Cath

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

“I am glad to hear you make good progress. I have instructed my craftsglen to assist in whatever way you deem appropriate. They tell me they are not currently able to make the same materials as you, but they are quick learners. With time, they will make fine understudies for you.”

Silbermine had given the flaming tree a wide berth since it had been clear he was disliked. When it addressed him, his ears flapped as if to deter a flying insect.

“Hunters from Sudenúr have foraged in those hills for millennia. They know every crag and ravine of that place, and gladly part with that information in exchange for the favour of their Lord. I imagine you must have seen many things on your travels. Does anything compare to our current predicament?” He looked back at the hill range and the mountains behind, then at Shirik.

The Mythadian group followed the beaten path as it skirted around a wiry purple tree and into the marshes. There were no hills in front for as far as the eye could see. Just one winding path through a misty field pocked with trees. The grass squelched under foot, and bugs chirped in the brackish ponds on either side. After a while, one of the knights began a slow and rhythmic chant. The Human translators struggled with the lyrics, as some of the phrases sounded very different from S’toric, like it was an entirely different language. The notes reverberated around the lungs of the massive Glen. Before long, the other knights and Glen-at-Arms joined in, harmonising with the stomp of Eva’s mech footsteps.

“I am curious to learn how you might approach a trial such as the Running.” Silbermine asked, ambling slowly among the smaller creatures.

“It is truly an enchanting event - a chance to prove your mettle and heap glory upon your name. Many groups participate, with some harbouring grudges going back generations. Any Monastic Order you ask for patronage has the right to enlist you on a quest. Is that something Humans are accustomed to?”

A few dozen feet from where the group trudged, two sanguine red eyes studied them. Inches above a pool of foetid water, studded into an obsidian head which could easily have passed for a rock. It watched them pass by, then sunk below the waterline. Tiny ripples followed alongside the travellers.

---

Zey stayed alert the entire time they trekked through the hills with the Tekeri.All manner of strange wildlife inhabited the area, and some watched inquisitively as they tackled the terrain. Zey took her mask off when it became particularly taxing, and the highly oxygenated air quickly restored her.

The high vantage points offered stunning views over plains and marshlands off to the right, and a dense forest basin surrounded by imposing mountains off to their left.

“We need to get a signal repeater up on that mountain at some point - that should fix any black spots. Anyone want to share that they’re actually a winter olympics gold medalist?” Zey joked to the group, using a handheld laser to mark the summit of the mountain they appeared to be skirting. It’d be a long and challenging climb, but if they were going to be stuck here for a while it’d be worthwhile.
Zey made it clear to her crew that there would always be one of them awake during this journey. They camped three times on land, and she took first watch each time. She spent this downtime planning their next moves, endlessly checking her gear and occasionally talking to some of the natives who appeared to be much more active in the night.

Eventually they made their way around the foothills and a view of a mediaeval village opened out before them. Nestled along a bend in the river, a sea of tents surrounded a cluster of quaint wooden dwellings. Zey marked this village on their map with her laser pen and hoped they were still within range of their lone comms mast. She took a quick video of it on her wrist pad as well.

The Captain looked disapprovingly at the boat once it became clear they would be sailing for the second leg of their journey. “Let's sweep the ship, make sure there aren’t any surprises.” She said privately to her crew. Zey then addressed Kareet.

“Are you sure these waterways are safe?”

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

Before Zey left for the Ascendency, she had a quick word with Ezra and Darnell. Despite not being part of the crew, they were important and less-than-predictable elements of the Human contingency. She felt it worth giving them specific instructions.

“Listen up. Anselm is in charge now, but I need you both to help her by being eyes and ears. If anything here seems strange at all, let her know. She’ll hopefully be able to reach both groups. Don’t do anything to jeopardise our position here - we’re in more than enough trouble as it is. And don’t fraternise with the rabble if you can help it. They’re still sizing us up, and an air of mystery might make us seem bigger than we are. Good luck.”

Shortly after the Captain and her group left, a pair of Lord Silbermine’s Glen-at-arms clanked up to the group destined for Mythadia. They informed the Humans that the noble’s cavalcade would be leaving for Keraknúr shortly. They were invited to ride with him as honoured guests under his protection. They’d be taking the most direct route back to the castle, through Sudenúr’s marshland.

