In the vast distance between stars, the enormous ships of the Second Fleet diminished to less than atomic significance, lost against the infinite black. Amunsit, senior admiral for the Second Fleet when it left Ardu, flexed her claws in the darkness. She had always liked the unrelieved black of outside and formatted her walls to show nothing but that restful black while she meditated.
Second Fleet had, in effect left on the heels of the first. Their improved drives and shielding, with the entire world focused on building better ships faster, had enabled them to certainly gain Tau. Indeed, if they had been aiming at the same target star it was entirely possible that they could almost have overtaken First Fleet.
But of course it made no sense to choose the same destination and Amunsit, as senior admiral, raised in a culture focused on nothing but the flight from destruction, had chosen a target that suited her. It was one of a dozen choices with variations in distance under fifty light years and Second Fleet had set out under her purposeful tentacle cluster. I remember leaving orbit, the planet below an ochre and muddy blue ball. The shaxzhu insisted it was never that color before, describing clear skies and water. They said that the ruthless stripping of the biosphere had made it that ugly mess. All the more pleasant to live in orbit, aboard the ships we made.
Against all established protocols, she had been senior admiral then, before she'd altered the political basis for the Council and had herself put into sleep like the shaxzhu. But unlike them, she was periodically wakened to take her proper place as senior again. She, not the few shaxzhu they had left, would be the stability of the Fleet. For those who could not bear the weight of the interstellar void, there were the holodah'kri, all loyal to Illudor of course, and her.
This was her fourth awakening and one of the younger admirals had protested her automatic assumption of senior position. Actually it is a good sign that Veelahnt challenged me. It shows that the Anaht'doh Kainat haven't grown weak and complacent. It will also give me a chance to remind everyone that I know what I'm doing. That I'm strong.
She loved this peaceful time before day cycle began, when the darkness of sleeping minds almost approached the deep outside the skin of the ship. It was a cleansing time, but a self-indulgence she only allowed herself occasionally.
From the old stories told by shaxzhu, the people had no real understanding of the vast deep between stars. The displays onboard made it clear how planet dwellers could get it so wrong. The holo-tank displays were severely out of scale—focusing inappropriately on the tiny specks of dirt circling the stars. Any display that fittingly showed the vast distances between mere planets would have to be more than two leagues long.
She shook her head at that thought and unfolded herself from the niche, stretching her arms and legs and back carefully. It was such typical shaxzhu nonsense, ignoring the real space, to focus on planets. There was a kink in her lower limb that she paused to work out before she headed out, leaving her cabin comfortingly dark.
Time to go kill Veelahnt.
"Veelahnt, this is nonsense. We grew up with the knowledge that the senior admiral was coming back. You have to withdraw your challenge." (Distress.) Her cluster partner Pahtmuran showed actual physical discomfort. He was tall and golden and if there was anything he was usually good at it was selnarm expression. She sent (Determination. Reassurance.).
"Yes, but where are our shaxzhu? Amunsit never allowed them to be revived. Who is to keep us in touch with who and what we are? Even when we find another Home, without them will we ever have our souls back? How is she damaging the existence of Illudor by decreeing that she be the only memory of Home that we have? We can't let her get away with this." (Disgust. Outrage.) Veelahnt sat calmly as she argued with him, central eye closed. "Besides, it is past time for such arguments. The time for the duel is here. I would appreciate support rather than fear," she chided him gently. (Love. Irritation.)
(Shame. Acquiescence.) "Of course." (Love. Respect.)
The entire fleet's attention was on the duel. It had been loudly proclaimed and was the latest nine-day wonder in the monotony of travel. The maatkah circle was the focus of every transmission. The machine referee differed from ancient tradition and the only two figures in the room were the combatants.
Both females radiated purpose, both tall, golden-phase Destoshaz, kneeling opposite each other in the harsh lighting. The selnarm struggle had raged for far longer than anyone expected, with parenting clusters turning up the filters high to protect the watching youngsters.
