Date Point: 16y2m AV
Alien Quarter, Folctha, Cimbrean, the Far Reaches
Nofl
Nofl’s lab was spacious, but inevitably finite. When it contained an alarming number of alarmed Humans, not to mention one particularly sculpted canine and a Gaoian brownie who was doing his best not to loom at everyone… well, there were times when Nofl was glad of his species’ diminutive stature.
There were also, rarely, times when he wished he was a little more conformant with the Corti dispassionate ideal.
“Oh dear, dear, dear…”
Chief Arés was the second-smallest Human present, after Nofl’s patient Mister Chadesakan. He frowned over Nofl’s shoulder at the volumetric display and tried to make sense of it.
“I’m no biologist, but I know that isn’t natural…”
Frankly, an uneducated Ten’Gewek child would have discerned that much. There was something disconcertingly evil about the dark, asymmetrical lattice of nanotechnology that had enfolded every last one of Leemu’s living cells. It was a technological miracle of course, and had substantially improved every aspect of Leemu’s physical and mental faculties beyond the norm for a Gaoian of his size… but it looked like some kind of demonic spider had webbed up his whole body on the tiniest scale.
“It’s OmoAru technology,” Nofl explained. “Or so I assumed. Oh, deary me… Either I was wrong and the Hierarchy gave it to the OmoAru, or they stole it from them. Either way, mister, ah… Leemu’s tissues are absolutely riddled with it.”
“And Mister Chadesakan?”
“Human biology strikes again!” Nofl chirped. “I’m pleased to say that his immune system is putting up an incredible fight! I’m… not one hundred percent convinced that he will fight it off, but something seems to be wrong with my predictive models because they all say that he should have been completely overtaken weeks ago, so…”
“How bad is it?” Arés asked.
“You were right to place the Human and Gaoian in stasis. As for Bozo and Officer Narl, they will need to remain under strict quarantine for the moment. If there’s any of the Arutech in their system, it’s below my instruments’ ability to measure.”
That apparently was not enough of a specific answer as far as Arés was concerned, as he repeated himself with added emphasis. “How. Bad. Is. It?”
“…A repair of this scale may not be possible. Leemu might well need to be surgically disassembled at the cellular level, which is…” Nofl paused and sucked air through his teeth.
“Is that even possible?” the largest man in the room asked. Colonel Powell was lurking in the back and though his expression was stony, Nofl knew enough about him to suspect that the big man was nearly frantic with worry for his dog.
“…No. Not yet, anyway. Hopefully I’m wrong and a less… aggressive treatment will present itself. I am many things, but a Level Twelve surgeon is not one of them.”
“A Level Twelve could do it?”
“They’d try. And probably fail.” Nofl bobbled his head gently. “Cellular-scale medical techniques are an important part of a… project you’re aware of.” he refrained from mentioning the Ark out loud, on the basis that neither Preed nor Gorku were aware of it.
“So the technology exists.”
“But it’s never been used on a fully grown adult Deathworlder before. Fiddling with an experimental cell cluster is one thing. Stripping sophisticated nanotechnology out of a living adult…” Nofl cleared his throat. “Of course, the other issue is that Leemu cannot possibly be considered competent to render consent.”
Powell grunted and his forearm squirmed as he tightened his fist for a moment. “…Fookin’ hellfire…”
The enormous Gaoian spoke, then. Tried. “Then…Fix. Leemu…would want…not a slave.”
“Oh, honey, I really should help you with that shouldn’t I?” Nofl clucked. He swung a scanner over on its arm and pointed it at Gorku’s cranium. “Dear, dear, dear… Not enough Meeshi when you were a cub, eh?”
Gorku shrugged and kept understandably silent.
“I’m afraid it’s not that simple,” Arés told him solemnly. “Unless you have power of attorney, you can’t make that decision for him.”
“Their courts will need to weigh in, or I believe the Governor-General will need to declare a state of emergency.”
Gorku’s ears swivelled, then he sighed miserably, scratched at the spot on his head where his implants had been removed, and managed to dig up one syllable: “…‘kay…”
“Ohhh…” Nofl made a sympathetic noise. “I’ll attend to your problem as soon as we’re done, alright? We’ll work out the details later.”
“And Mister Chadesakan?” Arés asked.
“Treating him should be as simple as amputating his arm. I hope. In any case, this entire situation requires containment and a full Grade Twelve medical intervention. I have taken the liberty of dispatching a message. Given exactly what we’re looking at here…”
“And my dog?” Powell asked.
