“And thus, from examination we arise and from blindness we fall. That is the will of the Greatness. Why else have we, the Echorists, the lone survivors of faith in this dark universe held strong where the other ‘believers’ have faded? By seeing reality for what it is, we make it our own. Even when the Great Observer blinks, it allows us to move across the stars – the lack of his sight is another form of gift by his greatness. The only time when mankind can be said to rule the power of sight, to collapse the waveform as others may say, is when the convergence comes. On that day, perhaps tomorrow, perhaps a millennia from now, all of humanity shall know we see the universe for what it is. And when we do it will not be gods looking down; we shall be the ones looking back up.” – Unknown preacher, 2247. Recorded sermon from a Echorist missionary on the streets of Space Sydney.

  Elias rested against the balcony outside one of Nucleus Two’s many lounge rooms as he watched another squadron of ships descend through the fog of Kral-Thul. It had been a few weeks since he had, seemingly, managed to pull Chel-Lin up out of her slump following their trip to Birkdale’s Gate, and progress on both of his projects had been moving slowly. Feeling the need to give his mind a break from the monotony of shifting through endless pages of documentation for the currently existing Tylas mechanical harness and the oddly haphazard research on the history behind S-Drive creation, he had taken leave to a rest area. He and Chel-Lin had been working well over the past month, managing to make the most of the lab space without interfering with one another too much. He had even swallowed his pride and had been requested the assistance of his Tylas partner in reaching equipment in the higher sections of the lab.

  Elias had initially come to the break room expecting to simply take in the environment and have a coffee for a bit before returning. However, the room was not quite like what he had expected. The room had been painted an off-putting sickly-white colour, closer to yellow than cream, and had most of the table space taken up by fidget toys. No kitchen area was in sight. It would appear that Lucian had been very serious when he felt that the team were mentally deficient in some way, and the very notion of being considered autistic and not simply an asshole had pushed Elias to find refuge on the outer terrace of the room. His chin supported by a fist, Elias saw the cluster of about a dozen Tylas ships dipping through the fog towards the shipyards surrounding Urestior in the distance. Satellited by dozens of smaller asteroids, the Tylas had seen fit to use them as construction facilities, based on the sparse details he could make out.

  Watching the strange, starfish shaped crafts, edges rimmed with thin laser weaponry and white hulls adorned with blotched patches of colour, he was beginning to confirm his notion that the Bubble Field device had to be mounted at the back half of their structure, where the Tylas tended to place their engines. Based on his illegitimately acquired documents, the power draw of the Bubble drive was exponentially higher than that of the Schr?dinger-Drive, to the point of absurdity. No wonder Chel-Lin had chided humanity for continuing to use with boiling water for energy production; the Tylas must have spent eons working around such an absurd power draw for their ships.

  As the last of the odd-looking ships docked, Elias heard the clattering of claws on the titled floor of the balcony behind. Turning, he saw Dr Rannos as he approached. The little Cambiar wore a wide grin, a look which tended to appear somewhat unsettling when paired with the aliens’ big maw and sharp teeth. Elias made himself look as scruffy as possible on short notice before hunching over.

  “Ah, Dr Rannos, fancy seeing you here,” Elias said.

  “Dr Savage!” Rannos chattered in his slightly raspy voice. “Please, don’t let me distract you.”

  “I wasn’t exactly doing much, sir. Just checking out Urestior. Do you think we’ll get the chance to visit during the Symposium?”

  Rannos tilted his head in thought as he leant against the rail next to Elias.

  “Well, I have only had the pleasure of seeing the city from the inside once during the initial proposal of this whole project, and the reactions of the locals made me think it would be my last. That being said, times are changing. Though the Tylas may wish to bury their heads in the sand, the future will come, and at some point they will be forced, either from internal or external pressure to open up to the greater galaxy. Whether it will be alongside the IGS in a few months’ time, or in a decade is up to them. I just hope they make the right choice.”

  “I hope so, too. If I may ask, sir, what makes you want to fight so hard for this Symposium? I don’t wish to impose but…?”

  Rannos surveyed Elias, the black marbles shielded behind the quadruped’s glassy visor twitching and scanning over every detail of his face. The Cambiar had seemed rather amiable in their meeting so far, but Elias had never dug deep into his supervisor’s motivations. Then, Rannos gave another grin before chuckling.

  “Please Elias, as much as I am one of the project leads for this whole plan, there’s no need to worry about formalities. Frankly, I was a little worried about how approachable you would be!”

  “Oh? And what’s that supposed to mean?”

