Cath

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Dr Lambert squelched back toward the ship. As she got a bit closer she pinged Jack Mallory.

“Sir, the Captain has made a deal with the aliens. They’re going to help heal the wounded. Personally, I can’t wait to see what happens, but I don’t know my way around the civilians yet. Do they all have masks? Do we just get them out here and see what happens? I could use some help.”

---

“Copy that.” Zey replied to Ibarra.

“I look forward to our hunt.” Silbermine beamed, top lip folding up to reveal tombstone teeth.

The engineer then promptly left, leaving the Captain alone with Silbermine. His retinue stood in a loose pack behind him, watching the Tekeri camp nearby. There was a moment’s awkward silence.

“I have sent for tailors from a nearby town. They will bring the finest material.” The Glen began.

“Ah, perfect. Thank you. I was meaning to ask about that. I will ask the Ascendency as well.”

Silbermine scowled slightly, but carried on regardless. Zey couldn’t really discern his expression.

“Stone workers and engineers have arrived from across Mythadia. I’ve commanded them to begin work shoring up the ridge. Your temple is on unstable ground. Also, they can help buttress the walls to help prevent-”

“Lord Silbermine, we appreciate all your efforts. You have certainly been proactive with your aid…but I must insist you proceed with caution around my ship. It is very heavy but also very fragile right now. My crew are busy repairing the superstructure, and any changes to the lay of the land could undo all their work.”

Silbermine scratched his snout, thinking.

“I understand. The last thing I would wish on you is more destruction. What then can we do with these resources?”

It was then Zey’s turn to stroke her chin.

“What about fortifications?”

Silbermine’s ears flicked back violently. Zey thought it was in response to her question, but then some of his retinue turned and stared back out over the marshes.

Then she heard it - a blood curdling wail, like nails on a chalkboard. It wafted in from the North.

Within seconds, the Glen camp down the hill was alive with activity. An incredibly loud, bassy horn sounded.

“The Warden has come!” Silbermine breathed. His voice was equal parts excitement and…fear? He turned to look to the North as well. Zey walked to his side and squinted. She couldn’t see anything.

“Who is this Warden?”

“She protects the Northern Passage in the name of my House. A fearsome S’tor warrior.” Another horrible sound rolled up the hill, and Silbermine covered his ears.

“Ezra, tell me what you see.” Zey looked at the soldier, who was aiming down the sight of his rifle some three dozen paces away.

“Three big creatures with people riding them. They’re fast. Want me to take them down?”

“No, not yet.”

She looked to Silbermine.

“This is needlessly escalatory.”

“Quite the opposite! Wardens do not leave their post often. The Ascendency should feel honoured.”

After a few more moments, Zey was able to pick out three objects skimming through the lightly wooded marshes. They had long legs, big mouths and purply green, tractor-sized bodies. She couldn’t tell if they were naturally that cover or if they’d just been submerged in brackish water. There were tiny figures clutching their backs.

Zey turned off her translator and activated comms.

“Zey to Bridge, we have three bogeys approaching the lower camp. Track the leader and be ready to fire on my order.”

The creatures were nimble and fast for their size, picking a safe path through the marsh to the Glen camp in a matter of minutes. But they didn’t seem keen on getting close to the Glen that rushed out (hands over their ears) to greet them. Instead they let out vicious roars and stomped on the ground til the assembled reception moved back to at least forty paces. Their riders then got off.

All were in armour and carried big swords and shields on their backs, though the leader caught Zey’s eye. Their armour had exquisite yellow and green detailing that was clear to see, even from a distance. They were also very tall, head and shoulders over some of the Glen even with their antlers. They moved calmly and purposefully, but their whole frame was packed with tension. Like they could explode into action at any second.

This new group approached some of the watching Glen and exchanged a few words. Some people of the camp then pointed up the hill, to the Jotunheim. Behind the newcomers, their beasts promptly heaved like cats do when they’re coughing up fur balls. Opening their mouths, they each ejected a slimy figure onto the ground. Two helmeted S’tor guards and a manacled S’tor Thought mage.

Together, they made their way up the hill towards the Jotunheim.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Zey eyed Dr Ibarra carefully, then glanced over at the flaming Iriad.

“Shirik did save you earlier. They seem to know the area well too. Though if you think one of the birds would be more suitable, I'll leave it up to you. I would prefer you take one of the crew as well though. Maybe Bosko? He can fly the shuttle back with you in it if it's still intact. Failing that, one of the survey team.”