Silbermine had earlier made a show of conceding his camp far up the slope. In exchange, organised opposition wasn’t arrayed against the main Mythadian camp creeping up the lower hillside from the swamp. This tent village followed the trough made by the Jotunheim’s rough arrival, and terminated not one hundred yards from the ridge that the ship rested on. Brightly coloured flags denoted particular services being offered by craftsglen and opportunistic merchants. Teams of young bucks worked rope pulley systems to pull shards of scrap metal from the earth around the trough. Spider drones supervised, blaring instructions in S’toric. One of the androids stood on the ridge cradling an assault rifle, looking down at the camp.

More recent arrivals stockpiled building materials at the edges of the camp that could be used for a variety of purposes. Building a border wall around the Jotunheim was one application. They could also be used to prepare infrastructure for a permanent settlement. A constant pung pung pung rung out as smiths began preparing all manner of fixings to begin construction.

The Glen-at-arms led the Human backpackers and lone mech through the tent village to an imposing tent which Silbermine had made his residence. It was pitched on a rare bit of flat land on the slope, and flew the House flag. Outside they could see two dozen armoured fighters being loaded with provisions, and in the middle Gesith Silbermine stood in full majestic armour.

The Glen all turned to watch as the Humans approached, especially Eva in her 8ft tall suit of armour. Then Silbermine brayed happily, clapping his hands together.

“Welcome, Humans, to our humble fellowship! The gods smile on our journey with fair weather and fine company. The path ahead is fair from civilisation, but nairy a night terror or bandit will trouble us with such mighty warriors arrayed against them. Now, are you prepared? Your leader mentioned you had lost something in the mire; my scouts have not reported back - we can search for it on the way?”

Eventually, the Mythadian party set off for a raised path that locals knew cut a relatively safe path through the marshes. Six knights accompanied Silbermine and the Humans, each with three Glen-at-arms under their command.

“Tell me.” Silbermine began the small talk after twenty minutes or so, addressing the group in general.

“How go repairs to your home?”

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

“Heard. Ping round a list, we’ll add it to our list of demands. It better not be unobtainium!” Zey shouted back to Arancini over her shoulder.

From there she went quickly back to her quarters and pulled on a light, fitted thermal jumpsuit. Grey, with Tamerlane’s logo on the breast. Zey then grabbed the pack she’d partly prepared last night from off the bed and took a quick look round the cramped, slightly uneven cabin. Breathing deeply a few times, she then locked the doors and went back downstairs.

Keying into the store room, Zey grabbed MREs. She then crossed to the armoury and unlocked a carbine with six magazines. She didn’t really have much experience with the M4’s distant successors, but had been frequently told they were easy to handle. After snapping it onto the side of her pack and slipping each magazine into webbed pockets, she approached Mallory who was doing the same.

“Listen…I know you have your reservations about this mission. But we won’t survive if we let others decide our fate. At this very moment, they’re enchanted by us, but it won’t last forever. Make the most of the mystique, get the supplies we need, then we can get the hell out of here. Hoo’ah?”

Vigdis was waiting at the bottom of the ramp when Zey exited fully equipped.

Zey smiled, then opened the map on her wristpad and turned her arm so Vigdis could see.

“Check the intranet. Kareet let us scan hers.”

She overlaid scans from the comms tower, which added 3D topography to the surrounding two hundred miles.

“It looks like we’ll have an escort each way, but we can’t be complacent. You ready?”

Zey cast an eye around. The crash site was a hive of activity, on both sides of the border. Plenty of warriors, with a fair smattering of dignitaries now too.

What Are You Listening To?

How high can we count before a mod gets involved?

15

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

Zey’s mask hung round her neck while she had a rare drink of the cloying morning air. Goosebumps prickled all up the back of her neck and down her arms. She ran one hand through her buzz cut. It made a rough rustling sound, like wire wool.

A faint smell of charred wood wafted into her nostrils. Zey looked at the small piles of ash in one corner of the clearing where they’d burned their dead. Her jaw tightened, and she tried not to think about Kiran joking with her at his crew interview.

Mallory opened up a comms channel, so Zey shoved an earpiece in and knelt down in the dirt.

“Comms will be patchy, but we have a good team going each way. We need to show these people we mean business, or someone is going to try their luck.”

