Who Counts
About three years ago, I posted a story that I intended to be a one-shot: What Counts. I recently thought of a follow-up that might amuse and entertain, so I took the trouble to write it down. I hope that this expansion does not detract from the original.
EDIT: Continuation here.
***
It was good to be back home; while a starship was supposed to have everything necessary for the continuation of life, nothing ever felt as good – as right – as the soil that birthed your people. The right shade to the sunlight, the correct amount of breeze, the dead-on smells in the air, the temperature that fit the season and the clime and your skin.
And the startlingly fat bank account I returned with felt pretty nice, too, of course.
I’d actually made over twice what I’d projected would be my big haul, simply because that human fellow, Jack, had taught me the hidden wisdom of his people. No, not simply. There is a wealth of understanding there, and I am still unaware of most of it. It should be quite the haul – I paid half my profit for it, after all. I stepped off the return ship, collected my luggage, and made arrangements for my cargo to clear customs and be shipped to a waiting area. I didn’t have an office, warehouse, or staff, and I wasn’t about to ship my finds to my father’s storage; I owned them, not him.
But familial obligations did not disappear just because I was independent now – a successful adult, I reminded myself, unlike the predictions he had made when I left to join the Great Run of a trading caravan. I had to remind myself, yet again, that I wanted to conceal my success, not announce it with fanfare. I didn’t know much, I had no support, and I was easy economic prey for a predator in this particular ecology. At the moment.
First thing first – opt out of the food chain as much as I could. I found a local data cafe, and registered to use their network access. It was a (relatively) simple matter to pay off the loan I had taken out to fund my initial purchase, and then I went on to pay off all the outstanding loans I had: adult educational levels, transport purchase (I didn’t have the vehicle any more – completely destroyed in an accident – but it was quite the fun ride during my adolescence), dwelling rental (and storage for when I was off planet); I was now financially unencumbered.
Mostly – I still had to pay off my clan for true independence. But the typical age for that was 30, and I had barely reached 23. I was ahead of the game. And the only strings that I had to answer to were controlled by … my father. Sigh. I would have to meet him, now that I was back.
Still, I had the unexpected wealth from my trading ventures stored away in a spare account, and I still had a goodly amount left from my expected returns – with any fortune, I would be able to take my place in the top hands of my people’s success stories.
--
Top hands? That’s the upper tier of the ranked wealthy: in our culture, that’s the top eight out of sixty-four … um, twelve and a half percent. Look, how about I just translate the cultural references, too? I mean, you people only have one arm on each side, you’ve got that extra finger on each hand, you’re easily less than two-thirds the proper height, and those skin issues make you that strange color; so much of how I think and what I noticed won’t make sense to you unless I put it into proper context.
--
No, that was an irritated and condescending look. Of course I know human culture well enough to do that! I spent a lifetime translating your best business literature into something that is effective in my culture – this is one thing that I have got down pat! (And see there – I used an idiom of your people to show my ability to use your idiom! So sit down and shut up, gospodnik.)
--
In any case, I returned to my family home to meet with my father. The family estate is a goodly distance away from the port where I arrived, but distance is the same as time, and time is always in short supply, so I distracted myself with meditating during the trip. (Because I wasn’t doing the flying myself, you understand. That was a lesson I only needed to learn once – even though the bank insisted that I keep paying off the flyer.) In my mind, I turned over one of the great aphorisms of the human market – “Price is what you pay. Value is what you get.” – and I may have come to a slight understanding.
Anyway, the trip was over all too soon, and I elected to knock rather than test to see if I was as completely disowned as I thought (My departure wasn’t peaceful, wasn’t planned, and wasn’t regretted. By myself, at least.) One of the Mamas answered, and I doubt that she knew who I was.
“I’m Shonarth, and I am here to meet with my father,” I announced.
She twittered around, and eventually realized that he would have to be notified that I was at the door. At length, I could see him approaching and the Mama flitted back to whatever duties they could give to an empty-headed thing like her.
(No, you look, short stuff. That’s not misogyny – that’s a rational realization that the impetus behind my father’s mating was economic advantage and hormonal release; to be brief, money and beauty. And if a woman of my people declares that her entire rationale for existence was to be the biological mechanism for wealth transfer, I’m going to give her the deference of believing her, and give her the respect that such a wasteful choice deserves.)
“I had hoped that you would appear at my threshold sooner,” he said.
I rolled my eyes. “A Grand Tour does not lend itself to weekend commutes, Father.”
He grunted. “Be welcome in your home.” He added, “Your room is as you left it.”
“In desperate need of organization and sanitizing?” I wasn’t being flippant – like I said, my exit from my Father’s home was unplanned, and I was an immature youth at the time.
“Well,” he slowly drew it out, “I had the Mamas go through and remove everything that would have decomposed. It might not be as bad as you remember.”
“If it is,” I allowed, “the most merciful thing to do would be to light it on fire.”
Father nodded in agreement.
We arrived at the family parlor – he didn’t even hesitate to acknowledge me as family, a big change from last time – and we made the small talk that adults made. Business, politics, status posturing, the usual. He indirectly inquired about my profit; I elliptically informed him that I wasn’t insolvent. My money is mine, old man. If you need some, get your own. He grunted, and turned the conversation in another direction.
“You should start looking to find a wife. You are getting to that age, and founding your own family will help your business image.”
‘Getting to that age?’ I wasn’t planning on getting married until I paid off my Childhood Bond to my clan, so I could run my household without his interference. I had watched how he poisoned all his relationships with his overbearing interference, until he had to continually find new buyers, investors, and Mamas to keep his estate running. He’s not doing the same in my life.
And the urge to saddle me with my first wife likely means that he plans to use the familial connection to force an investment or business activity. And having his Prime Son with a separate household would give him the status to dictate a few terms in his business circles; interest rates were trending up, and I knew that he was typically heavily leveraged. Exploiting that would be worth picking things up with my top hands – oh, sorry, worth a great inconvenience to grasp an opportunity like that.
But the practical reality of the matter was that I had my own plans, and living my life by his desires would lead me to living his life; not what I wanted at all. “I think not, Father.”
“I know a family that wants to marry off several comely girls, Shonarth,” he told me.
“I doubt that any of your friends want me as a son, and none of your enemies would let a daughter into your home,” I said dryly. “I will find my own mate, Father. But … do you really think I should get married so young? I’m still about seven years away from paying off my childhood!”
“Yes, well,” he looked around the parlor. “Perhaps I can give you a discount for paying your bond off early?”
He knew the key to my attention well. “I suppose,” I said as I affected nonchalance. “But I was counting on paying off the actual cost, not the symbolic payment. Are you interested in discounting that amount?” The symbolic Bond was a token payment that signified adult-hood; the Full Bond amount (the actual cost of raising that child to adulthood) being paid signified leaving the clan completely.
I don’t think that it surprised him that I wanted to end his influence over me and my future. It was his turn to hem and haw; he finally responded with, “I’m not sure that I can come up with the exact amount, son …”
“Father, I can call your factor and get a detailed breakdown of my debt to you, itemized by year, in less than an hour. And you know it.”
“Well,” he hedged, “we might be able to work out a minor discount.”
“The future value of my payoff in seven years, discounted to today, is about 54% of the total, and that’s not counting the concessions you were going to bully out of your seed company, your banker, and your buyer. The sooner I get married, the sooner your farm lowers expenses. And I’m not in a hurry to complicate my life with Mamas running my day.” I sat back and waited for him to respond.
It didn’t seem like he was going to. “Well,’ he tried weakly, “I might be able to work out a 5% discount.”
“Then it would make more sense for me to invest my money now, not get married, and wait until I have enough money to pay back everything that you’ve spent on me.” I was firm, and stood up. “I need to arrange for my apartment utilities to be turned on, and I’ve got to get some sort of transportation worked out. I’m heading back to the city. I assume your comm-code hasn’t changed?”
He shook his head, and walked me to the front, with a stop on the way at the family shrine. My obeisance was perfunctory, even more than my Father’s, but I didn’t get any flack from it.
--
Back in my apartment, it was in better shape than my room in my Father’s estate: no dust, neat and orderly, and without the lingering feeling of enforced obedience.
The water, power, data, air, and scent conditioner were all running well, so I just needed clothing and food; the clothing I had offworld wouldn’t give me the social standing to even approach the dealers I wanted to talk to, so … food tonight, clothing tomorrow.
I had thought about protecting my information edge on the trip back to my home planet, and I elected to do that now. I did a little exploration at the local university datalayer, and found that there hadn’t been any notable advances in cryptography during my absence, so I dumped all of Jack’s datacard into a filelocker and, just for fun, cube encrypted it.
--
Eh? I encrypted the data stream three times, using a personal method to shift the start and end of the file so that it can’t be easily detected. Any standard method can be cracked using a standard attack; using a non-standard method means any attacker has to mount a brute force comprehensive attack worth more than the probable value of my file.
--
Ok, so in the following days I thought really hard about what my father wanted, what I was culturally programmed to do, and what was within my means with the remnant of my profits. I could pay off the Vaclathi clan if they would agree to a 36% discount (or more), but I wouldn’t have much left to bankroll another attempt at business if I did that. And there were some attractions to getting married, if I could find a Mama that didn’t interfere with my life too much … which kept bringing me to the question I had been trying to avoid for about a year now.
What did I want?
Some Earth sayings bubbled to the surface of my mind.
Invest in yourself. Your career is the engine of your wealth.
Know what you own, and know why you own it.
The richest people in the world build networks and invest in people.
I was on the cusp of something, here, I just knew it. But it consistently eluded me.
I went to sleep. Again.
--
“Shonarth? This is your Father. I’ve arranged for you to be admitted to the Fethruvath Walk. Your ticket is being emailed to you, it’s being held tomorrow night at 5. I hope you can find a Mama that tickles your fancy!”
Phone messages suck. Especially ones that are just there when you wake up. One week after telling him that I’m not going to take a wife from one of his friends, he gets me this? Hmm, he must have gotten to work on this as soon as I got into the cab.
Fethruvath Walk, by-the-by, is a ritual display of eligible females for the upper crust. It used to be just their Mama taking the poor girl for a walk around a display ring, but over the centuries it has become slightly less crass, involving a large banquet space and tables for each of the girls to sit at, along with a tray of portable foods that, originally, the girls made themselves. A couple of hundred generations ago, the caterers took over that particular duty (widespread food poisoning forced a change in the format) – these girls aren’t expecting to cook, after all.
My business wardrobe was due to be delivered today, so I would be able to blend in … wait – why did I want to blend in? Didn’t I want to stand out? The bonus was that this would be quite embarrassing to my Father and whoever provided him the ticket … Spacer’s duds it was.
I went out to my leased warehouse space and got some glumbles – tchotchkes, for you shorties – out of the boxes. A few were small and suitable for concealing in my pocket, which I could distribute to an insistent girl without outright rejecting her. Dressed in my crew uniform with its planetary patches, I figured that this would be enough to upset that social order nicely.
It was an easy wait until the Walk began, as I was expecting, frankly, to be thrown out shortly after entering. If I was planning on obtaining my first Mama, I would have been a bundle of nerves, but as it was … expecting to be the object of public ridicule? My adolescence honed that skill to the sharpness of a double-handed axe. I got this.
Shortly before queueing for the entrance line, I looked more closely at the certificate that I had been sent: I was to wait and enter at the end of the line. One hundred and twenty-eighth out of one hundred twenty eight. I grinned. I was going to have to look sharp for the cameras if I was going to be the wrap up.
One hour later, I found that I was only half-right. There was only one camera crew, from the bottom-feeder gossip network that was still recording the entrants. The others had probably packed up after the all the recognizable names had passed through, leaving no-names that wouldn’t draw an audience.
“… and the last entrant is an unknown, wearing a spacer uniform with all the planetary patches for a Caravan Great Run, proving that he has been trading on at least 50 planets, and so young, too …”
Entering the hall, I surveyed the young Mamas on offer. Each one was dressed to the limits of their budget, and wore a carefully cultivated expression of disdain and haughtiness. I had no idea how they expected to attract their way into another family, but being despised wasn’t high on my list of traits to bring into my life.
A server approached me, “Would the young gentleman care for a glass of wine?”
It didn’t look like I was quite as repulsive as I had … hoped. “No thank you.” A stroke of inspiration hit. If they weren’t going to cause a scene, I’d just have to do it for them. “I’m just on my way out. None of these Mamas are worth my time.” I waved him away in faux irritation, and left.
I almost missed the last newscaster as they were packing up, but managed to let them buttonhole me into an interview. “Young sir, why are you leaving the event so early?”
I waited until I was sure that the video crew was pointed in my direction. “It was easy to see that none of these young Mamas are up to the standard I am looking for. While every care was made for their appearance, the ladies underneath the finery are … truly not suitable. Have a good day!” With a jaunty wave I left them in slack-jawed awe at the disrespect I had paid to the self-appointed high and mighty.
I had the concept, but not the words. Time to search for help. Permanent help.
--
A short sleep refreshed me enough that I was back at the search. A population search – females, old enough to have finished a specialist’s education, old enough to have felt the sting of being unwanted by the few men of their year. There were some serious personal costs that resulted from our pattern of five females to each male birth, and I might have just hit on a way to profit from it. It was those human aphorisms that pointed the way, but I needed to refine it, make it work within my world.
I needed help, just like I was seeking, and the longer I took to find it, the greater the risk that this epiphany would slip out of my grasp.
Ding. Search complete.
The list wasn’t as long as I hoped, so the chances of finding an expert of the type I wanted was quite small … but needs must. The list of their educational specialties was actually quite repetitive; any of the subjects that could cover traditional subjects of the home were there in abundance. Cooking, visual arts, textiles, all there in profusion. No financial subjects, no business concentrations, no information studies.
Time to search another way. Female, unwed, specializing in taxonomy, cladistics, classification, categorization, folksonomy, or ontology. Whew. Quite a list.
The wait this time was quite a bit longer. The list was quite a bit shorter, and primarily had the names of librarians; exclude those, they’re not quite what I was looking for.
Hmm. 36 years, in this city, attached to the university, as a historical ontologist. Perfect! And now for the payoff of all those adolescent years as a troubled youth – contact a medium level private detective-slash-information broker for her probable public appearances.
Yes, it’s stalking. Just the once. In a good cause, I promise.
--
At the start of the next week, I was set. A small café just outside the campus where she preferred to take her, um, morning coffee. (For us, that mid morning break is when we take a small meal. Call it first lunch?)
She was mousy, a non-entity, her body language was all about deflection, avoidance, evasion of notice. Physically, she was about the personification of average, which made my plans quite a bit easier. She was startled at my appearance at her table, and she drawing her arms into a defensive posture, upper set protecting her neck, lower protecting her torso. I was obviously going to have to start us off.
“I understand that you are Zia Cloovatni, correct?”
She hesitantly accepted that.
“And I’ve been told that you are a historical ontologist.” I grinned, but she didn’t seem to find that encouraging. “What I haven’t been told is what that is; can you please give me an overview of your specialty?”
Her arms indicated relaxation, and she blinked. “I investigate the knowledge structure used in various times in history, and show how their ontology – the organization of knowledge – directly leads to their actions.”
“To me, that sounds like your specialization is vastly overqualified for my needs, but in every other way, you are exactly the person I am looking for.”
She blinked again, quite confused. “Really? For what?”
I sat back. “I can’t quite tell you yet. We can do this one of two ways. The least acceptable way is for me to give you a private commission, and you take a security bond to keep the details of the commission confidential.” I paused, hoping to draw her out. Surely someone with her intelligence has curiosity?
I was right – she took the bait. “And what is the preferable way?”
I tried to keep my smile reassuring, rather than confrontational. “I would prefer to take you as my first wife, and work with you on a permanent basis.”
Her eyes squinched shut. “That is not funny.”
“No,” I agreed, “it isn’t, and the offer is not a joke. I make this offer in all seriousness, because I cannot achieve my dreams without your help.”
This naked, earnest honesty was very difficult for me, but in preparing for this encounter, I realized that she would have been the veteran of many disappointed encounters, and the probable holder of many dashed dreams. She would be suspicious of being an object of ridicule, and very experienced in detecting condescension or disdain. The only chance I had of winning the perfect partner was to be completely open with my motives and plans, to show her that I had nothing to hide and that she had nothing to fear: only then would she even give me the consideration I wanted.
“So, why would you want me for your wife?” She was barely above a whisper, but there were very few other patrons in the café. I suspected that she didn’t want to speak of a painful dream aloud.
I smiled again, only this time, it was rueful. “I think that the tale will be right up your alley – it is mostly about how I came to reorganize my values and priorities. Building a new ontology, you might say.”
She straightened up at that, her eyes losing their wary distance, and I knew that she was going to pay attention. I also saw that she was much more attractive than she gave herself credit for.
“First of all, I am Shonarth Vaclathi, of 23 years, and in possession of a modest bankroll. Not a fortune yet, but I can see my way from here. My father has made it quite clear what he wants me to become and how he wants me to live, and I am desperate to avoid his life at all costs. I desperately want to be out of his house, and I had left when I was just 17. I am negotiating to pay off my Childhood Bond, and I think that I can get him to discount it as if I’m paying it off seven years early.”
She showed puzzlement. “But the Bond doesn’t have a set payoff date, so how could you do so ‘early’? And there isn’t an interest rate, so a discount doesn’t make sense.”
“I know.” Smirk. “But he’s always been easy to confuse when he’s chasing a payoff, and I dangled the immediate money in front of him; he’s thinking that some money now is better than all the money later. Anyway, he is also pressuring me to get married so that …”
“… he will be bumped up to Elder status, and be able to swing a bit more leverage in his business deals,” she concluded.
“Yes, that was what I calculated as well,” I agreed. “He got me an invitation to the Fethruvath Walk – I have no idea what that might have cost him – but I am not interested in furthering his aims, only mine own. And when the opportunity came up to further several of my own plans all at the same time, I just couldn’t see letting the opportunity pass by.”
She regarded me carefully without saying anything for a few moments. Then, “And what were those aims?”
I brought a lower hand up to count upon. “First, I intend to make my marriages partnerships. Which means that it is counterproductive to participate in or support events such as the Fethruvath Walk, where the ladies are merely bait for the interests of a Clan as defined by a male leader. I will not place my father’s aims above my own, as I refuse to live the life that he has built for himself. So I cannot and will not marry for any reason other than a mutual agreement of partnership.” Ticking off those reasons exhausted that hand, so I switched to my other lower hand.
“Most important – and this reason is worth a hand of its own – is that I needed to prove to my first wife that I am completely in earnest when I tell her that she is the one I choose above all others.”
She almost imperceptibly withdrew; hopefully to contemplate my sincerity and my offer.
She roused from her immobility to exclaim, “You are that man! The one who dismissed the entire Fethruvath Walk!”
I was a little taken aback. “I wasn’t aware that they even bothered to show that little interview,” I said hesitantly.
“Why? What was wrong with all those girls?”
“Every one that I could see was dismissive and conceited,” I said simply.
“Why is that so important?”
Hmm, this might be difficult to get across. “Let be back up to give some history. I returned about three weeks ago from a trading Grand Tour. In my travels, I found myself under the tutelage of a Master Trader of the human variety, and he taught me a great deal. I have learned to categorize each expense and receipt, to improve my knowledge of my business. He also taught me about the concept of marginal utility; the idea that additional amounts of a good are frequently less useful that the initial amount of the thing. And while I applied that to the marketplace, and it helped me to change a massive loss into a more than massive gain, I also applied it to my life.”
I considered her thoughtfully as I paused. Zia seemed to be processing all this well. “I enjoy the company of a pretty woman.” She flinched. I suppressed a smile. “And I also enjoy conversation with an intelligent person. And I prefer to associate with people that are kind, compassionate, and supportive. Weighing each of those traits, I found that beyond a certain level of pleasing appearance, having the woman be more beautiful wasn’t all that useful; it lacked marginal utility. Having the woman be more cheerful, having her be more loyal, having her be more caring – all those things have great value, and are the things I am pursuing.”
She was pushing herself away from the table, clearly having trouble believing what she knew was coming next.
“That is why I sought out and am pursuing you.”
Quite flustered, she sought to change the subject, and I allowed it. “Why do you want an ontologist?”
“There are any number of empty-headed fluffballs that are merely pleasant; I am looking for an intelligent woman for a partnership, someone who can keep up with me and even challenge me. As I said, I have some classification and organizational tasks that would probably be exactly what you do, were it not so trivial for you. It will not be a stretch of your skills to create a categorization system to track all the monetary flow within a business …”
Zia held up her top hands to stop me. “That work has already been done. We joined the stellar civilizations about five thousand years ago, and when their power generation technology became commonplace, the corporate world joined them in the lump-sum accounting that they use. Government followed less than a generation later. Before that, our people developed an,” she sniffed in derision, “adequate categorization system for business accounting.”
I showed a bit of pleasure with my next question. “I suppose that you have already investigated it and determined where it should be improved?”
She slowly began to show happiness. “That depends entirely on your aims. If your only desire is to stem wasteful spending, then the existing systems of the 134th century will be enough. I have a friend in archeological data mining; I’m sure that she can find an accounting program that will suffice …,” she slowly finished her sentence, “… for us.”
“Us?”
“Yes, for us,” she affirmed.
“I feel that I should warn you,” I mentioned, “that I am quite immature, although I’m told that should you be able to keep me alive, I will eventually be cured of that condition.” I tried my best ingratiating expression. “And you will have the dubious opportunity to influence my growth so that I become more in line with the kind of man you desire as a husband.”
She took a deep breath – preparatory to broaching a painful subject, I thought. I was right. “And what do you plan for your secondary Mamas?”
I firmly made eye contact. “I am seeking a total partnership. Both of us will have veto power over any additional Mamas. It is a biological reality that with a 5:1 gender ratio, each marriage needs to accept an average of 5 females. But,” I punctuated with upper hands raised high, “we need not rush to add anyone, and we need not accept any that upend what we are trying to build. They need to fit in with us – and I will veto any addition that would undermine your position as Head Mama.”
Zia slowly indicated her relief. “That is all the assurance I needed.” She smirked. “I will need your comm-code, of course, and we will have to meet my family fairly soon. Especially if we want to have the ceremony this weekend.”
I had been starting to stand – I slammed down onto the chair. “What?”
Zia was vastly amused, I could tell. It wasn’t as if she was attempting to conceal it, after all, and I suspected that it was at my expense. Fortunately, like everything else she did, it was a gentle humor.
I tried to explain my shock. “I had assumed that it would take quite a bit longer to get your agreement, and that I would have time to arrange for a home for us; I only have a one room apartment by the spaceport …”
“I have a solution for that, too.” As she got up from the café table, she asked, “Do you want to maintain your connection to your birth family or your clan?”
“Not at all,” I shot back. “But … what does that have to do with anything?”
“Well, if you can get your father to state your debt, regardless of the discount, you can give him the payoff right before our ceremony.”
“But that’s why I need to argue him into a discount – I need to preserve my bankroll to start up our business,” I argued.
“You won’t be paying it – my father will.”
“Um, Zia,” I said gently, “no dowry has ever been that much.”
“No, but combined with a clan buy-in, we can make it work. Father can cover it, and we have some homes that will do nicely. You will be in the Cloovatni clan, living with us, instead of under the thumbs of your father.”
Clan buy-ins sometimes flowed to the clan, in the case of a strong clan allowing in a desperate member. And sometimes they flowed to the individual, when the clan was seeking a new … heir? I shook my head to clear my confusion. It didn’t work. “So why are you saying yes so rapidly? You know so little about me?”
Her answer translates almost perfectly into a saying from Earth: “Opportunities come infrequently. When it rains gold, put out the bucket, not the thimble.”
And after our business began, shortly after I became a Cloovatni scion, we were able to put into words the realization that I had, the one that started our family. It’s not ‘people over policies’ – it’s ‘people *are\* our policy’. We selected our people, we invested in our people, we set up systems where they could achieve and excel.
And by rewarding our people, we are in turn rewarded.

