in the shit they were, it probably was) till she reached the upper level door. Grabbing unto the climbing steps with her lower appendages, she withdrew her militia-issued hand club in her free hand while grabbing her rifle by its steaming barrel and with a quick pump of her legs, she crashed into upper level.

>Six hostiles, DANGER CLOSE

Corellia slammed her hand club into the first hostile she met, the orangutan’s head bursting like a watermelon from the enhanced swing. The emergency corridor had led her to a presumed secretary’s room. Weaving under a scorching plasma bolt, she used her rifle as another makeshift blunt object to send the neck of another orangutan twisting like in a physically impossible way.

The other two bastards in the secretary room withdrew their crude two sided blades and charged at her together. Corellia let one slide with a metallic screech against her club as she sent the butt of her rifle into the face of the other raider, smashing his face in so bloody that it became unrecognisable with the brains oozing out of his skull. Unfortunately, she had put too much into that jab and her rifle became a useless clump in her paw.

“Die, Khan-slave!” The chimp left alive, snarling with anger, sent a thrust to her abdomen. Corellia parried, spinning her club by its string to deflect the blade. She sent a jabbing riposte to her opponent’s skull but the crazy bastard opened his jaw to reveal serrated metal teeth which chewed into her titanium club. The spat out remains of her club sent to her eye startled her enough that she nearly missed the following stab to her stomach.

Pushing the bastard away and scrambling from the crazed raider in front of her, Corellia felt bile rising from her throat. Alright, time for her backup.

With an unceremonious splat, she covered her opponent’s face with a precise spit ball of her own. The raider blinked once, then another, before he started screaming in agony as skin blistered and fur melted away. “You fuckin’ Legion freak-!”

Corellia flashed her teeth at the now-melting face of her adversary, his eyeballs sliding to the ground as she casually picked up his discarded weapon. Acidic bile was a beloved enhancement among former Legionnaires like herself after all. The raider scum fell to the ground in a pile of whimpers and curses. She spun the blade in her hand to feel its balance before steeling herself, gazing upon the ornate double doors leading to the mayor’s office ahead.

>Two hostiles, DANGER CLOSE

“Third times the charm huh? Spirits bless my culo.” The Battle-Sergeant muttered before barging through the doors, blade in hand and splinters flying.

The chaos, the fighting, the blood spilt. It masked the explosion which shone bright in the sky. One that would change the course of history itself. One that would make these petty conflicts, and the lives lost within, feel so insignificant in comparison.

The opening of the Gateway continued undisturbed by the lives ongoing.

---

Terra Supremus

---

The aging gorilla scratched his arse, picking a tick out of his silver fur and inspecting it before crushing it in his paw. Perhaps one should have more emotion to such a momentous occasion but he grumbled more about the utter unfairness of it all. This was supposed to be his retirement post. Who thought the colony ship would be needed at any point in his lifetime? It was a museum piece which sat stationary over the Khan’s capital on New Gift, occasionally making the rounds to take the Khan around the system in their flights of fancy.

At least his extensive drills were proven to be effective in a real-life mission. The bridge crew were dutiful as ever, tending to their many tasks over the command bridge. Everything had been set in place as it should be, every system checked thrice, every inch of this museum ship cleaned. Despite the fear of flight the primates held in their hearts, the entire crew had been hard at work in getting this, ancestors forgive him, pile of buckets and scraps spaceborne.

He swore under his breath at the mountain of paperwork awaiting him at his desk. He did not want to be here.

“Must you be so crass, Admiral?” A soft voice spoke behind him, taking him out of his revelry at the cosmos stretched in front of his floor-to-ceiling monitor.

Admiral Sun-sin snorted, nostrils flaring in playful annoyance. He took a glance at the one furless being on the ship, now standing next to him on the bridge. A long red-fur carpet lay under her bare feet, preventing any of the cold metal of the ship to touch her. Not a single thing could come to harm her on this trip, not even the subtle temperature change of metal on furless skin.

A handful of simians came up from their stations to look at her in awe before Sun-sin glared them back into submissive duty. He could not blame them. She was likely the first human they had ever seen.

“Forgive me Princess Ndongo but I am no admiral. What is an admiral without a fleet?”

“A poor one?” She smirked at him, eyes filled with mirth. Sun-sin snorted again.

“The Khan may be changing that soon enough.”

