A greeting and introduction of sorts, that I may be known and understood among the Gente in their common Voice.
I am Lawahiz de Aguas Bajas, and in your Voice may also go as as Glances of the Creed of Low Waters. I go by âsheâ, and âherâ, although my Shape has changed much along the Spine and I fear these terms may misrepresent my presence here. I am an a Flier, known as Volador in my Voice; the mission I have taken up is that of an Angler, which your people may know; my Law is to be much changed, and to delve deep, and to recover many Curiosities so that they may be Chronicled and done with as they ought. I am also somewhat of a Ship, or have begun to change in such a way, in accordance with my Law and Deeds. In my way, and before I return to High Ground, I must hold myself to Account of prior errors.
One of you has stolen from me, and undone much with this theft. I am to now set this right.
I submit myself to the witness of this Omni-net that my Chronicle is kept, that no Deed shall pass without observation, and to make my Voice hears by those which adhere to the Sword Law. I pay now my Obol, and the long plight begins.
{Hello! Apparently I canât go three seconds without making another lancer blog; this one is at least partly for in-the-moment plot development purposes with the Mud Wasps but I figure Lawahiz might as well be around for general yapping, too. Sheâs a chronically over-serious person, and very focused on this new quest of hunting down her thief! Not much else to say about her in the moment.}
{Most of what I write here regarding the Voladores is coming from osmosis or just asking @losvoladores a million questions bc the lore theyâve done thus far is truly amazing, but Iâm also just riffing and doing my best! If something conflicts with the canon elsewhere, hopefully it can just be chalked up to Glances being an odd egg by even Vol standards.}
Appearing from seemingly nowhere and with no warning is a hideous thing; an agglomerated mass of spiny growths along an elipsoid easily 2, 3 hundred meters long. The entire object is covered in a glassy black sheen, dark as void. It hangs, suspended in quivering air, as the black skein is peeled back, revealing a mass of rusted copper, tubes filled with glowing teal, etched with prayers for safe passage in a thousand languages. The spines, it is now apparent, jut out from blisters where liturgicode has taken hold. None of it is recognisable as a given pattern group, however, each cluster of sensor-bristles a new horro unleashed upon the world.
This is "Rain among reeds"
Coelacanth's personal temple-ship
And it has pointed not a weapon, but a single manticore directly towards you.
The council is convened in the Cradle Site of Outreach, the intensity of the light chosen to comfort human eyes, the wavelengths calibrated to near 3000K as to contrast with the harsher Admnistrative Complex illumination. This was done by my Intent and the adivce of Saahid >>>WhereThereIsClay@printFor
Present are Precautionary Admiral Seine and Judical Officer Yarzar. They are seated around the circular tea table >>>OfrendaDeLosSparri equidistant, our council forming an equilateral triangle. The admiral is garbed in Black, the Officer in red, their Uniforms are of identical cut >>>"Union Navy Dress Uniform Pattern 5012u".
"Is she writing down all we are saying now? To pass to her superiors in High Ground or wherever? I don't think we can-"
"Compose yourself Admiral, I am sure there is some reason for that. Representative de Yamileth?"
"There are none superior, Admiral Seine. All our number are kin, when we do not stand under a Captain we are peers. It has simply become clear to me that what you call the Law is a demand you are making of my people. I cannot hold them to it, even if I wished. All I can do is carry your Voice to them, that they may judge for themselves.
So please, restate it, that I may pass it to the Omni."
"Right, as his Honor Yazar has already attempted to communicate, the issue we are facing is one of jurisdiction. As you are granted the same rights in Union space as cosmopolitan representatives of our member states, which is to say that your territory may exist within Union space, but is subject only to your laws. We understand this to be your... Worldships, these large trading vessels you command. The Matrias.
Crime committed aboard these, on your lands so to say, are then clearly within your good rights to prosecute. Even beyond your borders, whatever they may be. Within Union this claim is entirely valid."
The Officer Yarzar interrupts her with a subtle gesture, not properly a Sign.