Synopsis: After hoodwinking Darkos, a holy priest, into escorting her back to her castle, Dark Enchantress Geela has one item left on her list: revenge on her ex-husband. With a confused Darkos in tow, she sets out. However, Geela isn't the only one with secrets. And Barney isn't the only old enemy who's about to get a visit.
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“Geela. Geela, their eyes,” Darkos said, as soon as the two had stepped outside and removed their plugs.
“Yes, Darkos, I see.”
“Yeah but they look burned out. Like. Really burnt.”
“Yes. I understand what you’re saying.”
“But do you think… could it be… light magic?” Darkos peered in the window, looking down at Thisslina’s corpse. “Their skin is glowing gold.”
“Yes Darkos, I do. I do think it could be light magic.” An irritated aura radiated off of her and Darkos turned back to her.
“Not very subtle.” Darkos ran a hand through his hair, the jitters from doing some forensic science pushing away the Sudden NEWDS a bit. “I mean, assuming there’s some guard work that happens, or a detective comes in or something, someone is gonna draw the connection back to the church. Lune can’t want that.”
Geela was tapping her chin in a nefarious sorta way. “Or maybe she does. Remember, if she is, in fact, the child of Noire we expect she might be, casting a damning light on the church may simply be part of her plot. It keeps the nature of the murderer cosmic instead of void.”
“So… she didn’t do this herself?”
Geela shot him a look that looks particularly sinister with her dark eyes. “You think she’d trust a lackey to do something so… important?”
“Well…” Darkos didn’t want to say anything to highlight Geela’s own magical shortcomings but he had to speak. “Well. You can’t do light magic. And I can’t either. Because Noire is the source of our powers.” He stopped, stomach twisting and a sweat broke out on the back of his neck. “Um. So. If we can’t cause Noire—”
“Ohhh, yes. You’re right, this is a setup.” Geela’s voice leapt to a new excited note. “Ooh I do love a good plot. So Lune sent outs some of the priests involved in the drug trade to take out the Jades. No doubt the priests thought they were protecting their church’s interests. This brings us back to the real question of: what is Lune’s master strategy?”
“Maybe it’s just to topple the Church of Celeste?” Darkos shifted. “I mean, you said she was turn-off-the-sun-powerful, so maybe just imploding her main temple is enough.”
Darkos could see gears turning in Geela’s head. “Ahh, I like that. She’s not trying to shift the worship away from Celeste to herself or to Noire. That would be impossible. But by dissolving the temple here, that alone would release a metric ton of snap energy. The shattered faith of a million followers breaking away from their deity, well the power swell would be massive.”
“Yeah. Yeah and she wouldn’t even have to raise her head or reveal herself as evil.” Darkos’s heart picked up as he clicked more pieces together. “She could even evacuate and go to the next biggest Church of Celeste, find a way to topple that one!”
“Mmm, yes, very devious.” Geela nodded approvingly. “Those noodles have done something good to your brain. It’s useful for once. So Lune’s goal isn’t to coast within the temple and leech energy from it, it’s to destroy it. Which means…”
Darkos could see her lips droop as she came to the same conclusion Darkos did.
“We have to protect it,” he said. He looked back inside at the glowing bodies. Thisslina’s face formed an outraged O and her husband, whose name they hadn’t bothered to learn, had a very displeased pout. “Feels kinda bad they got caught up in this whole Noire storm.”
“Sparkle noodles can kill people, Darkos. They were dealing them.” She shrugged. “I’m satisfied with this end for them. Come on. We’re going back to the church before someone finds us here.”
Geela was probably just mad that the couple had called her a vagabond. Darkos felt a deep sense of conflict over their deaths. He should pity them and when he pictured their homely faces, politely but firmly refusing to let himself and Geela travel with them, way back in the Arid Regions, he did. When he pictured sawing off Thisslina’s thumb, his body sagged at the sad fate that had befallen them. But when he pictured the breakdown inducing experience of the noodles, he felt a bit more mixed up.
“Are noodles addictive?” he asked.
“You should be fine,” Geela said. “If you ease into them, they’re incredibly addictive but if you’re just plunged in the deep end, you won’t.”
“We were always told drugs were really bad,” Darkos said. “I guess the cultists did teach something worthwhile.”
Geela snorted. “Not likely. Drugs can temporarily pollute your power and energies. Not good for a void fiend trying to siphon life forces. Besides, there are tons of drugs that are legal and perfectly harmless if you follow the rules. There are also just drugs that will ruin you, no matter what rules you follow. Like ice blades or sparkle noodles.”
So the couple had likely been complicent in murder. This made Darkos feel a bit better until he started doubting himself again. Was the void child in him trying to make him feel good about the deaths? Was Darkos thinking a little too much like Lune? Why did he hate the church so much? Was he being too evil?
His thoughts occupied him the rest of the way to the church as Geela laid out a plan of action regarding their next steps. Darkos just planned on following along. His brain was too messed up and he was starting to feel sick.
“Oh! Mrs. and Mr. Bronwyn!”
Darkos’ neck snapped up from where he was studying the patterns of mud on his shoes. He hadn’t realized that the two of them had been plowing through the church until they came to a stop in Sonatad’s little study. The chubby boy was jamming his glasses on, hands shaking.
“I did some research on the Sparkle Noodles,” he said. “They appear rather bad. People can get addicted to them and act not like themselves. I’ve started reaching out to a few noodle support groups in the area to see if they can help me track down addicts and create some programs to show them support while we try to cut off the source of the drugs.”
Darkos wanted to groan. Why was this kid so responsible?
“Mmm, lovely. So you did end up talking about the situation?” Geela’s eyes held the boy as he bobbed on his feet.
“I spoke to some of my most trusted sources.” He took a deep breath and took his glasses off, polishing them. “A few of the younger priests, since the effects of Sparkle Noodles would be really obvious on them. And a few people I know wouldn’t be on drugs themselves.”
“Such as?” Geela’s voice was hard and Sonatad swallowed.
“Minister Raidash, parishioner Scooter, and Lune, who you already met.” He leaned against his desk, trying to fix them with a calm stare but his hairline was damp. “Why?”
Geela turned to Darkos, an eyebrow raising as if to share a message with Darkos. He didn’t really need it because he’d, of course, expected to hear this.
“You told Lune?” he asked.
Sonatad sighed. “I know you don’t like her or you don’t trust her and I understand—”
“The Jades are dead.” Geela took a step forward, looming over the small boy. “The couple responsible for trading the noodles.”
He fixed her with bright greenish blue eyes. “That’s wonderful!” he said, totally missing the point. “So the drugs are gone!”
“Oh my poor boy.” Geela wooshed her robes away, the cape thwapping against the priest’s face. “It’s not that simple. It never is. The person who killed them wasn’t doing you any favors. The Jades simply brought the supplies but the mastermind behind the operation, they were the one to kill the traders.”
Sonatad looked at Darkos, as if hoping for some clarification, and maybe a tad of sympathy. “Why would a drug lord kill their dealers?”
“Because the dealers had become a liability,” Darkos said, his voice a good degree softer than Geela’s. “Because we knew the Jades were dealing and all we had to do was question them, maybe rough them up a bit, and we’d get all the information they knew. Including the identities of everyone involved.”
“Traffickers are a dime a dozen.” Geela’s lips pinched into a tight line. “Trust me. Most of them have cotton for brains. Your ‘drug lords’ within the church will find a new one in no time.”
“And you’re sure it was the church?” Sonatad asked, face weary.
Geela sniffed. “Yes. We stopped in on them briefly and found their skin glowing a deathly gold. Their eyes were burned out. It was light magic.”
Sonatad sunk into his chair, a heavy look to his face. “I’ve caused a terrible chain of events. I must pray for more leadership cause I think I’ve made this situation worse.”
Dammit, Darkos wanted to lord over this but he couldn't. The anger and bitterness towards the church snapped upon hearing Sonatad’s last word warble just a bit.
“Hey, kid,” Darkos started.
“Father.”
“What?”
“I’m— It’s my title, I…” Sonatad waved him off. “Nevermind. Titles aren’t too formal here. You can just call me Sontad too.”
Darkos grinned. “Father. This situation isn’t as bleak as it looks. We have many leads and we’re working with some members inside the academy. Can’t say who, just in case there are people listening in, but we know some people directly involved in this.” He lowered his voice. “You keep working with your outreach group, support your parishioners.” If Lune’s goal was to take out the church, then it would be imperative to keep the spirit and health of the followers up during this whole thing. “ We’re going to do the investigative work. You’ve got to be their pillar here. You have to keep the light shining.” It came a bit easy to him, emphasizing the role of a strong priest, but maybe the reason Alerion’s words had been so honeyed weren’t cause they were inherently evil. It was just repackaged truth.
“Meanwhile,” Geela said, “I want all the information I can get on blood cults.”
“Oh yes, I do have something there.” The priest’s voice was stronger now. “I know you said you had some issues with them and I wanted to be of assistance, since you’re helping me so much.” He jumped to his feet and began leafing through an immaculately sorted file cabinet. “Here you are, ma’am.” He handed Geela a folder of papers, which her eyes drunk over hungrily.
“Wonderful, wonderful.” She immediately sounded distracted as she began to leaf through the papers. “You truly have a chicken in every pot.”
Sonatad opened his mouth to question this, but upon seeing Darkos’s suppressed grin at another botched idiom from Geela, he closed it.
“Alright,” Geela said, placing the folder under her arm. “Drake, we must head out. There’s lots to do, as you mentioned, interviewing the academy folks and such.” Again, she sounded distracted. Darkos knew that, until recently, helping the church had mostly been a ruse to get information about Lune and the blood cults. But now knowing that Lune was involved in the drug trade herself, Darkos had expected Geela to be more interested.
“You want to leave now?” he asked.
“Yes yes. Leave this little acorn to tend to his flock.” She waved a hand. “Come along. We’ll stay in touch, Sonatad.”
And then they were moving again. Darkos’s brain was reeling. He desperately wanted to lock himself away in the bathroom and soak in the tub for an hour as he tried to sort all his thoughts. He just needed the time to figure out if he was, in fact, slated to turn evil and what he could do about it.
He dearly wanted to talk to Geela. He wanted her advice, wanted to ask if she could think of ways to keep him on the straight and narrow. He wanted her to show him how to use void magic in a way that wouldn’t hurt or corrupt but rather heal or help. He wanted her to roll her eyes the way she had when she’d first told him that of course she would help him retrieve his soul.
But he couldn’t. He couldn’t because Geela’s priorities were either in saving him or defeating Noire and making an assumption on which was more important to her would be a dangerous gamble. So he couldn’t confide in her, and as he glanced over at her, that gleam in her eyes as she tore down another thread with that maniacal passion, he felt so so alone.
The weird thing was that holding the secret from Geela felt so much worse than the actual realization. Like Darkos actually almost felt better knowing his heritage. It explained a lot of things he’d wondered, such as how he’d survived Noire’s energy leeching so long, or how he’d managed to astrally project to save the people of Haymaker, or even why he couldn’t sense void magic. And knowing it prepared him better to handle it. All told, this would fill him with a sense of relief…
If it weren’t for Geela. He should be putting his head together with her to hunt down her past students, coming up with schemes or complaining about the church. The moment of sleuthing they’d had at the Jades’ just served as a reminder that there’d always be some kind of barrier between the two now and that, more than anything, made him ache.
The two pit stopped at a small cafe for lunch and Geela laid out her rambling plans in something more coherent. Darkos ordered a veritable mountain of comfort foods from home, anything to boost his mood while his brain fought off his doubts, paranoia, and noodles.
“Gene’s left the city,” Geela said. “Joined the church of Celeste, actually. Little brat. I’m not surprised, though. He needed a leader, something to follow. But he apparently is the mole that’s feeding us all our info. Amy died a few years ago. She was in her 60s so I guess people start to do that. Carlosi and Illisandra are still here though.”
Darkos nodded, cramming his mouth with chicken noodle soup. “Ok, so we’re seeing them?”
“Carlosi is our target.” She sipped her tea, fingers resting elegantly on the china cup. “Gene’s letters from over the years indicates he didn’t think she’d fully repented from her ways.” Geela smirked. “She’ll be pleased to see me, I’m sure.”
“She still practices?” Darkos asked, washing down a mouthful of peanut and fruit sandwich with a glass of chocolate infused milk.
Geela wrinkled her nose, her grip on the mug becoming more delicate in response to Darkos’s barbary. “Of course not. I just don’t think she rejected the old ways. I think she didn’t like how they turned out but she was never the flog herself on the back type. If you gave her a critique, she’d internalize it and spit out improved behavior almost quicker than you’d see possible. But she could only do that because she refused to fully reject her old line of thinking. She improved but she never changed.” She put the tea down and dabbed at her lips. “Still. I think she would know better than to practice the old ways.”
Darkos nodded, swallowing three cookies, each studded with melted chocolate pieces. “Alright. Where’s she live?”
Geela rifled through the paperwork before stopping, reading, and then blinking rather aggressively. “Emerald District? She lives in the goddamned Emerald District? A reformed cultist?” She let out a low whistle. “Well slap my mouth. I suppose she did have the cunning for it.”
“Emerald, that’s like, a snazzy place?” Darkos slurped contemplatively at a glass of apple juice.
“Snazzy.” Geela massaged her temples. “That’s a word for it. You’ll see when we get there.”
Darkos nodded and finished the last item on his plate, a large piece of chocolate cake. “Alright, sounds good.”
Geela flagged down the bill, and the two engaged in their now-routine ritual of her undertipping, him over compensating, her getting angry, and the two compromising on something close to reasonable. Darkos let out a healthy burp as they stood up from the table and bit back a laugh at her woebegone face. His stomach would very likely rebel against the food at some point but for now his brain flooded with good feelings from the homey comfort and he was almost content, just tracking down another lead with Geela like the old days.
They hit the road and traveled a bit longer, grabbing a trip on a hovercart. He’d seen them whistling overhead since they’d arrived but the pair had never had to travel sufficiently out of the main districts to warrant riding one. Now, though, the pair stepped on, with Darkos holding Geela’s hand to keep her stable as the vessel shook slightly under her uneven footing. The cart itself looked like a long sled, the kind that he and his friends used to tote up mountainous peaks in the winter when the slopes were coated with ice.
This time, however, the sleigh rose a few moments after the last customers got on. Darkos insisted they sit on an edge seat, so he could look over, and off they went.
Darkos really did love flying. If he could have his way, he’d just turn into a bird and leave the whole world behind. The wind rustling through his hair, combined with the knowledge that nothing supported them but air and magic, just made his stomach flip with a childlike excitement. Birds didn’t have to worry about Noire. Except for crows, that is. They kinda did.
All too soon, however, the flight over the dazzling city came to a close as the hovercart settled down over a station in the midst of a street of massive houses, all far apart, on magnificent lawns.
It seemed familiar, like a dream or something. Darkos would have previously assumed such luxury could only exist in a dream. The houses sprawled and towered in refined and elegant ways. If they sprouted a turret or a gate or a massive window, the feature seemed to have been designed purely for that house alone. There was nothing overtly tacky. It simply breathed class.
“Did you ever live here, Geela?” Darkos asked. “It seems very you.”
She smiled as the two made their way up the narrow lane. “No. I would very much have liked to but I didn’t make enough on a teacher’s salary. By the time I could have afforded it, well, I was wanted dead or alive in most regions, so it just never materialized. I’m happy for Carlosi, though. She was always so ambitious.”
As they walked, Darkos inhaled deeply, to take in the scent of the green grass. It smelled as though it had been just recently clipped and if he could have just inhaled through his nose for a straight hour, he would have.
However, as the two turned towards a gleaming white manor, a sharp smell polluted the fresh greenery. He took another whiff before identifying it as metallic. But when he tried again, the air was clean again.
The experience filled him with a sense of deja vu but before he could say anything, they’d reached the large door at the front.
“Are we pretending to be Gale and Drake?” Darkos asked.
“Just follow my lead,” Geela said. “Don’t say anything unless I’ve prompted you. And especially don’t say a word about the prophecy.”
With this, she reached out and pulled the long tasseled cord hanging outside the house. Inside, a long bell toned and, almost instantaneously, the doors swung open.
Ooooh, do you think Geela's old student will be happy to see her? Lotta reunions going on this arc!
I'm putting the final touches on my derby project, so thanks for bearing with me on the late releases and such! Be sure to check out the final projects as they roll out (I'll be posting links in my subreddit).
And speaking of which, if you haven't seen the new artwork of Geela, Mistress of Evil costume piece, be sure to check it out. Akoukis is *amazing.*
Have a nice weekend all!

