Fic: Black Hearts, Part Eight (PG)
Feb. 17th, 2007 07:58 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
jeriendhalWe love the infodumps, yes we do...
Pirates, and aliens, and tech, oh my! Miles thought to himself, considering Brushtail's words. Why is it every time there's an event that threatens the political stability of galaxy, I'm the one that has to solve it? Really, it was quite unfair. Or maybe all the other Auditors in Gregor's employ had to deal with similar ballooning crisises and they knew better than to whine about it. “Are you sure you aren't overestimating this Chan woman's vindictiveness? If she has friends of yours hostage, they're valuable negotiating levers.”
“Young man, the last time Leeza Blake encountered Mavra Chan, she ended up with a very large knife in her gut,” Brushtail said coldly. “She had, you see, dared to attempt to rescue Terinu from Chan's clutches, a boy who is sought by an absolutely disturbing number of factions, none of whom have his best interests in mind.”
Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose, gathering his thoughts. “I think you had better start from the beginning. How exactly did Humanity encounter aliens, in your universe?”
Brushtail nodded and explained, “The Varn Dominion conquered Earth in the early 21st century. They are an ancient race, who came to technological prominence well before most others in the galaxy. Every other race they encountered, they incorporated into the Dominion, by heavy persuasion if possible, by force if not. They absorb, and then demand to be worshipped as gods. My own people, the Vulpine's, worship of our Holy Den Mother was suppressed ruthlessly, until we learned to whisper our faith in the darkness that overwhelmed us.”
“I take it humans were equally hard to persuade?”
“Quite,” Brushtail agreed. “The Varn had never encountered a race with such a... plethora of differing religious practices. When told to worship the Varn exclusively, humanity resisted. Then the Dominion sent in their client races, the Creo, the Galen, the Manzi, the Maud, and yes even the Vulpine, to bomb, invade and conquer. Somewhere between a billion and a half and three billion humans died within thirty days. The rest were scattered among re-education and work camps throughout the galaxy. This proved to ultimately be the Dominion's undoing. Those humans, quite independently, then later covertly and organized, began the spread the idea of a universe without the Varn as gods. My own people were more than ready to hear it, and eager to have allies, while the rest of Varn's servitors were quite willing to be corrupted, once they realized what they could accomplish without their “gods” holding them back.”
Miles nodded. It all sounded rather like Barrayar's resistance against their supposed Cetagandan conquerers, albeit on a much larger scale. “So, the Varn were finally beaten back?”
“Oh, yes. The rebellion ultimately lasted twenty years. In the end, the allied races discovered the source of the Varn's unbelievable power, and... destroyed it.” the alien's face grew troubled.
“What, was it dangerous?”
Brushtail said reluctantly. “In a manner of speaking... Well, it's of no consequence now.” His tail wagged agitatedly, and Miles strongly suspected that this was not the full story. The Vulpine cleared his throat noisily. “In any event, that's history. For the moment I would very much like see young Miss Freeman, if you may. Not to mention be released from this cell.”
“Certainly,” Miles agreed. “You must understand, this was only done because of the extraordinary circumstances. We've never encountered a sentient alien race before.” He politely left out some of the more old-fashioned Barrayaran prejudices for now, though they were going to have be dealt with eventually. We have trouble enough with mutants in our society. Aliens, now that's going to a be a really fun thing for the Council of Counts to swallow. Hell, some of the old guard still bitch about the Imperial ban on infantcide. “In fact, we can go see her right now. I'm sure my mother has helped explain to her what she can expect.”
He keyed the cell door open with his Auditor's seal, and motioned guards to stand down as Rufus emerged from the cell. “From this point onward, Viscount Brushtail is to be considered a diplomatic envoy of the...”
“Galactic Sapiens Alliance and the Vulpine Council of Nobles,” Brustail provided smoothly.
“Thank you,” Miles said. “At any rate, he is to be extended every courtesy, along with our other guest. See that he and Miss Freeman are provided quarters to match their rank, eh?”
The station commander blinked. “Will you be giving them free run of the station, Milord Auditor?”
“Ah, no,” Miles said, then shrugged apologetically to Brushtail. “We are in an extraordinary security situation right now. As soon as possible I'll probably have you both transferred down planetside to the Viceroy's vacation residence. It's comfortable enough and isolated, so that you can remain there while Emperor Gregor and his advisors figure out how they want to play the whole thing when they annouce your presence.”
Brushtail's only reply was a non-committal, “Hrm.,” but he definitely didn't look happy. Miles let it pass, then keyed open the door to Freeman's cell.
As soon as the door slid open, Freeman leaped up from her bunk, where she'd been sitting next Miles' mother. Heedless of the guards, she ran out the door and grabbed Brushtail by the shoulders, crying out, “Rufus, get us the hell out of here! These people are crazy! She's saying the GSA doesn't even exist!”
“Now, Gwen...” Brushtail began.
“Don't 'now, Gwen' me! These whackers are cracked!.”
“Things not going well?” Miles said quietly, stepping up to his mother as Brushtail attempted to calm down his companion.
“That's putting it mildly,” Cordelia agreed. “She's having a bit of a cultural upheaval at the moment. Of course we're both having trouble reconciling our views of the universe.”