“He and Officer Narl will require quarantine so I can monitor them. The good news is, I don’t think either of them are infected. Again, I will defer to my medical colleagues when they arrive.”
“When?” Powell asked. “And more to the point, how much is it gonna bloody cost us?”
“Powell, dear. This is far bigger than money or politics. We will settle all accounts after the danger is past, and need I remind you, we are in no position to foster enmity.”
“In my experience, the Directorate’s idea of a fee can be a little unintuitive anyway,” Arés soothed.
“Then I will be blunt. We’d like to send an expedition to Akyawentuo. Nothing extreme,” Nofl cautioned, “We would simply like to examine them. You will have full authority, of course.”
Powell and Arés shared a lengthy eye contact with each other that seemed to encompass a full conversation. Eventually Powell shrugged, shook his head and subsided. “…You’ll need to talk with Etsicitty,” he said. “He’s the special envoy to them an’ all that.”
“Oh lovely!” Nofl chirped. “My favourite customer! One of them, anyway… Where is he?”
“This time o’ the day?” Powell thought about it. “…The Dog House, I expect.”
“…Oh. Well. I shall have to mount an expedition, then! Before my colleagues arrive.”
“And when will that be?” Powell asked, repeating his earlier question.
“For all I know, the Empirical Razor might already be in orbit,” Nofl said. “It depends on just how much my word is worth with the Directorate and the military Colleges… which is quite a lot right now, actually.”
Arés scratched at his chin with a thumb for a second as he contemplated the situation, then sighed and looked at Powell. “We should pass this on to our respective superiors, I guess.”
“Aye. The whole of 5-EYES need to know this one… and we’ll need to tell the Great Father as well.”
“That’ll be easy. He’s visiting Folctha today, unofficially.”
“Unofficially?”
“Every week, if he can. Usually he just jumps over when the array isn’t busy and does…whatever a Great Father does when nobody’s looking. Today though he’s flying with a special somebody. We’re expecting him later this morning.”
“Damn,” Powell rumbled. “I’d hate to ruin his day off, but…”
“Needs must.”
“Aye.”
“Well then, gentlemen. I believe we know what we’re all doing!” Nofl clapped his hands and shooed them out the door. “Go on! Don’t worry, Colonel, I’ll take special care of Bozo.”
“You do that…” Powell said, darkly. He shot one last worried glance at the quarantine lab and then, with a sigh and a shake of his head, he squeezed through the door and was gone. Gabe Arés followed a moment later.
Nofl sighed, dusted off his hands, and took a deep breath before checking on his patients. Narl had finally persuaded Bozo to calm down, and requested only a bowl of water for the dog and a bottle of water for himself. Nofl instructed his butler drone to provide both, then checked on Preed Chadesakan. The old man was lying on his cot in quarantine, looking up at the ceiling with a hollow expression.
“Can I get you anything, Mister Chadesakan?” Nofl asked. The elderly Human half-turned his head, gave Nofl a bleary-eyed empty look, then shook his head and subsided. Nofl ordered some water for him as well and made a note to call for somebody better-qualified to help him.
That just left Gorku.
“Well, dear!” he said cheerily, and approached the sullen Gaoian. “It’s your turn at last! Let’s see if we can’t figure out a way to straighten out your language centers without cybernetics, hmm?”
Gorku sighed and heaved himself up onto four paws. “…Long time?”
“Who knows? We’re only reinventing a field of medicine from first principles!” Nofl fluttered a hand vaguely at the diagnostic equipment. “Chop chop! The sooner we scan your brain, the sooner we figure out what it needs.”
Gorku duck-nodded and flopped up onto the medical bed. It was built for HEAT members, and took his merely large frame easily and without complaint. Nofl swept into his seat and rolled over to the appropriate workstation, where he powered up the complex, powerful and subtle scanners he’d ordered, installed and sometimes built himself.
That was the nice thing about living in Folctha. He never ran out of interesting specimens.
“Yes…this was definitely caused by malnutrition. But how do we fix it…?” he muttered to himself.
Gorku gave him a Look.
“Don’t mind me, darling, just talking to myself! I’m sure your conversation will be gripping when we’re done, though!”
Gorku snorted, crossed his paws under his chin and put his head down while Nofl delved a little deeper into the subtleties of his patient’s trouble.