“Sir, I've reviewed the comms mast three times.” Anselm entered the chat, from her position down the hill picking through bits of wreckage.

“We should be able to make a connection for three to four hundred miles. The weather is so-so, which means there may be black spots. But a close range network should have no problems.”

“Exactly. We may not be able to talk to each other but I trust you’ll get what we need and make a good impression. It’ll be just like a Space Academy dinner, Commander.”

Zey smiled. While she gave Mallory a lot of shit, she liked him and was trying to put him at ease.

She looked up upon hearing a squelching sound of claws in the mud. The one her computer identified as Kerchak/Kolva was approaching.

“Good morning. Feeling better? Sure.” Zey grinned humourlessly.

She nodded graciously when Kolvar apologised.

“I accept your apology. And you know what? I apologise too. This place, it’s… all new to us. We’re still trying to make sense of you all. What you did and said yesterday was…rash.” Zey chuckled drily as she reminisced.

“But you remind me of New Young Turks like my parents. They were persecuted and ridiculed by the new republic, forced to hide. They got drunk and passionate too. They just wanted to help.”

The Captain stared up at Kolvar from her seated position.

“Which is why I asked our doctor to bring out the wounded for you to examine.”
Arancini approached and gave her an update.

“Nice. How does it go with fabricating replacement parts for the VTOL?”

Zey flicked her comms back on.

“Doctor. How are we doing?”

“Coming down the ramp now, Captain.”

The ship’s doctor and his two assistants descended to the clearing, attending to three wounded humans. One had his leg in a cast, one had a bandage wrapped around most of their head, the other one had bandages around a gunshot wound through their shoulder.

“Kolvar. Remember our deal.” Zey’s eyes bored into the Kriliteran.

“If you transform without my permission, I’ll kill you. Heal my people, and I’ll be in your debt.”

The patients and their escorts arrived at Jotunheim’s telescopic docking ramp. Feng approached Zey and Kolvar. The Captain extended her arm and the doctor hauled her to her feet.

“Doctor, this Tekeri is going to examine our wounded now. I’m going to get ready.”

She turned her translator off.

“Watch him.”

Zey then turned on crew wide comms.

“This is your Captain. Giddy up, we leave in 20.”

She stalked back up the ramp into the ship.

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

Elite & Cath collab

Zey carefully turned her translator off, blinked at Vigdis over her shoulder and through her mask. The beasts of burden down the hill issued a chorus of screeches.

“This one seems happy for us to leave again.” She subtly flicked her head towards General Kvarr.

“I’m more worried about Lord Silbermine, which is why I’m going to send some of you to learn more about him.”

The Glen noble spoke up as if on cue. His voice was polite with a subtle gravelly undertone.

“My good General, your offer is most generous and yet unfounded in reality. This land belongs to Sudenúr, of which I am Lord Protector.”

Kvarr’s expression betrayed nothing, but as his private conversation with Nellara before had shown, this was just what he had been hoping for from Silbermine. “Unfortunately, Lord Silbermine, I believe you are mistaken in that regard. By treaty, the Ascendancy’s domain is the mountains, and a hill is still part of its mountain. But, such distinctions are also not terribly relevant here, I believe. Would you truly wish to deny the Humans their own domain in this world? It should be a show of good faith from the people of Kanth-Aremek that we give them the ability to live by their own command, rather than to force them to live by the rule of another while they are still trying to learn their way around our world. It would be quite unfair of us to try to force them to make binding agreements with those whom they know so little about.”
Silbermine snorted and tapped one hoof on the rocky ground.

“Surely not. The Humans are welcome to this scrap of hillside. I pray we can uncover this treaty and settle the matter of sovereignty once and for all.”

Esedel piped up, keen to keep her master in good spirits.

“My lord, building walls to keep the Humans sssafe will give you a chance to solidify the border in a new agreement. Bards will sing songs of this moment for years to come.”

“If we must build walls, my XO will forward Human designs from the database of our shipboard AI.” Zey chimed in.

Kvarr chimed in as well. “If it is to be your land, then it is your choice what you would like to put on it. If a wall is what you wish, then it sounds like Silbermine’s offer is generous. If you would prefer other means of keeping yourself safe, then I would certainly be happy to discuss it with you. As would the Archmagister, if you would wish to meet with her back in Arcaeda.”
Zey allowed herself a small smile. For a moment, she felt supremely powerful to have foreign dignitaries fawning over her. There was a pregnant pause for thought before she replied.