(Implacable will.)
(Active opposition.)
(Perfect Conviction.)
(Conviction.) As she felt her lesser selnarm thrust bounce, Veelahnt finally moved. She seized the two skeerba, one in each hand, leaped upward into (Flying Will), claws flashing, met by Amunsit in mid-air. One set of skeerba locked with another, two fanged jaws closing one on the other. The sound of grating tooth on tooth. The skeerba flashed free.
(Flying Will) ran into (Razor Wing) and they tumbled, breaking apart, both bleeding. Amunsit's forehead bled down her face, gory as all head wounds, Veelahnt unable to raise one arm. This match might see the winner tended by the medics, if not sent to the afterlife, too damaged to easily continue.
They stood, panting, then Veelahnt circled into (Wind Considers) and Amunsit turned slowly (Darkness Beckons).
(Shadow Dancer) fell into Amunsit's darkness. She leaned away from Veelahnt, turned on one foot. She moved in a way that no one had ever seen in maatkah before, a blur of motion where she'd been. (Space Is) Veelahnt froze, pinned on Amunsit's outstretched left hand, the skeerba driven into her chest so hard that Amunsit's own claws were sunk into the chest wall.
A sucking noise as the senior admiral pulled her hand free, coated to the elbow in Veelahnt's blood, releasing a spray of fluid. Veelahnt fell in the crumpled, emptied way of the newly shed body, the maatkah circle floor already soaking up the shed blood.
Amunsit turned to the cameras, bloody claws and weapons raised. "I am Senior. Do any challenge?" (Blood-Glee. Determination.)
In the ringing silence as everyone muffled their emotional outflow, she waited out the traditional time. The machine chimed. "Duel complete. No new challenges."
(Submission.) From the Fleet.
Amunsit placed her skeerba on the victor's patch on the wall, were they would stay, their image broadcast continuously on one channel, until she returned to clean them, and left to tidy herself up. (Satisfaction.) Only barbarians had to make the point of meeting the staff covered in a challenger's blood.
The vast hibernation chambers on the Ptahtoranknefer were visible to everyone who cared to look, mostly clusters of school-aged, being shepherded through by their teachers and mentors.
One could only see the outsides of the chambers of course. No one wished to be on display like a frozen piece of protein in the food synthesizers. Everyone knew the shaxzhu were here. Their consciences. They were in the first ranks.
Unlike the First Fleet, a larger proportion of passengers were sleepers, rather than breeding generations. A decision that Amunsit approved of. There were many more people under proper care and control that way. It was safer to be hibernating. But she never acknowledged to herself whether it was safer for them or for her.
She stood in the main gallery, on the care floor rather than the observation gallery, clusters of sleepers ranged around her like the comb of a hive, the cool hum of machinery making the image stronger. In the late-night cycle there was almost no one there, save a service tech off in the distance, checking the systems, a slow, careful rotation of maintenance so that no moment of inattention or neglect should threaten the race. The light was Sekahmant high, Sun down, all surfaces reflecting the white/murn light and stark black. She found it chill and calming. Selnarm was minimal, only the techs awake and the very distant service crews like the sleeping pulse of the ship.
Her hibernation space was off to the left, darkened now because it was empty, waiting for her to finish her work this cycle, making sure that her vision for the Race would continue on its well-ordered track. Cool, murn light enveloped her and she whispered her assurances to ears that could not hear. "You will be safe. As safe as I can make you. You are Illudor's dreams and I am the guardian at his gate."
It is my sacred trust and it is one I will not fail. "I will see you safe."
She could feel the darkness around the Second Fleet, enclosing and protecting it like the walls of a hibernation pod. Culture frozen in place until it drifted down into a life-supporting atmosphere. "I will see you safe."
Her words clicked and rustled against the cool, silent pods as brittle as insect wings, falling back to her ears like shards of crystal snow. (Certainty. Fanatical will.)