“Toxicology looks good. What else?” Dr Lambert interrupted.

“Thanks. Would you bring the wounded outside? Some of these creatures claim to be able to heal them.” Zey replied distractedly.

Dr Lambert sighed.

“Aye aye.”

“What say you?” Silbermine asked politely, fingers knitted together.

“We’ll go with you - we’re just deciding who will go. Can you guarantee our protection?”

“Commander, the citizens of Sudenúr look to me for protection. You can expect the same consideration on their territory.”

“Very good.” Zey purred, picking up the rest of the fish steak and taking a bite.

---

Dr Fortin scowled, then looked down at his belt buckle. “Alright. I’ll set something up.”

Dr Feng nodded solemnly. “Copy that.”

“Oh, also!” Zhao Jiayin piped up again.

We need to take cannon offline for three, maybe four hour tonight to inspect rotary system. That’s ok?”

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Zey’s eyes widened slightly out of concern when Ibarra told her about their close encounter that morning. She reached over and gave her crewmate’s shoulder a squeeze.

“You’re still quite wet even now. That climb back must have been hard work.” She chuckled lightly, then looked to Shirik.

“Thank you. For looking after my crew, on the water and with this delightful fare.” She nodded gratefully and listened as the burning tree explained the longevity of the meat they had prepared.

“If this protein isn’t harmful to us, I’d be interested in negotating for a steady supply of cooked produce. We have enough artificial food to last a while, but fresh fish would make a nice supplement. Is that something you’re interested in? What would you need in return?”

Zey took the leaf with a hunk of fish on it.

“Thank you.” She looked around. Lo and behold, Dr Iris Lambert was skirting round the Jotunheim towards her, having exited the ship holding a handheld device. Zey waved her over.

Shortly after, she could hear the sound of multiple Glen approaching. Zey turned and saw Silbermine with his retinue cresting the ridge from down below. They were armoured, but with their weapons sheathed. Silbermine’s set really was impressive, she though. He even had gold rings and religious-seeming ornaments attached to his antlers that shone in the sun.

The dynamic in the camp instantly changed, yet the Captain stood her ground.

Silbermine spread his arms and began talking. Zey’s translator didn’t pick him up at first over the distance, with the first words being ‘large box’. It took her a moment to understand what he was talking about.

“What? Oh, large box! Yes. Are you hungry? We were just cooking some lunch.”

“I’m afraid we cannot eat such things. We do have some mushrooms (or at least a close approximation, Wodan assured them.) that cook nicely. Go fetch them.” That last part, Silbermine directed to one of his people, who duly cantered away towards their camp.

Zey turned to Ibarra as Silbermine approached, turning the translator off.

“I’d send the survey team but one of them has to be with the comms relay until we can be sure the hunters don’t come back. No one is leaving with them unless they have a buddy.”

She activated all-crew comms.

“Do i have any volunteers for an EVA to retrieve the shuttle and cargo from the swamp?”

Dr Lambert arrived at the makeshift dinner table, staring at Silbermine.

“Fascinating.”

“Food first, Glen later. Here, test this fish steak.”

Dr Lambert took the proferred leaf, tore off a bit of the flesh and stuck it into the small box that clicked out of her device’s underside.

---

The Captain’s request for volunteers came in right after Mallory asked for questions. Zhao chimed in immediately.

“Finding shuttle is menial task, the civilians can do that, right? My engineers are too valuable.”

“Oh, will that be in the marshes? I’d like to take some soil samples. However, i have some concerns about Dr Lambert inducting the new recruits into the department…” Dr Fortin murmured, trailing off.

“I can have my trainees bring the bodies out for cremation as per your last message, sir. My only question is when you want to do that?” Dr Feng asked.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Silbermine fell asleep early, content from a hearty meal of foraged fruits and fungi. He woke at dawn with aches in his joints but a ripple of excitement in his stomachs. His ears twitched - he could hear more Glen making camp, down the hill.

He called two retainers who worked quickly to fit Silbermine’s barding. Then he gathered Sir Sweven and most of his Glen-at-arms, and headed for the sound. Just a few Glen remained with the camp, entrusted with a horn to sound the alarm if the Ascendency tried anything.

They had to skirt the Jotunheim’s burned out clearing to traverse down the hill. Silbermine looked out at the magnificent, broken temple as they did so. It still awed him to think that this enormous mass once flew through the sky. He was determined to find out how.