Life simply didn’t get any better. And until the ship arrived… well. What better way to preoccupy himself?
None that he could think of.
Date Point: 16y2m AV
The Life-Mate’s private yacht, Cimbrean system, The Far Reaches
Daar, Great Father of the Gao
“Big Burly Buckin’ Badass Beastie!”
Naydra chittered again and swatted his ear affectionately. “You and your alliteration, Bumpkin…also, no you great oaf! The Summer Scent, maybe?”
“It’s th’ most fastest ‘lil ship I ever owned! It’s the prototype ‘fer the Drunker! Don’t that seem kinda…uh…”
“Feminine?”
“…I was thinkin’ sedate,” Daar said, gleefully deploying a fancier word for a change. Banter with Naydi was the most funnest!
And for once, they had real privacy. He’d decided to commandeer the prototype and have it converted into a luxury yacht for her. Well…he’d tried to buy it first, but Clan politics got in the way and it turned into a gift from Clan Ironpaw to the Females. But still, it was nice. After all, she travelled on official business just as much as him and while Daar tended to just grab whatever dropship or warship was available, he felt like his love needed something fancier.
The problem was, she kept turning down his names for it. She had an almost Human-like picky streak about ship names.
“I don’t plan on cruising the spacelanes with it, Daar. Besides, it’s all…a bit much, I think. Doesn’t a gift like this demand a good name?”
“I mean…you ain’t wrong. I named my precision hand tools!”
“You named them Pokey and Son of Pokey, Bumpkin.”
“Also Stabby Two: Electric Boogaloo!”
“…Why?”
“We wuz watchin’ bad movies one night! They can’t seem ‘ta get enough o’ them’ awful balls-damned period Clan epics…but hey! Their old sci-fi stuff is neat!”
“You’re very weird, my love.”
Daar chittered happily and stretched out on the long, wide couch she’d had installed. Keeda’s nuts, it was good ‘ta take a load off sometimes. One day out of every eight didn’t feel like enough, but he made the most of that day whenever it came around.
“I could get used ‘ta this,” he rumbled, and pulled Naydi into himself for the most tightest snuggle she’d allow for the moment; the cub was coming along big and fast. “Jus’ you an’ me!”
She combed her claws through his whiskers. “No advisors ringing day and night…”
“Or interruptin’ at the worstest times…”
“No— oof!”
Daar chittered fondly and turned his attention to her belly. “Fightin’ to get out?”
Naydra stifled a hiccup. “Ugh. He’s even fiercer than the last…” she paused and blinked as a tiny paw pressed against her skin from the inside. “…the last one.”
Daar laid a paw on the wriggling cub and felt it settle down. Fuck, but bein’ away from them was gonna be hard.
Naydra was due. She’d already pushed a little past when she shoulda travelled to the Grand Commune, actually. She was a healthy mother herself, she’d had plenty of cubs before… there shouldn’t be any problems.
But if there were, she wanted the best obstetrics going, and there was nowhere better than the hospital at the Grand Commune. Shit, they even treated Human mothers when things went real wrong, and when Human births went wrong they went very wrong.
…She’d be all but unvisitable, though. That part of tradition really sucked nuts. It was necessary, and Daar weren’t a ‘Back to shy away from necessary, but…
“I’m gonna miss ‘ya terribly.”
“I will message you every day! And you will have affairs of state to distract you, at least.”
“Eh…less o’ that as we go on. I’m tryin’ ‘ta get the Clans back ‘ta thinkin’ independently again.”
She duck-nodded and moved her claws up to scritch lightly behind his ears. “That would be nice. A return to how things were, a little bit.”
Daar shook his head. “I don’t think we can ever really go back, t’be honest. Still gotta wean ‘em off, though. Ain’t gonna happen in a day, but it needs to happen sooner or later. One day there won’t be a Great Father again, an’ they need to be ready for it.”
“The sooner the better.”
“Balls, yeah. Ooh, right there–!” Naydi always knew the bestest way to ear-scritch! He panted happily, and relaxed.
The yacht’s pilot was under pretty strict orders to interrupt them for only one thing: the end of their journey. The Humans took security at Cimbrean very seriously, and even the Great Father had to wait some. He had diplomatic immunity but that didn’t make him immune to the time it took to arrange his own safety.