Hi again!
Yesterday I wrote up some thoughts about the SAT Reading section and people seemed to appreciate it, so I thought I follow up with a piece on W&L and then do one for Math soon.
My name is Aaron, and I've been helping students with SATs, ACTs, GREs, GMATs, and other standardized tests for two decades. I hope my experience helps you on your SAT journey and please feel free to ask any questions in the comment below.
Also, I'm organizing a free workshop so you folks can ask whatever questions you have in person. I'm tentatively thinking of trying this Monday, the 3rd starting at 8pm EST. If you're interested, let me know so I can plan.
Okay, on to SAT Writing and Language.
Of the three main sections of the SAT, this section of the test is probably the least technique oriented and most like taking an actual test in school. I won't spend a lot of time here listing all of the rules you need to know because there are already great resources out there. Instead, I'll look at habits I've seen that hold students back on this section, as well as a few tips on specific question types.
BAD HABIT #1 - THINKING YOUR JOB IS TO MAKE THE PASSAGE BETTER.
I have students all the time who won't select the correct answer because "it's not how I would have written it." Just remember it's not your job to edit this passage into something better, it's your job to select the least wrong answer choice from the options provided. When in doubt, try to find bad answers and go from there. (If you read my last post, I push the "find the flaws" thing very had on Reading, but it's also a good way to think about the W&L, and definitely has it's place on Math as well.)
BAD HABIT #2 - NOT ALTERING YOUR TIMING BASED ON THE QUESTION
The W&L has the strangest timing on the test. On Reading, usually you kinda know when a question is hard and most students take more time on those just by instinct. On the Math, questions go in order of difficulty and most students correctly spend more time on individual hard questions (this is a generalization. For more about Math timing, check back next time! tl:dr - most students should be going slower than they currently are on easier questions and faster than they currently are on hard questions, even though they should be spending more time on each hard question than on each easy question.)
Let me give you an example about W&L timing, just using answer choices I'm making up right now.
A) his
B) hers
C) it's
D) theirs
Now another set of answers:
A) therefore
B) thus
C) however
D) moreover
Which question do you think should take more time to do well? Most students will instinctively just kinda spend about the same amount of time on these two questions, even though the second one probably requires a lot more context, and therefore a lot more time to complete. The first question might be easy, medium, or difficult, but you probably won't need a ton of context to answer it. The second one, in contrast, requires at least two sentences of context: the sentence before the conjunction and the sentence after (I'm not going to get into the definition of a sentence or worry about whether I'm using the term correctly because it's not super important for this test. When you teach grammar for a living you can either always worry that you might be making a grammar mistake or just forget it and try to be as clear as possible. I'm in the second camp!)
This is just one example, but being unaware of how you're allocating your time in the W&L is a bad habit I've seen a lot in my students. Don't be afraid to slow down on a question if that question requires time to do the needed work. There is a flipside, spending time staring or philosophizing about questions instead of doing the work needed, so that's good to be aware of, too.
Those are the two biggest habits I see holding students back on W&L, now let's look at some actual content issues that arise a lot.
PUNCTUATION
The SAT tests certain punctuation a lot, and the good news is that some of it is easy to learn if you just take a little time and make yourself do it.
But first, a key distinction when looking at any punctuation question: complete thoughts vs. incomplete thoughts.
A complete thought is something that could stand on it's own without feeling broken, so,
- my dog is brave
and
- despite the early frost, Frank's tomatoes were doing well
are both complete thoughts. If someone came up to you on the street and said that, it might be weird, but the sentence wouldn't feel broken. As opposed to,
- because she is a pit bull
or
- despite the early frost
Both of these are incomplete thoughts because, without anything added, they feel broken. (If you think of these two things as "clauses" and "phrases" that's totally fine, I just don't like to overburden my students to technical terms.)
Okay, got it? Because complete vs. incomplete is THE QUESTION for a lot of punctuation questions, at least the ones that aren't all about commas (commas suck! The stuff I'm about to talk about is easy if you take a minute, but getting a feel for commas can be really tough!)
So here's the deal with strange punctuation like semi-colons, colons, and dashes, at least for the purposes of the SAT. In the real world there are some differences, but for the SAT this is all you need.

1. A SEMICOLON SEPARATES TWO COMPLETE THOUGHTS

My dog is brave; she is a pit bull. CORRECT USAGE
My dog is brave; because she is a pit bull. INCORRECT USAGE (because the second part is incomplete.)
That's it. Never do anything else with a semicolon because on the SAT a semicolon is exactly the same as a period (or a full stop for anyone checking in from across the pond.)
2) A COLON COMES AFTER A COMPLETE THOUGHT, AND COMES BEFORE KINDA ANYTHING.
I have a favorite breed of dog: pit bull. CORRECT USAGE
I have three favorite breeds of dog, such as: pit bull, corgi, dragon. INCORRECT USAGE (because the part before the colon is NOT a complete thought)
People tend to get caught up in what comes after the colon, but on the SAT you only need to test what comes before the colon.
Those are the two big ones. Dashes can also be unfamiliar, so here's what to know.
3) A SINGLE DASH EQUALS A COLON
I have a favorite breed of dog—pit bull. CORRECT USAGE
I have three favorite breeds of dog, such as—pit bull, corgi, dragon. INCORRECT USAGE (because the part before the colon is NOT a complete thought)
4) A DOUBLE DASH EQUALS A DOUBLE COMMA
Ugh, commas. I'll talk about them in a second, but for now, I'll just say that two commas can be used to indicate information that could be taken out of the sentence without breaking it. So,
My favorite breed of dog, pit bull, is known for loyalty and affection. CORRECT USAGE (because if you took out the words "pit bull" the sentence is still a complete thought.)
My favorite breed of dog—pit bull—is known for loyalty and affection. CORRECT USAGE (because double dashes are the same as double commas.)
So there's everything about punctuation! (except for stupid commas.) Spend some time with those facts and really learn it! I give this speech to every student and it usually takes three times for me to teach them semicolons before they get it, which is a shame because semicolons are very easy to test on the SAT!
Okay, commas.
The problem with commas is that it's kind of about feel, which is terrible. But the test that I've found most useful is to read the sentence WITH NO PAUSE and if that's broken, then you need a comma.
An example:
Bob, who likes bananas, is from Uzbekistan.
The second comma is easier to test here, because if I read it WITH NO PAUSE then saying "bananas is from Uzbekistan is clearly broken. The bottom line with commas is that it takes time and practice to get the feel for them.
TWO COMMA TRICKS
DON'T JUST READ WITH A PAUSE TO SEE IF IT SOUNDS GOOD!
I see students do this and the problem is that you can put pauses almost anywhere in a sentence and while it might sound strange, it usually doesn't sound broken. And sounding broken is the way you test for a comma.
FIND A SENTENCE IN THE PASSAGE THAT YOU KNOW HAS A COMMA AND USE THAT TO REMIND YOURSELF WHAT A "PAUSE" FEELS LIKE.
The first thing I do when I reach a question all about commas is find a non-underlined sentence in the passage that contains a comma. I use that to remind myself what a pause feels like, then I test the question I'm working on. That way it's fresh in my mind what I'm doing.
Okay, that's punctuation. Bottom line, learn the rules for semicolons, colons, and dashes! Really! Then try to get a feel for commas by practicing and testing them by reading WITHOUT A PAUSE to see if that breaks the sentence.
NEXT, CONJUNCTIONS/LOGICAL CONNECTORS
Remember the example way up there when I started?
A) therefore
B) thus
C) however
D) moreover
These tend to cause my students a lot of trouble because they try to pick an answer that sounds good instead of testing the meanings of the answer choices. What I recommend is what I call the BOB'S A NICE GUY method.
So what I do is make up a sentence starting with "Bob's a nice guy," then insert an answer choice, then finish the sentence. For example:
Bob's a nice guy, therefore I will ask for his help on my homework.
Now take a second to DEFINE WHAT "THEREFORE" IS DOING IN THIS SENTENCE. In this case, it is showing that the first thing CAUSES the second. Or you could say that it's showing WHY. Great! Now you can go back to the passage and instead of saying "does the answer sound good," you can say, "does the first cause the second?"
And all of the sudden you're testing the answer choice instead of just reacting or sounding your way through it.
I recommend using Bob's a nice guy every time you get to one of these questions.
(Side note: the correct answer above must be either C or D because A and B do the same thing! Try Bob's a nice guy and you'll see that therefore and thus are logically the same. This happens all the time on these kinds of questions which can be a great opportunity to cross off some answers!)
SENTENCE ORDER QUESTIONS ARE ALWAYS HARD!
I'm just going to copy/paste a reply I made to a question from yesterday. If it's not clear, let me know!
On the writing, the sentence order questions are ALWAYS hard. If you were taking the ACT then sometimes they're not that bad, but on the SAT they always fall in the hard category. What I encourage is finding something to latch onto about the sentence in question, something objective and definite. For instance, in test #5, section #2, question #7 the sentence reads
But now 3-D scale models can be rearranged with ease, which is a huge boon to scientists.
What I would latch onto here is the word "But" because that shows that this sentence MUST go in an opposite direction to the previous sentence. So since this sentence is saying that rearrangement is now easier, the previous sentence MUST say that rearrangement used to be difficult. Now, armed with that focus, I can go back to the passage and instead of just saying "what sounds good?" I can ask "which of these sentences says that rearrangement was hard? #4 kinda, sorta works and #5 definitely works because it's more specifically about rearrangement. So on the first pass I might keep both C and D, but then you have to test whether it could go 4, 2, 5 or 4, 5, 2 and it can't go 4, 2, 5 because it doesn't make sense to say "But it's easy now. It used to be hard." So this is a good example because it shows that even if the answer says "after sentence 4" that means it still has to work before sentence 5, too.
LASTLY, W&L TESTS THINGS THAT, IN MY OPINION, A STANDARDIZED TEST SHOULD NOT TEST
There are questions where wrong answers are wrong because they're wordy and awkward and don't actually contain a grammar error. In my opinion, this is an inappropriate thing to test on the SAT, but unfortunately we're stuck with it. Remember, MOST W&L ANSWERS ARE OBJECTIVELY PROVABLE, but there will be a small handful where you have to make a choice based on style.
RULE OF THUMB: pick the shortest answer that is still clear. The SAT knows that when we're confused we like to pick answers that look fancy and use big words so those tend to be wrong.
AND THEN THERE ARE IDIOMS
These really boil my blood, especially when I'm working with students who didn't learn English from the cradle. According to the SAT, only one of the following is allowed:
Bob advocated for CPR training for all citizens.
Bob advocated CPR training for all citizens.
According to the SAT, "advocate" doesn't use a preposition SO THE FIRST EXAMPLE IS WRONG! It's total BS (take a linguistics class, College Board!) but even if it wasn't, this SHOULD NOT BE something tested on this kind of test. Again, unfortunately we're stuck with it. I only bring it up to let you know and to remind you that your job isn't to be super good at writing, it's to follow the stupid, sometimes arbitrary, rules that the SAT has decided to put in their test. They won't test idioms very much, and you never know which ones they might test.
​
Okay, I think that's it for me. This post feels more rambling than the Reading one, probably because W&L is less about one technique change and more about a bunch of little stuff. It's also about practicing and seeing what mistakes you tend to make. Also, I'm sure I forgot some stuff, so feel free to add ask any questions you might have!
And let me know if you're interested in a live, free workshop this Monday the 3rd at 8pm EST and I'll get it organized and nail down the details.
Thanks and good luck on your SAT journey!

Previous: The Assimilation of Ashley Taylor
For the purpose of better understanding certain parts of this section, I would suggest reading through Alina's sections (part 1 and part 2) if you haven't already. It's a lengthy read, but during this analysis, I will be comparing and contrasting Alina and Karin as fellow artists with different perspectives.
Also, the title sounds very mean-spirited, but my intention isn't to bully Karin. She's a sweet girl whose strawberry milk would be protected in my presence.
For a girl who doesn't come off as a major character, Karin Misono actually has a lot going on with her character. At some point while planning this, I thought I'd have to split this into 2 parts, but fortunately, I managed to collect all my thoughts together in a single and, hopefully, easy-to-read post.
I will, however, briefly go over what to anticipate while reading this. In the first part of this section, I'll cover Karin's appearance and discuss the origins of "Trick or Treating" and how Karin's character designer applied that to her. Following that, we will compare and contrast Karin and Alina, and this is where I'll be going back to my section on Alina. Further on in is a brief summary of Karin's MGS, where I will go over certain parts of Karin's personality/justification of her actions, as well as the perspective of "strength" from the views of Alina, Yachiyo, and Kaede + friends. Finally, I'll wrap things up with Karin's Doppel, which bundles all that we've learned together.