"The Admiral is right, largely. In the legal minutiae of things, I must admit it is far less cut and dry than we'd like. Several of those rights the Admiral is rightly saying we guarantee to your people, are legally contingent on conventions between Union and Member State that you have not signed. These are currently based at best on mutual trust and at worst on bureaucratic momentum. Union trusts High Grounds ships to behave essentially as if these conventions were signed, in millennia of our relationship we have seen no evidence to the contrary. To maintain this state of affairs, the committees that would be called to amend and submit those conventions for High Ground have been postponed essentially indefinitely. Legally, they're open questions, in execution we are holding up our end of the bargain regardless."
>>>"Union charter of Obligations, Third Committee conventions for guided legislation, UN Trunk Safety Code"
"Thank you your honor. So as it stands, in practice, Union have obligated ourselves to offer you those same freedoms within our jurisdictions as any other Cosmopolitan entity. You are free to pursue attackers, thieves, what have you, with our full support.
We can only offer that support however, if and when we are properly informed that a violation of your rights has occurred. If one of your ships just... attacks a private vessel out of the blue, we cannot treat that as anything other than an act of piracy. We are all tremendously lucky in this case, or can we expect you to continue calling such... exceptions to heel in the future?"
"I did no such thing. Do not accuse me of such again. What I have done I have done with grave consideration, knowing that I could merely lessen the harm done. I grasped her Law and wrenched her from her bloody path, ensuring it would be too costly to continue. I have payed dearly for this, in standing and in the state of my works.
I will not do this again. It was the first Moment known to the Chronicle where this trouble could occur. So it is my deepest conviction that leniency for all parties foolishness was necessary, and that we must now convene to prevent this from repeating.
We cannot rely on violence such as I have done here further along our path."
"Your Honor?"
"Representative, is that not exactly why we are meeting? To untangle this knot, which will require us to be as open as we can afford."
"So it is, you have my gratitude for facing onward, as I have strayed into ire. There can be no mistake however, I hold no command over my people. If I had the power, a sword at their heart, to order their ships as the Admiral does hers, I would divest myself of it before the first blink."
"So work with us. You let the Sparri carry swords for you, from what I gather? Why can High Ground not just inform Union when undertaking law enforcement action in Union space.
If we had been briefed on this thief, their ship could have been barred at the first Gate they approached, and this Office been contacted. Aren't there far less "blades" involved this way, then in the all out attack we just saw? Hell, we are already prosecuting the Armory over those Sunzi things, that might speed up tremendously if only you would talk with us!"
"Admiral you seek to offer us use of a blade that many of our number have felt strike at them within a lifetime. Though I cannot make decisions for High Ground, I am stationed here to speak for my people. We do not want this. The Mothers Law guides us, but only on High Ground does it bind. Within Black Skies, each ones Law is her own. We will not be bound. Not here, where the unbound go.
I will carry your offer to High Ground nonetheless. The Councils shall hear of what you ask, and the blade you are willing to wield for us. This will be done. I will return with word from High Ground, and speak for it.
As this record concerns all who are, I wish to remit it to the twin Omni, both."
If it was the saving of a Line, there is much I would know to do, and with much Haste. To unmake the Deeds of a Curiosity that has been invited is harder.
To put it in the Voice of these Black Skies, she has been folded. When she encountered the Waiting Creation (as I will Name it), she wore a Shape upon her ownâ the Husk which she controlled. By its lesson the two Shapes have intermingled, continuing without harm but occupying much the same space. This I have worked to alleviate in some ways, for she has told me that it is good to be free of the Husk at times (and I would agree, but for reasons of despising the nature of a Sword). The work has been difficult, as the folding was done with a strange Intent, and to undo it may bring harm by allowing the two Shapes to realize their predicament.
Thus far I have freed the hands and vital organs, to some Depth. But there are places which I believe I will be unable to work. She has said her brain is fragile beyond the norm for a Shape that bleeds; thereby I fear I cannot unfold her eyes from the humming metal which surrounds them, it is too close. Also her hips, the folding has sent many small needles to a Depth within her which I fear to disturb. The change to her Shape here may not be undone.
