Chapter Text
Arfel Zolya.
The Celestial Eye. Central Sector. The Mol System. Auriga.
I slowly opened my eyes and, upon seeing my study, wearily closed them again, for my hopes had been dashed once more, and the past hundred and fifty years had not been a figment of my sick mind or a mere, yet extremely realistic, dream.
One hundred and fifty years ago, I woke up in another person’s body, and that was definitely not what you usually expect after coming home from work, playing a few video games, and going to sleep. Even now, after so many years, I still have vivid memories of what I experienced back then. First came confusion, then disbelief, shock, fear, and finally…
Excitement…
Excitement at the realization of the adventures ahead, the desire to explore a new world that I had only ever seen and studied through a computer screen. And the reason lay in where, and into whose body, I had ended up.
It was a space strategy game, the ultimate goal of which, of course, was victory. And the path to it wasn’t limited to conquering the galaxy, but also to bringing whichever playable race closer to the ‘Endless’, whether through science, industry, or something similar.
The ‘Endless’ were an ancient and powerful civilization that had destroyed itself through a civil war known as the ‘Dust Wars’ thousands of years ago.
It was they, though this isn’t entirely accurate, who created the infrastructure and reshaped the galaxy to suit themselves through ‘Dust’, which consisted of infinitely small nano-elements capable of practically anything, including embedding a living being’s consciousness into a digital shell. Not artificial intelligence, but, in essence, a living soul.
In the game, as in reality, it turned out that Dust was used as currency, a source of energy, a way to alter the biology or properties of various living and non-living beings, and the list goes on and on.
My body, however, belonged to a certain ‘Arfel Zolya’, the counterpart to ‘Ilona Zolya’, the leader of one of the game’s races called the ‘Vaulters’, whom I always preferred because of their lore and gameplay. She, and now I, held the title ‘First’, in my case ‘First of the Bloodline’. And it was, in essence, synonymous with the word ‘monarch’ or ‘king’. Arfel had ruled the race for several generations.
One might think that the Vaulters had a monarchical form of government, but things were a bit more complicated. The ruler’s power was limited by several institutions at once, but nevertheless, they all pursued a single goal, the prosperity of the people, just like the First of the Bloodline, and so there weren’t really any problems.
The Vaulters themselves were a resilient, yet… rather unfortunate people. They, along with several other civilizations of the current era, descended from the ‘Mezari’ - essentially, people with a strikingly similar appearance who had founded their empire long ago, though after the Dust Wars.
The first Vaulters roamed the galaxy in search of a suitable world; in essence, they were Mezari and were crew members of their ‘Argosy’ colonization class ark. And after some time, they found it, albeit unintentionally.
It was Auriga, a planet that one of the factions in the Dust Wars had used as an underground biological laboratory. Here, experiments were conducted on various life forms and their interactions with one another; there were research facilities the size of cities, as well as a wealth of diverse, state-of-the-art equipment.
After surviving the crash of the Argosy, which had been shot down by the Endless’ still-operational planetary defense systems, on Auriga, the Vaulters deemed its surface inhospitable due to the extremely cold climate and therefore hid underground, where they experimented on themselves for the sake of survival, founded cities, and experienced a brief period of prosperity.
And so they called themselves the ‘Vaulters’ rather than ‘Mezari’, since their way of life resembled that of the shelter dwellers from another video game. But after some time, they were forced to emerge to the surface because their cities began to crumble for unknown reasons.
Fortunately, by this point, Auriga’s climate had recovered somewhat from the Dust Wars, though it still resembled the North Pole. And the Vaulters finally took on the appearance of space-age, high-tech Vikings, whose arsenal, in addition to firearms, included swords, shields, spears, crossbows, and so on.
However, following the wars with the freed test subjects of the Endless and the natives of Auriga, as well as the Great Earthquake, which completely turned the planet into an icy hell, the Vaulters lost their home once again. Using the repaired Argosy and taking whatever they could, they fled Auriga, leaving the majority of their own people on the dying planet.
My journey in this world began with waking up from cryosleep on the Argosy and subsequently landing on a planet more or less suitable for further development, which coincided with the game.
The Vaulters, both in the game and in reality, had a massive advantage thanks to a single Mezari technology that allowed them to do a great deal, namely, Portals. Transport a massive fleet from one colony to another? A matter of minutes. A surprise attack and siege on an enemy system? Send the Argosy and use it as a mobile Portal.
Of course, there were limitations. Only ships or objects protected against its effects could pass through Portals, since they consumed vast amounts of Dust and energy, which had an extremely detrimental effect on unprotected organisms. Naturally, there were exceptions, but they accounted for no more than one percent of all inhabitants of the Celestial Eye galaxy.
And so, after an incredible amount of effort, time, and blood, I was able to return the Vaulters to the terraformed Auriga, simultaneously declaring the Mol system in the Central Sector of the Celestial Eye, where it was located, the capital, and uniting the relatively small galaxy into a single Argo Federation under my leadership.
