sorry I haven't been on for ages, my birthday 2 days ago and this is the first time I could get on the comp

Chapter 10, part 3
High One

The Advent

5 years ago, phase space

    Haiti opened his eyes, and immediately cupped his hand to his forehead. Nothing there, no mark, no dried blood. It was contained in the vision, then. He sat up slowly, surprised at the effort in which it took, and surveyed his surroundings. He was in his ship's med bay, that much was obviously clear, but the question was why was he here. He looked down at his other arm, and saw it wrapped in bandages. That reminded him. Veronica had tried to kill him, she had stabbed him with a knife. But she had not known fully of the connection between them, and had inflicted upon herself the exact wound she had caused on him. So if he was here...
    Haiti leaned over and peered at the other bed. Veronica lay there, still as newly fallen snow, her left arm also wrapped in bandages. He looked down at his own left arm. It was only fitting. Getting hesitantly to his feet, he stood over her, flashing back briefly to the time when he was first created, when he could only walk using great effort. It did not rankle him that he was a product of an experiment. The point was that he was created, and he was successful. The High One, after all, had created the Advent in the beginning of time. Haiti was only the next step in their evolution. But he was digressing. Holding out both arms over Veronica, his left arm difficult due to the mound of bandages, he chanted slowly, feeling the power croon.
    "Power of her become power of mine," he whispered, feeling a resonance inside Veronica. He was calling out to Veronica's PsiTech, calling out to all those little gadgets and machinery self-implanted into the Advent cranium. Tapping into those, Haiti could draw out Veronica's full augmented power, not just her original talent that he would get just from invading her mind. This was much, much more. A slight twitch formed in his upper right brow. That was the site of Haiti's most recent self-surgery. Would his own implants survive the transferal process? That was a risk he was willing to take. Without his implants, his skill nearly matched Veronica's at her most augmented. Without his implants, Veronica would be ranked higher than him and replace him as High Coalescence. But it was a risk he was willing to take.
    "Power of her become power of mine."
    Spoken in the language of the High One, this was psionic skill at its best. Merely speaking these words would kill a normal Advent. What Haiti was saying was, "Power of her become power of mine." He was drawing out Veronica's psionic power, drawing out her PsiTech and isolating it, compartmentalizing it, and bringing the chunks of raw psionic power into him. He was stealing Veronica's PsiTech from her.
    "Power of her become power of mine."
    Haiti gasped as Veronica's raw psionic power flowed into him. On the bed, Veronica's body jerked and flopped, as if it was tied down and was trying to free itself. A trickle of blood flowed from her right shoulder. That was where her largest implant was, well, implanted. Down her arm, little pricks of blood formed. Those must have been where she had injected the neurochemicals. Strong doses like the ones the Coalesci were able to manufacture, for no Advent would shame herself, or himself, so to use someone else's neurochemicals, needed only to be injected once every thirty years or so, still often in an Advent's lifetime, but much better than the normal public's every five years, or the children's every week. One last tug, and Veronica's PsiTech was his. Haiti's eyes shone with the new psionic power inside him. There was no need to 'borrow' Veronica's power anymore, now it belonged to him.
    Now Veronica was a Silent One.
    Wake up, dear sister, we have much to discuss.
    Veronica's eyes jerked open, and she sat up with a gasp. Her eyes were dark, no longer infused with the PsiTech that made the Advent unique. She looked at Haiti standing over her and tried to scream, but the sound would not leave her throat. Making a small, choking noise, she flopped back down on the bed. Haiti psionically released her larynx.
    "What a shame," Haiti said smoothly, circling Veronica, "what the Unity will say when a Silent One is discovered on one of their ships! What do you think they'll do to the poor, ignorant fool?"
    "What have you done?!?" Veronica cried, feeling her now smooth face, and the stream of blood flowing down her arm. Gone were the age lines of the Unity. She was cast out, and she could never return. But she didn't know that. Haiti picked up a cloth and wiped the blood from Veronica's arm, speaking while he did so.
    "I have taken from you your PsiTech. It is up to you to decide whether or not you would like me to return it."
    "You are an abomination!" Veronica screamed, futilely trying to hit Haiti. He casually moved out of her reach and psionically forced her back onto her bed.
    "Listen carefully," he hissed into her ear, "you have only one chance for me to return your PsiTech. You will do exactly as I say, or I will reveal you to the rest of the Unity, and you can imagine their...displeasure."
    Veronica gulped, her eyes wide. She took a shaky breath, and seemed to calm herself.
    "Tell me what I have to do."
    Haiti stepped back and studied her as if she was a fascinating work of art.
    "You will infiltrate the aliens."
    "The Traders? I don't understand."
    "Not the Traders," Haiti said calmly, "the other ones. The ones that came from the wormhole."
    "But the phase lane was destroyed!" Veronica protested.
    "I know someone who can rebuild it. All you need to do is be ready to enter it."
    "But I don't look like the aliens! We don't even know what they look like!" Veronica was grasping at straws.
    "I saw them in a vision before you attacked me." Haiti said the words smoothly, yet a hint of coldness entered his tone. Veronica took a step back.
    "Because of you, the rest of the visions will never be known, which could have great repercussions. But for now you will look like these...Vasari."
    "What is Vasari?" Veronica asked, confused.
    "The name these aliens call themselves. That and their image is all I know, yet it will be enough. You will learn all you can about them, and contact me once you have enough information to persuade me to return your PsiTech to you."
    "How will you change my image?" Veronica asked shakily.
    "It is already done." Haiti answered with a smirk.
    Veronica turned slowly towards the full-length mirror that stood across the room from her. She walked slowly forwards. In the mirror, a monster looked back at her. She slowly reached up to touch her face. The monster imitated her. Veronica screamed.