He turned his gaze out towards the marshes of Sudenúr. A cluster of brightly coloured tents fluttered in the morning breeze. The ground around them was abuzz with activity already. Engineers organised the supplies they’d brought, and knights marshalled their servants to build shelters and defences.

Silbermine clopped down the hill, tracing back the trail of destruction the Jotunheim had left in its wake. The assembled Glen all looked up and came to greet him. They’d conversed the previous evening, but Silbermine was quick to take some of their vellum and retreat back to his tent. From there he had carefully scribed a series of letters and edicts for his supporters back home and across Mythadia.

His message was clear - he had discovered a new race of peoples on the edge of this sorry March who were supremely powerful and in possession of vast wealth. Silbermine entreated them to send Lightning mages as quickly as possible. He called in a lot of favours, but also dangled the carrot of exotic knowledge, divine enlightenment and unimaginable treasure.

When Silbermine reached the crowd a second time, he gestured to Sir Sweven and took the letters, holding them aloft.

“The righteous might of Mythadia shall be with us in our quest to learn from, partner with and protect these Humans. Who will go forth and deliver my will to our friends and allies?”

There was no shortage of volunteers. Silbermine picked his most loyal soldiers for the task. He then sent a group of Glen to Ertiseda to find a tailor and bring them here. It was an Ascendency town, but with a large minority who visited Mythadia regularly. He didn’t foresee major problems if the Glen were respectful.

Finally, Silbermine set to establishing a party to look for this ‘large box’ the Human captain Zey had mentioned. This took a significant amount of time, as many Glen wanted to get involved. Too many, as it would leave the camp open to attack. The squabbling lasted a long time, and after a while Silbermine smelled cooking up on the hill.

Taking his leave, Silbermine clopped back up the hill with his entourage in tow. Cresting the ridge the Jotunheim sat on, Silbermine spread his hands to show he was not a threat.

“Greetings! We go to look for this ‘large box’ you speak of, Humans. We beseech you to join us and bring your practiced eye to this hunt.”

Silbermine drew nearer and saw they were cooking fish. His stomachs rumbled, even though he could not eat what was on offer.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“Hmmmm.” Zey’s eyes narrowed, and she looked up into the many eyes of Kerchak, the bird creature standing before her. She hadn’t figured out any of the body language cues that made communicating with fellow Humans much easier.

“Ok, how about this. If you can find someone to vouch for you, I’ll allow you to heal all of the wounded crew and passengers without pay. You can learn more about our anatomy, but I never want to see you turn into one of us without my permission. We’ll have a big problem, and we don’t like big problems, do we Ezra?”

Zey looked at the armoured mercenary stood with his big gun next to her.

“Can’t stand them, ma’am.”

Zey looked back at Kerchak.

“I’ll have some of the wounded brought out today so you can get started.”

Zey’s earpiece pinged, and Anselm came through comms.

“Department heads to the conference room to finalise supervisor allocations.”

That would mean Mallory (who was head of the command crew when she wasn’t needed for executive decisions), Zhao Jiayin (engineering), Eva Edwards (Survey), Edward Fortin (Science) and Duncan Feng (Medical).

---

The Department heads hustled into the conference room - they were all busy but equally keen to secure more resources for their teams.

“I don’t need stupid people in my team. Give me sensible ones who’re good with their hands.” Zhao kicked off the meeting on a cordial note.
“Hold on, you’re not the only one who needs people who’re good with their hands, Zhao.” Feng replied in a calm, even tone.

“Though at this stage i’ll take anyone who won’t faint at the sight of blood.”

“We all need sensible people who’re good with their hands. But I wager that in the science team curiosity is the trait we’re in most need of. The equipment is all fairly self explanatory! The pieces that still work, anyway.” Edward Fortin chuckled.

---

Zey stalked over to the commotion surrounding what appeared to be some large fish.

“Dr Lambert, we have some more alien food here - can you bring the testing kit please?”

She then addressed Shirik and Dr Ibarra.

“Nice catch. Where did you find this?”

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

@gatemirage

"Ah, a force mage! Interesting...How much weight can you...pull?" Silbermine replied, not stopping the onslaught of fruit entering his gullet.

"Temple or not...it is evidently of great importance to them...And so worth protecting." The sound of wood chopping, clanging metal and clopping hooves filtered through the draped entrance to his tent.

