The duration of the warp lane transit was roughly twelve hours by Emma's internal chronometer.
Twelve hours of travel through a tunnel of compressed space that should not exist within any of the normal physics models of the universe they found it in, as the bending of space around them that her Aetherweave sense detected screamed constant warnings of unstable space. The efficiency that Cypher always showed in leading them through had never wavered as they passed through regions of violent energy oscillations that periodically knocked their transport vessel hard.
The problem was that those twelve hours had been spent by Emma attempting to get a handle on what exactly entailed traveling via a warp lane. This wasn't like traveling through space. In space travel, at least you could track your position in relation to known geography. This was something entirely different. They were traveling through space that had been compacted – or warped – in order to create shortcuts that could take months or years to traverse. The math that went into it didn't register on her expanded mind.
And well, besides the disoriented feeling of the transport itself that made her stomach turn upside down, Emma realized that there was another thing that bothered her throughout the transport. The feeling that they were being observed throughout the transport, though now they were nearing destination coordinates.
It's as if they were always being assessed by unknown evaluators.
"And now we're coming into range of the Voidscale Dominion capital city," Cypher announced from his point at the transport controls that he had been manning throughout the voyage. "Prepare yourselves for atmospheric entry. The energy levels outside will be much higher than those you experienced at the Aresian crash site."
Emma glanced at both Lucas and Aisha in the cramped passenger compartment they had shared. Gray and Chloe had stayed on the Observer to ensure the security of the ship and provide long-range support via communications. This had been a tough call strategically, but it had been important that they didn't proceed into the politically murky waters without adequate intel.
The thing about divided resources, of course, was that it provided multiple avenues of failure. In the worst-case senario where Emma's team had been captured or killed, Gray and Chloe could be left stranded and alone. And should the Observer come under attack while they were off on another adventure, Emma's team could be stranded without transport. That being said, the alternative course of action was to possess them all in hostile territory. This simply represented total failure. They had made the only decision that represented at least a chance at survival.
Their approach strategy in dealing with this diplomatic encounter would be based on Emma's analysis of what political necessity dictated. Thus, they were to avoid having the option of coming with crew strength that may be seen as a military threat. Rather, they were to target a 'minimal presence approach,' perhaps found in such settings as diplomatic meetings that demanded trust somehow conveyed by vulnerability. Hence, a separation from half of the crew may have been necessary for persons in such circumstances who may have wished to avoid immediate hostilities.
However, at the same time, they could do nothing but recognize the huge risks that come with such an approach.
The transport shattered through into normal space with a jarring transition, and Emma's breath caught at what she saw through the viewport.
The capital of the Voidscale Dominion had been an immense sight that dwarfed anything she'd been told to expect. As far from anything resembling the planetary surface-bound settlement of a normal world as it was possible to get, it's a megastructure that orbited inside what appeared to be a planetary system of rings. Except that these rings were made of hot red energy that pulsed with persistent WoodDust lightning.
And at the heart of this stormy system of rings, there existed the city itself, the point of it all. The black iron architecture, Emma observed in her heightened senses. The blacking of the structure is not done as a form of aesthetic design. True black iron that had been processed or alloyed to darkness. The spires of unstable red crystal were at aggressive angles that appeared to disregard principles of structural soundness. These were like an infection on healthy material. The red crystals looked like diseased growths.
"That's where we're going?" asked Lucas in a mixture of amazement and trepidation. His remaining hand flexed involuntarily as the Kineticvance energy around his fingers fluttered in reaction to the immense power density emanating from outside.
"The Citadel of the Scale Accord," confirmed Cypher with that calm demeanor he had sustained throughout their adventure. "It's where the ruling council that oversees this part of the Hyper-Universe resides. Presenting your argument to the council will take place shortly after your arrival and adaption to the atmosphere."
Emma initiated her personal comm channel to Gray on the Observer via her Questmind. "Gray, do you have telemetry from our present location?"
"Affirmative, we're processing your sensor data," Gray's voice echoed with a mix of distortion due to the immense distance that separated them. "Auren's working on it. Emma, those power readings from the structure in that city of yours. they're. they're worrying. The whole structure's been engineered to cultivate WoodDust mayhem from around it, as opposed to attempting to regulate it. That's Utopaan-quality magi-tech integration work. Nothing we've ever seen on a mission before."