As soon as word came of the Gateway opening, the Khan had come to swift action. He opened the treasuries for plans to future shipyards and a diversion of Khanate spending sent towards the Legion. He sent for ambassadors far and wide from each city state, for delegates must be present in case of contact with other beings beyond the system. He sent a detachment of his own children, most significantly a Herald and his one human daughter, to lead the Khanate into the stars.

”Let no expense be too much, no detail too little. We will set forth into the stars with a swiftness that no other can rival. To be proper inheritors of mankind, we must be first. to see our home. If we are not first, then we must be second. If not second, then third. We must take fast action lest we embarrass the spirits.”

And so it was, that they now blasted towards the Gateways at sub-light speeds greater than any ape has ever gone since the first exodus. Though the Terra Supremus was unarmed beyond a detachment of void-drones magnetically clamped to its hull, it was built with great engines that spanned near the entirety of its length. She was a swift ship, despite her age.

“Indeed, Admiral. Our father has spared no expense in making sure we get to Earth as soon as possible.”

Sun-sin flicked his eyes to the other voice, an orangutan held aloft in an ornate wooden palanquin coming to his other side. The Herald was always a stickler to traditions and thus, his feet never touched uncleansed floors. Unbecoming of a Khan’s son after all, to bump shoulders with the rabble.

“I assume that all precautions have been made for my sister’s safety?”

“Of course, my Herald. Beyond being first to Old Earth, the Khan has decreed your sister’s safety to be of utmost importance. Our Legion attaches and their modified void-drones will be enough to ensure swift escape if we encounter hostile forces.”

It was strange for the Khan to let a human, let alone his most precious Orator, out of his sight. He likely trusted that Sun-sin, her old bodyguard from the Monastery, and her closest playmate in Herald Temuujin, would keep her safe enough. Oh, that and the Legionnaires in the hundreds sworn to protecting her like their lives depended on it. Which it most likely did.

“Good good. Let us enter the Gateway then Admiral. We must follow our father’s orders to be there first after all.” The orangutan’s palanquin turned to face his sister, worry evident in his otherwise listless blinded eyes. “Perhaps you should return to your quarters, sister? It may be unsafe.”

In that sing-song voice of hers, Ndongo declined. “My fathers and mothers of before came to this system through the Gateways. I would do them no disservice by cowering away from what they bravely set forth into.” Great was the power she wielded, Sun-sin noted, for her to openly deny a request from her brother.

Setting this aside, Sun-sin lifted himself off his knuckles and spread his great arms wide. “Let us set forth into the dark cosmos! Helmsmen, lead us to Old Earth!” And thus the ship blinked out of New Gift’s cradle.

“Corny old ape.”

“Yes, that was quite embarrassing Admiral.”

Bloody youth, they never appreciated the beauty of grand gestures.

They would soon end up in a system no Supremus had ever stepped forth into. Into an eight-planet system none of them had laid their eyes on. Into the pages of history they went, naïve of the troubles which laid ahead.

The Gateway blazed “behind” them, undisturbed by history in the making.

The People of the Qinglong Accord Now March Into The Future:

---

---

A New Input for the Machine

A solar system recalibrates itself around an Anomaly.
Featuring Executive Optimiser-Cog Dai Yi

---

Executive Optimiser-Cog Dai Yi had been having an impossibly busy past few days, but sat as he was- eyes slightly glazed as he stared out the window from a small foyer of the Harmonious Engine, it was hard to tell that was the case. He saw, without really seeing - the glittering lights of Xiwang, the towering skyscrapers, their interior stories dim now that the working day had ended, the steady gleam of streetlights interspersed by darts of light from EVs or mag-trams... And above, blotting almost any of the natural light from the sky, the twinkling clusters on Mingxian's surface, the moon itself thrumming with energy and innovation.

And past even Mingxian... A light which had not been there for centuries, if the reports were proving to be accurate. An artificial star that refused to be dimmed out by five hundred years of history, beaming its strange light out over a system that had only begun to comprehend its true meaning.

The appearance of the Anomaly in the space just outside of the Accord's defensive perimeter had sent shockwaves out across the entire system. Initial reports from the QIDF implied that it certainly hadn't been anything they'd done, nor did it seem to have a direct correlation to anything the invaders were up to. Their vessels hadn't even been near the area of space where it emerged. Sighing, Dai Yi took another small sip of the soda water in his tumbler.