Its symbol was an eye with four curved lines along its outline, corresponding to the arms of the Celestial Eye. Inside, where the iris of the eye should have been, there was a hollow space where another symbol, belonging to a particular Argo race, was placed.
Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t have had a chance to accomplish something so grand and ambitious, but thanks to the Dust, all the accumulated knowledge, skills, and memories of the original Arfel Zolya passed to me without a single drop of sweat, and by the time I awoke, he was already over a thousand years old, again, thanks to the Dust.
At that moment, I had the rather attractive appearance of a middle-aged man with broad shoulders, a symmetrical face, prominent cheekbones, chestnut hair that fell to my back with a few white strands and a small tuft at the nape of my neck, and gray eyes.
On my forehead was a tattoo in the shape of the front part of a diadem or crown, consisting of several lines and symbolizing the monarch’s power, dignity, and immortality, while the one on my collarbone, with a similar design, symbolized strength and fortitude.
My outfit consisted of military boots, dark gray pants and a tunic, protective bracers, a cape, fingerless gloves, and two belts. My weapons included a long straight sword and six daggers, all high-tech, of course.
The excitement had long since faded and turned to nothing. It was replaced by homesickness and a desire to be back on Earth, among high-rises, video games, stuffy neighbors, and annoying coworkers. Yes, I was surrounded by relatively the same things now, but the point is that it was only ‘relatively’ the same. It’s like moving to another city and succeeding there, but the longing for home always remains, doesn’t it?
At that moment, the doors to my office opened, and Opbot entered, an intelligent medical support robot with two arms and legs, a light-green visor in place of eyes, but no mouth. He was created by the ancient Mezari and, after a long drift through space, crashed on Auriga, where the Vaulters found him before they fled the planet.
It was thanks to him that they managed to repair the Argosy for the rescue, and it was he who maintained the cryosleep capsules until my awakening. And at that moment, Opbot was acting as my deputy.
- “Lord First,” he said in his synthetic voice. “A report has come in from our colony. They are ready to activate the relay. The 2nd Patrol and 4th Strike Fleets are ready for a possible attack, and the 13th and 14th Support Fleets are at the Portals.”
My eyes lit up, and I gave a brief, satisfied nod.
The hope of seeing Earth flared up with renewed strength, and this was connected to where exactly the Argosy I had sent beyond the Celestial Eye had ended up decades ago. And it didn’t land just anywhere, but in the Milky Way itself, on a small garden planet, where it established a colony.
I drew these conclusions because I found the crew of that Argosy, specifically the relay, the Zero Element, and the Prothean beacon, which were part of yet another game universe familiar to me. Thanks to the beacon, the colonists received and sent all the necessary information here, including details about the Reapers, a race of giant synthetic squids controlled by AI. That’s actually why the 2nd Patrol and 4th Strike Fleets of Argo were stationed there, with two more ready to support them.
I wasn’t afraid of the Reapers, since Argo’s military might was more than enough to stand up to them. Besides, the Celestial Eye hardly fell under their jurisdiction, since the Endless fulfilled that role.
And although I didn’t know what stage that universe was at, it was clear that the Proteans had already perished. However, no matter what state Earth was in, that didn’t change the fact that it was there, and that was more than enough for me.
- “Good,” I said, summoning a holographic screen before me with the power of my mind. It was generated by a special chip implanted in my brain that functioned as a computer. “Let’s hope everything goes without bloodshed, and we manage to find intelligent, peaceful species that have explored space. However, let the admiral of the 2nd Patrol wait a week before sending probes to the other side or the fleet itself.”
- “Are you afraid of an invasion?” asked Opbot. “But if that’s the case, then why did you decide to transfer overall command of all four fleets specifically to the admiral of the 2nd Patrol?”
Argo’s main fleets were divided into Strike, Patrol, and Support fleets. In other words, suppression, holding positions, and literal support, which included logistics, repairs, medical care, evacuation in the event of a ship’s loss, construction, transportation, and personnel support, respectively. Consequently, the Support Fleets were the most critical elements of the space fleet and the conduct of military operations.
Number designations were also significant: single-digit numbers denoted veteran fleets that had already proven their effectiveness; two-digit numbers denoted main fleets carrying out most of the day-to-day military tasks; and three-digit numbers denoted reserve, training, or newly formed fleets.
And the number directly determined the priority for resupply, rearmament, and equipping of both the fleet as a whole and individual ships. Of course, there were rotations and reassignments, but generally speaking, a low number indicated combat merit and effectiveness. This was done to conserve resources, both in terms of manpower and Dust and materials.
Of course, there were others, but they specialized in civilian use, that is, Trade, Research, Passenger, and so on, whose purpose corresponded to their name.