    "I request an audience with the High One," Haiti murmured, alone in his chambers. <I request an audience with the High One.>
    The High One is here. The High One speaks. What is your wish of the High One? A deep voice answered him. <The High One is here. The High One speaks. What is your wish of the High One?>
    "High One," Haiti breathed, dropping to the floor, "I request a favor from you."
    And why should I grant this favor? <And why should I grant this favor?>
    "I need to learn who these aliens are, what their weapons are like, so I can combat them."
    I? Surely you mean we. The Unity needs to know how they fight, not you. <I? Surely you mean we. The Unity needs to know how they fight, not you.>
    "I am the Unity," Haiti responded.
    The High One was silent for a while.
    You are rash and foolhardy. What are you, to the Unity? Just another High Coalescence, which means, if you didn't know, 'pupil to the One.' You are my pupil, and I say you are arrogant. If you died, the Unity would just select a new High Coalescence, after some grieving. You would be forgotten to them. <You are rash and foolhardy. What are you, to the Unity? Just another High Coalescence, which means, if you didn't know, 'pupil to the One.' You are my pupil, and I say you are arrogant. If you died, the Unity would just select a new High Coalescence, after some grieving. You would be forgotten to them.>
    "Without me, the Unity would fail," Haiti argued, "without me, there would be no Reemergence! I am the only Advent strong enough to lead us to victory. I am the strongest Advent in the history of our race! What one does to another, that will happen to him as well. Right, High One? What one does to another, that will happen to him as well. The Advent have given me unimaginable power, and I will return to them their lost home world!"
    You think I have not the power to lead the Advent? I CREATED the Advent! If it is my wish for them to return to our desert planet of old, I will do it! And do not think for ONE moment that I would stop to consult you! You are not my creation, you are an abomination! <You think I have not the power to lead the Advent? I CREATED the Advent! If it is my wish for them to return to our desert planet of old, I will do it! And do not think for ONE moment that I would stop to consult you! You are not my creation, you are an abomination!>
    "I beg your forgiveness, High One," Haiti replied after a pause, pressing himself again to the floor, "I spoke out of haste and foolhardiness, which you said I have, and I agree. You are all-powerful and the one great ruler of our species. Still, would you not help me? Reestablish one simple phase lane, and the entire Unity would thank you. I am acting only in the interest of the Unity, and if I spoke harshly, it is only my foolishness speaking. I beg you to help the Unity, High One." <I beg your forgiveness, High One. I spoke out of haste and foolhardiness, which you said I have, and I agree. You are all-powerful and the one great ruler of our species. Still, would you not help me? Reestablish one simple phase lane, and the entire Unity would thank you. I am acting only in the interest of the Unity, and if I spoke harshly, it is only my foolishness speaking. I beg you to help the Unity, High One.>
    The High One stepped into Haiti's vision, and Haiti blinked in surprise. Normally, the High One was just a dark shadow at the edge of his vision, always just out of sight no matter how quickly he turned. Now though, the High One formed himself into a dark shadowy representation of a human body, and sat himself in one of the great armchairs of Haiti's stateroom. He motioned for Haiti to sit across from him. Haiti did, and a holographic map of the galaxy formed in front of him.
    You speak of Area 305, 741? <You speak of Area 305, 741?>
    "I do, High One," Haiti answered, a glimmer of hope returning to his voice. He had accepted! The Reemergence would succeed!
    I cannot return it indefinitely. You will have one day, twenty-four hours, to enter the wormhole. If you value your lives and the success of the Reemergence, you will return through the wormhole before that period of time is up, or the Reemergence will surely lose. This is no normal phase lane. <I cannot return it indefinitely. You will have one day, twenty-four hours, to enter the wormhole. If you value your lives and the success of the Reemergence, you will return through the wormhole before that period of time is up, or the Reemergence will surely lose. This is no normal phase lane.>
    "What was the phase lane originally? How was it different than normal phase lanes?"
    The original phase lane bent not only space, but time as well. The Vasari craft that entered it came from five years into the past. <The original phase lane bent not only space, but time as well. The Vasari craft that entered it came from five years into the past.>
    "That will do fine, High One," Haiti said, joy bubbling up inside him. His plan would work perfectly! "And I do not plan to enter the wormhole in any case."
    What do you plan to do, then? <What do you plan to do, then?>
    Haiti outlined his plan. The High One's human figure grinned.
    She will not like it. <She will not like it.>
    "She has no choice. You will reestablish a phase lane between the wormholes, then?"
    It is already done. Good hunting, Haiti. <It is already done. Good hunting, Haiti.> The High One vanished.
    Good hunting, Haiti. Haiti smiled. What an interesting phrase. He might start using that himself. Now, to get Veronica onto a ship.