"Noted and logged," Emma replied quietly as she observed the city getting larger as they drew closer. "Continue constant surveillance and prepare for emergency extraction should this diplomatic encounter turn south."
"Understood," Gray acknowledged. "And Emma, Chloe is. .. Chloe is not coping well with the separation. The distance is exacerbating her flashbacks of Marcus. I'm dealing with her as best I can to keep her mentally stable, but I'm not trained to deal with her level of trauma."
"Do your best with what you have, remind her why we are on this mission again, sure, everyone is still mourning Marcus but that shouldn't keep us away from what we're doing now, at the due time, we will be better." Emma said as a weight of guilt pressed against her chest. "We'll be back as soon as politically possible. Just keep her functional."
The problem was that Emma realized that her only order to Gray, to keep Chloe functional was hardly an adequate reaction to a psychological crisis. But what else should she do? They were separated by enough miles that neither of them could get to the other anytime soon. Gray had to deal with the problem as well as he could, and Emma had to hope that Chloe's training had equipped her well enough to remain functional.
The transport vessel angled towards one of the landing platforms jutting out from the citadel complex like an arm reaching out. As they slowed in controlled fashion on approach, Emma caught sight of figures lining the surface of the platform. Draconic in design based on their shapes. Although smaller than Aresia had been in her giant form. Young Dragons, she deduced as she picked up on power signatures emanating from them via her Aetherweave senses.
The thing that Emma was discovering firsthand with the Juvenile Dragons was that "smallest of them" meant "entirely relative comparison when it came to power-level strength." These guys were exuding an aura of power that dwarfed anything Emma could muster on her own. And as she noted with a kind of military trepidation, these dragons' armor was covered in spiky formations of unstable crystals that pulsed with raw power.
"Notice that they have explosive armor as integral equipment," observed Lucas. "The crystal formations on those structures house WoodDust. The least casual contact on those formations could set it off with a blast that's strong enough to destroy everything within a radius of several hundred meters," said Lucas.
"Suicide troops," Aisha continued with precise analysis as she observed the security troops through the viewport. "Or at least, entities that voluntarily put themselves at risk from self-destruction to ensure higher power output during battle. That alone tells us a great deal about the philosophical views of Voidscale Dominion on warfare. They seem to favor brute force over survival."
The transport touched down with a gentle bump that hardly registered at all, and the airlock swung open to expose the reception committee.
Six Juvenile Dragons lined up in military fashion, their explosive armor buzzing with contained power that warped the surrounding air. The black iron citadel behind them marked a monument of aggressive design, full of pointed angles that looked as if it intended to frighten rather than invite.
Cypher rose from his pilot's chair and turned to face Emma with that calm smile he'd been sporting throughout the duration of their interstellar journey. "I've brought you safely to your destination, Star-Walker. The rest is your game to play as you wish."
"Star-Walker?" Emma repeated in confusion at the unexpected title. "What does that mean?"
"A title I've heard used for those who traverse the cosmic distances between tier structures," Cypher continued to explain. "It seemed appropriate for your particular situation and circumstances."
But before Emma could take advantage of Cypher's momentary pause or form a question from her observations, he moved on ahead of them towards the airlock with the same slow pace that had been his uninterrupted refrain thus far. He stopped at the border of the transport compartment from the outside platform and turned around with a smile that only Emma found to be corny. Just-too-perfect. Just-too-crafted. Just like someone trying to pass off friendliness.
"Good luck with your presentation to the Scale Accord," he said with that unsettling pleasantness that didn't match the dangerous circumstances. Then he was suddenly gone, disappearing back into his transport vessel that lifted off and left without further fanfare.
"Well," Lucas observed as the transport vanished into the horizon,
"That's not very ominous. He leaves us stranded here with the military police and expects us to like it."
One of the dragons from the formation pushed forth, his explosive armor buzzing with an intensification of energy that implied preparation for battle. "You're the outsiders who trespassed on Ashen Protectorate territory?"
"We ourselves are Seedkeepers from lower tiers of the Cosmic Arbor," Emma replied cautiously, attempting to convey an unthreatening bearing,
"We were diverted from our course by hostile acts of sabotage against our course computers. We request an audiencia with the Scale Accord that we may tell them of our circumstances."