It just didn't fit with anything they knew about Shenjian tech. Bright and flashy - sure, but sustained? And so large, so impressive, so far away from their deep-space holdouts? None of it had made sense at first. The timing was auspicious too, to say the least. 500 years, if you counted them as old Earth had, since CoB day. The turn of a new century - Qingyuan was still getting over the collective hangover from the Arrival Day festivities and had already refocused its efforts towards the Spring Festival, due in just under a month now - Xiwang's stationary shops were churning through hongbao at their usual rate. Surely, with all of this together, it couldn't be an accident of some kind. Such an idea was near-anathema to the organised minds of the Executive Machine, which had had to scramble to release an initial press-statement on the Anomaly to allay early concerns while they tried to figure out what exactly was going on.

He was roused from his contemplation by the appearance of a new figure poking her head through the open doorway to the foyer. Clearing his throat, Yi addressed her, the full weight of his role crashing back down on him as he spoke. "Do we have a proper report on the Anomaly? Can we confirm what the Shenjian had to do with it?"

"Well, we do have new information on the Anomaly, yes, and we can safely state that the Shenjian aren't what caused this." The aide - a young bureaucrat who'd only really just begun their career among the halls of the Machine, glanced up from their Omnilink. "Would you like a digital transmission, or-"

"Just... Tell me the relevant datapoints." Yi hissed out, before slowly pulling himself back together. "Apologies, it's unfair of me to take this out on you. Please, just give me the overview. Unless we've scheduled another emergency meeting, I'm not really on the clo-"

His own Omnilink - currently wrapped around his arm and concealed beneath the sleeve of his jacket, vibrated, but he didn't bother to check it. His suite already told him all he needed to know. He'd spoke of Cao Cao, and here Cao Cao was. Another emergency meeting of the Machine's biological intelligences. Setting down the tumbler with an uncomfortably loud clink, he rose up to his full height, smoothed the edges of his suit down, and gave a curt nod towards the aide. "Scratch that, we're on the clock again. Give me the full sitrep while we walk, I process things better when I can hear them, instead of just getting everything beamed into my head. You know how many notifications I get each minute? Even with the secretaries and the admin NCMs going through the majority of them?"

The woman gave a chuckle. "I can imagine it'd be a little overwhelming, certainly Optimiser-Cog. The uh... Main thrust of the matter is that the Anomaly isn't 'an Anomaly.' I know we didn't want to think it was the Gateway at first because that would have been 'too easy,' but that's what all the data suggests. The IDF has been able to interface with it, it matches all the old records on its appearance and location from the Megaconglomerate era..." She had to take two steps to keep up with each one of Yi's, but the man couldn't exactly slow down with the meeting already called. "This very much seems to be the 'real deal' if you will. The return of the system that let us traverse the stars."

Dai Yi chewed these facts over slowly in his mind. If that was true, if this was the Gateway that Qinglong Megaconglomerate had used... The pair turned a corner and nearly ran headfirst into another group of functionaries, also trailed by aides, likely also being brought up to date before the meeting. Slotting neatly into the crowd, the group continued deeper into the building, the aide rattling off the more specific details of the Anomaly... No, no, it was the Gateway, Dai Yi's mind could accept that, even if it was implausible. Reason told him that when one excluded the impossible, whatever remained, however improbable, must be the truth. Minds greater than him had determined it was the Gateway, many minds greater than his, in fact, and he was ultimately a functionary, not a scientist - his Merits could attest to that. Now what was left was not to bicker about fine details but instead take the defined input and carry out the processes of statecraft, to determine what the appropriate output was.

And that process began as the group emerged out into the Crisis Centre, already bustling with a wide variety of the Executive Machine's hierarchy. Many of the holographic projectors installed beneath the seats representing those from Mingxian or further afield had already sprung to life, a wide variety of different faces flickering slightly as they mimicked the pacing and twitching of a real person eager for the full scale of what was going on to be revealed. Of course, they weren't literally here with them, nor would the information be processed immediately by the actual people these proxies represented - they were engrams - extremely good proxies, but proxies nonetheless.

The chaircog cleared their throat and began. "My thanks to all of the Qinglongren currently present here, and to those being represented outside of these halls. As we will soon be hosting a maximum secrecy meeting, I must request that everyone who lacks the relevant clearance levels please leave the Crisis Centre. Oversight-Coordinator-Cog, could you kindly disable the Engrams, in line with the usual procedures? Thank you." A few murmurs came from the group within the Crisis Center, and the aide gave an easy-going bow to Dai Yi, returning the way she came. As the Engrams flickered out and people began to move towards their tiered seats, Yi settled down, feeling an uncomfortable quietness settle in as the Crisis Centre's doors closed and wireless communications were shut off.