He didn’t mind. This was one of his “unofficial” visits anyway, where they’d discreetly clear him through and let him get on with his day. A small abuse of privilege, maybe, but he needed to keep some part of a normal life or he might just go insane. For Daar, “normal” meant “visit his friends” now and then. And buy corn dogs. And tacos! And ice cream for Naydi. And stuff.
And get a good training session in! It’d been way too long since he’d lifted balls-out…
Still… he kinda wished he could pass on all that if it meant more Naydi.
“…You should see the other guy?” he suggested, returning to the subject of naming the yacht.
“Humans are rubbing off on you,” Naydra sniffed. She didn’t need prompting to follow his lurch in topic. “Besides, again: too boisterous. This is a yacht and I’ll be using it for diplomacy, it needs to sound respectable!”
“Aww–!”
“I know you can do respectable,” she half-encouraged, half-chided him.
“Sure,” he crowed. “Ain’t nobody disrespects me!”
Naydi chittered at his gratuitous play-bragging, and gently pinched his ear with her claws. “That’s not what I meant!”
Daar chittered again, and finally took the thought seriously. Once upon a time, he’d thought Coombes, Walsh and Hoeff were crazy for takin’ so long over naming the ship, but then he’d kinda fallen in love with it partly because of the name. So much that he’d insisted on resurrecting the Drunk on Turkey name in its successor. They’d been right: names mattered.
“…What about the Hopeful Star?” he asked. That was the focus of an old story he’d found among the ancient texts gifted to him by Clan Highmountain after his coronation. The Highmountains hadn’t seen a lot of value in the kind of story the ancient Gao had told their cubs—they’d been more interested in whether or not the star in question might be a real supernova—but Daar had obsessed over it, shared it with Gyotin and traded long, thoughtful letters with him over its deeper message.
He’d also discussed it with Naydra, whose ears pricked up as she thought about it.
“…That’s sly of you, Bumpkin. Not many people know what it actually means.”
“An’ it sounds like the same kinda name the One-Fangs use,” Daar added. “So it’ll just be our little detail.”
“Why do they name their ships that way?”
Daar shrugged. “Iunno. Clans got their traditions. Sometimes even they don’t really know where it comes from…”
The interruption finally came. It was simple enough, just a polite chime and a light in the ceiling telling them to buckle in to their seats for landing. They rubbed noses and Daar made sure Naydra was properly secure in her seat before buckling himself in.
The descent was perfectly smooth and soft, and the landing was as gentle as a Mother laying her first cub in its cradle. When the hatch popped, the smell of Tiritya Island flooded in.
Sea air, cubs and females. Flowers, herbs and honey from the kitchen garden, the ubiquitous petrochemical zest shared by landing pads all over the galaxy, and a thousand other things besides. It was a nasal symphony unique to this one small corner of an alien planet that had become the future of the Gaoian species.
Naydra descended the steps first, and Daar followed her reluctantly. He hated this part. It had sucked balls with their first cub, and it never got better. He wouldn’t smell her again until the cub had been weaned, which could be months away.
He could still steal another great big hug, though. And maybe a nip on her ear.
“I love you, Naydi. More’n anythin’.”
“I know.” She sniffed his nose. “I’ll miss you too.”
Then they were in public and there was no more time for affection.
Whoever had planned the island’s layout had put the Guard-Sisters’ barracks right where visitors arriving by shuttle could see them training, in a clear statement: ‘This is what you’ll have to deal with if you start trouble.’
The Guard-Sisters had always been a large and fierce corps, but now they were doubly so and they’d learned their lesson about weaponry. Fusion spears and blades might be traditional and ceremonial and perfectly deadly in skilled hands—Balls, Yulna was only alive thanks to Myun’s prowess with a blade—but guns were better.
Once upon a time the Guard-Sisters down in that field would have been stabbing, slashing and parrying. Now, they were running assault courses for best time, spurred by the valkyrie calls of the Guard-Mothers. Daar watched one young Sister with a professional eye as she launched herself four-pawed into the gauntlet and flowed through it like a clawed silk ribbon. She’d mastered the art of smoothly transitioning her gait and readying her weapon in one motion, freeing herself to maneuver with maximum efficiency and without hindering her ability to shoot.
Balls, there were veteran units in the Grand Army that didn’t know how to fight like that.
He was interrupted by a familiar and very welcome voice.
“I hope you approve, My Father…”
Daar turned, briefly forgetting the wrench of being parted from Naydi as he realized he’d just been reunited with another precious soul.
“Myun!”