"It is not so much falling apart, as about to fall down...the hill i mean. So i suppose the first thing I want you to do is assess the likelihood of that happening. As fast as possible. Forces are already in motion beyond your wildest imagination! Now please, my Glen-at-Arms will give you something to eat before night draws us to sleep."

With that, a barely perceptible wave of the hand signalled for Subira to make herself scarce.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“Realistically, how long do they need in the sim?” Zey asked Ezra. They stood in the shallowest part of the trench around the Jotunheim; overlooking the marshes and trail of destruction the ship had left as it spun. At this point, it was only knee high, you were only covered if you sat down.

“Minimum, so I'm happy they have a gun around me? Thirty hours. But becoming a soldier is more than just hitting targets. They have to learn to manoeuvre as team. Use comms effectively. I did say it is best to train people from day one but…”

“Yes, I know. I don’t want to get the civilians involved because they’re fucking terrified, Ezra. I’m only doing this because I have to. It's my crew who will get the flak from them, not you.”

Zey watched the rapidly expanding camp of Mythadians down near the bottom of the hill. More of them were arriving all the time. The Ascendency had sent more troops as well. She sighed.

“The sim is going to be too slow, isn’t it? If we bring them outside, how many can you train?”

“You have the guns to teach twelve people Tironut at a time.”

“Sorry, what?”

“Tironut. Israeli army training. My team trained militia in Kenya.”

“Fine. I’ll talk to the civilians and reassure them first. I’m not looking for an armed mutiny.”

They were interrupted by a Tekeri. Zey glanced down at her tablet and Wodan informed her that this one was Kerchak, the shapeshifter. They asked about helping the wounded in exchange for studying anatomy.

“I will be honest with you, Kerchak. I don’t like the idea of anyone of you impersonating a Human, at any time. However, we could use some help with the wounds our people have sustained…"

Zey had a thought.

“Can you only turn into an exact copy of the things you study? Also, do you study your subjects at the same time as healing them? Or is that a separate process? The reason I ask is that we are going to cremate…burn some of our dead today as a…mark of respect. You may study those corpses, because then we’ll know it's you if you ever shapeshift."

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“Good morning, sir.” Clara Anselm replied from the comms desk. She didn’t turn or look at Mallory. She was leant toward one screen, controlling a spider droid as it inspected a crumpled tangle of metal that had been partially embedded in the mud.

“More aliens arrived down the slope.” She reported, carefully teasing what could have been a comms dish out of the pile.

“Silbermine went and visited them just now. Looks like some of them brought buttresses to install - Cap told me to flag if they start coming closer. Armament is hot. Fuck!”

The spider drone had flipped the devastated comms dish over to find not just a gouge down the middle, but a large, squishy caterpillar type bug stuck to the metal. Anselm flicked the joystick and the spider drone squashed the dish hard against the ground.

A light blinked on Mallory’s console and a message from Zey blinked up on screen:

“Good morning!

• Wodan has finished programming the live-fire sim. Start weapons training regime for passengers and crew round the clock
• Prepare bodies for external cremation
• Circulate list of passenger work assignments, designated supervisor and rota

Ta
ZK”

Wodan chimed in straight away after its eye tracker concluded Mallory had finished reading.

“I would recommend using the Recreation Room to host VR simulations. I have programmed a step by step weapon handling tutorial and three hundred and sixty degree firing range sim. I’ve also mapped every weapon in the armoury for use as a ‘controller’. I would recommend unloading the weapons before allowing untrained supplementary personnel to handle them.

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

Silbermine returned to his camp with mixed emotions. So caught up in his own thoughts was he, that the Lord didn’t even notice Subira approaching his group. It was one of his retinue who greeted her and invited her to join them.

On the one hand, Silbermine was jubilant that he’d met with these strange new people and managed to make his proposal. They were clearly in need of help, and their ‘commander’ had been open to the idea of participating in The Running, so he counted that as a win. All this talk of rare metals was a big bonus that he fully intended to exploit at a time of his choosing.

On the other hand, he was furious with the rabble that had seemed intent on insulting him and his station. Silbermine realised the Humans had even contributed in some ways to the assaults, now he’d had a chance to go back through the events in his head. He would need to assess whether these Humans could be loyal to him or fickle, playing both sides.

It was only after they’d arrived at camp and Silbermine had changed into something a little more practical that he was informed that a stoneworker and surveyor had arrived. He was getting a little agitated that all the reinforcements he’d ordered hadn’t arrived yet, but at least this was a start.