  “Well, from the few chats I had with your father he seemed…”

  “Difficult?” Elias arched a brow.

  “Intense is how I would have put it were I trying to be diplomatic, but yes.”

  “Believe me, there’s no need for friendly descriptions when it comes to Kantor.” Elias couldn’t help but sneer.

  Rannos sighed, “I suppose. I must say, I did have a different idea in mind when I first heard of humanity’s concept of familial bonds.”

  “How so? That all parents and their kids would get on well, no matter what?”

  “Hmm, something like that. At the very least, I hoped offspring would resemble their parents closer in personality than they do in looks.” Rannos tapped the rail with a claw. “You see, I came a long, long way before I got my first sighting of a human. The rumours of how humankind act grow increasingly unrealistic as they spread from your species territory.”

  “Dr Rannos,” Elias began. “Were you from the Out-Han? I had assumed most Cambiar involved with any CCH dealings would be from the Alliance, considering they are the closest tied to the conglomerates of any of the Cambiar nations, but I figured I should ask.”

  Truthfully, never believed Rannos came from the Out-Han Alliance. He seemed more weathered than most of the stary eyed Cambiar tourists that Elias had the pleasure of meeting.

  Rannos met his look and gave a nod. “Ah, I see you figured that out. No, I am not from the Out-Han. I came from stars beyond their lands, from a different shard of the network that once housed all of our people. That single state, never given a name, was where we all belonged before we awoke to the possibility of individual thought, you see.”

  This story originates from Royal Road. Ensure the author gets the support they deserve by reading it there.

  “I have read of such an event. The Great Awakening, right?”

  “A little lofty of a title in my opinion, but yes. I came from a group that would roughly translate as ‘Claw-On-Stone’ but would be pronounced in my tongue as…” Rannos released a harsh sounding vocalisation, utilising all three of his vocal mouthparts. “A bit guttural of a name, but it worked for our needs. When we heard news of humanity’s existence, most of my people were rather uninterested. I, however, did everything in my power to reach Titanlock in less than half a year - hiding on Yur-Ist ships as a stowaway, claiming to be a private ambassador to the Silver Domain corporation, and even participating in a cage fight in a Doctrine-funded arena to gain the finances needed for the last leg of my journey.”

  Rannos looked in the far distance as he recalled his travels. Elias had been surprised by a few of his fellow team members so far, but knowing the little, unassuming alien before him had gone toe to toe with some clan warrior left him gawking.

  “You’re serious?” Elias asked.

  “Indeed. I finally made it to the conglomerates a little worse for wear, but alive. I knew that I had come too far to let my dreams of seeing the galaxy working together as one fail and spent months preparing for this position. That, and my extensive knowledge on mining and excavation gave me some bargaining power with GaltCorp.”

  “Well, they do like money, and minerals are always in demand.” Elias thought for a moment. “So, you know about mining?”

  “You could say I wrote the book on mining for my people! After all, I am something of a scientist myself.”

  “If you don’t mind me asking, sir, how old are you exactly?”

  “Hmm, things get a bit fuzzy after a while, but if I were to put it in human years…” Rannos muttered aloud as he counted on his fingers. “About three hundred and fifty two?”

  Holy shit. “Wha- Rannos, you’re seriously that old?”

  “It may sound like a lot to you, but remember that there are some Tylas in those spires there that are over twice my age.”

  “Jesus… Wait, so you saw the Great Awakening yourself?”

  “It was rather strange, coming to sentience in real time, but I have to say the name is a bit overdramatic. That being said, I can’t help but feel a little pride being so close to the where it all started.”

  “What?”

  “Hmm? Oh, never mind me. Just a silly theory I have, forget I said anything.”

  The pair sat in silence for a moment, Rannos checking his comm-device for a moment, before Elias broke the stillness.

  “Well, I didn’t expect you to say all of that, sir. Didn’t have my boss winning a cage fight on my bingo card this year. Even with all of that, though, how the hell did you even get the Tylas to agree to this? Every singl- Almost every Tylas I’ve met of aren’t the greatest fan of anything with legs, so how did you rope them into building all of this?”

  “Company policy dictates that such matters should be kept purely confidential. However…” Rannos looked around before giving a dip with his eye stalks behind his visor - an approximation of a wink. “There are a time and place for company matters, and I don’t see a meeting room around us. So, which part do you want to hear – how we initially got them to take the bait, or how we’ve kept them on the line?”

  “I’m interested in hearing how you got them roped into this in the first place. How the hell did GaltCorp even bring these snobby jellyfish to the table?”