His most favoritest daughter chittered happily as he abandoned any pretense at decorum and tackle-snoogled her half to death.
“Mrf! My Father! Yes, hello! I missed you too.”
There were some stifled chitters from a few of the other females in attendance, and a completely unstifled one from Naydra.
“Hello, Myun,” she said warmly.
Myun’s rise through the ranks had been volcanic. Saving the Mother-Supreme’s life at the height of the biodrone crisis had earned her prestige and notoriety… and the sad fact that all of the senior guard-mothers had been biodrones themselves or else slaughtered in the opening seconds of the war had left her plenty of room to be promoted into.
She’d earned a terrible injury in the process, too. But now! Look at her! The wound had been properly tended to, but she’d kept the scar up her right cheek as a mark of pride and it made her even more beautiful than she’d been before. The hardship she’d endured had given weight to her personality, and now she was perhaps the most formidable female Daar had ever met, besides Naydi of course.
Daar pulled both of them to himself for one last hug. “You take care of my Naydi, ‘kay? I hear she’s a pawful!”
“She’s in safe paws, I promise,” Myun replied.
“I know,” Daar pressed his nose to hers affectionately. “I always knew.”
“What do you think of the assault course?”
“…Not-so-secretly, I kinda wanna give it a go.”
Daar glanced back down at the training area. The young guard he’d been watching was panting happily at the end of the course while her sisters celebrated around her, and she looked fiercely eager to throw herself back into it for a second go. He couldn’t see her time from where he was standing, but the Guard-Mother looked satisfied with it.
“I’m sure you’d earn a dozen mating contracts if you did,” Naydi said with a sly look.
“Ha! Well…”
Myun chittered. “I’d like to respectfully ask the Great Father to please not interrupt my training schedule,” she said.
“I’d be a fool to step in ‘yer way, Myun. Go. I think there’s Sisters down there who ain’t tired!”
“Let’s get the mother-to-be inside, first,” Myun said. She gently stepped aside and ushered Naydra toward the waiting nurse-sisters, who flocked around and generally started acting like Naydra was made of spun sugar and would break if touched too firmly. Daar saw Myun roll her eyes, and had to fight down a chitter of his own.
It was a short walk up the slope to the commune’s front doors. Like the ones at Wi Kao, these were huge wooden things with decorative metal, though where the Wi Kao commune’s doors had been banded with black iron, these were polished to the point where they shone even in the dim light of an overcast day. They weren’t thrown open, however: Naydra had requested no great ceremony, so she went through the smaller wicket gate just like everyone else. The guard-sisters on either side came to attention as they approached, but other than that there was no fanfare or fuss.
Daar only noticed that he was unconsciously following after her into the Commune when Myun cleared her throat. Her tone of voice changed, from familiar and warm to professional.
“My Father…”
Daar paused, and blinked. The guards hadn’t challenged him, because they couldn’t; the Females had submitted to him, after all. He, alone among all males of the Gao, was permitted unfettered access to their world.
Which was why he had to restrain himself.
He stopped, then took a step back. “…Thank you, my daughter.”
Myun duck-nodded sympathetically, and the moment passed. With a heavy sigh, Daar watched until Naydra was out of sight, then watched a little longer as Myun gave him an apologetic parting duck-nod and followed Naydi into the commune. Finally, once the door was closed, he turned and padded away down the path back toward the landing pad. There was a shuttle waiting there to take him to Folctha, and from there he could enjoy a few hours of just being Daar.
Leaving Naydi always left him feeling frustrated. Normally he’d solve that by wooing females and testing out his cheesiest come-on lines…maybe try his luck (and get shot down again!) with that cute little number over at Ninja Taco in Folctha…
…But that kind of thing always felt wrong when Naydi was on his mind.
Well, not all was lost; he had more than one way to burn off frustration. He shook his pelt out, whipped out his communicator, and sent a message to Warhorse. They were so close in strength these days, maybe today would be the day he finally settled the question…
Daar chittered to himself ruefully. He really were the most predictablest tail ever, sometimes. But that was what made him, him. Gyotin and Naydi were right. Balls, everyone was. Daar couldn’t be anything but himself if he was going bear the burden of being the Great Father.
It was high time for the Great Father to remember who Daar was.
Date Point: 16y2m AV
Hierarchy/Cabal Joint Communications session #1535
++0007++: <Aghast> You infected them with unrestricted nanites?!