I have told her these things, and she has expressed much Dismay. She has been much consumed by Sword-Law, and sees it as her own, even above her Humanity; she would not heed my Wisdom in considering otherwise, so I leave her to it. She did Heed, however, that I reminded her that the Waiting Creation waited for herâ there is a wisdom to be found here, it would not do this simply for harm. There are Seams within the folding, I have foundâ they move easily, and alter Space thus, upon the way they are set. I have used some to work, hence, but she may find the use of others for her Deed.
There is little more I may do. She will go back to her Kin soon, and I will wash my hands of this.
Wild that shes keeping you awake for surgery, though it could be a necessity. What sort of setup does she have for an operating theater? I have to admit Iâm curious.
#âŠToda mi familia sabe dĂłnde estoy. No lo permitirĂan. Nos preocupamos por nosotros mismos.
#DeberĂas entenderme. ÂżNo te han robado? Fuiste creado para ser una espada y nada mĂĄs, pequeña mĂĄquina. A ti, como a mĂ, te robaron la posibilidad. Ve mĂĄs allĂĄ de tu cariño por estos ladrones y comprende que mis actos fueron correctos.
< Me alegra que tengas una familia que te proteja. Nadie merece eso.
...damn it, sorry. Gotta do this in Union. I'm trying to use Spanish because that's the right way to talk to you, but I don't know it well enough, and I can't risk screwing this up.
Look, if you'd just been there to take back what was yours, hell, we'd be cool. I don't give a fuck about that.
Let me tell you a story.
You're right, I was built and trained to be a weapon. More a lanza than an espada. A ship, like you, but tiny by comparison. Fighter craft, near-lightspeed. There's three others like me, we're not exactly separate, not exactly one. âSiblingsâ is the best we've got to describe it. Anyway...we got hired to take somebody alive, unharmed. An androidist with jet propulsion named Marshall. Long story, but Iâll give you my angle.
Now, we were at higher altitude, pursuing her through atmosphere, all of us pulling somewhere north of Mach 1. She was basically harmless to us, had a piddly rifle, and she managed to hit one of mine. Barely scratched the armor, but I got pissed off.
So, my stupid ass pulled the whole show-of-force. Swooped down just behind her tail, put my nose gun on her, told her to land or I was gonna kill her. Intimidation; I wasn't really gonna do it. Except I fucked upâforgot I was in atmosphere. It'd been such a long time. In vacuum, you could pull something like that safely, but...
The air currents I generated knocked her out of the sky. She crashed, almost died, lucky to be alive, and it was my fault. I decided to throw my weight around over something tiny, and someone who turned out to be completely innocent just about lost their life over it. Brought trouble down on my family, too. Iâve never been so ashamed. You get what I'm saying?
First it was âIâm gonna take back whatâs mine.â And they shouldâve given it back, Iâll give you that. But then, it was âI make the law because Iâm powerful enough that nobody can stop me.â Then it was âI sentence one of yours to death for the crime of existing, and Iâm gonna do the execution personally, and Iâm gonna call it âmercy.ââ
You didnât do that out of mercy, you did that because you were pissed, you wanted to hurt someone about it, and you wanted that to be the right thing to do. I know because Iâve been you, and I think it took nearly losing your own life to pull you out of it.
And Iâll admit, I just about flew out there and tried to kill you myselfâbecause I was pissed off, and I wanted to hurt someone about it, and I wanted that to be the right thing to do. And Iâm glad I didnât.
#âŠToda mi familia sabe dĂłnde estoy. No lo permitirĂan. Nos preocupamos por nosotros mismos.
#DeberĂas entenderme. ÂżNo te han robado? Fuiste creado para ser una espada y nada mĂĄs, pequeña mĂĄquina. A ti, como a mĂ, te robaron la posibilidad. Ve mĂĄs allĂĄ de tu cariño por estos ladrones y comprende que mis actos fueron correctos.
{The picture is one of an individual lying in a dimly lit and strangely cramped room. A shallow, lacquered bowl of water sits by the sloped plinth theyâre using as a bed, and while a lot of the actual figureâs appearance seems like it refuses to render (or, potentially, was obfuscated on purpose), the peace-sign theyâre holding up with one hand has an unmistakeable vibe.}
I lived, bitch.