"Fellow Cogs. This meeting has been called because we have received undeniable confirmation that the Anomaly is the Gateway, reopened almost exactly 500 years after it once shut. Full details of the report have been transmitted to the slates before you. While the last of our colleagues filter in, can you please inform yourself of the facts. Once everyone is present..."

"We will begin."

---

The Voice of the People Speaks Across the Stars

The Accord calls on one of its retired heroes, and tentatively reaches out.
Featuring Cog-Ace Guan Liang, Cog-Envoy Xue Bao and Wellness-Harmoniser Zhang Zan

It was a cold and bitter day in northern Qingyuan, and in a small veteran's community, an old soldier stared out at the ice and slushy remnants of last night's snowfall, its colour startlingly like their own flint-grey eyes. Their name was Guan Liang, they were rapidly approaching their eighty-third birthday, and although they may not look to have aged gracefully by the standards of many within the Accord, they were no less keen or able despite that. Still roped with muscle, their speckled hand rested on the silvery handle of a walking cane, the only real outward sign of vulnerability from an otherwise steel wall. They twirled the thing back and forth idly, one hand reaching up to stroke their chin in an archetypally contemplative pose - appropriate, perhaps, for someone who had taken their leave of the military and sought a quiet community for their retirement.

For that was what Guan Liang was - retired. For over forty years they had served the Accord with all the harmony and strength expected of them and more, and now that they were older and slower they had been rewarded with a comfortable pension and the Gratitude of the Machine Merit, a feat that not many could claim to have achieved. Of course, they still worked - eighty two was a venerable age, but no excuse to let idleness seep into their bones... But it was simple, gentle stuff these days. Talks and speeches, PR appointments... And here, in their adopted community, gardening. Oh, so much gardening.

All that was to end today though. The door behind Guan Liang whirred open, and the veteran stiffened their back. They'd suspected this was coming ever since they'd noticed the new light in the sky, and they'd had confirmation for a full day now. They might have the Executive Machine's gratitude, but... "When I stepped out of my Baihu that last time, I thought my service was over with." They turned, fixing their gaze onto the trio that had entered the building. "So how am I to reconcile that with this new request?" They raised an eyebrow, shifting the cane from left to right and back to left.

"Gracious Cog-Ace, I-" The first of the three - a Yin Zholou, bulky and squat with mottled grey-beige skin began to talk, but the veteran raised their hand up, a small smile splitting their face.

"I reconcile it easily. I know how this conversation will go - you will apologise profusely, and say that I am not being called upon, but requested. That I will be treated with respect and dignity, and that if it is my final decision to not take on the role you've brought for me to fill, the Machine understands, and it will find another cog who will accept the position. That I am free to spend my days as I have done for many years, here in this community." They chuckled at the slightly startled reactions they'd received, but pressed on nonetheless. "I shall shortcut this for all our benefit. There is only one task that you would suddenly call upon me for in light of what has happened, and I will accept the position, regardless of its finer details."

He raised an eyebrow. "What, you thought I didn't know the news? Couldn't put two and two together? Come now, this may be a remote place, but I still have the news. I saw the official statement the Executive Machine released. The Gateway is back, and you need the right people to go through the Gateway. I am here. I am ready. I have said my goodbyes and packed my bags, broken the cauldrons and sunk the boats. Let's not dither when a galaxy awaits us, no?"

---

How many times had Liang been into space? The first time they remembered well: barely eighteen years, when their ticket had first been punched in an exercise to familiarise fresh conscripts with transport procedures. The time after that had been their first deployment... but the next? And all the hundreds of times after? But certainly, in all their many trips, they'd never been on a shuttle quite like this one.

It was... Quaint. Smooth and slightly stylised, with pleasant flowing lines in its design and clean paintwork, the Seal of the Executive Machine imprinted into its loading door. Turning away from it, Liang refocused on the soldier who had escorted them here.

"I appreciate the escort cog."

"On the contrary, the pleasure is mine. My thanks for your service." His salute was quickly waved off.

"You needn't salute an old soldier like me, I don't hold a rank over you. May you serve with harmony." With a nod of their head Liang finally turned and headed into the shuttle, its door sliding shut shortly after they'd made it inside. Already strapped in were two others, dressed formally in civilian wear much like Liang was.