"The Accord is assembled and ready for your arrival," the Dragon snapped back with disdain in his voice. "Follow designated path. Do not deviate from approved route. Do not touch anything inside the citadel. Do not use power abilities without express authorization. Failure to obey these rules will result in your immediate termination without notice."
As they followed the dragon escort through the corridors of the citadel complex, Emma observed her surroundings with the awareness that comes from years of being in life-threatening circumstances.
The black iron walls were neither smooth nor polished like the decorative metals. In fact, the texture of the walls was rough and industrial-like, featuring marks of what appeared to be scratch marks and scarring from previous combat. The crimson crystals grew from the structural seams like an infection on healthy flesh, pulsing with that same unstable energy that had been integrated into the guards' armor.
But the very atmosphere felt off to Emma's heightened senses. The high density of WoodDust that pushed against her senses wasn't enough. The very nature of the energy felt off. Almost like it had an aggressive or predatory quality that pushed against her Aetherweave senses like a wild animal sensing her vulnerabilities.
"Emma," Gray's voice came through on her personal communications channel. "Auren is noting an unusual pattern in the energy signature of the city. The WoodDust here isn't simply being harvested for energy production purposes. It's being destabilized. As if they're intentionally keeping it that way instead of attempting to stabilize it."
"What kind of idiocy is that?" Emma subvocalized as she walked at the same pace behind the guards.
"It's a choice of philosophy reflecting your values as a society," Gray continued via the communication channel. "You'd want your environment to represent those same beliefs. 'I want my society to represent a world where brute strength rules over refined control. I'll prove I'm strong enough to take it by living inside that storm always.'"
Emma processed that information as they drew near to an immense set of doors at the end of the corridor. The doors were carved with reliefs of what appeared to be battle scenes from history, Dragons rending various beasts asunder in scenes of savage combat.
The doors swung open with ponderous weight to reveal a vast open-air council chamber beyond.
The hall was massive enough to house Dragons of their giant forms should they wish to appear thus. The floor of black polished stone reflected the red lightning flashing above it as the ceiling was wide open to the turbulent storms rages above. And seated in a half semicircle around a speaking platform were the representatives of the Scale Accord.
Emma guessed there were around thirty Dragons present, some of them holding on to human shapes while others had begun to undergo only partial metamorphoses. The leader of the gathering was an ancient Dragon whose scales had almost reached a greying stage. This had to be Xylar, the leader of the Accord that Cypher had told them about on the journey to this place.
However, it was another figure that drew her immediate notice and made her gasp.
Seated near the head of the Voidscale delegation was an individual who had a look that almost hurt to gaze at when viewed properly. Blue-skinned like the others from Cypher's world, humanoid in shape and design but with clothes that were unlike anything Emma had seen on her journey through various tier formations.
He wore what looked like a suit based on a basic design principle as far as fashion went, but none that had been seen on Earth's fashion traditions or cultures that Emma had experienced. The foundation layer was a tight undershirt of a darker shade of violet that shimmered with microscopic energy conduit pathways incorporated throughout the texture much like blood vessels. Then there was a suit of heavy metallic gold fibers that looked almost like melted metal that had been hardened into a seamless mass.
And on his shoulders he wore an iridescent cape that shimmered and changed colors as he moved. The cape went from blue to purple in a flow of colors. The tip of the cape unraveled into a purple electrical aura that sparkled as it discharged weak electricity.
However, it was the tattoo on his face that made Emma's blood turn cold as she recognized it.
Across his face, slashed in a deliberate pattern, was a symbol that she had only seen once before. Briefly. In the course of that violent confrontation in the warp transit. The skewed fire mark. Flames that curled in impossible directions that defied normal geometry. The Utaz mark. Emma realized it with absolute certainty. This was another being like Cypher. Different in some fashion that she had not yet been able to quite define. More hostile. More aggressive. More menacing.
"Emma," Gray's panicked voice came through on her private channel. "Auren's just decoded that figure's speech patterns from ambient pickup through your suit sensors. He's speaking Pahzua. The same signatures as the coordinate manipulation at the interception. Emma, it's him. This is the same figure who derailed us."