“Here's the short briefing,” Miles said, “I don't think they're even from this universe.”
“I'm way ahead of you there. About the time she started talking about Earth being invaded five hundred years ago from her perspective, I started wishing I'd paid more attention to the theoretical physics portion of my university days.”
“I'm a little more concerned about Mark and Kareen's situation. Did she tell you at all about this Mavra Chan's tendency to spear people in the gut who annoy her?”
“Yes,” Codelia said, looking grim. “Though I'm not sure how much even her supposed allies can be trusted. Take a close look at her head, just behind her left ear.”
Miles looked, not an easy task given that Gwen was at the moment crying into Brushtail's shoulder. The Vulpine brushed her hair back, patting her head, and Miles caught sight of a small silver socket, about the size of a ten groat coin, set behind her ear. “What is that? A jump implant connection?” he asked.
“No, a computer interface, if she can be believed,” Cordelia said. “Supposedly allowing her to connect her mind directly to a system and control it through thought alone.”
“It certainly looks compact,” Miles noted. Most jump pilot implants, he recalled, took up a not insignificant portion of the pilot's forebrain, resulting in a series of two to five interface studs on the pilot's skull, depending on the complexity, age, and sheer size of the ships he would be trained to handle. Which was one of the reasons the procedure was considered so hazardous and expensive, making the pilot almost literally worth his weight in gold.
“That's a sophisticated piece of tech, and someone decided a fifteen year old girl was qualified to have it installed in her skull,” she said acidly.
“I thought Beta Colony let anybody do anything, if they can prove they've got the maturity and the training,” Miles said.
“Even a Betan would have trouble with a fifteen year old getting a jump pilot implant, no matter what the child's level of maturity,” Cordelia noted. “And this girl is not mature.”
“That's not all of what's bothering you, surely.”
“Did Rufus tell you about the history of the rebellion against the Varn?” she asked.
“A little bit, yes. He mentioned that the allied races managed to locate and destroy the source of the Dominion's power.”
“Did he mention to you what that power source was?”
“Not directly, no. I thought it could wait, given everything else that's going on.”
Cordelia frowned deeply. “Apparently the Varn discovered a biological source of power, a race of beings that could produce energy with an efficiency comparable to some of the theoretical total conversion power plants that have been revived every century or so.”
Miles raised his eyebrows. “I can't believe any creature, no matter where they came from, would be capable of doing that.”
“Be that as it may, apparently they were called the Ferin. And Chan currently has the last living example of one, a boy named Terinu.”
TBC
Pirates, and aliens, and tech, oh my! Miles thought to himself, considering Brushtail's words. Why is it every time there's an event that threatens the political stability of galaxy, I'm the one that has to solve it? Really, it was quite unfair. Or maybe all the other Auditors in Gregor's employ had to deal with similar ballooning crisises and they knew better than to whine about it. “Are you sure you aren't overestimating this Chan woman's vindictiveness? If she has friends of yours hostage, they're valuable negotiating levers.”
“Young man, the last time Leeza Blake encountered Mavra Chan, she ended up with a very large knife in her gut,” Brushtail said coldly. “She had, you see, dared to attempt to rescue Terinu from Chan's clutches, a boy who is sought by an absolutely disturbing number of factions, none of whom have his best interests in mind.”
Miles rubbed the bridge of his nose, gathering his thoughts. “I think you had better start from the beginning. How exactly did Humanity encounter aliens, in your universe?”
Brushtail nodded and explained, “The Varn Dominion conquered Earth in the early 21st century. They are an ancient race, who came to technological prominence well before most others in the galaxy. Every other race they encountered, they incorporated into the Dominion, by heavy persuasion if possible, by force if not. They absorb, and then demand to be worshipped as gods. My own people, the Vulpine's, worship of our Holy Den Mother was suppressed ruthlessly, until we learned to whisper our faith in the darkness that overwhelmed us.”
“I take it humans were equally hard to persuade?”
“Quite,” Brushtail agreed. “The Varn had never encountered a race with such a... plethora of differing religious practices. When told to worship the Varn exclusively, humanity resisted. Then the Dominion sent in their client races, the Creo, the Galen, the Manzi, the Maud, and yes even the Vulpine, to bomb, invade and conquer. Somewhere between a billion and a half and three billion humans died within thirty days. The rest were scattered among re-education and work camps throughout the galaxy. This proved to ultimately be the Dominion's undoing. Those humans, quite independently, then later covertly and organized, began the spread the idea of a universe without the Varn as gods. My own people were more than ready to hear it, and eager to have allies, while the rest of Varn's servitors were quite willing to be corrupted, once they realized what they could accomplish without their “gods” holding them back.”
Miles nodded. It all sounded rather like Barrayar's resistance against their supposed Cetagandan conquerers, albeit on a much larger scale. “So, the Varn were finally beaten back?”
“Oh, yes. The rebellion ultimately lasted twenty years. In the end, the allied races discovered the source of the Varn's unbelievable power, and... destroyed it.” the alien's face grew troubled.
“What, was it dangerous?”