This is Halloween

Between being released as part of a Fall event and her general aesthetic/quirks, I'm going to use my detective brain and state that I believe Karin is themed off of Halloween. This intuitive guess is supported by Karin's transformation sequence, which can be taken as that of a girl dressing up for Halloween. The funny part about this is Karin looks a lot like a witch, which are the primary enemies to magical girls. Karin's appearance can be understood at a surface level, but there's also a bit more to take in if we were to dig into the origins of Trick or Treating. The practice is easy enough to understand, young people go door-to-door and demand that they retrieve candy. Upon dissatisfaction, these younguns would then, idealistically, perform mischief on the person who gave them a Heath bar. However, there's is a more interesting origin that also provides some extra clarity on Karin's own mischief.
Trick or Treating originated from the Middle Ages in Britain, where individuals would celebrate "Hallowmas" on November 1st through "Souling" and "Guising". When souling, individuals would walk to different homes and offer to say a prayer to each family. In return, they would receive food from each household the next day on November 2nd on "All Souls Day". Look back at Karin's transformation and you will see that she is praying, potentially referencing the ancient practice celebrated on Hallowmas.
"Guising" then refers to what we know as the main part of our Halloween: dressing up. Difference here is that, during Guising, individuals would specifically dress up as malevolent creatures and spirits and carry lanterns in order to guide actual evil spirits away from a home. As payment, these young people would be gifted cakes and sweets for their efforts. We see that Karin is dressed as a witch, which (ha) put into this context, suddenly makes a bit more sense. Looking at her 5 star card, Karin is surrounded by several purple spirits. She does not carry a lantern, however, her outfit is decked out with several stars (Soulgem) and lights, a recurring symbol of guidance, while her weapon, a scythe, is associated with the entity we know as the Grim Reaper, who guides the departed. It also serves as a nice broom, apparently. The color purple plays a large part in Karin's art as a color that is associated with mystery, magic, and, spiritually, the departure of fulfilled individuals into the realm of the dead.
As a final note here, Karin performs an example of "Souling" through her first interaction with Kaede, where she offers her a Grief Seed in exchange for a, very small, payment of pebbles. Given that Grief Seeds are used to cure the impurities gathered by a Magical Girl, we can interpret Karin's gift as having a similar purpose of praying, which provides one with spiritual healing.

The Artistic Purpose of Alina and Karin

Back in my section on Alina, I went over Alina's purpose and style in the field of art. Although Karin is also an artist, it is important to note that, much like real individuals within that profession, the two have wildly different forms of expression. Both are very creative girls, and, in Alina's case, she has a mastery of art that is praised by peers and professional appraisers alike. While her interests are morbid, Alina is very practical, and when presented a copy of Karin's manga, it took her awhile to comprehend the art and writing style. Karin, on the other hand, doesn't follow the same conventions as Alina, as seen in the drawings that appear at the start of her MGS. The way she draws other girls in a way that focuses more on an abstract and comical form of expression.
Looking back at Alina, we saw her in a slump after being heavily criticized for lacking a true purpose with her art, despite having the skill to attract many fans. Karin, while talented in her own right, is only modestly so. She isn't famous like Alina, but draws and enjoys manga as a way to express her thoughts and reach out to others. Alina and Karin's purpose as artists are metaphorically used in their stories as a means to represent their struggles that we see in their respective stories. In Karin's case, Magical Girl Kirin represents the persona Karin aspires to be and the source of justification for her weakness, but also strength and ability.

A Thief's Honor

During Karin's MGS, we learn that she is fairly weak magical girl. Having been beaten down by witches, Karin resigns herself to stealing Grief Seeds in order to survive. These events are what set Karin's perspective that her actions are just when they are used to help the weak. This dilemma is present in the stories of Robin Hood, who steals from the rich and gives to the poor, and for those who have played Persona 5, one of the major themes around the story was the justness of the Phantom Thieves, who were regarded as powerful figures representing the weak by some, but a band of vigilantes without any concept of due process by some others.
Stealing, in of itself, is viewed as wrong, but things get less clear when we consider specific scenarios. How incorrect is a person who loots as a desperate means of survival? Is equity an acceptable substitute in place of equality? Is Karin following what she truly believes, or are her thoughts a product of rationalization? Karin targets Yachiyo as a lonely girl who is independent at dealing with witches and gives to Kaede whom she regards as "pitiful". There is, of course, several issues with Karin's line of thinking, most particularly that, even though Yachiyo is very capable of defeating witches, she is not much less vulnerable to succumbing to defeat or despair. The dangers related to being a magical girl are the most unpredictable, and even if a girl is a strong fighter, they may encounter a witch with unpredictable abilities or, as we know of Yachiyo, suffer from trauma that leads to their Soulgems becoming tainted. Without any justification, Karin is just a thief, albeit one who is more misguided than malicious.

Perspectives of Good-Will and Strength

After getting caught by the very sly Yachiyo, Karin narrowly avoids getting a spanking from Mama Yachiyo for admitting to her actions and being well-intended. Yachiyo then states that Karin should learn to fight on her own to earn grief seeds that she could then use to support girls who are in need. As mentioned above, stealing should never be an alternative over one's own work and effort.
Fast-forward a bit to the next day, we see Alina critiquing Karin's work, being impressed by the main character's authenticity and will to improve herself. At this point, it is clear that this sub-plot in Karin's MGS actually ties into the main portion of her background, with the protagonist representing Karin, herself. For how insane and cruel Alina can be, she actually makes a good critic of Karin. Just as Karin is able to truly understand Alina, as we saw in her MGS, Alina recognizes Karin's dilemma as being parallel to her own, where her pursuit of self-improvement led to enlightenment and forward motion with her character.
This then takes us to Kaede, who is part of a group dynamic. As we can remember with her, Momoko, and Rena, the three girls are at their strongest when they are working together and able to cover each other's flaws. Not having a need for the Grief Seed stole from Yachiyo, she uses it on Karin before introducing her to Momoko and Rena. Karin is then allowed to join the trio, where they defeat a witch, and that's that! Karin finally solved her dilemma and no longer needs to steal to survive.
...is how this would have ended in any happy-go-lucky story. Here's the thing: while it is completely viable and healthy to form a team of magical girls to survive, survival wasn't the core issue Karin was facing, so much as discovering her own identity. By joining up with Kaede and gang, Karin now has the means to survive at the cost of stagnation when it comes to finding her own independence and strength. As Karin is represented by the character she writes in her stories, Alina becomes upset at her resignation, as her comfort sacrifices her individuality and personal beliefs. And thus, another carton of strawberry milk was sacrificed to Alina.

The Apple that Didn't Fall Far From the Tree

Karin idolizes her grandmother, being a woman who shared similar hobbies, but also experienced many hardships. However, Grandma Misono has 1 major issue: she suffers from kleptomania, or the intense and habitual urge to steal. As of now, kleptomania cannot be cured, rather, only mitigated through forms of repeated therapy. It should be noted that afflicted individuals are not malicious, and their stealing usually lacks motives related to personal gain, being founded solely on impulse.
During a conversation, we see Karin's mom completely fed up with grandma, stating that she is "trouble", however, Karin notes that she sees the good in her rolemodel and continues to spend time with her despite being discouraged. Going back to Hallowmas, Karin's wish resembles that of Souling and Guising, where she desired to "exorcise" her grandmother's personal demons.
As we know by now, wishes work in mysterious ways, so Karin's ability is ironic considering that she gained the power to steal by curing her grandmother's impulsiveness to steal. What's special, in this case, is that such a power can be wielded and put to good use. It is a power that is unique to Karin, who, with her creative nature as an artist, infuses her magic into pebbles and stones a witch to death. Karin's self-discovery would be represented by her protagonist who not only earns respect, but strawberry milk from Alina.
Simultaneously earning the strength to death witches, Karin has also lived up to the persona she aspired to be throughout her entire story.

Sean Con-- "McDougal", the Doppel of Larceny

The master of this Doppel is cowardly by nature, which is why she gave birth to this stubborn Doppel. It fears losing anything and is fixated on obtaining more. It shares it's proclivity for thievery with its master, and will pilfer anything it can get its hands on, even if those items belong to an ally. This Doppel is extremely greedy and refuses to give up on anything once it has it in its possession.

Karin's Doppel is...rather surprising, being a reference to an American film. Looking around, there were 2 notable McDougal that stuck out, one being an adult entertainer, who...I'm about 99% sure we can rule out, and the other being a famous thief portrayed by Sean Connery in the 1999 film Entrapment. McDougal was a notorious larcenist who planned to steal a valuable art-piece from a well-guarded museum. Along with McDougal was his partner, Gin, also a professional thief, the two sharing a similar dynamic as Alina and Karin as masters in their field. A recurring theme with McDougal was his tendency to steal indiscriminately, regardless of if you were his partner in crime or a random stranger.
The name of the movie was referenced in this scene where McDougal corrects Gin's definition of "entrapment" as being "something that comes to thieves". In the opening part of Karin's Doppel animation, we see what resembles a grappling hook (a tool famous for being used by thieves) manifest from Karin's finger (hence the idiom "sticky fingers", which refers to one who habitually steals), dragging down a type of cage that seemingly traps Karin. This could be a cheeky reference to this particular scene.
The cage is, more specifically, a mortsafe, devices that were invented as a means to prevent graverobbing. This was a major part of the early 19th century, where authorities didn't enforce the act, as some graverobbers included individuals who used stolen bodies as a means to advance science/medical discoveries. This justification resembles that of Karin stealing Grief Seeds, as the act was for a "good" cause.
Given the wheels on the back of McDougal's cage, the Doppel also resembles a chariot. This could be a reference to the Greek myth of Phaethon, who stole Helios's flaming chariot, which...didn't at all end well for him. Lacking the size of his father, Phaethon would lose control of the horse-drawn chariot, which threatened the Earth with sudden and rapid changes of intense burning and freezing. As a way to salvage the planet, Zeus struck the chariot down, causing the burning remains of the vehicle and Phaethon to crash down on the Earth. Representing this event, MacDougal sends down a hail of hand-drawn, flaming chariot wheels on its targets.
As stated in the description, Karin's Doppel is very greedy, to the point where it snags its name tag. This nature contrasts Karin's cowardice (hinted when she avoided trying to steal from Nanaka due to her being strong and in a group), in that it is incessant with the lengths it will go to to grab whatever it sets its eyes upon.
On an ending note, I always found it funny how Karin is constantly a victim of having her strawberry milk stolen from her by Alina.
Up next is The Duality of Nanaka, and following her is The Cover of Kako. I'll likely rapid-fire these 2 out this Sunday, as I'll likely be occupied farming the Summer event in FGO when it starts on Monday. After that, I'll continue on with Nanaka's group with Meiyui, finishing up with Akira.
I'm at the point with Rika where I feel comfortable enough to do her section after Nanaka's group, although I'm kicking myself a bit for not holding off on posting Ren's section so the two will be closer together, as their stories connect with one another.

Doctor Jeldia Nylin, she was an expert researcher of healing spell scripture at the Medical Thaumaturgic Academy in Byrland and won a Nobyll Scholar Sigil for the theory of relative astral-spiritual phenomenon.
An elf who originated from the East coast of Scuimera, she wasn't used to the densely populated city of Avaldron, the city elves are usually loud and seemingly constantly busy, with carriages and unicorn occasionally populating the street day and night.
The street lanterns on the night also didn't help her, Jeldia likes to observe the stars- it was her childhood hobby that seemed to never grow out of her.
It never occurred to her that one day she would be a part of secret international organisation studying anomalies and other supernatural entities, objects, location and events.
The EPC Foundation, stands for Elven Paranormal Containment. A secret international organizations that is responsible for containing and understanding the non-magical phenomenon, entities, events or objects exist in this world. They are responsible for keeping away these anomalies within the public eyes.
As a Level 3 Clearance Researcher she had seen countless anomalies in her life, all of which no normal elves could comprehend.
These anomalies defy the natural laws of mystic and sorcery, seemingly breaking the three laws of thaumaturgic elemental force of the universe.
As of currently, Jeldia found herself studying and recording a peculiar anomaly; Physics-145.
She sat on her chair, reading through the files and documents to get an idea of what she's dealing with.
---

Item #: Physic-145
Object Class: Stagnant
Special Containment Procedure: Physic-145 is to be kept in a secure 3 by 3 unit adamantine room alloyed with reinforced mithril.
Description: Physic-145 is a flat, rectangular object made of unknown metal with dark glass covering one side of its flat surface. It has a noticeable black circular structure on both sides of its flat surface, resembling an insectoid eye. However the elemental composition of the 'eye' is not organic in nature. Object had two, flat protrusion on the left side from the glass surface and a single protrusion on the right side.
Upon pressing the protrusion on the right side of Physic-145, it emit low level phantamagnetic mystic wave ranging from visible light spectrum to EV (Enchanted Violet) spectrum similar to those of the sun.
On the glass panel, a strange animated image will be displayed, similar to a magic mirror. The display ranges from a green meadow, snowy mountains, desert and a beach. So far, understanding and decrypting the message behind the image is met with failure.
When the glass surface is swept upward by a finger, it will display another image, showing a black space with multitudes of small squares scattered evenly on the glass surface accompanied with the presence of tiny animated glyphs at the above edge of the object. (Few of this glyphs can be described as unknown unidentified sigil at the top left corner, a right angled triangle, a one-third of a circle and the top right corner is simply a rectangle with the same unidentified sigil.)
These squares are designated as Physic-145-2 codename "apps" (see Addendum Physic-145-2 below).

---
Jeldia paused, she didn't read the rest. Placing the document back amongst the others.
Even after all these years she still had to consciously memorize all the object class and what it meant.
Stagnant: Physic that is easy to contain and is predictable
Active: Physic that is difficult to contain but does not require complex containment procedure and is predictable
Hazard: Physic that require complex containment procedure or it is difficult to contain, and it is unpredictable
There are few other classes as well, but Jeldia reminds herself that she just needs to remember three.
Life within the Foundation is difficult, they had to deal with a huge deal of anomalous entities and objects, most of which are highly dangerous.
For example, they had within Site-16 a techno weapon that uses some sort of scientific phenomenon that can propel metallic projectiles faster than sound at an insane rate, and it could pierce through 1.2 minor-unit thick mithril armor easily.
Jeldia had seen the weapon capable of penetrating through Tier 3 magical barrier in under 30 seconds.
As far as she understands, the weapon uses some sort of unknown alchemy manipulation to force air pressure and create an anomalous tiny explosion, expelling some sort of unidentified metallic projectile several hundred meters away.
Jeldia never knew where they found the weapon but her colleagues had explained to her that the weapon, or they now call Physic-2105, was taken from some crazy cultists group called the Church of Cyberpunk.
Three years ago, she thought cybertechnology was some fictional bullshit- but now here she is, working with a Foundation that deals with world ending objects daily.
"Jeldia?" A voice calls out behind her, Jeldia spun her head to see a man of dark elven decent. He had a very lean and athletic body for a mere researcher, and always had a clipboard in his hand. "What are you doing?"
"Trying to understand 145, I am making a full documented file of each and every one of these... 'apps'. Y'know the standard stuff- it's purpose, capabilities, anomalies... yadda, yadda," the female high elf turned her head and noticed the bag on his eyes. "You look like crap Mervene, whatcha been up to?"
Mervene sat beside her and sighed, rubbing his temples in frustration, "Dr. Tagra is in the medical room, they've been trying to calm him with healing spells. You should look at his face. His eyes.... I don't know how to explain"
Jeldia glanced in shock, "what happened?"
"Cognitohazard," Mervene explained. "Some sort of image-based Physic. It's a box containing at least 26 pictures, Tagra said the picture look real, too real for a mere spell paint- like it was an image captured from a real, physical world and placed in a flat surface-"
"Photography," Jeldia muttered.
"Huh?"
The female elf leaned to her chair, "I studied the scientific terminology, I- I think it's called photography. It captured something called 'photon' and somehow... these 'photon' are transferred to a paper? I- I still don't understand much, there's an entire research group trying to translate the Book of Science. You know, the one they took from that weird interdimensional door thing."
"You learn about... science?" Mervene blinked.
"Hey, we've seen weird stuff in here. not everything works in the principles of magic Merv-" Jeldia paused. "Whatever, I want to know what Tadra saw in that picture."
Mervene exhaled, "I dunno- he didn't tell me, but he did mention something about 'cursed image' and 'rule 34'. The Foundation had raised the security containment protocol of that Physic, no-one can see it now. Which is good, I suppose."
Jeldia hummed, "it's always like this huh?"
"What do you mean?"
Jeldia tapped the table, "I mean at any day in our life, we could encounter something beyond us and everyone would die. How many world ending anomalies have we kept on this site alone?"
Mervene paused, before he scratched his chin, "I... dunno, I feel... Kind of glad actually. It is a privilege to know these things exist, imagine living a life ignorant of these anomalies, at least we knew that shit like this exists. It kinda takes me back to the childhood wonder and intrigue, even if it means some kind of horrible eldritch monstrosity."
Suddenly a bird arrived at Jeldia, and landed on her shoulder, the high elf's eyes widened, "oh shit! It's a message from the Primary Council."
Mervene blinked, "might want to pick that up."
Jeldia pressed her hand on the bird before it turned into a puff of cloud and a scroll emerged. She grabbed the scroll and waited for the magical circle to glow.
"This is a message of the Primary Council, please invoke authorized spell security access," the scroll written itself before displaying animated of ink movements, following the circular formation of spell structure.
Jeldia breathed slowly as she placed her thumb on the center of the circle and will the mana within her to travel from her body to the scroll.
"Mana flow detected, Dr. Nylin confirmed. Accessing file A-2," the writhing ink within the scroll moved and slithered from the surface of the paper. Slowly, written letters manifested on the paper.
Jeldia cursed, "damnit."
"What?"
She placed down the scroll, rolled it, as it turned back into a bird and flew away, "I need to go to Quarter 16."
Mervene blinked, "why?"
"Physic-661," Jeldia exclaimed before leaving. "We'll meet later!" She yelled as her figure slips to a corner of a hallway.
The flickering fae lantern hung above the wall, casting shadow below Mervene's figure. "Damnit, that was my only moment to talk to her."
Jeldia carried her legs to Quarter 16. It is small compared to the other quarters and only contained one Physic, she had an experience with it before and had known the protocol to deal with the entity.
"Dr. Nylin?" A Foundation agent approaches, clad in standard black mithril armor. In his hilt is an enchanted sword and a wand, "I hope we didn't disturb your personal moment?"
Jeldia gasped for air, before she looked up. "Yeah, I was compiling information for 145."
"I'm sure the paperwork can wait," the agent stated nonchalantly. "Let's begin your interview with 661."
Jeldia grunted, "can't I just take a breath?"
"We have no time," the agent ushered.
She sighed before heading toward a room, the door is locked with bane spell, specialised magical structure constructed by the most talented of enchanter and blacksmith.
As she walked toward a chair, it is facing against a glass wall.
Behind the wall is a man, clad in strange garb- 'tuxedo' he calls it. One would have thought that the person before her is an elf with strangely cute ear deformity, it is round instead of pointed like a normal elf. The man is handsome, unnaturally so- his body is slender, but the magical appraisal tool had revealed his muscle and bone to be several times denser than those of an elf. His blood contain a few unknown alchemical elements that is extremely corrosive to the skin. All form of appraisal spell and magic is yet to identify the nature of 661's blood.
"661," Jeldia said. "How are you?"
The humanoid entity glanced at her and smiled, "fine. Although I could have used a bit of freedom," he glanced at the guard beside her, staring at the wand briefly before glancing back at Jeldia.
The elf recalled back regarding the information of Physic-661, re-reading the documents of the anomaly.
---