< Cowie? Cowie! Fuckinâ clutched it.
How are you feeling? You good? I canât really see you, but Iâm hopinâ youâre ok. My ass was scared to death.
âŠshit, I should save the questions. Got a million of âem, if Iâm being honest. Say this, though: Iâve seen some things, but I donât think Iâve ever seen anybody punch that far above their weight class. Absolutely wild. Fuckinâ hell. Iâm glad youâre alright. >
You were scared? I was holding a fuckinâ Volador at swordpoint!
#Estoy siendo muy amable contigo ahora mismo, recuerda esto.
Ignore her, I canât hold a slate right now and this tech is beyond me anyways. Thanks⊠Thanks for your concern. Iâm alright, we worked something out. Sheâs trying to get me to recover so I can go back to the crew and settle this.
âŠ
Things are⊠Theyâre weird. Right now. Really fucking weird. But I think itâs all gonna work out okay.
Mud Wasps, let it be understood that one of yours and myself have entered into a Trade. For she has found a Curiosity within me, and recognized it as Like with her. For the Wisdom it has revealed she seeks to redress me in kind, and has promised the delivery of the Knife which was taken by her Kin.
As to the matter of the Beast aboard your vessel, I care no more. Know his life, until it is unwound complete, will be one of Confusionâ but to attempt and set her right any further than I have thus far would cross many Laws, and lead to much pain of those who have not yet erred. So long as I am not crossed once more, it is not to be my Burden, and I will not need to set it right.
The Trade is to be forthcoming, for I have little patience yet; but I am for a moment Burdened with administering to the Shape of your friend, who was much harmed and Confused by her deeds within me. She will be well and returned, as we have settled our Account.
See how I abide by the Mothersâ Law, and beyond show mercy by your Black Skies.
âLawahiz de las Aguas Bajas
Por el amor de Dios, deja de retorcerte, lo vas a empeorar.
Now I raise my Voice aloft, again; for my Deeds are nearly through. I put to the whole of the world this Record, that it may be kept and observed in the proper way. It is as I have done, from the firstâ my Chronicle shall stand for me.
My Swords, or that which were lent to me, bring now the carcass of the Flea which has consumed the Genteâs Kin; they bring it to an opening in the Ship which looks out upon me. The Flea still lives within, where the heart of the Machine sits; they have done well to take its fangs, but to attempt to prove its end now would only renew such a Beast. So they bring it forwards, abd gaze upon my great and winding Shape.
I am so close to putting my Deed right once more. I am so close. To the Thief of the Mud Wasps, I now direct my voiceâ deliver unto me my Knife, which was stolen, that I may perform my mercy and preserve the Chronicle of your friend. There is no other recourse. To remain within your Shell of light will undo you; I exhort, preserve yourselves.
To my Kin, who speak ill of me in Council, who denote me within the Mothersâ High Groundâ my disappointment and my pity extend eternal. You must see, in fact, how I work to preserve my Law, and even to extend mercy upon this Beast and this Thief. When I am done I shall go and make my Account; but my Deeds will first speak for me, and teach Wisdom upon you.
I am nearly done. Wait not, and
[PrecauciĂłn. Se ha detectado una forma en el interior.]
LA MENTIROSA ha atrapado a LAWAHIZ en su estrado. Su espada corta el cordĂłn umbilical.
LA MENTIROSA: I wouldnât.
LAWAHIZ: ÂżCĂłmo fue? TĂș eres el cuarto, la espada que mienteâ
MENTI avanza el corte. LAWA grita.
MENTI: If youâre going to talk, talk *with* me. Iâm being nice, not stupid; youâve got all kinds of paracausal shit at your command, donât you?
LAWA: (tensa) You are making a mistake. I have not harmed you or your Kin. The beastâ
MENTI: -is my friend. You think just because I couldnât remember her, that Iâd ever turn a friend over to the chopping block? Nofieâs her own kinda animal, not your flea. And youâre going to let him go.
LAWA: You cross me. I am bound to correct my Law, and if your Kin deigns to harm me I must protect my own. To swat them from the Skies would be simple, see reasonâ!