Emma struggled to keep her face straight as she processed that intel. Well, that's just great. One of her enemies lazing around as a realized form in front of the Scale Accord as if he were a part of the politics here.
The problem was that now your enemy wasn't just an idea. Seeing your enemy made everything very different. This wasn't just sabotage anymore. This man had his own motivations and his own modus operandi. Emma could watch him, analyze him, try to figure him out. But that meant he could watch her. Analyze her. Anticipate her.
"The outsiders have come as summoned," Xylar announced with a weary sense of familiarity that suggested he had overseen many such sessions. "Seedkeepers of lower tiers, alleging territorial trespass via sabotage as opposed to outright ineptitude. Show your evidence of trespass in order to be adjudicated by this court."
Emma moved forward on the central platform, conscious of the full attention of the room on her and her crew. "Respected representatives of the Scale Accord, I am Captain Emma Forrest of the Observer. We are Seedkeepers on an imperative mission to document the corruption by the Small Gods that has begun to pollute the reality structures at various levels of the tiers. Our course had been forcibly shifted away from our intended route by an aggressive manipulation of our coordinates by an unknown hostile force. We only request guidance on Kaelen-Thot's present whereabouts and to depart on our original mission without interference by whatever local authorities."
While Xylar could not answer her question, the blue-skinned man rose from his position in a smooth motion.
"As I may refer to the Accord with pertinent facts," he said with voice that was deceptively charming but carried undertones of calculated precision. "I am Vesper. The chief advisor to the leadership of the Voidscale Dominion. I must propose an objection to these outsiders' assessment of the nature of their circumstances."
His words were instantly translated by his Pahzua accent via Emma's Questmind interface. She could also hear the original sounds beneath the translations. The same whispers that had echoed in her coordinate manipulation, the same strange syllables that had creeped her out.
"Please elaborate on your objection for the assembly's consideration," Xylar asked with evident interest in Vesper's speech.
Vesper smiled, and Emma felt her skin crawl at the expression plastered across his face. It was cunning somehow, too perfect, like someone performing friendliness while feeling absolutely nothing genuine.
"These Seedkeepers consider themselves 'victims of circumstance,' " Vesper began with an eloquence that implied much training. "Let us look at the true course of history that these Seedkeepers have followed. They were exiled from the Arydrian system as a direct result of events that led to shifts in the existing power structure of Veilweaver Dominion. This act of the Seedkeepers' led to an overall power structure that caused chaos to sectors and displaced a mass of lives."
The cold awareness crept over Emma like ice water being poured straight into her head. He was manipulating the timeline of events that had actually occurred and twisting them into something that showed mal-intent instead of survival mechanisms.
The thing that made this form of rhetorical trickery problematic was that it rested on the principles of truth as the underlying foundation of the deception. All that Vesper had been stating had been true from a perspective of events that had transpired. They had been exiled from Arydra's planet. That was true. They had been instrumental in the fall of the Veilweaver Dominion. That was true as well. But the context in which these events were occurring had been intentionally being obscured.
"These are not harmless travelers in need of help," Vesper pressed on with that smooth charm that made Emma's face ache to punch. "No, these are agents of chaos. And the very fact that they have appeared within the Hyper-Universe, whatever the nature of that appearance may be, poses a threat to the order of nature. WoodDust philosophy states that chaos has a role within the scheme of the universe only insofar as it supports the strong and the natural order of things. The chaos that these outsiders bring benefits none but themselves."
The thing was, Emma could see the structure of his argument as he spoke it. She could see that it made sense. At the same time, it was obvious that it was manipulation. He was using the very things they'd accomplished against them. He had turned survival into an aggressive act and resourcefulness into a kind of instability. All of it being done in a way that showed he'd planned it out.
That had been a trap, Emma now realized with a sinking certainty. The interception and the crash landing were only the setup. The whole political dispute that now had them standing before the Scale Accord with neither allies nor leverage, with false charges against which they had neither the facts nor the truth on their side. Vesper had planned for them to be here.
"What's your proposed solution to this problem?" asked Xylar with mounting engagement in Vesper's rhetoric.
"The Voidscale Dominion has the solution that benefits every being's needs," Vesper continued as she turned towards Emma with those eyes that exuded such an insidious hunger. "We propose that the home world of the Seedkeepers, the planet known as 'Earth' should come under the jurisdiction of the Scale Accord's regulation. The Star-Walker and her high-tech gadgetries should come under our administrative control to ensure that disturbances are averted even before they could spark instability within the regions."