“We have decided to send one party to the Ascendency, and one to Mythadia. We want to pay our respects to both nations for extending their hospitality.”

---

For the moment, the three groups had an agreeable course of action. No doubt, the representatives of both of the neighboring nations believed that a more private meeting in their home territory would go in their favor, while the crew of the Jotunheim at least had some means of avoiding a war on their doorstep. It simply took a few hours worth of discussion, both between one another, and among themselves, to hash out the details of who would be traveling where, and when.

Among the Ascendancy, General Kvarr ordered Castigator Nellara to take a small force, enough to fit on one of their boats, and join in escorting the Human representatives back to Arcaeda. Seeker Kareet also requested to join, as she had reason to return to the Order of Sages, deliver a report, and consult with her superiors. She extended an invitation to Shirik and J’eon to do the same. Despite all that had happened, she had not forgotten about what had initially drawn them together. Her report on Shirik was the whole reason she had left Arcaeda to begin with, and the creature they had encountered with J’eon still stood out in her mind. The Humans might have overshadowed both in importance, but there was no harm in allowing the Sages to interview both. By a similar token, Kareet also invited the Kriliteran, as it was quite obvious why they might want to interview him. Of course, whether they accepted her invitation, found a reason to go to Mythadia, or simply went off on their own was entirely up to the three of them. Kareet was far too absorbed in her project with the Humans to put up much of an argument.

Zey ordered Mallory to take Eva, Dr Ibarra & Arancini and return to Keraknúr with Lord Silbermine. On the way there, they were to survey the Jotunheim’s approach vector to look for the lost shuttle. She stressed that it was important to build rapport with the nobleglen, learning as much as possible about his position in the wider Mythadian apparatus. She gave them trinkets and a list of other things they could offer in exchange for substantial aid.

The Captain herself would lead the expedition to the Ascendency, along with Fret Chappel, Vigdis and Dr Lambert, their resident xeno-biologist.

Zey was especially loathe to take the engineers away from their work. But it was obvious that they had made a connection with the locals, and had proven they could be diplomatic. Those were both things she needed for this mission to go well.

Ezra would continue guarding the Jotunheim and its contingent of civilians. The remaining crew would focus on training them up and putting them to work. Clara Anselm would be in charge in the Captain and XO’s absence.

It was agreed that they’d depart at first light tomorrow. Following the negotiations Zey ordered everyone back to work. Lunch was over.

---

Thunder and lightning lingered over the Jotunheim through the night. Zey barely slept,choosing instead to stare through the small windows on the ceiling of her quarters. It was loud even behind the ship’s reinforced hull, and she could feel every vibration as the ship settled.

After hours the thunder was replaced by torrential rain, which only began to subside at dawn. When the Captain came out to check conditions, a strong smell of ozone pervaded her nostrils. Puffy clouds filled the sky; a chill whispered down the back of her shirt.

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

“First and foremost, we need as many lightning mages as you can bring to bear quickly. Our ship needs a lot of energy in order to run properly.” Zey raised one finger on her right hand to illustrate.

“Secondly, we need our shuttle and spare parts back. It fell out when we crashed, somewhere over there.” She waved her hand towards the northern marshlands and the lake beyond. When it returned to her body it had two fingers upright.

“Thirdly, we need some of your clothing. Ours is liable to catch fire.”

A high-pitched whining sounded in Zey’s ears, making her grimace. Her unintentional gland use earlier was fucking with her recovery.

“Anything else?” She vaguely looked around at the assembled crewmembers. It seemed she was forgetting something.

“We could use some instruments.” The drummer chimed in, prompting some smatterings of laughter.

“Esteemed guests, first let me extend my gratitude for arranging this hearty feast.” Silbermine had gotten to his hooves from a kneeling position and extended both arms out at the long table. His knights made noises of agreement.

Nearby flags flapped in the wind.

“As agreed, I have taken the liberty of sending for tailors. Some of my scouts are surveying the marshes of Sudenúr as we speak to recover your possessions. I have also sent a rallying cry through Mythadia for Lightning mages to coalesce here and lend their services.”