Item #: Physic-661
Object Class: Active
Special Containment Procedure: Physic-661 is to be kept within a standard elvenoid containment cell and are to be given literature material in a specialised translated language (see Linguistic-001).
The containment cell of Physic-661 is to be constantly showered with high level magical energy and the wall is to be inscribed with concentrated defensive enchantment.
Description: Physic-661 is an elvenoid entity that resembles those of an average 20 years old, light elf male. Except for the round, curved ears.
Despite its slender body built, 661's muscle and bone density is several times those of an average elf.
Physic-661 is completely immune to all forms of spell whether it be physically or mentally, displaying the ability to be completely unphased by a direct blast from a Tier 6 super enhanced magic bolt simultaneously resisting sleep and paralysis spell.
Physic-661 however is susceptible to physical harm but shown to be able to heal from what can be considered lethal wounds without the assistance of healing magic in matter of days. Its blood is also extremely corrosive to all living magical creature, capable of melting 20 uryls (elven weight unit, equivalent to 20 grams) of manticore under 2 seconds.
The presence of 661 acted as a form of 'anti-magic', capable of distorting the fabric of reality by deteriorating the mystical structure of the astral plane.
---

Jeldia sighed, "let's start off with a question okay?"
"Hmm," the strange elf-thing rubbed his chin. "What kind?"
"The kind that we get to know you better," Jeldia stated.
The Physic shrugged, "yeah, sure. It is boring to not be able to talk with anyone here," he looked straight to her eyes and smirked, "at least I get to talk with cute elf."
Jeldia blushed before pushing the thought away from her mind. She should not have any attachments to these anomalies. "First of all.. what are you?"
The elf-thing tilt his head, "human."
She write down the answer, "next question, where do you come from?"
The 'human' leaned to his chair, humming. "From another dimension."
Jeldia blinked, "huh."
"What? You don't believe me?" The human yawned before stretching himself.
Jeldia shook her head, "no... it's just... all the others that we've been talking to are quite... cryptic."
The human shrugged, "I don't like beating around the bush. If that idiom is unfamiliar, it means 'to deviate from the main topic of conversation'."
For an entity that is capable of destroying the fabric of magical structure, it is quite a chill (if not quite annoying) person to talk to. "Can you explain which dimension you came from?"
The entity smiled, "it's a long story pal."
"I can wait."
He looked at the guards and smirked, "okay then. Do you know about the Theory of Layered Cosmic Dimensional Bubble?"
Jeldia blinked, "... the what?"
The human smiled, "you haven't. That explains."
"What do you mean?"
"I am from a world called earth- at least, it was my homeworld."
Jeldia glanced at the guard before shifting her gaze back at Physic-661, "was?"
"We humans had over hundreds, if not thousands of worlds under our control," the human fiddled with his fingers. "If you want to know more, you should ask that outdated smartphone with you."
Jeldia perked her ears, "smartphone?"
The human squint before chuckling, "oh sorry.. what was it? 450? 145? The flat rectangle that glow when you press the button-"
Jeldia's eyes widened, "Physic-145!?" Her heart beat faster, all the pre written interview abandoned. "Y- you know about Physic-145?"
The human quirked his eyebrow. "I know most of the stuff you got here," he stated.
"...what?" Jeldia muttered, trying to keep herself calm, and salvage to every sense of serenity she can, within her. "Who are you?"
The elf-thing slightly smirked, before he grinned. "Call me Mr. Game. Just Mr. Game."
A/N
(This is my first entry in HFY after three years lurking within the shadows and upvoting others)
(As you can tell, this one is heavily inspired by the SCP Foundation.)
(I would like to hear some constructive criticism, I know I'm still a novice and I know this is not perfect but please tell me any of the imperfections you've seen in this story)
Next`

[[First](https://www.reddit.com/HFY/comments/fd5v0e/elven_paranormal_containment_foundation/]
There was only flames, flames everywhere.
The soaring heat that melts your skin, it burns your eyes as you gaze upon it.
The fire was bright reddish orange hue, burning everything in its path.
He can hear screams, cries and pleas of desperate people.
People who were clueless, who had families, who just wanted to spend their life in a happy mundane existence- unaware of the chaotic eldritch monstrosity hidden behind the veil of the universe.
Lucreon stood a few hundred units away from the carnage, his eyes gazed at the towering wall of pure inferno.
They had tried everything, water spell, smog magic, wind magic, even ice spell- the flame only recoiled for a flicker of a moment before it spread again, seemingly more angry than before.
Back then, he didn't know what it was- to him, it is just another anomaly to be captured. Nothing too out of the ordinary, just a man with a mission.
The smoke was equally dangerous if not more than the fire, it burns through their lungs and cursed their internal organs with failure, whilst remaining invisible.
The fire lasted for days, with the Foundation desperate, keeping it away from the public eyes. In the end, they ended up sacrificing an entire town to cover the incident, Lucreon watched as they massacred the entire townspeople- all in the name of the greater good. Blasting the entire area with large ice magic, utilising ice dragons and water wyvern to increase the effect.
Sometimes he wondered which one was more of a monster.
The scary eldritch beings in the Foundation, or himself.
---
Lucreon woke up. Feeling worse than before, he had had twenty bottles of alcohol which is clearly against the protocol and it gave him a massive hangover.
He struggled to push himself up, wincing as rays of sunlight protrude from the gaps between the curtains.
With a heavy step, Lucreon carried himself to the bathroom. Grabbed a magical ring and use it to produce water spell and wash his face.
"Agent Sword?" A knock on the door followed by a voice, Lucreon grunted.
Grabbing his leather jacket he slowly made his way towards the door, only to find the Site Director of Site-16 emerging from behind the door.
"Director Eryllia?" He muttered, surprised to see a high ranking staff member within MTF quarters. "What are you doing here?"
The Director smiled, a presence of authority quite heavy around the woman. "You'll be given a new mission."
Lucreon grunted, "yeah… of course." He had seen that coming.
The Director grabbed a mithril box and handed it over to Lucreon, "an anomaly has been discovered at the town of Dovonyt."
Lucreon quirked an eyebrow, "what happened to our previous mission?" He didn't take the box, leaving the Director awkwardly extending it towards him.
"We will let Teratron-5 take over," the Director replied. "This newly discovered anomaly may have been related to a GoI (Group of Interest), Peculiar Trading Partnership. This recent investigation was leaked by our spy to be one of their trading operations."
"Teratron-5?" Lucreon muttered. "You mean to say that they will be handling containment of the anomalies?"
The Site Director quirked an eyebrow of her own, "is there any problem?"
The team leader of Aragon-16 hesitated, "I thought their only purpose was for re-containment missions?"
"Technically speaking, the Physic is already initially 'contained'," the Site Director exclaimed. "But since it is not an official and complete containment, we need to deploy a much more suitable MTF squad for such a dangerous mission."
Lucreon sighed, tugging the collar of his coat. "So what do you want me to do now?"
"There is suspected activity from Peculiar Trading Partner merchants in Ulryon, a possible hidden trading operations that sells and auction anomalies."
The MTF leader nodded, "Okay I assume you want my team to infiltrate and gather information on their trading operations?"
"That will not be necessary," the Director muttered, still smiling calmly.
Lucreon tilted his head, noticing the strangeness of the mission. Never before had the Foundation refused the offer to take down another GoI that was viewed as a threat to their mission. "I'm… confused."
"Yes, as you probably should be." She continued, still not telling him the purpose of her arrival. "Can I get in?"
"Uhh… my place is kinda crappy," Lucreon replied, staring at the Director, still trying to understand the situation he was in right now. "But feel free to enter, I guess."
The Director stepped inside, her heel reverberated a soft echo as it made contact with the wooden floor. She closed the door behind her, glancing around the room, examining every corner of the interior design.
"We have discovered a rather… interesting Physic within the hands of the Peculiar Trading Partnership, a new anomaly," the Director explained.
Lucreon ambled toward a stool and sat before he grabbed a bottle and poured into his glass. "Want some?" He gestured at the wineglass.
The woman shook her head, slowly pacing herself around the room. "I'm not an alcoholic Agent Sword."
The MTF leader sipped the drink before he belched, slamming the wineglass on his desk. "Now, clearly something is up. You didn't ask me to capture and interfere with another GoI, you are telling me about some other Physic without mentioning a containment procedure, and you're acting a little too extra secretive. I've been in the MTF for six years ma,am, just release the bee already¹."
The Director sat before Lucreon, crossing her legs. The male elf wouldn't lie and say that the woman wasn't dangerously tempting. She grabbed a clear glass of water and sipped it. "What I am about to tell you is strictly confidential."
Lucreon paused, before he glanced around and leaned closer. "Okay, you got me hooked- what is it?"
The woman chuckled, "I must warn you, once you've heard it, consider yourself in. Unless you want to experience what an amnestic spell could do?"
The MTF leader shrugged, "I've been hit by an amnestic before ma'am. Most missions I do are strictly confidential, my brain has been messed with more times than I can count. This isn't any different."
The Director smiled, "very well then. Listen closely."
Location: Site-16, Physic-661 Containment Cell
"You again," Mr. Game state, staring at the female elf who stood before him.
"Yes," Jeldia answered, preparing for the worst. "Me again."
"Oh, hi then." The human simply said, with a slight tone of cynicism. "Let me guess, another Q&A?"
Jeldia sat down on the chair located in front of the glass wall, now with a provided desk. "I hope you are ready," Jeldia said with a neutral tone, trying to keep her professionalism.
Fortunately for her, it seemed like the human was too exhausted to bother with a snappy reply and simply grunted. "Just get on with it."
She grabbed her bag and pulled out a sheaf of papers, scanning through each file before presenting it on the desk. "First, I wanted to ask you my own personal questions."
Mr. Game arched his eyebrow but did not reply, he tapped his thumbs together, a clear sign of boredom.
"When we take samples of your blood, we notice that it shares a similar traits with 4000," Jeldia said.
The human glanced at her, slightly intrigued. "I'm pretty sure my blood is not made out of synthetic, carbon-fiber cell."
Jeldia ignored all the incomprehensible words and continued with her questions. "We noticed that there is a presence of a strange super small metallic insect that within your body, that seems to share similarity with Dr. Crystal, 4000 and the former neutralized 900. Care to explain?"
"How the fuck did you guys see microorganism without even knowing the concept of microbiology?" Mr. Game stated, genuinely curious.
"There is an anomaly in this Site that helped us with that," Jeldia responded, trying to appease the human, even if it meant sacrificing her ego.
She had read the roughly translated Book of Science to understand the basic concepts of microscopic organisms. It still unnerved her, after they discovered that there were more than a trillion tiny creatures crawling on their skin.
It had practically caused mass panic over the entirety of the Foundation. But after a few basic tests, it is became aware that these 'microbes' were mostly harmless in nature. And few the that were harmful were the apparent causes of diseases and curses they had experienced since the dawn of their civilization.
Any attempt to contain the group of microscopic entities- now designated as Physic-4001- was currently impossible and thus it was classified as 'Hazard'.
The human hummed to himself, "nanites."
"Na- what?" Jeldia leaned.
The human grunted, "Nanites. Small 'creatures' that help the tissue regrow and heal itself faster. Mine is an older model so it isn't as effective as 4000's industrial model and that discount Dr. Bright's military grade version." He then frowned, "I really hope you understand what cellular structures means."
Jeldia blinked, "Yes?" She lied through her teeth.
Whatever, the Council could figure that one out. "Okay, now that question is answered, I will proceed to the next one."
"Don't need to narrate everything you do miss," the human said.
Jeldia frowned, feeling slightly irked towards the human. "It is 'doctor' to you."
"Please proceed to your next question Dr. Nylin," a voice said from the speaker, which wasnjust a cone-shaped funnel that was connected via a pipe to another room, in which a person spoke through a hole and the voice carried itself from the pipe to the funnel.
Jeldia snapped her mouth shut and grabbed a piece of documentation. "Previously, when Dr. Ordrin was asking you questions about 707, you mentioned it to be an anomalous shark, is it correct?"
"I was being sarcastic," the human answered bluntly.
"And I am not surprised," Jeldia replied.
"Dr. Nylin," the intercom warned of her professionalism.
Jeldia slowly exhaled, "When we were conducting an experiment with 707, it seemed to have projected a high concentration of non-mystical energy waves. These energy waves do not seem to cause any other effect than disrupting the flight pattern of our twitter birds."
"I'm listening," the human said, although his eyes were solely focused on his nails.
"At exactly 6.50 P.D (Post-Dawn), Physic-707 projects these unknown non-mystical energy waves toward… the sky. Care to explain?"
Mr. Game shifted himself from his seated position, "First of all I need to understand, is your world's timezone exactly 24 hours a day and 7 days a week?"
"Yes… why?" Jeldia concentrated herself, readying her ink pen to write down the answer.
The human shrugged, "Nothing. Just curious."
Jeldia frowned, "Now that I answered your question can you-"
"It is an electromagnetic wave," the human interrupted. "It's called electromagnetic wave. The 'non-mystical' energy you referred to."
Jeldia quickly scribbled down her notes. "What is this… 'electromagnetic' wave?
Mr. Game groaned, "I don't gain anything from wasting my breath to explain to you knife-ears about electromagnetism. But," he lifted a finger. "since I am bored as fuck, listen closely because I won't repeat myself."
Jeldia quickly flipped the paper. "I'm ready-"
"Electromagnetic waves, to put it simply, are a form of 'energy' that exists in a state of 'reality' that does not belong to your dimension. It is the fundamental force of univer- of science. Literally the existence of… 'quantum' particles is based on electromagnetism."
Jeldia wrote it all as quickly as she could, ignoring the fact that she didn't understand some of the words spat out from the human's mouth.
"If I were to hazard a guess, that submarine has probably found a satellite or something- I dunno, not my problem."
Jeldia paused, looking back at the human. "Submarine?"
The human did not respond but instead whistled in his cell, with his body on the floor and hands behind his head. "That's it for my TED talk. You are lucky that I am considerably bored today."
"Not even an explanation of this… quantum stuff you just mentioned?" Jeldia muttered.
"Not unless you all have anything to give me," the human replied. "Being trapped in this glass box might be the reason why I'm fucking grumpy."
Jeldia frowned, "I think you were an asshole since you were born."
Mr. Game stood up, pushing himself off the ground- for a second, Jeldia thought she had angered the human, but the smirk on his face suggested otherwise. "I was not 'born' elfy, you should go look up about lab grown lifeforms. Go ask 145 if you have questions."
Jeldia rubbed her forehead, "We… we don't understand how to operate 145."
The human laid down again, "Huh… too bad."
Jeldia struggled to keep the frustration within her from manifesting. "Are you seriously not cooperating with me now?"
There was no answer, just silence as he lay down on the floor, cross-legged, humming to himself. Jeldia grunt, staring at the other glass at the other side of the wall. There were multiple men and women in fancy sorcerers' suit, conversing amongst themselves. Jeldia glanced back at the human, "what do you want?"
That seems to provoke a response from the human as he lifted his head, "Uhhh… is this a trick question?"
Jeldia slowly exhaled, "What. Do. You. Want?" Emphasizing each and every words, her eyes glaring at the human.
He simply stared before chuckling, "What would you say if I want you?"
Without a second thought, Jeldia responded. "Deal."
That earned a shock from not just all the Foundation personnel in the other room but also the human, who seemed speechless. A new reaction that she'd never seen from the human. "I… I was joking," he seemed quite lost for words.
For a moment she took pride in the small victory, never before had she seen the human so flabbergasted.
Then the realization dawned upon her, as blood rushed to her cheek, she struggled for an appropriate response. "I… was also joking," she quickly replied, feeling dreadful as a dozen pairs of eyes glared at her. "But we can organise something else?"
The human glanced at the otherside of the wall, where silhouettes of people stood behind the thick glass, "Can we?" He repeated the question, but it was directed to the people behind the glass.
There was a pregnant silence, and a very tense one at that. It was a full two minutes before a reply came in, "Yes we can, as long as it is reasonable."
"I demand at least 4 days to be outside of the Foundation. Just take me anywhere private, somewhere I can enjoy myself. I don't care if you people set a spy on me or monitor my every movement, I want at least some form of freedom."
"I'm afraid we cannot do that," the announcer spoke.
Mr. Game frowned, "then I'm afraid I can't help you either."
"Is there nothing else you'd prefer?" The announcer tried to negotiate with him.
The human groaned, "Not really. Unless you want to give me a girlfriend, I don't know about you elves but we humans need social interaction to stay sane." Before the announcer could reply, Mr. Game continued, "but… I hate a forced relationship and I certainly don't think any elves here can survive being anywhere near me, let alone me nutting in them." His eyes glared at the glass wall, "so I demand to talk to a D-Class."
They were certainly alarmed, but not entirely rejecting of the proposal. "A D-Class, 661?"
The human crossed his arms and tapped his feet, "Yes, a D-Class. 20 to 25 years of age, mentally stable, non aggressive and have a past record of being abused."
The rest of the elves discussed amongst each other, thinking hard of all the pros and cons of the proposal. "That can be done."
The human smiled, "Deal then. We can continue this tomorrow, after I get my end of the deal."
The announcer seemed pretty reluctant, but agreed nonetheless, "Very well. We will delay this interview until tomorrow."
Jeldia groaned in frustration, packing all her paperwork back into her bag. "Dear Goddess, I hope you talk tomorrow. I don't have the mood for anymore of this."
The human smirked, "Oh trust me, neither do I."
Location: Site-7
---