++Cynosure++: No, of course not. The technology’s capacity to replicate is tightly constrained. It literally can’t grow in the absence of compatible tissue.
++0011++: Is this how you infiltrated Sol?
++Cynosure++: <Pleased> Indeed! I infected the crew of ‘My Other Spaceship Is The Millennium Falcon’ at Origin, and had the pilot transfer to their new mining ship when the opportunity arose. The droud function came in very useful indeed when I needed to terminate the biodrone. It sat quite peacefully and watched the stars until it suffocated.
++Proximal++: <Uneasy> I have to admit, constrained or not… I don’t much like the idea of this technology. We Declined the OmoAru specifically because of it, after all.
++0007++: I’m more concerned by your sudden reverse-course on this, Cynosure. You fomented a conspiracy within the Hierarchy, established the Cabal, somehow found a way to avoid being incorporated into a 0001 instance and all along your objective allegedly was to ensure long-term cooperation with the Humans.
++Cynosure++: …How much Human literature have you read, 0007?
++0007++: About twelve gigabytes. Why?
++Cynosure++: So you are well aware that they’ve considered the dangers of self-replicating technology.
++0007++: Yes?
++Cynosure++: And yet they persist in developing it.
++0007++: Perhaps that makes them better qualified to develop it.
++Cynosure++: <Anger> That is snivelling apologetics! And in their case, it’s hubris!
++0011++: You’ve held them to be reasonable before.
++Cynosure++: And I have adjusted my opinion in light of new evidence!
++0004++: Calm yourself, please.
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: USER Proximal HAS QUIT
++Cynosure++: <strained contrition> …Apologies. It is… we all know how difficult it is to admit to having been grievously wrong. I thought the Humans were one thing, and they have now proven themselves to be quite another.
++0007++: Proximal had a good point, however. Arutech is a self-replicating machine. Even though its ability to replicate may be tightly limited, any replicant can mutate given sufficient time.
++0004++: It does seem inappropriate to use the very thing we are sworn to destroy.
++Cynosure++: I have my own misgivings. But the alternative was to not penetrate the Human defences at all. Their security measures are too effective and reliable in their simplicity.
++0007++: <resigned> So long as it works, then…
++Cynosure++: It already has. We have a force of Injunctors on Earth, one compliant biodrone recovered from an internment facility, and two infiltrators en route to Cimbrean. They should be arriving about now, in fact.
++0004++: That is considerably more progress than we’ve made since we lost that Abductor in Egypt six years ago…
++Cynosure++: It’s a foothold. There is a lot of hard work ahead of us before it becomes something more substantive.
++0004++: And you’re committed to this? You’ve given up on Humans as a viable partner species?
++Cynosure++: Reluctantly, but yes. They’re too unpredictable, and their relationship with the Gao has made both species stronger. And they’re corrupting the Corti, now. I say, break the linchpin and we can watch that relationship fall apart.
++0007++: What is the first step on Earth? Dissemination of the Arutech?
++Cynosure++: Where necessary, yes. Cybernetic biodrones are more convenient—control over them is immediate and complete, as opposed to the prolonged period of indoctrination an Arutech drone must undergo—and they will continue to form the backbone of the plan. Arutech drones will serve for infiltration and intelligence gathering.
++0004++: All of which must ultimately culminate in disabling the planetary wormhole suppressor.
++Cynosure++: Let us be precise about the required objective. We must remove Humanity as a threat. That doesn’t mandate any particular approach, and…I confess, I still believe there is something worth preserving, or at least studying in them. But that is secondary to preserving the Substrate.
++0011++: On that note, I’m pleased to report some success. The Guvnurag remnant have been induced to expand to two new temperate worlds. And, importantly, they plan to do this without notifying the Dominion. Their expansion will safeguard a larger Substrate.
++0004++: That is good news, but four planets scarcely compare to the entire Dominion.
++0011++: It’s an anchor. At the very least, it prevents the complete loss of Substrate.
++Cynosure++: True, and I congratulate you on your success. Now, let us focus on ensuring that your anchor never becomes necessary.
++0004++: Where do you propose we begin?
++Cynosure++: Let us wait and see how well the infiltration of Cimbrean goes. It will be the first real test of the Arutech drones. After that… well, then we can plan.
Emote channel: 137 instances of <agreement>
Consensus reached.
++0004++: Very well, then. Let us watch Cimbrean closely…
SYSTEM NOTIFICATION: SESSION SUSPENDED
STAND BY