Brushtail said reluctantly. “In a manner of speaking... Well, it's of no consequence now.” His tail wagged agitatedly, and Miles strongly suspected that this was not the full story. The Vulpine cleared his throat noisily. “In any event, that's history. For the moment I would very much like see young Miss Freeman, if you may. Not to mention be released from this cell.”
“Certainly,” Miles agreed. “You must understand, this was only done because of the extraordinary circumstances. We've never encountered a sentient alien race before.” He politely left out some of the more old-fashioned Barrayaran prejudices for now, though they were going to have be dealt with eventually. We have trouble enough with mutants in our society. Aliens, now that's going to a be a really fun thing for the Council of Counts to swallow. Hell, some of the old guard still bitch about the Imperial ban on infantcide. “In fact, we can go see her right now. I'm sure my mother has helped explain to her what she can expect.”
He keyed the cell door open with his Auditor's seal, and motioned guards to stand down as Rufus emerged from the cell. “From this point onward, Viscount Brushtail is to be considered a diplomatic envoy of the...”
“Galactic Sapiens Alliance and the Vulpine Council of Nobles,” Brustail provided smoothly.
“Thank you,” Miles said. “At any rate, he is to be extended every courtesy, along with our other guest. See that he and Miss Freeman are provided quarters to match their rank, eh?”
The station commander blinked. “Will you be giving them free run of the station, Milord Auditor?”
“Ah, no,” Miles said, then shrugged apologetically to Brushtail. “We are in an extraordinary security situation right now. As soon as possible I'll probably have you both transferred down planetside to the Viceroy's vacation residence. It's comfortable enough and isolated, so that you can remain there while Emperor Gregor and his advisors figure out how they want to play the whole thing when they annouce your presence.”
Brushtail's only reply was a non-committal, “Hrm.,” but he definitely didn't look happy. Miles let it pass, then keyed open the door to Freeman's cell.
As soon as the door slid open, Freeman leaped up from her bunk, where she'd been sitting next Miles' mother. Heedless of the guards, she ran out the door and grabbed Brushtail by the shoulders, crying out, “Rufus, get us the hell out of here! These people are crazy! She's saying the GSA doesn't even exist!”
“Now, Gwen...” Brushtail began.
“Don't 'now, Gwen' me! These whackers are cracked!.”
“Things not going well?” Miles said quietly, stepping up to his mother as Brushtail attempted to calm down his companion.
“That's putting it mildly,” Cordelia agreed. “She's having a bit of a cultural upheaval at the moment. Of course we're both having trouble reconciling our views of the universe.”
“Here's the short briefing,” Miles said, “I don't think they're even from this universe.”
“I'm way ahead of you there. About the time she started talking about Earth being invaded five hundred years ago from her perspective, I started wishing I'd paid more attention to the theoretical physics portion of my university days.”
“I'm a little more concerned about Mark and Kareen's situation. Did she tell you at all about this Mavra Chan's tendency to spear people in the gut who annoy her?”
“Yes,” Codelia said, looking grim. “Though I'm not sure how much even her supposed allies can be trusted. Take a close look at her head, just behind her left ear.”
Miles looked, not an easy task given that Gwen was at the moment crying into Brushtail's shoulder. The Vulpine brushed her hair back, patting her head, and Miles caught sight of a small silver socket, about the size of a ten groat coin, set behind her ear. “What is that? A jump implant connection?” he asked.
“No, a computer interface, if she can be believed,” Cordelia said. “Supposedly allowing her to connect her mind directly to a system and control it through thought alone.”
“It certainly looks compact,” Miles noted. Most jump pilot implants, he recalled, took up a not insignificant portion of the pilot's forebrain, resulting in a series of two to five interface studs on the pilot's skull, depending on the complexity, age, and sheer size of the ships he would be trained to handle. Which was one of the reasons the procedure was considered so hazardous and expensive, making the pilot almost literally worth his weight in gold.
“That's a sophisticated piece of tech, and someone decided a fifteen year old girl was qualified to have it installed in her skull,” she said acidly.
“I thought Beta Colony let anybody do anything, if they can prove they've got the maturity and the training,” Miles said.
“Even a Betan would have trouble with a fifteen year old getting a jump pilot implant, no matter what the child's level of maturity,” Cordelia noted. “And this girl is not mature.”
“That's not all of what's bothering you, surely.”
“Did Rufus tell you about the history of the rebellion against the Varn?” she asked.
“A little bit, yes. He mentioned that the allied races managed to locate and destroy the source of the Dominion's power.”
“Did he mention to you what that power source was?”
“Not directly, no. I thought it could wait, given everything else that's going on.”
Cordelia frowned deeply. “Apparently the Varn discovered a biological source of power, a race of beings that could produce energy with an efficiency comparable to some of the theoretical total conversion power plants that have been revived every century or so.”
Miles raised his eyebrows. “I can't believe any creature, no matter where they came from, would be capable of doing that.”
“Be that as it may, apparently they were called the Ferin. And Chan currently has the last living example of one, a boy named Terinu.”
TBC
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Date: 2007-02-18 01:43 am (UTC)Many thanks!
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Date: 2007-02-22 06:18 am (UTC)