Item #: Physic-5000
Object Class: Active
Special Containment Procedure: The local area of Ricky's mineshaft at [REDACTED] is to be secured by a Level 3 Security Guards, and all pathways leading to the mineshaft are to be blocked and rerouted.
Any personnel who entered the mineshaft and haven't returned after 8 hours are to be considered compromised and no attempt of rescue shall be made.
The entrance to the mineshaft itself is to be blocked by a Tier 3 warding spell, with at least a Tier 2 anti-personnel paralysis spell that is to be regulated every week.
Description: Physic-5000 is a group of small, [13.4 minor-unit in diameter and 6.3 minor-unit in height] cylindrical creatures made of various unidentified metals and other material of unknown nature.
It has a strange knife-like protrusion above its head, believed to be its main claw used to stab and attack its prey.
Initially, Physic-5000 was believed to slither itself on the ground similar to a snake or snail but it was later discovered that the entity had a pair of wheels beneath its body for mobility.
Physic-5000 has a suction-like mouth underneath its body that is capable of absorbing all form of small particles, ranging from dust to liquid [most notably, blood].
Addendum-1
Vivisection of Physic-5000 revealed a complex organ structure of unknown design, [Further research required].
The knife-like claw of Physic-5000 seems to be made out of anti-magical metal [see Anomalous Alchemy-002] that is coated with specialised alchemical substance responsible for preventing local reality distortion.

---
The MTF leader "Lamb", recited the documents out loud, before shoving the copy of the document into his backpack.
He turned his head toward the rest of his squad, a total of eight instead of five. All standing tall and strong, with highest mithril and adamantine enchantment, equipped with Foundation's experimental military grade sceptre and a stack of magical potions.
"Listen up folks!" He yelled at the rest of his squad, projecting his voice with an authoritative boom. "We are dealing with a horde-based anomaly, seems to be an anti-magical kind, so do not underestimate these fuckers-" he knew none of them would, they were each hardened war veteran who had survived countless combat and had joined who had joined the Federation for at least 4 years. "These things can be killed. But they are hard to track, so keep your eyes peeled. These Physics aim for your ankles, even with the level of armor sophistication we have, I doubt it would be very effective against a claw that can pierce reality."
A hand raised amongst the squad, the MTF leader glanced at the person. A male, seemed to be from Eseia from the look of his face, "How do we shoot something that fast?"
The MTF leader glared at the man, "That is why you all need to stick together. I need all eyes on the ground, only two or three of us will be looking elsewhere. Last I need is another lost ankle, do you understand me?"
The rest chanted their affirmatives, the team leader nodded in satisfaction and grabbed his spider vision potion, drank it and waited for the effect to take place. He turned his head back, "Remember, shoot anything that moves. There are a lot of 'em so damaging these Physics is an acceptable loss understand me?"
"Sir, yes sir!"
"Our mission is to investigate the source of 5000's manifestation. Once we have gathered enough intel, we will secure the anomaly. But if it is not possible, then regroup outside and wait for further instructions." The MTF leader grabbed his golden, silvery sceptre, made of mithril, faegold and a slight trace of carmot. The crystal orb placed at the end of the sceptre, held in place with beautifully carved roots of mithril and faegold.
The crystal glowed, signalling that the weapon was active. Capable of firing a Tier 5 magic bolt at a rate of one bolt every half a second, it was the fastest mana replenishment, military sceptre in the world. The Foundation's model Havoc-9. Lamb had specifically made a modification to his Havoc-9 sceptre, augmented it with a quick cast magical barrier and at least three elemental spells suitable for an environment such as this.
Their footsteps echoed within the hollow cavern system, the wooden supports had been replaced with a much sturdier material constructed by instructed D-Class.
The wide entrance slowly narrowed, until they found a ladder leading underneath a lower floor.
One of the squad members, 'Direwolf' grabbed a potion, its glass covered by hadaroth alloy. He pulled a talisman and whispered a chant before dropping the potion to the floor below.
The potion glowed before it exploded in a burst of bluish light and dissipated quickly. Lamb glanced downward, unlike a human's grenade, the frag-splash potion's explosion did not leave much damage to the physical world other than creating a powerful shockwave, but what it did was vibrate the magical energy around itself, creating a temporarily unstable mystical energy that generated nearly similar destructive force of a grenade in the spiritual realm.
A second later, they heard rustling from down below. With their spider vision, it was clear as day when all the Physic-5000s arrived, the slight unnatural purring sounds disturbing rather than comforting.
They all rushed toward the explosion, gathered together like a frenzy.
Unlike what the elves thought, all of the 'anomalies' below weren't attracted to the sound of the explosion but rather the swirling mass of dust and debris that was blown away.
"Shit looks like rabid dogs," one of the squad muttered, glaring as the creatures swarmed around the location. "We can't get down there. There's too many of 'em."
Lamb agreed, he glanced at the deeper part of the mineshaft, unlit and broken. There were multiple entrances to the unexplored part of the mineshaft, like mazes it branched off into more sections. "Then we walk forward," Lamb said, already standing up.
As they slowly trudged forward, Lamb inquired, "What is the history of this mine?"
"Built back in 1937," one of the squad members provided an answer, 'Rat' his codename was. "Belong to a long deceased noble family, Aldrusky Normonik."
"Any odd history about the guy?" Lamb inquired, his eyes trained forward.
Rat shrugged, "There seems to be none. The man died back in 1940, and the mineshaft was bought by a merchant who goes by the name Beradron Ricky."
The team leader spun his head, "Ricky? Odd name."
"From the record, it seems like he was an abusive employer. The mineshaft was abandoned three years ago when his business collapsed," Rat answered. "There had been multiple reports of the workers who heard strange noises and saw some weird-ass creature, the description seems to fit perfectly to the Physic."
They reached deeper into the mines. The narrow pathway made it hard for them to navigate through, the railtrack itself had ended- leaving only the metal frame of where the cart wheel was supposed to be.
"Halt," Lamb whispered, in front of them was a vault door made of adamantine, there seemed to be a form of locked safe mechanism. "Foxy, inspect."
The MTF agent cautiously walked forward, instead of a sceptre, he had a wand in his hand. Tapping the wall, he glanced back. "Hollow," he stated.
Lamb approached, he pulled out a flat piece of circular black paper, etched with various spells and placed it on the vault. He made a series of gestures with his hand before the written glyphs glowed and dimmed a moment later. "It doesn't have any magical barrier or anti-intrusion spell."
"Suspicious," Pegasus, a slightly shorter member of the group said. "Should we break it down?"
"No," Lamb commanded. "Not yet."
He trotted forward, leaned in and tapped the metal surface once more. Pressing his ear on the vault door, he turned his head toward the others, "There's something behind this door."
In response, the rest of them readied their sceptre, it glowed bright blue, crackle of mystical energy generated from the mana crystal.
Lamb glanced toward Pegasus, "Do you know how to crack this open?"
Pegasus nodded and walked toward the vault, he held out his wand and aimed it toward the vault door. With a chant, the wooden stick glowed and projected an arch of reddish energy that struck the vault.
It sizzled, soot slowly building up into small fire as it travelled through the thick adamantine, the spell itself does not damage the adamantine wall, but accelerated the rusting process of the mithril bolts. Pegasus' wand slowly deteriorated, it splintered and cracked as the magical beam completed its purpose.
"It's done," he gasped, exhausted by magical diminishment.
Lamb kicked down the now weakened adamantine door, causing it to stumble before slowly dropping down. The crash echoed within the cavern, but it wouldn't have mattered if it was silent- behind the vault was a swarm of Physic-5000s.
Out of pure reflex, they fired. Magical projectiles flew through the air at an incredible speed and seared through the shells of the creatures. Lamb threw his frag-splash potion, it burst bright blue before dissipating and revealed many more of the tiny cretins crawling toward them.
For hours, there was only screaming, screeching and the crackle of energy bolts filling the air.
Location: Site-7
"I am the ultimate destroyer of worlds," cried the golem-like creature.
It had one large dead, black eye staring at the group of researchers. Its body elvenoid in nature, made of hardened carapace that was neither metallic nor organic- the entity itself claimed it to be made of 'composite polymer'.
It has no mouth, yet every word was spoken clearly and loudly.
Dr. Wand glanced at the creature, "...huh."
---

Item #: Physic-060
Object Class: Active
Special Containment Procedure: Physic-060 is to be kept in a standard elvenoid containment cell and its cell are to be regularly maintained from scattered anomalous ammunition piled on the ground.
There is to be at least one D-Class to interact with Physic-060 in a daily basis and keep it entertained.
Description: Physics-060 is an elvenoid entity made of unknown material it claimed to be made of 'composite polymer' [see Anomalous Alchemy-002]. It has two pairs of arms that are attached to strange appendages capable of firing harmless brightly colored projectiles at an incredible speed, range and rate. These projectile will anomalously refill itself within its appendages and began shooting again.
Addendum-1
Despite Physic-060 being an aggressive entity, it is considered to be harmless by the Foundation. As such, it is not necessary to increase the security containment of 060.
Addendum-2
Physic-060 will constantly fire small, brightly colored projectiles at any entity's head usually yelling a variety of words such as, "boom headshot", "you suck", or "game over".
Sometimes different sets of words spoken when it is under a specific situation, such as but not limited to; "double kill", "triple kill", "spawn kill" or "you are terminated".

---
"060," Dr. Wand said. "Nice to see you al-" an orange dart flew toward his face, slightly irritating the researcher.
"Organic lifeform," it commented. "Must kill." Then fired another round of the orange dart projectile.
"Now, if you just let me-" he didn't even get to finish that sentence too, when the other projectile hit his nose, causing an involuntary yelp.
"Alert," It yelled. "Your kind shall be destroyed."
"Now, could you please-" another dart Wand's face.
"Report for termination," it said again before firing another round of the projectile. Earning the ire of the senior staff researcher. "Proceed for Protocol-2 [initiating psychological warfare…]
Wand blocked off another twenty projectiles with his notepad. "Now if you could let me ask you some questions, that would be appreciated!"
"[Sentence initiated] Your momma's fat," it suddenly stated. "She's so big that she can suck the Eiffel tower dry."
Wand groaned, glaring at the rather annoying anomaly. "Now, that's uncalled for."
"Your face is uncalled for," replied the creature who had apparently ceased his aggression. "I am the ultimate doom of [recalculating...] elvenkind. Your entire species is a result of god's failure."
Wand simply sat and leaned back to his chair, "okay… are you done?"
The golem-thing stared at Wand, still lifting its weapon toward the researcher, before it shoots the darts again, but this time it hit the guards who stood behind Wand.
"Where do you come from?" Wand proceed, not bothering for an introduction anymore.
"From the trenches of war, I am built as the ultimate killer of existence," it said.
"I doubt that," Wand muttered before asking another question. "What are you?"
"Machine of pure terror," was the reply before it shoots his face again. "I am built for combat."
Wand brushes off the irritation on his face and continued his questions, "you are 'built'? And what sort of 'machine' are you?" Whilst the concept of robot, machinery and technology is nonexistent, the elven race had created multitude of fiction revolving around such concepts.
"That information is confidential," the entity claimed.
Wand grunts, "fine. Care to explain how that… weapon worked?"
The thing gleamed in excitement when Wand mentioned its… weapon?
It flipped the object, Wand noticed the object is basically affixed on its hand. "This is the Roundhouse XX-1500 Nerf gun, my creator had given it to me so that I may complete my task."
Wand arched an eyebrow, "and that is…?"
"Destroy you elves," it said proudly.
"Right," Wand sighed and flipped his documents file. "How do you refill each of your projectiles?"
"[Accessing datafile, information- Page: 7], remote teleportation and 3D printing," was its response.
Wand glared, initially confused. "I'm sorry I don't quite get that."
The entity stared at his face for a fraction of a second before firing another round of orange darts, pausing for a moment before firing again.
"This- this interview i- it's over," Wand exclaimed. "Can I leave now?"
"No," the leading researcher command behind the glass wall, "we need to continue."
"Can't Crystal do this?"
"He is busy," the announcer said.
Ward glanced at the glass wall, staring at the silhouette whilst being hit hundred orange dart continuously hit his notepad. "And what could he be possibly doing now?!"
Location: Site-7, Test Chamber A-7
Following request is approved by:
​

• -Site Director-7 "Sorphix Gabrien"
• -Primary Council-04
• -Primary Council-06
• -Dr. Drocyn Crystal (invalid approval)

​
Crystal glared at the test chamber through the thick glass slit, observing it from the otherside of the room.
"Dr. Crystal?" A young female squeaked behind him. "Are you sure about this?"
The senior staff researcher averted his gaze toward the new researcher, he lifted his document towards her. "We have tried this test like… eleven times already. All of them failed."
The junior researcher seemed hesitant before grabbing the paper. She had heard a lot of things about the man before her and she's being extremely cautious around such an unstable person. Grabbing the document, she scanned through the list.
---

[Test To Kill Physic-4000]
By: Dr. Drocyn Crystal
After reviewing 4000's capability and its clear aggression toward all lifeforms, the Primary Council had decided to unanimously vote to destroy 4000.
Military Sceptre
Results: All form of magic bolt bounces off its scale
Note: That was predictable
S-Rank Dragons
Results:Physic-4000 is able to resist the attack of fire dragon, ice dragon, water dragon, wind dragon, earth (wingless) dragon, lightning dragon, dark dragon, fae dragon etc. And maul every single one of them except for wind dragon.
Note: lightning, ice and fire seemed to be able to slow it down.
Double Note: Nope it does not, but attacking it with multiple dragons seemed effective.
Triple Note: I forget that it can heal.
Aerial Spell Assault
Result: After an hour of assault, the spell is able to damage 25% of its scale.
Note: We have progress. But it killed all of our MTF units.
Enchanted Hwacha
Result: Anything above Tier 10 Magic Bombardment Arrow is capable of piercing through its scale. But all forms of damage and injury was later regenerated and Physic-4000 escaped its containment cell, destroying major public property.
Note: Don't shoot its fucking ass. Just don't.
A Child
Result: [REDACTED]
Note: That was messed up.
Council Report: Utilising ordinary elves is no longer allowed.
A Lot Of Children
(Test Cancelled)
Physic-2105 "Technological Sceptre"
Result: 2105 is able to penetrate into its internal organs, however it is incapable of damaging its skeletal structure.
Note: Why didn't we think of using Physics before?
Physic-3130 "Void Artifact"
Result: 3130 is capable of tearing apart 4000's body except for its skeleton.
Note: Our mission now is to crack open those bones, we need more tests.
Physic-095 "Metal Dragon"
Result: A two hour long battle in [REDACTED] desert.
Note: it didn't kill 4000, but holy shit that was an epic battle.
Physic-016 "Cursed Images"
Result: No apparent reaction
Note: N/A
Physic-662 "Death Swarm"
Result: Physic-4000 developed a non-mystical energy pulse that deactivate all presence of 662, before it anomalously gain control over the entire swarm of 662 result a severe Class III containment breach.
Note: Both 4000 and 662 are to be kept in a SEPARATE site.