The Vasari

8 years ago, galactic position 411, 814, planet code named OREGION

    "Fleet Admiral Commander!"
    Flankx inflated his vocal strings with a hiss. "This had better be important, Eviscerate!"
    "Fleet Admiral Commander, the wormhole has reopened!"
    "What wormhole?" Flankx asked angrily.
    "Position 305, 741! The wormhole we named Esquian's Fall! It has reopened!"
    Flankx choked.

you can see it chrome. great chapter btw  keep em comin  

In the manual, they refer to PsiTech as being the Advent's actual "power," not just the augmented side. Now, I'm not saying what you said was wrong, and I'll likely be changing the Kol 2.0 chapter, but for Haiti and Veronica, I believe it works perfectly. The neurochemicals and implants only augment an Advent's abilities, it doesn't create them. If Haiti removes Veronica's original PsiTech, those augments would be useless. Multiplying anything by zero is still zero. Kind of what you were saying at the end, but that's how I see it.

"At an early age, Advent children are taught to seek enlightenment in whichever way naturally suits them and it is common to see even the very young using neurochemicals or artificial implants to augment their mental abilities. This advanced level of integration with their technology – known as PsiTech – is largely responsible for the Advent‘s strange sense of collectivism, and allows them to share their thoughts and feelings on an almost innate level." - Sins manual

Ok, so rereading the manual, PsiTech is the combination of natural and augmented power. I'll be rewriting that chapter too. Thanks for pointing that out.

typo, i guess. third paragraph. just wanted to bring that to your attention

yeah i've been reading that. and why does the High One have to be human? Not saying yes or no, just want to know your reasoning.

thanks, i forgot the word survive.

Well, a scientist could have a low rank and still work on the ship. A higher rank would more likely delegate it to someone lower. Or that's how I saw it.

Actually, I went back again and replaced points of antimatter to units of antimatter. I liked that better.