Silbermine had Subira approach him in his tent. It was spacious inside but sparsely furnished, with only a few large cushions and low tables. Silbermine was kneeling on one such large cushion, eating from a bowl of fruit.

“My Glen tell me you’re a stoneworker. What do you make of the Humans’ temple? Have you seen anything like it before? I promised the Humans engineers who could buttress their temple, stop it falling apart. Tomorrow you will make your services available to them in the name of House Silbermine. See if you can gain access to the inside - I wish to know more about this thing.”

---

More soldiers and artisans loyal to Silbermine began arriving shortly after, trickling in from the countryside all around Keraknúr as word spread of their Lord’s great campaign. In all they numbered forty by the end of the day. These Mythadians set up a separate camp at the bottom of the slope, near the edge of the marsh where they could marvel at the Jotunheim with uninterrupted views.

This trickle of Glen and Tekeri continued in the early morning. They chattered excitedly - there had been strange sounds drifting across the marshes all night. Could the Warden of the Northern Passage really be nearby?

The Eye of the Needle (where Fantasy and Sci-fi collide)

“Flash bangs, not tear gas, Jotun Actual. A little fire wouldn’t be so bad in this situation, all things considered. Please advise.” Fret Chappel replied. He had a flash bang in his left hand, index finger stuck through the pin and ready to pull. His other hand grasped his rifle while it pointed towards the ground. He was wearing full gear including a black full face helmet.

Eva was in her Javelin nearby, standing protectively over the compact comms relay and several cases of equipment they had just set up. The towering mech whirred whenever it moved, so she was remaining very still to avoid startling the natives.

The range of hills had wonderful views from the little flat clearing at the apex they’d chosen. On one side was a forested basin with a lake partially visible through the trees. Mountains reached for the sky as far as the eye could see. On the other side was a dramatic vista of the floodplains draining into a vast body of water.

Fret wasn’t interested in that right now though. Surrounding them (but staying at least fifty feet away through the bushes) were half a dozen leather-clad Tekeri with bows. They looked quite dishevelled and appeared to have daubed their feathers in some dark red substance. It stunk when the wind carried it.

---

Zey gave a thumbs up to the Glen blacksmith, slightly creeped out by what she assumed was a smile. She put a hand up to her ear instinctively when Mallory came through.

“Copy that. Ibarra is Oscar Mike, as are some of the natives. Prep a team - nobody touches the comms relay except us.” Zey replied to Mallory after he reported what was going on further up the hill.

She signed off when all the natives began speaking to her. The first was Vigdis, who like many of the crew was very good at slotting in immediately after she’d finished on her comms unit.

“Alright, so we figure out if this planet contains the minerals, get the natives to mine it, then Arancini smelt it for them. Right Arancini?” Zey called to the Jotunheim’s machinist.

Immediately following Vigdis was Kareet, the well preened scholar.

“We’re happy to tell you about the Human race. We’re not comfortable with anyone pretending to be us though.”

Zey shot a glance at Kerchak, who she’d heard openly discussing the possibility of mimicking her crew’s appearance.

“I’ll let my engineers discuss the details of your electric…magic. But that is much appreciated. Thank you.”

Next was the spooky flaming tree.

“We may need food, depending on how long we stay. Is there game in these parts?

Finally, Zey turned to Nellara, who was occupying a strategic piece of dirt between the Glen lord and as many of her crew as possible.

“Yes, of course I understand. Right now though, my crew is in danger from some Tekeri on your territory. Shall we go and figure this out before someone gets hurt, hmm?”

---

The hunters chattered loudly to each other in a dialect that Wodan’s translation software was having trouble deciphering.“What are you saying?” Fret shouted. A few of the Tekeri started forward; they could be startlingly fast when they wanted to be.

“Hey hey hey!” Fret yelled. He pointed his rifle straight up in the air and pulled the trigger.

A loud rifle crack sounded out, rolling down the hillside and echoing off the closest mountains. Fret raised his other palm, with the flash bang in it towards the closest hunter, but there was no need. The Tekeri instantly recoiled at the gun and scattered, running back behind nearby trees and dense bushes.

---

Zey heard the shot and instantly craned her neck to look up the hill. All the Glen jolted, fighting instinctual skittishness.

The Captain connected to the Bridge again, a hint of urgency in her voice.

“I heard a shot, what's happening?”

It was Fret Chappel who sent a blanket message to all comms units via the new relay.

“This is Chappel. Contacts are gone, for now. Over.”