---
The researcher frowned as she re-read through the entire document again, before casting a glare at her senior, "I… have multiple questions."
Crystal ignored her and waved his hand to begin the test, "that can wait." He muttered before turning his head toward the other technical personnel, channeling their wind magic to lift the mithril door.
A second later, Physic-4000 slithered out. Its hardened scales glimmered under the ray of fae lanterns. Its eyes gazed the room before averting it toward Dr. Crystal and growled.
"Foolish mortal," it said, the guttural hiss and growl echoed within the empty room. "You think you can get rid of me?"
Crystal shrugged, "not sure but it doesn't hurt to try. Well, at least for us."
It hissed again, "I'll enjoy snapping your bones to half."
Crystal chuckled, "I appreciate the offer, but no thanks." He signalled the pixie on the desk to begin their extermination test. The little creature nodded and flew toward other pixie and informed them to release their next list to kill 4000.
Crystal doubts that it can kill the thing, but the Foundation seems desperate.
A moment later the ceiling slid open, revealing a silhouette of something metallic before it was dropped. The only thing they saw was a blur before raging inferno flashes before their eyes.
Memories assaulted Dr. Crystal, flashback of the terrible events.
As he stared at the screeching beast, it reminded him of those old times. The raging inferno, the heatwave that assaulted your senses, it choked your lungs and blinded your eyes. It didn't even instantly kill you, but instead the fire tortured its victim, the heat travelled everywhere.
Physic-666 was in the hands of a particular GoI known as the 'Childrens of Flesh'. From the gathered scripts and ancient scroll of the Childrens of Flesh it is believed that Physic-666 was an analog to the infamous Scanthan mythological hellfire. Although such a connection was purely hypothetical.
The flame did travel through its body, 4000's bone chilling screech is able to crack the 40 minor-unit thick Tier 2 durability enchanted glass. But it did not die, it didn't even melt its scale, there is only the strange bluish blood bleeding through the gaps between its scale, it did not evaporate like normal blood, neither did 4000's flesh cauterized like ordinary flesh.
Then its eyes glaring at Crystal, its scale began to vibrate, one can see the texture of its carapace begin to slowly morph and change. The elves called it natural adaptation, unaware of the nature of nanotechnology and programmable matter. The large serpent opened its jaw, sharp dagger-like teeth displayed before Crystal, who simply stared unamused.
The creature bit down, its teeth cracked the corridite, breaking the glass. All the personnel within the observatory room screamed and flee in terror, but the mad researcher simply stared.
It felt like hours when the reinforcement arrived, multiple adamantine armor enchanted with featherweight spell, Tier 3 durability and resistance. They fired their sceptre, not to kill or even slow it down- but to distract it.
The creature snapped its attention toward the row of soldiers, their armor had a certain taste of medieval knight and modern military blend together. Thick plated metal, combined with few accessories and equipment that made it oddly aesthetic.
Physic-4000 roared slithered away from Crystal and focused its attention toward the self-sacrificing individuals.
Drocyn didn't even flinch as he watched the abomination massacred the entire facility guards. He simply stared emotionlessly.
"Hurt doesn't it?" He whispered alone.
[Previous/Next]
---
Release the bee¹: A similar idiom to 'spill the bean'