"Good morning. I hope I haven't kept you long?" They broke the initial silence easily and moved towards one of the seats. Before the battlesuit veteran sat, they gave their walking stick a firm strike against the ground, causing it to spring up and collapse down into just its slender silver handle - small enough to be slipped into a pocket.

"Cog-Ace Guan Liang?" The first to speak was a young, confident looking man, wearing the lapel pin of a harmoniser. "I've just been reading through your file, and it's a great honour. I'm looking forward to supporting you!" Liang took the opportunity to size him up, and found... Very little to comment on, in truth. He was the archetype of the young harmoniser - neat, short-cropped hair, a friendly smile to put those around him at ease... And if the ace had to guess, they'd say he was no more than twenty-six or twenty seven - barely out of active reserve duty. He must have been training for this role for quite some time then... But hardly enough time to become a truly meritous cog. Still, every part must be machined before it could perform.

"Indeed. And who am I speaking to, aside from a harmoniser?" The ace's tone was polite, if a little perplexed.

"My deepest apologies. Wellness Harmoniser Zhang Zan, He/Him. I'm assisting those who may need extra care aboard the Voice of the People." He gestured over towards the final passenger, a slender woman sitting stock-straight in her seat, fingers slightly tense across the armrests. "Would you like to introduce yourself?"

"Yes." She gave a quick nod. "Xue Bao, She/Her. I'm part of the envoy's diplomatic staff." Her suit, neatly trimmed to fit her figure without overly accentuating her figure, the neat, clipped and precise yet even-handed words, and the unfailingly polite movements that accompanied them... Liang could certainly believe she was a diplomat. Her almost shining black hair was pulled back into a neat bun and fixed into place and she was bereft of any makeup bar a little mascara, if the veteran's eyes weren't failing them already.

"Nervous?" Liang's seatbelt finally clicked into place and they settled down properly, watching as the light above the door clunked from red to amber.

A thin smile split Bao's face. "Never a fan of the shuttle flight. I'll be fine once we're in orbit. Well... Better. We're going through the Gateway after all."

The quiet conversation was interrupted by a clipped sentence over the shuttle's intercom. "All aboard, preflight checks complete. Liftoff in one minute, please make sure you're secure in your seats."

"Worried about the Gateway, or what's through it? I'm sure the IDF has made sure the crossing's safe, and we can't do anything about the latter, so." They gave a small shrug. "No use worrying either way. We must take the current when it serves."

"Sage wisdom," the diplomat responded without a hint of sarcasm. "Where does that spring from?"

"Couldn't tell you if I wanted. Saw it on a dorm wall, a long time ago, but I'm sure they didn't come up with it." Before they could continue any further, the engines ended the conversation for them. They rapidly grew from a soft, barely audible whine to a thrumming crescendo, Bao's fingers digging harder into the armrests. Liang simply settled his head back and waited, feeling out the vibrations of this new shuttle as it the ground pulled away, and they were surrounded by the swirling of the wind as it tried to stop their ascent.

As the atmosphere thinned, so did the volume of their ascent, until finally all that was left was a soft hum and a slowly growing feeling of weightlessness, the sensation bringing a slight smile to Liang's face. "Smoothest ride I've ever had."

"I'll agree once we're in gravity again," Zan attempted to make a joke, but the slight paleness to his skin undercut the attempt at sureness. "This is only my fourth time up here, if you'd believe it. Training, Jingyu, and then back to Qingyuan."

"Only a dozen or so," Bao added, seemingly feeling much more comfortable now that the bumpiest part of the ride was over. "But they've been long deployments. I've served with the Voice before, was on shore leave just a few days ago. I'll miss the Spring Festival I suppose, but I caught Arrival Day so I can't complain too much."

"I'm sure we'll be able to mark the occasion aboard." The harmoniser offered a grimace trying its best to be a smile.

"Pilot speaking: We've fully left the atmosphere now and our space thrusters are on. We'll be arriving aboard in five minutes. Thank you for your attention."

---

Five long days. Five days of the humdrum reality of life aboard a smoothly operating vessel like the Voice of the People, interspersed only by the ever-constant companion of the regular meetings to keep the envoys up to date on the latest information. The QIDF had sent several craft through the Gateway to both intentionally and randomly selected systems to test if it was functioning properly, every single one had managed its brief excursion without issue. Some had even picked up strange signals and broadcasts, in languages that Qinglong linguists could recognise, but often wildly different from what their old, pre-CoB language banks told them. Oddly however, Sol had been silent, its secrets locked away until something more than a probe could make a jaunt through.