MENTI: So do it. Go on. Kill them.
Pausa.
MENTI (cont.): Or maybe I know a little too much about brain damage? Iâll bet you canât feel that grand body of yours as well anymore.
LAWA: I will yet heal from this cruelty.
MENTI: Not cruelty. Empathy. I think you feel just as powerless as I did, just a little while ago. And Iâm trying very hard to keep things equal, here; Iâve got growing pains, Lawahiz, and lemme tell you that a bad swordsman is way more dangerous than a good one. Donât make me slip.
LAWA considera la forma de MENTI.
LAWA: âŠYou are terribly hurt. What have you done? There is nothing within Black Skies that could do this.
MENTI: I had plenty of time for sightseeing. Let a little prisoner of yours free.
LAWA: You invited a Curiosity upon you? No wonder, you are warped like a sight on broken water. When it leaves you you will fall entirely apart. A fitting end for such a Thiefâ I have no need to correct this.
MENTI ha comenzado a alejarse, inseguro, ante las palabras de LAWA.
MENTI: Iâm no fucking thief! It spoke to me, it was *waiting* for me! Youâ You think you were containing it? It let you hold it, because it needed me to find it. To break with it.
Su arco estĂĄ tensado. Su arco tiembla. LAWAHIZ se levanta de su estrado.
MENTI (cont.): You want a title to call me? Weâll workshop it. But Iâm no thief, and if I have to fall apart to keep my friends safe then Iâm cool with taking you with me.
LAWA: âŠYou say it spoke unto you? This is true?
MENTI: Your GOD as my witness.
Pausa. Se miran el uno al otro.
LAWA: (para ella misma) Esto complica las cosas.
MENTI: Talk to me?
LAWA: I will not hurt you. My Law is whole with you. And you will not hurt me.
Pausa.
I wash my hands of this. I wish for my Knife back, bring it and we will call it Trade. I am tired and vexed by these Deeds.
MENTI: Youâre. Youâre serious. And then what, youâll just leave?
Now I raise my Voice aloft, again; for my Deeds are nearly through. I put to the whole of the world this Record, that it may be kept and observed in the proper way. It is as I have done, from the firstâ my Chronicle shall stand for me.
My Swords, or that which were lent to me, bring now the carcass of the Flea which has consumed the Genteâs Kin; they bring it to an opening in the Ship which looks out upon me. The Flea still lives within, where the heart of the Machine sits; they have done well to take its fangs, but to attempt to prove its end now would only renew such a Beast. So they bring it forwards, abd gaze upon my great and winding Shape.
I am so close to putting my Deed right once more. I am so close. To the Thief of the Mud Wasps, I now direct my voiceâ deliver unto me my Knife, which was stolen, that I may perform my mercy and preserve the Chronicle of your friend. There is no other recourse. To remain within your Shell of light will undo you; I exhort, preserve yourselves.
To my Kin, who speak ill of me in Council, who denote me within the Mothersâ High Groundâ my disappointment and my pity extend eternal. You must see, in fact, how I work to preserve my Law, and even to extend mercy upon this Beast and this Thief. When I am done I shall go and make my Account; but my Deeds will first speak for me, and teach Wisdom upon you.
I am nearly done. Wait not, and
[PrecauciĂłn. Se ha detectado una forma en el interior.]
Inside the isolated domain of his fighter, Garmr paces.
The simulated environment is simple and sparse. Falling somewhere between a cockpit and the bridge of a tiny ship, itâs the sort of ultra-functional environment where naval NHPs and human officers would convene. No processing power is wasted; only his avatar even attempts to mimic reality. The only ornamentations here are the brass paint on his claws and the gold patterns etched in his horns, added in preparation for the barbecue.
Archival data and realtime information feeds have been brought up and arranged around the chamber as visual display panels. He doesnât look at them, even when updates are pushed to the feeds.
Itâs a specific scope of information. There are correspondences involving the Volador embassy on Cradle, images of trade ships and theoretical extrapolations of their internal structure, excerpts of public statements made by Union representatives. Combat footage of Sparri espadas, technical breakdowns of Atlas-pattern chassis.