Chapter 11, part 1
The Watcher

The Vasari

8 years ago, galactic position 305, 741, space anomaly named Esquian's Fall

    "Capital ship Rakulas in position, Fleet Admiral Commander," Aeb'nir spoke into the transceiver.
    There was a hiss of static as Flankx hissed himself on the other end. "Approach and apprehend. Send in the Mani'k first."
    "Your will, Fleet Admiral Commander," Aeb'nir replied, looking down and touching his forehead with his forefinger. The Fleet Admiral Commander couldn't see him, but that did not mean Aeb'nir would throw away such deeply-rooted tradition.
    Aeb'nir pressed a button and a Mani'k, face hidden by what they called a face shield, appeared on the transceiver's holographic display system.
    "You have first contact. Stay within radio distance of the back-up crew at all times." Aeb'nir hissed at the figure.
    "Understood, Elite Subjugator." The Mani'k saluted and the holographic image disappeared.
    Aeb'nir leaned back in his command chair and studied the object hovering in space intently. It could have been a Vasari craft, once, but it was too destroyed now to tell. Any markings that would have been on the outer hull were too charred out to establish, and the frame had been so distorted it could have been a product of the Darkness and they wouldn't be able to tell. That thought made Aeb'nir shiver. He would give anything he owned not to be one of the Mani'k entering that thing right now. But then, if he was Mani'k, he wouldn't be having these feelings anyway. The ship shuddered as the tiny boarding craft sped off, packed to the brim with Mani'k. Aeb'nir wished he could offer a blessing to them, but he didn't know a single one of their names. He sighed, his vocal strings dilating to near the farthest they could go. He was going to have to change things.

    Mani'k Yorashknir stood silently as the pilot skillfully flew the boarding striker through space. He was very nearly sweating out of his skin. Yorashknir smiled at that. No doubt the cause of his alarm was the thirty-odd Mani'k piled into the back of the craft. Yorashknir and two guards were the only ones present in the cockpit, and that was crowded as it was. Leaning forward, he rested his postmorteyim against the wall of the cockpit and studied the floating wreck, swiftly approaching. The pilot glanced at the intricate symbols crisscrossing the spear and shivered. He very nearly let out a whimper! Yorashknir leaned back and sneered. Sometimes the rest of the Vasari seemed unbearable. Of course, soon they would not matter anyway. Once they were dead. Once the Da'Mani'k became the Fleet Admiral Commander, the Exodus would have no need of the rest of the Vasari. You were either Mani'k, or you were nothing. There was a bump against the fore of the ship, and Yorashknir stumbled. Darkness take him, he had forgotten to watch the wreck! Now they were right alongside it, and the nanodrills along the forward hull were digging an entrance into the wreck's hull. Yorashknir glided out of the cockpit and went to the back of the striker, where the rest of the Mani'k were standing patiently at attention, spears grasped firmly in their hands.
    "Into the alleys," Yorashknir growled, gripping his own spear tightly himself. In moments the nanodrills would push their way in, and he wanted the Mani'k right behind them. The Mani'k filed out through two passages, one on the right and on one the left. The Vasari called them the alleys simply because they were small and cramped. The nanodrills finished their work, for the force fields against the exits on both alleys dissipated, and the Mani'k flowed through the doorways with less sound than the nanodrills themselves. That was quite an achievement. The nanodrills were designed to create absolutely no sound waves while drilling. And the Mani'k were quieter. Stepping onto the gritty surface of the wreck, Yorashknir quickly formed the Mani'k into search parties of five and set off with his own party for the command deck. If there was someone still on the ship, they would be there.
    Yorashknir sliced through the heavy command deck doors with his postmorteyim, letting the cut slices fall to the floor. The room was awash in dark shadows and sparking control panels. There could be someone here, but the lights were off. They'd have to look by hand. Yorashknir signaled to his Mani'k, and they branched of, fanning through the room. Yorashknir himself went to what would have been the captain's control panel. He reached out a hand, but swiftly took it back as the controls sparked and fizzed. It would be impossible to access the data logs on this craft. They'd have to get the full story from any survivors.
    Something moved in the shadows past the control panel. Yorashknir inched forward, holding up a hand to a Mani'k who was coming closer. He didn't want to scare away whoever was there. Especially if it was a potential prisoner. A thick stream of wires blocked his path and, looking up, Yorashknir saw a gaping hole in the paneled ceiling. He gave the wires a wide berth. The strong electrical currents that ran through the ceilings of command decks could fry a Vasari on touch. He made his way to the dark corner of the command deck, and peered into the darkness, his hand clutched tightly around his postmorteyim. He could see nothing. He bent down, trying to make out the shape of a body. A pair of green eyes lit up not an inch from his face. Startled, Yorashknir fell back and landed on the wires. He didn't even have the time to open his mouth in surprise as thousands of volts of electricity shot its way through his body.