Finally, though, the announcement that Liang had been waiting for echoed out across the ship. "Attention. Attention. Attention. IPC Voice of the People is approaching QGL-* 'Gateway.' All hands prepare for instantaneous transmission. This is not a drill. Repeat, all hands prepare for instantaneous transmission." Unfolding a seat from the wall, Liang settled down and placed their cane across their legs, and waited, expecting... Something? Anything? It seemed peculiar that after decades of spaceflight, the most momentous journey they had ever taken - a stride across a gap so vast it was quite literally incomprehensible to the human mind, could be carried out between two heartbeats, imperceptible without a view to the outside world.

So, Guan Liang waited patiently, fingers running across the handle of their cane. Their hand drifted slowly, up past their cuff, across the strap that held their Omnilink in place, to where the muscle of their arm gave way to an unnatural divot, its edges firmer and tougher than the surrounding skin, and within the divot, protecting their body from the outside world that would so gleefully take the open neural port as an opportunity, the thin, fragile membrane, spider-webbed with scars from where it had been pierced and re-healed a thousand times on a hundred deployments. The undeniable and irreversible consequence of serving the Accord in a battlesuit.

"Attention. Attention. Attention. IPC Voice of the People has completed instantaneous transmission to Sol System. You may now move freely throughout the vessel."

Well then. What now?

Requires Discipline winced as the scalding hot water poured over and between his scales. The stench of burning flesh reached his nostrils, and his entire body convulsed and shivered. As the water stopped, he shook himself dry before limping out of the purifying chamber. Grabbing his furs he pulled his hood over his head, hunching his back over he walked through the hallways of the Temple. The Holy avoided looking at him, as they shuffled awkwardly through the halls to avoid coming too close to him. He could hear their murmurs, and while it wasn't entirely unheard of for a Tainted to be within the confines of the temple it certainly wasn't a daily occurrence.

R-D as his friends called him, approached the Holy Ones quarters. Pausing as he looked up at the door. Normal protocol for anyone else was to knock, however R-D was tainted. He couldn't touch anything in the temple, even after his wash. Let alone the Deacons quarters. Perhaps the fact he had been asked for would overrule any traditional barrier that had been put up before him? He stood staring at the door for what felt like an eternity before it finally slid open in the seamless way that only the ancestors' technology seemed to achieve. Not even the sorcery of the Demons came close.

As the door opened, R-D immediately dropped to his knees when he was confronted by the Holy One, pulling his hood even lower to conceal his tarnished and bruised face.

{Rise young one.}

The Deacon swept with her hand, her hand moving far closer to R-Ds chin than any of the Holy had ever come. R-D nearly flinched in response, again all his years of learning protocol and what they could and couldn't do were useless in this current situation. R-D stood but kept his head bowed, staring down at the Holy Ones taloned feet.

{I have called you here because of who you are.}

Underneath his cowl, R-D raised his eyebrow, who he was? He hadn't been named Requires Discipline because he had behaved himself throughout his youth. He had pushed boundaries, convention, and the sanity of his elders to their limits. His crippled leg and lower arm were a result of the Discipline that had been required of him.

{Speak, Child.}

{I apologise Holy One. I do not understand, I am just one of the many, one of the Tainted and the dishonoured. The will of the Gods is yours to interpret.}

The Deacon chuckled slightly. {I understand child, come in-} She raised an arm to guide him into the room. {I understand that on many occasions, you have attempted to understudy the Shapers?}

Inside his head, RD winced slightly. Was this what it was about? Was he to be punished for heresy? What sort of punishment could The Holy One place upon him?

{To my shame, I have. I always felt that despite my duty I could better serve the Gods if I-}

The Deacon turned and raised her hand to stop him. Her face looked calm and peaceful. He recognised the caring expression, it mirrored that of the Nest-Fathers when he was a child. {I did not bring you here to punish you Child-} Did she know his thoughts? Was this one of the gifts that the Gods had bestowed upon her? He had heard tales of Deacons and Prophets who had gained fantastical and mystical abilities. Was the ability to read minds one of these abilities? {-instead I have come to encourage you.}

R-D couldn't help but look up to her in shock, several demon profanities spiralled through his mind at the sheer disbelief of what she had said. Throughout his entire life, he had been told to remain in his place, remember his station and what he was. Now, this?

{What I say next, does not leave this room-}

RD bowed his head. {I understand, Holy-One.}

{-the new star in the sky. Is the Demons Gateway, it has re-opened, and we need someone to go through it.}