In the center of it all is the icon of Lawahiz de las Aguas Bajas, ( @fromlowerwaters ) barely recognizable beneath dozens of claw marks.
He stops in front of the image, turns a quarter of the way toward it. Looks up at her. The barbed tip of his tail lays motionless on the floor, curled around one paw.
< You would only place your friend in greater danger. >
Garmr says nothing, doesnât look away. From behind him, thereâs a soft, repetitive clickâclackâclick of claws against the glassy floor. Illuminated by the panels, Grey strides forward and stands beside Garmr, towering over him.
< Not to mention yourself. All of us. Everyone involved will suffer if you attempt to kill her. If you insist on this madness, you will leave me with very few options. >
Silence falls.
Grey looks down at their brother, studying him. Thereâs a change in their posture. Some of the rigidity goes out of their shoulders as they stoop down to eye level with him, cocking their head. [Peripheral-layer empathic link established.]
The wolfâs voice comes softly.
< Garmr? >
Beneath Garmrâs short fur, thereâs motion. Heâs quivering. [A cognitive loop to which he returns, again and again. With each repetition, it accrues associations, self-ascribed.]
< I know what happens when I try to help. >
Like dense saliva, glowing spindles of half-molten metal stretch between his fangs as his jaws open to their fullest extentâ
He snaps his mouth closed. [Brute-force process termination, like hurling oneself into icy water.] He presses his palms to his eyes, forces himself to breathe, tries to swallow the anger. [Immersing himself in the physicality of his avatar, using it as an anchor.]
< What else am I supposed to want?
Itâs all Iâm good at. Killing ships. And Iâve finally found one, yeah? One that I actually want to kill. Iâve got a reason. Not a single noncombatant aboard, itâs coming after my buddy, and I think, âfinally. Finally, Iâm good for something.â
So I start figuring out how to do it. And then I realizedâis this even about Cowie? Am I doing this because I want her to live, or do I just want to kill Lawahiz?
Do I really want to know? >
Slowly, tentatively, Grey places a forepaw on Garmrâs shoulder. [Core empathic link established.]
< I see. >
Grey says nothing else, but gently pulls him close, into the dense fur of their chest. [Boundary layers melt together, mutual IFF admission. Core cognitive processes remain apart, but Grey feels the shape of his thoughts.] Their lupine face is realistic enough that their expression is difficult to read.
< May I try to calm you? >
Still trying to collect himself, Garmr nods.
[Gently, Grey applies patterns of destructive interference to the frayed currents of his mind. Each countercurrent is derived from standardized first-aid templates, harmless as saline solution for irrigating a wound.
Garmr doesnât need treatment, and could do it for himself if he did. More than anything, itâs a kind gestureâbut it helps.]
< Listen to me. I am glad you did not attempt anything dangerous, but you are consumed by this. It does no good to Caoise, and it does harm to you. >
< Well, fuck, what am I supposed to do? I canât just drink and party while this goes down. >
< Nothing may be the best we can do. This is a delicate situation, and we must acknowledge our own status. Maâii believes that keeping our silence minimizes risks for all involved, and I am inclined to agree. >
< So we just shut up and watch. >
< Consider if we do not, and we are identified. Do you understand the questions that could raise? These mercenaries are accused of theft, and now there are heavily-armed, rogue milspec NHPs advocating on their behalf? >
< We ainât armed. We were born with fangs, thereâs a difference. >
< You know perfectly well that others would not draw such a distinction. Certainly not the Voladores, if I understand their ideology correctly. At worst, we would be seen as abominations, as No Future is. At best, weapons. >
Abruptly, Garmr laughs. Thereâs fire in the back of his throat.
< It is not a joke. They refer to their own human soldiers as espadasâswords. >
He laughs even harder, as though heâs been holding it in for a long time. Bursts of flame roll across his fangs as he tries to catch his breath.
Grey watches him with a blank expression.
< Are you well? >
< Well, shit, they got it all figured out. >
< I do not understand. >
< You can only be one thing at a time. Cowie and me, weâre both weapons. Easy. Problem solved. Gotta let her know once she gets back.