  Elias leant in to focus on every word. If nothing else, he was hoping to hear what cards Kantor had been willing to lay down so that the Tylas would play the megacorps game.

  “You see, within the Baraldian Heralds there is a structured hierarchy to their society that gives value to specific people in certain roles. At the bottom are those more physically involved with work – those involved in manufacturing or maintenance. Above them are those involved with military, sitting just below the politicians, researchers and bureaucrats. Finally, at the peak lie those involved with the Baraldian church, though they would deny the existence of any such privileges that come with their roles. Though those towards the top of the pecking order have the most sway and power within society, they still rely on those beneath them.”

  “That doesn’t sound too different from the CCH to be honest. Shit on the little guys at the bottom of the ladder long enough, and they’ll start sawing it in half.”

  “A fair analogy,” Rannos said. “Though I fear for that balance the day when those atop the ladder finally own all the saws. Regardless, much like the CCH, there are still those with significant sway in the lower strata. Case in point, a number of manufacturers, militarists and even political factions were still apprehensive about working with our species, but were able to put aside those concerns for the sake of pulling control away from those superior in influence.”

  “But surely the top dogs still had to sign off on everything?” Elias had a hard time picturing people like Chel-Lin’s father giving the go ahead for the IGS. In fact, it sounded like he wanted the exact opposite. “And what about their priests, or whatever equivalent they have? Pretty sure our very existence kind of goes against their whole belief system, seeing as their god didn’t mention us, so what made them change their mind?”

  “They did, but not willingly. It was only once some… material that would be viewed rather poorly by their public was gathered that some of the officials finally gave in. Others within the Heralds saw the shift in stance towards foreign policy and felt switching sides was the best move.”

  “That… makes sense.”

  Elias wondered what sort of blackmail material you could even get on the Tylas. Did they have illicit affairs? Strange kinks? A history of using slurs in online gaming? Maybe it was better not to probe. If they were as free with using slurs as Chel-Lin was, their list of insults were probably a mile long and magnitudes more offensive.

  “So, it took all of that to agree to the IGS?”

  “Yes, but I certainly didn’t do it alone. We had people like Kantor, Charles Monroe, the head of the board for GaltCorp, and Mr Valentari helping us every step of the way. Director Monroe himself was particularly excited to make a move following the collapse of Henry and Huell Incorporated, so he helped provide a lot of the funding. And the other corporations did assist, as they too will make use of the Heralds if things go well. Of course, we also had assistance from the-“

  Rannos cut himself off. To Elias’ eyes, his bone-white skin paled even lighter. Elias could feel he had been only a few words away from giving something rather damning away.

  “Uh, you good?” Elias asked.

  “Apologies. Yes, I’m fine. Probably best we move onto other topics, I’m afraid the years have made my lips rather loose.”

  “Then let’s try and keep them as tight as possible for now,” Elias said. “Do you fancy seeing the others? I’m heading to Dr Dallas and Dr Warnick’s labs to try and organise something.”

  “Thank you, but I must dash off,” Rannos replied, stepping away from the balcony with a sigh. “The other wings still need to be inspected. I must say, for the smallest team by far, you four have still been able to produce a significant amount of data leading up to our first checkpoint meeting.”

  The first checkpoint was indeed coming up sooner than Elias had hoped. He had laid most of the groundwork for his fake project, with the initial outline for the mixed species harness coming along nicely. Unfortunately, his true project had been much harder to make progress on. Even with a mind like his own, it had still been difficult to make a dent in the amount of initial understanding he needed to put his knowledge into practice. Still, Elias hoped the activity he had prepared for that night would help ease his teammates stress.

  “Well, what can I say? Sometimes it’s the quality of the work, not quantity that counts, but having a lot to show off isn’t bad either.” Elias shrugged as the two said their farewells.

  Rannos skittered back through the room, pausing to look at one of the fidget toys before trying, and failing, to subtly store one in his lab coat. He then left the room, tail wagging behind him. Snickering to himself, Elias weighed up what Rannos had told him. Until their conversation, Elias had felt that whilst a few good studies could come from the Symposium, the chance of any serious change in diplomacy between the Tylas and the other races of the galaxy was slim. Now, though? If enough of the less vocal but still important individuals at the lower end of their society were willing to give it a shot, then perhaps not all hope was lost.

  In the end, Elias had little sway over what the Tylas might think of the IGS. At the moment, he had to see if his favourite chatterbox and glory hound scientists were willing to try something different for that evening. No matter what, he would be dragging Chel-Lin along as well.