    Mani'k Kilodim cursed softly as Yorashknir's body flew back against the wall with a sickening crunch, slowly sinking to the ground. The wires along the ground thrashed like hissing snakes and sparked menacingly. Several Mani'k back stepped quickly to avoid a flailing line. Kilodim didn't even bother checking on Yorashknir. He was certainly dead, and that left him in charge. In theory. For in every position in the Mani'k's closed ranks there were several "possibles" whenever a position cleared. As Yorashknir's second Kilodim was technically now the leader of this strike team, but he saw several Mani'k already stepping towards him, raising their postmorteyim. There was only one way to settle this for the Mani'k. Whoever was left alive would get the spot. Kilodim didn't spare time for thought, he spun quickly towards his nearest rival and lunged with his spear. The rival, Ixnasius, parried the blow and snorted through his vocal strings, the equivalent of a sneer. He knocked Kilodim's spear away from his face and struck at Kilodim. Kilodim hissed as he sliced off part of his arm. Appendage hanging limply by his side, Kilodim swiftly switched hands and stopped Ixnasius's spear from disconnecting his head from the rest of his body, and pushed, sending Ixnasius stumbling back. But Kilodim had no time to rest, for another Mani'k had come up behind Kilodim and he had to dive to avoid a spear in his back. Quickly scanning the room, Kilodim saw the other search parties filing quietly into the room before turning to face his two assailants. Ixnasius quickly severed the other Mani'k's arm and with a quick thrust stabbed the other Vasari in the chest. Ixnasius sliced upwards, creating two halves of the Vasari that stood there vainly for a few moments before peeling. One left. As a Mani'k he did not feel pain, but Kilodim knew the damage in his arm was severe. He would be hard pressed to conclude the mission on this pile of space junk and get his arm seen to before it would have to come off, and this fight with Ixnasius was not helping. Thinking quickly, Kilodim snatched a postmorteyim from a nearby Mani'k and hurled it at Ixnasius, following swiftly behind it. Ixnasius didn't have a chance. Dodging the flying spear, he presented a perfect target to Kilodim's own postmorteyim. Kilodim happily obliged. As Ixnasius fell to his knees, Kilodim's postmorteyim sticking from his chest, he looked up at Kilodim in what Kilodim thought was shock. Did Ixnasius really think he had what it took to beat him? Kilodim disgustedly withdrew his spear with a tug and Ixnasius keeled over. Turning, he surveyed the other Vasari. None of them moved except for the Mani'k who's postmorteyim Kilodim had taken. He retrieved his spear and joined the ranks of Mani'k quickly. None of them moved toward Kilodim, however. Kilodim nodded at them and inwardly sighed in relief. He ignored the throbbing pain in his arm and walked towards the corner of darkness that Yorashknir had been investigating. He had seen something, after all. That was why he had jumped back. Kilodim edged closer to the shadows, keeping a few feet between him and the cables. If he fell back, he was not going to die.
    Kilodim looked into the shadows, and someone looked back at him.

if the search parties were of 5, and yorashknir died, and and the two people who attacked kilodim died, and there's kilodim, that leaves... one man - excuse me, vasar i think is proper - standing around. you could say the search parties were of six, or say yorashknir took extra men with him, or something like that.

this was good, but i feel like you are getting sidetracked. maybe i'm just making this up, but i feel like you are getting away from what you orignially intended, at least from your preview.

now you really have to change it, since witchfire wrote another part of saints of a solar empire for us loyal fans

edit: i forgot to mention, you forgot to tell us whose ship it was. surely the mani'k would be able to tell from the corridors, if not from the outside

Hmmm... I love it when stories keep me guessing as to what comes next!

Keep up the good work, please!

Fujuki

and what materials are they? You can't tell what something is when its melted and twisted. Wait, let me correct mysely. You could if you were a scientist or you were a shipbuilder, but the Mani'k aren't into that kind of thing. How would they know what the burnt and twisted hull would normally be made of? Their fighters, not scientists.