Start|Previous Part| Next Part
Here's part 2 I hope you enjoy it.
Just a quick warning there is some light nsfw content towards the end of this part.
Sitting around a table in the private room that had been given to them Tucker groaned as he held his head in his hands.
“One of these days you’re gonna learn moderation.” Thatcher said as he and Vic played cards together.
“I got challenged to a drinking match.” Tucker groaned “The dignity of the whole human race was at stake.”
As Thatcher smirked at him Vic said “You know half the stuff you drank has probably never been consumed by a human before?”
“You hear that Thatch? I’m a pioneer.” he lifted his head up to grin at his boss only to immediately regret it.
“Here.” Thatcher said taking pity on him and pouring him a drink. “Have some hair of the dog.”
Mumbling his thanks Tucker downed the drink in one gulp making Thatcher shake his head. “So where’s Asami at?”
“No idea.” Thatcher replied as he examined the cards he was dealt. “Hopefully doing her job.”
“Speaking of which, what’s the plan here boss? We sticking with these guys or what?” Vic asked.
Giving him a nod Thatcher said “This group is as good a place to start as any. We’ll see how they operate, their relation to other gangs in the system, the kind of fire power they usually run with. If they’re useful we’ll hang around otherwise we’ll jump ship if and when a more serviceable option presents itself.”
“Sounds good to me.” Tucker said as he reached for the bottle only for Thatcher to pull it out of reach.
As the door to their room opened the three of them looked up to see Asami enter and make her way over to their table. “Morning Fellas.” she said loudly into Tucker’s ear as she passed making him wince and groan.
Frowning at her as she put her feet up on the table with a smirk Tucker asked “So where have you been?”
“Oh, you know. Just improving relations with humanities galactic neighbours.” She grinned as she grabbed Thatchers bottle and took a swig.
Blinking at her Tucker said “What, with Captain Furball?” getting a nod from her he turned to look at Thatcher and gestured to Asami with his thumb “How come she gets to fuck the aliens but I don’t?”
“Because the ones she screws don’t try to eat her.” Vic said dryly.
“Well, I wouldn’t go so far to say there was no eating involved.” she snickered.
“Don’t cats have barbs on their-” Tucker started only for Thatcher to interrupt.
“Enough.” he silenced Tucker before looking to Asami. “At least tell me you got something out of it.” He said only to hold up his had to forestall the predictable response “Something pertaining to the mission?”
Pulling a datastick from her pocket Asami tossed it to Thatcher who caught it out the air. “Pulled this directly from Artum’s computer. Seems like our new friends are pretty low on the totem pole but the captain’s the ambitious sort. He’s got oppo research on most of the other gangs in this part of the system and if I didn’t know any better I’d say he’s thinking about making a power play and working his way up the ranks. With a little bit of help he might even get a seat at the big boys table.”
“This Tucker,” Thatcher said as he skimmed through the data Asami had pilfered “is why she gets to fuck the aliens.”
“I found out some important stuff too.” he huffed “For example I bet you didn’t know that Kreeduds can’t hold their liquor for shit.”
“I’m sure that’ll be very useful to know.” Thatcher said absently as he turned off the datapad and tucked the datastick away for safe keeping. “Let’s get something to eat and see if we can find out if Asami’s boyfriend has decided if he wants be a social climber or if he’s content where he is.”
Getting to their feet the four of them left their room and headed to a cantina. They had found out the day before that Artum’s gang controlled the entire station and the area they were in was reserved solely for the use of his crew which numbered in the hundreds. As soon as they entered the mess hall Artum spotted them and called out “There you are my friends! Come, come join me!” he said as he shooed away the men who had been sitting at his table to make space for the humans. “You can come sit on my lap my dear.” he purred at Asami who simply gave him an amused smirk and sat in the seat next to him. “I trust you’ve found my hospitality acceptable?”
“You’ve been more than generous.” Thatcher replied.
“Think nothing off it. I like to think I have an eye for talent and when I see it I’ll go to no ends to see they become mine.” he said as he took a long pull from his bottle before offering it to Asami. “I’ve been asking around about your species. No one this far out seems to know much about you, just rumours and third hand accounts from the war. Most Union races seem to agree that you Humans are little more than savages; you should hear how the Draastrekians talk about you, you’ve become the bogeyman for an entire galactic power. Oh, they’ll grandstand and declare they’ll tear you Humans limb from limb and feast on your entrails given the chance but they’re all pissing themselves at the thought of another war with your kind.”
“And how do you see us?” Thatcher wondered.
“Draastrekians may not be the smartest creatures in the galaxy but their military might is undeniable. And any race formidable enough to give them pause shouldn’t be so easily discounted as savages.” he said, his golden eyes examining the four of them closely “Did you truly burn their brood-worlds to ash?”
“Not personally.” Tucker said as he reached for the bottle only for Asami to slap his hand away.
“We humans tend to take a very pragmatic approach to warfare.” Thatcher said “You come at us once we’re damn well gonna make sure you never come at us again.”
“And we can be pretty inventive when we have to be.” Asami added as she leaned back in her chair and brought her hands behind her head, drawing Artum’s gaze towards her chest.
Grinning hungrily at her Artum said “I think the four of you will be a great asset to my crew. And I seem to be in the market for some new lieutenants.”
“Your men going to be cool taking orders from us?” Vic asked “As Thatch said we’re not looking to step on any toes and I can’t see them being too pleased with us being here all of five minutes and already outranking them.”
“You’re underestimating how useful your species reputation can be in this part of the galaxy and in this line of work.” Artum said as he reached out to squeeze Asami’s thigh “Especially after they all saw how Asami handled Dren.”
“Just so we know what you want us to do, are you looking to expand your territory or are you just interested in maintaining what you have?” Thatcher asked.
“First why don’t you tell me what you think of my operation.” Artum replied.
“Haven’t really seen much enough to give an opinion.” Thatcher shrugged.
“From what I’ve seen it seems pretty second rate if you ask me.” Asami said idly.
“Oh?” Artum narrowed his eyes at her “We control this entire starport; anyone entering or leaving the system has to pass through us not to mention this is where all the minerals that are mined in this part of the asteroid belt are processed.”
“And that all sounds very impressive.” Asami replied “Until you realise that means when the Union finally decide to get off their asses and retake the system through force you’re the one whose gonna take the brunt of their fleet at full strength. As for the asteroid mining I can’t imagine that’s anywhere near as profitable as mining planetside. I mean, if you own the whole planet it’s not like the miners have any choice who they sell it to, up here if they don’t like your price they can simply fly to the next port and try their luck there.” she explained “So all in all you’re just a backwoods crew happy to pick up scraps while acting as cannon fodder for the rest of the gangs that are set up towards the centre of the system.” she said as she brought the bottle up to her lips only for Artum to slap it out of her hands.
Letting out a snarl Artum roughly grasped her wrist and yanked her towards him “Just because I took you to bed does not mean I shall tolerate such disrespect straight to my face!”
Unfazed by his sudden rage Asami smiled as she leaned in closer to him “I’m sorry baby.” she purred huskily as she moved her unrestrained hand to his thigh and began slowly sliding her hand up and down. “I was just teasing. Forgive me?” she asked seductively as she moved her hand higher.
Feeling himself stiffen at her touch Artum’s anger started to subside and began to loosen his grip on her arm only to gasp when he felt something sharp poke him. Looking down his eyes went wide as he saw Asami was holding a knife to his groin.
As he whipped his head back up to look at her he found her smiling pleasantly at him. “You ever grab me like that again and I’ll geld you, understand?” giving her a nod Artum released her wrist. “Good boy.” she smiled as she affectionately patted his crotch before stabbing the knife into his chair making him jump in his seat. “I’m gonna go grab some food.” she announced as she stood up.
“Get me some while you’re at it.” Tucker called after her only for Asami to flip him off over her shoulder without even turning to look at him.
Staring after her retreating form in abject fascination Artum grabbed the knife and yanked it out from his seat and tossed it on the table as he looked at the three humans opposite him who seemed unperturbed by what had just transpired. As a grin tugged on the corners of his mouth Artum let out a throaty laugh and said “I love human women! Are all your females like her?”
“Asami’s one of a kind.” Thatcher replied with a small smile.
“Do you have any idea how long it’s been since anyone has even dared to threaten my life? And in less than a day she’s held a gun to my head and a knife to my groin!” he roared with laughter “You humans truly are a fascinating species. I’m sure you’ll be very useful to me.” he grinned.
“You still haven’t told us your goals.” Vic pointed out.
Letting out a grunt Artum replied “What do you know of the power balance in this system.”
“Just that the Praxian government lost control of it and is now being run by pirate gangs.” Tucker said.
“That’s right.” Artum nodded his head “A few years ago someone began uniting and organising the larger gangs in they system. They co-ordinated attacks and raids on such a scale that by the time the Conglomeration realised we were all working together it was too late; we had already taken over every starport and blockaded every planet until they surrendered control to us. And once we got our claws into the system they were powerless to oust us.” he grinned.
“Who’s this ‘someone’ who got everyone working together?” Thatcher asked.
“No idea.” Artum shrugged his shoulders. “Never met him in person. The heads of the biggest gangs, the ones now running entire planets and calling themselves Pirate Lords are the only ones to have ever been in contact with him and from what I’ve heard they don’t even know his species.”
“Sounds like a fairytale to me.” Tucker said “Some shadowy puppeteer pulling the stings from behind the scenes that no ones ever seen.”
“Believe what you will but trust me when I say there’s no way those gangs would have started working together of their own volition. Without him to control them they wouldn’t have been able to stop stabbing each other in the back long enough to present a united front against the Conglomeration.”
“And where do you fit into this?” Thatcher asked.
“As much as I hate to admit it Asami was right.” he begrudgingly said as the woman in question returned to the table carrying a tray of food.
“I usually am.” she said as she slid onto Artum’s lap as if she hadn’t just threatened to castrate him.
Raising an eyebrow at the woman Artum looked towards the other humans who seemed not to take any notice of her perplexing behaviour. Chalking it up as another human idiosyncrasy Artum shook his head and began stroking her thigh as he continued “Compared to the self-entitled Pirate Lords who took over the colonies we are a lot smaller and joined up later. Which is why we are relegated to this ‘backwoods’ corner of the system as Asami so eloquently put it.”
“And I take it you want to change that?” Thatcher asked.
“That thought had occurred to me.” he admitted as he reached out towards Asami’s plate only for her stab her knife into the piece of meat he had tried to pick up. Staring into his eyes Asami brought the meat up to her mouth and tore a chunk off with her teeth before proffering it to Artum. Returning her stare with glowing eyes Artum took a bite of his own “You are a thrilling creature.” he declared with a lustful growl as he squeezed her thigh and moved his hand higher.
“mmm, down boy.” she said breathily as she slapped his hand “We’re talking business, there’ll be time for fun later.” she smiled as pulled the rest of the meat off of the knife with her teeth.
Seeing their new boss enthralled by the woman on his lap Thatcher cleared his throat and said “So you’re looking to expand and take one of these mining colonies for yourself? I think we can help with that.”
“Oh?” Artum asked with a raised eyebrow. “And how would you go about doing that?”
“Well for starters your outfit is too small. We make a play for the colonies as we are now any one of the bigger gangs will crush us before we set foot planetside. So we need to swell the ranks before we move against them.” Thatcher said “Tell me, what’s your relationship like with the other crews in this part of the system?”
“We’re pirates.” Artum said amused. “We tolerate each other so long as we don’t infringe on another’s turf.”
Nodding his head Thatcher said “There are two ways we can go about this. The first is we absorb the smaller gangs. We offer them a bigger piece of the pie if they’re willing to work for us. Those that reject us we kill the guys in charge. Either the guy who replaces him is a lot more amicable to working with us or the group will be splintered in the power vacuum and we’ll just pick up the scraps. We’ll only have to do this two or three times before word gets around and they start lining up to join us. Of course this comes with its own risks. The smaller gangs could band together to fight against us much like you all did against the Praxia Conglomeration or one of your larger rivals could take note of our expansion and try to poach them from us or even stage a pre-emptive strike against us and start a war to curtail our growth before we become to big for them to deal with.”
“And the second?” Artum asked as he accepted another mouthful from Asami.
“The second is we go after your biggest rivals first.” Thatcher replied “Taking them out would be difficult but if done right would be the quickest way to expand. Of course if we end up in an open war with them it’d leave us vulnerable to any of the smaller factions who have a shred of ambition as they’d see their biggest rivals weakened regardless of if we win or lose. But should we come out of it unscathed the smaller gangs would have no choice but to fall in line.”
“And which way would you recommend?” Artum asked as he thoughtfully drummed his fingers against Asami’s thigh.
Looking among themselves for a moment Tucker said “Go big or go home I say.”
“Who are the biggest competition?” Thatcher asked.
Thinking for a moment Artum’s lips curled into a grin “That would be Kranii. His is the second largest crew after mine which has always grated against his scales.”
“He Draastrekian?” Thatcher asked.
“Him and all his lieutenants. While the rank and file can be any species he only promotes Draastrekians to any position of command. I trust that won’t be a problem?”
“Not at all.” Vic replied.
“Us humans have had a lot of practice killing lizards.” Asami added with a smile.
“Let’s say you pull this off. What would you want in return?” He asked.
“We get you one of the colonies we get a share of all the profits. In perpetuity.” Thatcher said.
Narrowing his eyes at him Artum replied “You ask a lot.”
“We’re promising a lot.” Thatcher retorted “Look at it this way, you don’t get your planet we don’t get paid. Any gains you make between now and then is pure profit.”
Seeing him wavering Thatcher made a subtle gesture to Asami who tilted her head slightly in acknowledgement before leaning back into Artum’s chest and reached up to scratch him beneath his chin “Trust me baby, we’re worth every penny.”
As a throaty purr rumbled from his gullet Artum looked to Thatcher and said “What would you need to get it done?”
“A ship and any intel you have on them.” Thatcher replied.
“That’s it?” Artum asked with a raised eyebrow “His crew is comparable in size to my own.”
“The four of us will be more than sufficient.” Thatcher assured him “As Asami said, we’ve had a lot of practice killing lizards.”
A Month Later
Sitting in his private quarters Artum drank deeply from a bottle as he watched the two women dancing for his entertainment. One was Praxian, her glossy ashen fur which covered her slender body shone with an alluring lustre as her body swayed with the music. Her partner was an Oran, a cousin of the Draastrekians her kind was more humanoid than their brutish relatives; their green scales soft and smooth to the touch, her face more human than reptilian with a series of long hollow spines sprouting from her head in place of hair. As they ground their bodies together the two women began to strip what skimpy clothing they wore all the while casting seductive glances towards Artum.
Setting aside the bottle Artum snapped his fingers at the two women and let out a growl as they approached. Pulling them against him Artum forced his lips against the Praxian woman as his hands roamed their bodies. For her part the Oranian woman leaned in and kissed his neck as she started to pull off his shirt. Running her fingers through the fur on his chest the scaled woman started to kiss her way downwards when a voice called out “Not interrupting are we?”
Pulling his lips away from the woman his was kissing Artum looked passed them and saw Thatcher, Tucker and Asami standing in front of him. “How did you three get in here?” he frowned as he pushed the two woman off of him making them scowl at the interlopers.
“Your security’s not exactly the greatest in the galaxy.” Tucker smiled as his eyes roamed the near naked aliens still clinging to Artum. “An important guy like you might want to look into that.”
Letting out a grunt Artum grabbed the bottle and started to fill three glasses for them “I expected to hear from you sooner. I take it you’re here to requisition some of my men?”
Raising an eyebrow as he accepted the drink Thatcher asked “Why would we do that?”
Blinking at the man Artum said “To help you take out Kranii and his lieutenants?”
“That won’t be necessary, we’re just here to discuss who you want us to go after next.” Thatcher said with a smile.
“Do you mean to tell me you’ve taken over Kranii’s crew in a month?” he asked sceptically.
“It was two weeks actually.” Asami smiled as she moved to sit across from him “One week to track them down and another to do them all in. We spent the rest of the time stabilising the gang and hunting down the remnants of the command structure we missed. We left Vic behind to run things until you decide how you want to incorporate them into your crew.” she said as she brought her feet up onto the table between them.
Hearing a horrified gasp from the Oranian next to him Artum followed her gaze to Asami’s feet where his golden eyes went wide at the sight of the leather boots she was wearing. Noticing their attention Asami wiggled her foot back and forth to show them off. “What do you think? Nice aren’t they? I had Vic make me a pair. He’s good at fiddly stuff like this.” she explained “You can’t get stuff like this any more since the war ended, well not legally at least. Genuine Draast leather, nothing finer.” she said proudly. “Oh, speaking of which I had Vic make something for you too. Think of it as a parting gift from Kranii.” she said with a grin as she reached behind her and pulled out a box.
Reaching out with shaking hands Artum accepted the box and opened it to reveal a long leather duster. Lifting it out of the box made the Praxian woman gasp and cover her mouth in horror while the Oranian’s green skin had turned pale and she seemed like she was about to throw up. Taking pity on the two women Thatcher said “You girls can go now.”
Not needing to be told twice the two women scrambled to gather their clothes before fleeing the room. Watched as they ran away Tucker made to follow after them only for Thatcher to grab him by the collar and yank him backwards before he had taken more than two steps. Looking at the humans Artum said “I’m sure you’re aware this is going to spread all over the station in an hour?”
“You say that like it’s a bad thing.” Tucker grinned.
“Put it on. I wanna see how it fits.” Asami insisted.
Reluctantly doing as she asked Artum slipped on coat made from his former rival. “I’m not sure how I feel about wearing the skin of another sentient, even if Kranii only barely counted as such.”
“If nothing else it sends a message.” Thatcher replied. “Wearing the hide of your defeated rival; I’d certainly think twice about wanting to be on your bad side.”
“I think it looks great on you.” Asami purred as she stood up and pressed herself against her chest, her hands running over the leather coat “I can’t begin to tell you the things it makes me want to do to you.” she said as she seductively bit her bottom lip.
Enjoying the warmth of her body against his Artum stared down into Asami’s smouldering eyes as he grabbed hold of her waist “You are as captivating as you are terrifying my dear.” he declared as he leaned down to kiss her only for her to push him backwards.
“uh-uh, business first, fun later.” she grinned at him as she returned to her seat.
Letting out a growl Artum said “So how did you do it? How’d you take over Kranii’s crew so quickly?”
“Draastrekians aren’t the smartest around; they rely on brute strength and numbers to overwhelm their enemies.” Tucker said.
“They’re also proud and arrogant.” Thatcher continued “Once we found out where they called home it was easy enough to draw them out. We had Tucker hit all the bars in the station making sure to let everyone know that there was a human around shit talking the Draastrekians. They might be scared shitless of us humans as a whole but there’s no way they’d let a single one of us run his mouth on their own turf.”
“So Kranii got all his lizardmen buddies together for a good old fashion lynching.” Asami added.
“How did you know he wouldn’t sic his entire crew on him?” Artum asked.
“You remember how eager your pet lizard was to get a chance to maul one of us? We figured it was a better than even chance that they wouldn’t want to run the risk one of their men taking Tucker out before they got their hands on him.” Thatcher replied.
“Just want to reiterate that me being chased by a horde of angry lizards isn’t one of your better plans.” Tucker huffed as he sipped his drink.
“I don’t know about that. Seemed to work out well enough. And you had Vic following you at a discrete distance if something went wrong.” Asami smiled dismissively.
“And what if they just shot me in the back?” he asked with a frown.
“It wouldn’t have been a great loss.” she said with a shrug. “Besides I doubt they’d settle for something that quick. They’d want to play around with you first.”
“Anyway,” Thatcher said “Tucker led them to an empty storage hanger where Asami and I were already set up and waiting for them. It never occurred to them that they were walking straight into an ambush.”
“We took out half of them after we tossed a grenade right in their faces.” Asami said with a grin “Those that survived that tried to retreat but Vic came up behind them and cut off their means of escape. Sandwiched between us it didn’t take more than two minutes to finish them all off.”
“You make it sound so easy.” Artum muttered as he shook his head. “It must have been quite messy not to mention loud.”
“It was.” Thatcher agreed “It wasn’t long before the rest of his gang showed up.”
“And how did you deal with them?” Artum wondered.
With a small smile on his face Thatcher said “Kranii liked to rule with a ‘might makes right’ style of management. It was pretty well ingrained in them that only the toughest have the right to run things.”
“And when they walked in and saw Asami halfway through skinning Kranii himself it was abundantly clear who the biggest badass around here was.” Tucker grinned as he held out his fist to Asami who smirked and bumped her own fist against his.
Blinking his golden eyes as he stared at Asami Artum asked “You skinned him yourself?”
“Of course. Thatch and Vic were busy planning our next move and I wasn’t going to trust Tuck to do it.” she smiled “You have any idea how much Draast leather goes for back home? There are people who’ll pay a fortune to get their hands on Draastrekian hide and there no way I was going to let Tucker butcher it. Don’t worry, I saved the best cuts for us.” she said with a wink.
As Artum stared at the woman sitting proudly across from him his gaze was filled with equal measures or terror, disgust and wonder. He had heard stories about the war between the Terran Empire and the Draastreks Imperium, the Draastrekians in particular couldn’t shut up about it. He had heard about the savage ferocity these apes had displayed on the battlefield, the acts of barbarism they perpetrated against any unfortunate soul they captured, the righteous fury they rained down on planets leaving a trail of death and destruction in their wake as they burned their way through the galaxy on their way to enact vengeance for the Draastrekian’s transgressions. It had gotten to the point where even the proud Draastrekians had to come begging for help from the Union.
It took the full might of the Union armada to give the humans their first major defeat in the war. In their arrogance the Union believed that after such a defeat the humans would come begging for peace. All it did was make them change their tactics. Avoiding full scale engagements the humans began guerilla warfare, never amassing in one place they forced the Union fleet to disperse opening themselves up to being whittled down as they were led into ambushes, the fractured command structure inherent in a fleet composed of many different nations hampered communication never allowing them to achieve a decisive victory against the humans. And with every battle they won they became all the more dangerous.
Like scavengers picking clean a carcass they salvaging the destroyed ships and stole technologies that would have taken them generations to develop independently. This rapid scientific advancement enabled them to field even deadlier warships and soon the gap between the Unions technologically superior fleet and the humans narrowed. Faced with superior tactics and now equatable technology the only advantage left to the Grand Fleet was their numbers.
That’s when the terrorist attacks began.
Not content with chipping away at the Grand Fleet the humans began targeting Union controlled space; raiding and demolishing any spaceports or shipyards they found, destroying any non human ship they encountered regardless of whether it was a civilian or military vessel. Entire harvests of agricultural worlds were poisoned or burned if not outright pilfered, mines were bombed and industrial centres sabotaged. The humans infiltrated scores of Union worlds, sowing discord and terror among the aliens as they targeted the planets infrastructure; destroying power plants plunging them into darkness, planetary defences were undermined leaving them defenceless should a hostile fleet arrive all the while all levels of government were targets for bombings resulting in chaos as their leaders were killed. The humans they managed to capture never lived for long, almost all taking their own lives but not before delivering a chilling message.
We Are Coming For You.
The weaker members of the Union could no longer afford to keep contributing to the Grand Fleet, not while their own space was ravaged by human privateers and so withdrew their ships in order to police their own domains though the humans didn’t let such an opening go unpunished. Without the protection of the Grand Fleet the humans were able pick off the retreating ships, harassing them all the way back to their own space weakening them further.
Finally faced with the prospect of their own planets coming under attack the Union reassembled the Grand Fleet and flew it straight to Earth. Ignoring any human settled worlds along the way they barrelled through Sol’s system defences to orbit the human homeworld where they delivered an ultimatum; surrender or Earth would be destroyed.
In an act of suicidal defiance the humans had dared them to open fire; delivering the warning that should Earth fall they had best be sure to kill every last human in the galaxy because they would Never Stop Coming for Them. As the leaders of the fleet consulted amongst themselves about how to react to this shocking display of indifference in the face of planetary annihilation a transmission was blasted from the planets surface in all directions before they block it. The message was simply this:
Destruction of Earth imminent. Do not return. Avenge Us.
Within days reports came flooding in to the Grand Fleet of an increase of attacks all throughout Union controlled space. These attacks were on a different sale and intensity than the ones meant to divert the Grand Fleet with civilian population centres being targeted indiscriminately and without mercy, ships were discovered filled with the desecrated and mutilated bodies of massacred crews. Even surrendering proved fruitless as the humans gave no quarter as they enacted their revenge.
As the full extent of what a Total War against the humans would entail became apparent to them the Union members were finally driven to seek peace, ultimately resulting in the Terran Empire joining the Union not as a subjugated species but as a member of equal standing to even the Unions founders.
Tales of these suicidal barbarians had spread throughout the Union but Artum had thought them mere exaggerations, not believing the Union would allow them membership if such atrocities were true. But hearing the three humans in front of him discuss selling the hide of a fellow sentient as if they were livestock with such callous indifference made his blood run cold as he wondered just what he had gotten himself into working with these humans. But despite this trepidation Artum couldn’t help but feel a thrill of excitement. This was a species feared the galaxy over, capable of single handedly bringing the greatest galactic power to it’s knees.
And they wanted to work for him.
All of a sudden he found possibilities he only dreamed of before were now within his grasp. Their reputation alone made them more valuable than the entirety of his crew but this display of savage efficiency in taking over Kranii’s crew would only enhance their infamy and his own by association. With their backing none would dare stand against him. Even the self proclaimed Pirate Lords squatting in their colonies would pause before antagonising such fearsome warriors.
As his fur rippled with exhilaration Artum he lifted his glass to them and said “My friends, you are even more impressive than your reputations led me to believe. I’m sure our partnership will be long and mutually beneficial.”
“Here here!” Tucker grinned as they downed their drinks.
Refilling their glasses Artum said “You haven’t told me how you plan to get me a colony.”
“What’s the matter sweetie, don’t you trust us?” Asami smiled as she slowly ran a finger around the rim of her glass.
“The four of you managed to accomplish a feat that would have required a long and bloody war in less than a month.” he returned her smile. “You can’t blame me for being curious about what you’ll do next.”
“You know what curiosity did to the cat don’t you?” she asked teasingly as she moved to sit next to him and press herself into his side.
Seeing the confused look on his face Thatcher said “I don’t think that idiom has made it this far out yet.” Giving him a shrug Asami snuggled closer to the Praxian, her hand slipping beneath his new coat to stroke his chest as he wrapped his arm around her waist. “As for how we plan to take over one of the colonies we’re going to have to tread carefully. We need to assimilate every crew unaffiliated with the Pirate Lords in order to build up our military strength in order to be taken seriously but we need to do it quickly and quietly. If we’re discovered too soon they may perceive us as a threat and move to crush us before we threaten their position.”
Nodding his head Artum asked “And once we have absorbed all the other gangs?”
“There are two options we can take.” Thatcher replied as he held up a finger “First we find out which one of them is the biggest asshole among them. Then we approach his rivals and make a deal with them; we’ll deal with the prick and they give us their support in exchange for a share of the profits from the mines.”
“You want me to give up even more shares?” Artum frowned.
“We could try to do it without their help but that’s risky. For one we don’t know how fraternal these guys are; they might not take kindly to one of their own being attacked. They may decided to come to our targets aid and put us down to send a message to the whole system that they are untouchable so don’t even try coming at them. If they get something for doing nothing they’re less likely to act against us.”
“And what if we succeed in taking the colony but they decide we are an easy target in our weakened state?” Artum asked.
“Which is why we need to pay them off. If they get cash for doing nothing they’re less likely to get greedy and come after us as it would leave them open to attack themselves.” Thatcher explained.
Letting out a grunt Artum asked “And the second option?”
“The second option is we go for the weakest guy.” he said holding up a second finger “Instead of attacking them we ingratiate ourselves with them; offer to add our might to theirs. Adding our crew to theirs will help consolidate his power and make his position more secure.”
“And what if he rejects our offer?” Artum wondered.
“Then we let him know we’ll be offering our services to one of his rivals. Right now the Pirate Lords hold each other in check. They can’t afford to attack one another as it would leave them open to assault while their fleets are distracted. Our crew has the potential to tip the balance of power in favour of whoever we side with. There’s no way they’d turn us away if it means one of his bolstering his rivals forces. If nothing else our added might would make them unassailable.”
“You’re assuming their mystery backer can’t keep the peace.” Artum pointed out “So far he’s kept them from tearing at each others throats. If they believe him capable of restraining the other gangs they may not see the need for our crew.”
Giving him a smirk Thatcher leaned forward and said “If I was a pirate who somehow lucked into owning an entire planet I’d do everything in my power to keep it. And I certainly wouldn’t rely on the benevolence of this man behind the curtain without making a contingency plan.”
Conceding the point with a nod Artum said “So now you’ve indentured me and my men to one of the Pirate Lords how do we take the planet from him.”
“Mining colonies are far from the safest places in the universe.” Tucker grinned “Lots of machinery and explosives; accidents happen all the time.”
“And, god forbid something happens to our new boss, someone high up in the organisation will have to take his place.” Asami purred as she rubbed his thigh “Someone who has experience running such a large organisation.”
With a grin spreading across his face Artum chuckled and said “I don’t know who is more insane; the three of you for proposing such an outlandish strategy or me for believing that you could pull it off!”
“Have we given you cause to doubt our abilities?” Thatcher asked.
“Not at all.” Artum shook his head “But even you must admit it’s an ambitious plan.”
“And you’re an ambitious man.” Asami grinned up at him. “Seems like a match made in heaven.”
Grinning down at her as he caressed her hip Artum said “Very well then. What’s the next step?”
“First you choose who you want running Kranii’s gang so we can free up Vic. Then we go on the offensive; we need the latest intel you have on the rest of the gangs specifically where to find them. With any luck our reputation will precede us and they’ll fall into line easily enough.”
“I’ll see that you get what you need.” he said as he stood up only for Asami to grab him by the wrist.
“There’s no rush is there? We can sort all that stuff out tomorrow.” she proposed with a suggestive smile.
Staring down at her with a hungry look in his eyes Artum nodded his head and sat back down next to her “I’m sure you could all use a break after working so hard. We’ll go over the details in the morning.”
“Great.” Tucker grinned “I’m gonna go see if those girls Asami chased off are still around.” he said eagerly as he made his way to the door.
“And I’ll go make sure he doesn’t do something stupid.” Thatcher sighed.
“Have fun with that.” Asami replied absently all the while staring deeply into Artum’s eyes. Once her two companions had left Asami pounced on top of Artum; straddling his lap she grabbed hold of his head and forced her lips against his. Feeling his hands slide over her hips to squeeze her shapely ass Asami moaned into his mouth and breathily murmured “mmm, that feels so good, Pirate Lord Artum.” seeing his eyes widen and feeling him pull her harder against his body Asami grinned and said “You like that baby? You like me calling you Pirate Lord Artum?” Getting a throaty growl in response Asami grinned and pulled off her shirt to expose her breasts to him. “Good, because I’m going to be screaming it later.” she promised as she pulled his head against her chest, giggling as his fur tickled her before gasping as his lips found her nipple. Seeing him start to pull off his coat Asami grasped his wrists and pushed him back against the chair. “Don’t even think about removing that coat.” she growled lustfully.
Seeing the intensity in her eyes Artum removed his hands from the leather duster and returned them to Asami’s body. Picking her up Artum carried her towards the bed intending to throw her down on top of it only for her to swing them around at the last minute so that she lay on top of him. Running her fingers through the fur on his chest Asami grinned down lewdly at him and said “I hope you don’t have any early morning appointments tomorrow. Because you’re not going to be in any condition to make them.”
Prologue|Chapter 1|Chapter 2|Chapter 3|Chapter 4|Chapter 5|Chapter 6|Epilogue