- “Serz is more lenient compared to Iotar, Ting, and Baramaxa. Yes, Iotar is more knowledgeable in military affairs, but for now I’d rather hope for the best.”
- “As you wish,” Opbot said, letting out a sound like a weary sigh. “Should I convene the Senate?”
- “Not yet. Colonization of the system is proceeding smoothly, and we haven’t encountered any intelligent species from another galaxy yet. There’s nothing to report, nor anything to put to a vote,” I said, dismissing the screen with a wave of my hand and leaning back in my chair. “I’ve transferred some Dust to your account. Allocate it toward preparing probes for deep-space exploration. If the information from the Prothean beacon is accurate, the Reapers may be hiding somewhere near the Milky Way. Since we’re planning to colonize it, regardless of whether intelligent species are found there, I’d like to know exactly where the potential threat was located.
- “That’s not ‘a little’ at all, Lord First. Why not use the Dust from the Federation’s accounts?”
- “My guesses might be off, and the Senate will either refuse or drag its feet on a decision, especially Lumeris, and this way, I’m the only one spending the Dust. Besides, I have nowhere else to put it,” I said. “All right, go ahead.”
- “As you wish,” Opbot nodded and left the office, and I relaxed and closed my eyes.
So, now all that’s left is to wait. We’ll see what news the fleets bring me.
-0-
Matriarch Vasheri.
Milky Way. Outer space of the Citadel. Widow System. Near the Citadel.
Standing on the bridge of the Council’s diplomatic ship, I checked my appearance once more. I’d chosen a long-sleeved dress, which was the fashion standard, with low-heeled boots on my feet, and light makeup that slightly brightened my violet skin tone. And after making sure I looked perfect, I reviewed the important mission assigned by the Council once more.
A new relay station had been activated yesterday, designated “185” in honor of the current year according to the Galactic Standard Calendar. It was located in the Citadel’s Outer Space, and I was to hold a diplomatic meeting with a new species that had opened interstellar travel. Plus, I’d be paid very well for this mission.
I took a deep breath and hoped the new species would be peaceful, then looked at the pilots.
- “Let’s go.”
The diplomatic ship moved toward the jump gate and made the jump. And then, a few seconds later, when we emerged on the other side, my body froze with fear, my skin broke out in goosebumps, and my clean dress was soaked with cold sweat.
- “W-what is this…?! “H-how is s-such a thing p-possible…?!?” I whispered in a trembling voice.
Right in front of the ship was an entire armada of warships with an incredibly vast array of heavy weaponry. I counted about five hundred, including two dreadnoughts, judging by their size. And they were definitely larger than the ‘Destiny Ascension’, the largest and most formidable warship ever built in the Citadel’s space.
It was the most formidable fleet I had ever seen, and now all these ships had surrounded the relay station, as if waiting for me, which couldn’t help but terrify me and spark a panicked desire in my mind to flee as quickly as possible.
- “Y-your orders?” one of the pilots asked me, at which I swallowed a large lump in my throat and quickly began to compose myself.
- “C-connect me to one of the largest ships. We’re diplomats, and I hope they won’t open fire on us,” I replied, having somehow calmed myself down.
After what felt like an eternity of anxiety and fear, long seconds of waiting, the connection was established. The entire crew breathed a loud sigh of relief, but it was too soon to relax, since we hadn’t yet managed to arrange a rendezvous.
- “This is Admiral Serz Kersho of the Argo Federation’s 2nd Patrol Fleet. Identify yourselves and state your intentions. Until the circumstances are clarified, any actions that pose a threat to the fleet's safety will be stopped,” a male voice boomed from the speakers.
My omni-tool was able to recognize the language, which was a relief, and, as it turned out, it was a mixture of human and Azari. But most importantly, the new species was ready to engage in dialogue.
- “This is Matriarch Vasheri speaking. I represent the Citadel Council, the executive committee of the interracial supranational alliance of the explored portion of this galaxy, and my ship and visit are of a strictly diplomatic nature. I am here to meet with representatives of your species and establish the first diplomatic contact between our peoples for the sake of peace and prosperity. Is it possible to grant my request?” I said, summoning all my courage.
A brief silence hung in the air, fraying my nerves and heightening my anxiety. But I waited for a response from the other side, hoping I would live to see another day without turning into cosmic dust.
- “Your request has been granted,” came the reply a couple of minutes later, causing my legs to give way and sending me to my knees as I felt an incredible sense of relief and realized that everything had gone well. “Remain at your current position. A convoy will arrive shortly and escort you to the meeting point.”
- “G-got it,” I replied quickly, then corrected myself. “Got it. Thank you for your kindness and understanding.”
- “And to you as well. See you on the ship,” said the voice, and the transmission ended. I nodded to the pilots, slowly stood up, and headed to my cabin to freshen up.
Praise to Athame, it all ended well… Praise to Athame…
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