Emma's jaw clenched in anger. "You're asking us to give up our planetary sovereignty?"
"I'm providing you with a shield against your own destructive nature," Vesper continued with the unsettling smile that never quite reached his eyes. "The alternative being that you'll continue on as you always do – getting yourselves into tier levels that you're totally unfamiliar with. The consequences of instability in the Hyper Universe aren't to be underestimated either. The Voidscale Dominion has possession of a Terraburst at an output capacity of ten to the forty-eighth joules. These devices would be used as long as a galactic war brews."
He gestured towards an open wall of the chamber with a flourish of his arm, and Emma's head turned to follow his gesture with an increasingly horrified expression.
Suspended above the cityscape, and visible amidst the crimson lightning storms that raged incessantly around it, there existed a monolithic black crystal structure. Although it was at a great enough remove, Emma could discern the compacted WoodDust energy deployed within it via her Aetherweave sense. Bomb, she realized sickeningly. Weapon of mass destructive potential that hovered above a population both as a declaration of immediate terror and of long-term dominance.
"You're threatening genocide of your own population," said Emma with anger barely in check as her voice trembled.
"I'm stating political reality in terms you can understand," Vesper replied with chilling accuracy. "Power shapes outcomes in the Hyper-Universe. You simply do not possess enough power to successfully resist the voidscale dominion's needs. Hence, it's better off for your survival that you comply with them rather than risking your unwholly destructive efforts."
The thing was that Emma realized Vesper had set her a logical trap. She could either refuse his demands and thus seem to be opting for war instead of peace. She could also accept his demands and thus subject the earth to his rule. Either of these two options had an end result that favored Vesper.
This. This is what it meant to be politically skilled, Emma realized with a bitter sense of recognition. It wasn't just controlling outcomes, it was controlling the framework of options in such a way that either choice led where her enemy willed.
Xylar leaned forward as if seriously considering Vesper's point. "The Voidscale Dominion has a very convincing argument based on historical evidence. The track record of these outsiders indicates that they truly do act as destabilizing factors at a much lower rank than they should be."
Emma realized that the circumstances were slipping away from them with an irretrievable ease, like water from her hands. The Scale Accord was being won over by the corrupting influence of Vesper's reasoning and his clever manipulation of their circumstances to justify subjugation.
"I invoke the diplomatic framework of the Cosmic Arbor Prime Collective," Emma asserted authoritatively as she grasped for whatever leverage she could muster. "Your demand of the fealty of Earth violates the protocols of contact with lower-tier civilizations. Any aggressive act against my world would be an illegal act of aggression in violation of the Prime Collective regulations that govern interactions between tiers."
"The Prime Collective has no business within the Hyper-Universe," Vesper replied with a clear chuckle at her own efforts. "Their rules of engagement apply nowhere inside your tier system. You're dealing with politics of Tier 11 stature here. You're working strictly outside your prescribed level of engagement. You have none of the rights of refuge that fail to apply in your area."
The thing was that Emma knew that he was dead on in his strictly literal assessment. The Prime Collective's influence didn't extend to an area as far away from the centers of their administration as they were. However, to concede that point was to abandon the argument altogether.
"The reasoning you apply may be wicked in principle, but it's technically impeccable from the point of view of Tier 11 political precedence," Aisha whispered beside Emma. "He's precisely using the rules of the structure against us. I can see the structure that he's made. It's quite cold and impeccable in structure."
"Let him try to implement his threats by force of arm," Lucas snarled from Emma's other side, his Kinetic advantage flashing around his clenched fist. "We've been in tighter spots than this and lived. I think we should simply fight our way out."
Emma sensed the rift growing in her team's reaction to the crisis like fissures in stressed steel. Aisha found the intellectual elegance of the evil plan of her enemies fascinating despite knowing the evil behind it. Then there was Lucas who had the solution for everything by brute force and rejection of the very political structure that had been turned against them. And in the middle of it all was Emma who had to discover a third alternative that didn't as yet exist.