That last claim was especially bold. Mythadia was not known for its organised procurement of magical ability.

“My castle, Keraknúr, is a gateway to Mythadia. I pray you visit my court as honoured guests. We can secure you more aid and perhaps even some land of your own?” What might have passed for the Nobleglen’s eyebrows in Human terms wiggled.

One of Esedel’s guards who had been with Kolvar just before came up to the Warden and whispered in her ear. Her eye’s narrowed and she looked for the Kriliteran.

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

“Right on. Strings, I will find for you.” The drummer flashed a smirk, then left the table again. She slinked over to the Glen musicians to ask about different instruments. She didn’t have a translator or anything sensible like that.

“Your talents know no bound, stranger. Do you know the Red Run to Rivenfrossst?” Esedel mentioned a song from the old empire, lamenting the firey destruction of the Myriad from the great city of Valor to the fortress of Rivenfrost.

Esedel promptly looked back at Kvarr. Her voice quietened somewhat

“What do you know of this cursed Iriad?”

---

“I see nothing I can use right now. Unless…maybe the intercom play outside the ship?” The vocalist asked. He tried playing around with one of the interfaces by the telescopic ramp door.

“Hello? Does this work?”

---

“When my weapon is raised, you’ll know about it.” Ezra muttered.

“How about these aliens stop wriggling and throwing up and shit first?” Darnell chimed in.

“It's ok, we’re playing nice. Aren’t we? We’re putting our weapons away and putting the past behind us.” Zey said firmly, eyeing up everyone in the group.

When Kareet mentioned slavery, the Captain glanced at the manacled S’tor. It wasn’t paying any attention - it was instead scanning the undergrowth and hills in the background. A distant sound rumbled over the crash site; it could’ve been rocks falling, or some large creature’s gravelly hunting call.

“Kercha-...Kolvar. We want to hear you out. Just not here. Come back to camp with us now; it's not safe here. You don’t like these S’tor people? Maybe Itxaro and Vigdis will let you lean on them instead. Perhaps the Castigator could help. How about that?” Zey was aware that she was using her patronising talking-to-drunks voice, but doubted the aliens would know that.

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

The band of musicians who’d sought refuge on the Jotunheim had left most of their equipment at port in Stavanger. The drummer had only a backup set of telescopic sticks, the lead guitarist only had the acoustic piece he strummed idly in between gigs. The vocalist had a dinky mixing device which could piece together thousands of pre-recorded sounds from their past. None of this stopped them from trying to join in with the Glen musicians who were playing classical tunes to please Lord Silbermine.

The drummer was the woman of the group; pale with tattoos covering her arms and a dishevelled bob of black hair on her head. Like the rest of the band, she wore black clothing. By passenger standards, she appeared fearless. Moving in between curious aliens, she tested the multitude of objects littered around the feast site for their percussive qualities.

After a little while, she bumped into Shirik.

“Woah, nice flames…do you play? You look very…metal.”

She was of course referring to the aesthetic relating to a genre of music that had clung stubbornly to life in the Nordics.

The vocalist, a tall man with long mousy brown hair and a beard, ambled over to where Vigdis sat with Kareet.

“Sorry to interrupt, you have a radio? Can you ask Bridge if there is a way to amplify our instruments?”

---

"We are no ssstrangers to migration in these turbulent times. The nobility are divided on the issue. Some cling to the ways of Kolodon, others are embracing their nomadic roots. None of it will matter though if the balance of power is disssrupted as you say…I must speak with my Lord, then let us strike at the meat of the problem together. Are you sure the Castigator will stand in line?”

---

Ezra twitched his gun out from under Itxaro’s hand and scowled angrily at her under his helmet. That sort of thing got people’s limbs torn up.

“Don’t they look a little like the ones who guarded the lizard who could read minds? The decorations…” Zey responded quietly before turning her attention back to this new lifeform.

“Your people? Who are your people? S’tor embrace others with open arms.” The S’tor guards holding Kolvar laughed.

“We have no quarrel with you. Please, let's return to the safety of the clearing. Do you feel well enough?” Sh’Vetza glanced nervously around the bushes. His own guards just stared directly at the Thought mage.

“Who are you here with? Are there more of you? Who sent you?” Darnell asked, talking over Zey’s shoulder.