Vesper's smile grew as he sensed the dissent and internal strife among them. "The Scale Accord specifies that you have seventy-two hours to ponder your response to our ultimatum," he said with forced largesse that reeked of arrogance. "You will be kept within the Citadel as guests of honor with heavy security as you weigh your options. The rest of your crew and your vessel may not have direct communication with you."
"You're intentionally isolating us to remove our options on the battlefield," Emma asserted confidently.
"I am assuring security during very sensitive talks that may very well decide the future of whole industries," Vesper replied with that annoying pleasantness that made Emma grind her teeth. "You surely see the political necessity of that."
Xylar nodded in agreement with Vesper's offer. "The Accord deems the proposed timeline by Voidscale Dominion as viable. Seedkeepers, you have three days to come up with a satisfactory answer to the demands that have been put forth here today."
Before Emma could protest further or offer new arguments, the Youth Dragon guards drew closer to escort them out of the meeting chamber. She stole one final look at Vesper's face, his self-satisfied smile of a man who had successfully manipulated his enemies into putting them exactly where he wanted them.
They were led through various corridors to what were touted as guests' quarters. These were very basic and looked more like holding cells than anything that could pass as accommodation for guests. The moment the doors were closed behind them with foreboding finality, Emma switched her communications channel to Gray.
"Gray, status report on your situation," she demanded as she paced around the tight space like a caged animal. "We're monitoring your telemetry from our suits remotely," Gray replied back tightly. "Emma, trust us, Auren's findings are chilling. That Vesper guy--he's not only using the Pahzua language as the medium of communication. His very dialectical framework fits the patterns of the incident of coordinate manipulation.
This goes beyond anything that could supposedly be a co-conspirator of whoever led us off course. This IS whoever led us off course—or at least an immediate proxy of that hostile force."
"I know," Emma said with definite knowledge of their circumstances. "He's put us exactly where he wants us. Separated from you and Chloe, with security around us, and with political pressure that we can't very well countermand through normal diplomatic mechanisms."
"What's the plan for moving forward?" Gray asked. His concern was evident. Emma looked at both Lucas and Aisha. She could see the conflict on both of their faces. Lucas intended to escape by fighting. Aisha intended to apply her logical reasoning within the existing framework. She knew that it had corruption within it. Emma had realized that both of them were wrong since they wouldn't get what they had intended.
The problem was that they were caught not only physically inside these rooms but also inside the framework that Vesper had set up. He had successfully used the political system itself as a weapon by exploiting the very principles of the Scale Accord. Nothing but leverage and power mattered here. No truth. And they lacked both of these in adequate numbers.
"The plan," Emma finally said with resignation washing over her, "is that we have seventy-two hours to come up with a third alternative that doesn't actually exist. Since COMPLIANCE equals SLAVERY for Earth's population and RESISTANCE equals GENOCIDE by the power of that Terraburst weapon. These two options are literally all that Vesper has given us in his game of manipulation." She gazed at the black iron walls of their enclosure, feeling the weight of the impossible choices bearing down on her awareness.
Within this citadel, a figure who spoke in Pahzua and bore the symbol of the Utaz observed them with calculating satisfaction. He had successfully denied them access to allies by political artistry, divided them from half of their crew via security measures, and led them into a position where they had no hope of winning by clever manipulation of the Scale Accord.
The first had been the coordination of movement that had swayed their jump. The second had been the violent crash landing on Aresia's soil. The third had been Cypher's timely appearance with transport. And now, this had been the fourth.
Checkmate on the political board unless Emma could discern some angle that didn't presently exist within the framework.
Outside their confined quarters, the Voidscale Dominion capital continued its chaotic existence, crimson lightning arcing through the atmosphere like veins of barely controlled destruction that never ceased.
And above it all, that gargantuan black crystal Terraburst Bomb rested as a constant reminder of what had occurred to those who had not possessed enough power to count within the cruel order of the Hyper-Universe.
Emma sank heavily onto the limited furniture. They'd been outplayed at every turn. Each decision they'd made had been foreseen, each course of action obstructed by someone who thought three moves ahead. "We need rest," she told Lucas and Aisha quietly. "Clear heads for whatever comes next. We're of no use to anyone that tired."
But as she spoke these words, Emma knew that the answer wasn't in rest. Vesper had spun them a clever web of deceit from which they'd come willingly.