View source for Sovereigns game


Reset. Where are we even going with this?

== 0 ==

Instantiate. The wide room. The grand hall. Visitors Center to the right, gift shop attached. Some cafes, probably; this is civilisation, after all. Hallways leading off. Wide doors. Staircases. The entire second floor is a conference venue. This is the base floor of the Atlas Tower of the Magi. There are five towers in total, rising above the great city covering the plains, between the forested mountains. Seres, Gorgon, Torrent, Calcutta, and at their center, Atlas, the main one. The tall one. There are other floors below this, but they are not typically open to the public. The floors above vary. Most of the libraries have hours. The restaurants, the overlooks, the gardens, these are all open when they are open. Anyone could probably walk into one of the meditation chambers at any time, if only they knew where they were going, and as long as they didn't make trouble, nobody would likely mind.

Nissa is in the base now, getting coffee, or whatever their local equivalent is. Whatever ''her'' equivalent is. Something sticky and unpronounceable. Boba. She's that kind of student, not that most of the folk around her would take her for a student. She's not really dressed like one, but nor is she dressed like a master. Mostly she's just dressed like a random person, surrounded by random people, and chatter filling the space.

She finds a table, sits down, pulls out a tablet, pulls up some spells. Their forms hover over the table, the accompanying text appearing on air, backed in opaque white. She reads them carefully, mouthing the forms, trying to shape them in her mind. There are rooms set aside for exactly this higher up. Quiet rooms. Fireproof rooms. Rooms with serene views and carefully constructed soundtracks and no distractions, painstakingly designed to facilitate learning and retention.

Nissa doesn't want facilitation. She wants the real world. She wants to learn in the same chaos and cacophony she'll be using it in. She wants her damn boba.

Her fingers spark, and she shakes it off onto the table. That wasn't even remotely related to the spell she was trying to do. She peers at the notes, flicking through the pages - has she stumbled upon something else, perhaps?

The problem is, Nissa is brilliant. Among the Magi, she's considered a prodigy, a sensitivity to the Source unlike anything they've seen before. But it's not true. She might be good, rather better than average, even, but her skill is not talent, and she isn't some sort of magical nexus. It's all skill, trained by an intellect ever seeking answers, with a focus born of practice and discipline. If it were the same discipline employed by the Magi, it would be fine. But it isn't. She made it all up as she went, following the mathematical patterns of the physics of the rest of the universe, assuming there would be parallels with the magic of the Source itself.

And, though she doesn't fully understand it yet, she was right.



Instantiate. Elsewhere. Ciphreya: another city, another world, another galaxy. Civilised, but differently. This is much smaller, and isolate. A sanctuary in crystalline architecture, away from the troubles of the rest of the universe. They consider themselves the apex of development, here, the heart of a monumental organisation. They're right, to a point. Their influence is huge, and spans across the local clusters. Beyond that point, they're not so right. It's too far away. They don't even know what's out there. The void. The abyss. Dark beyond of the known universe. Other civilisations, perhaps, with other apexes. They haven't made contact, and the gods have been vague to a fault.

But their gods back them. Their gods are among them. That makes it all right. Right?

Rahah doesn't think so. She wants everyone to just leave her alone, let her grow up, play, make friends and be ridiculous. She's only six. She's a god, or at least the reincarnation of one, or so everyone keeps insisting. She doesn't want to be a god. She wants to be normal.

She's incarnated as a Deresi, but passes for Nissai: an elf apparently in her adolescence, adult proportions, but lanky, short. Her control over her magic betrays her most of all. A teenager would be able to cast a light without setting it on fire. A teenager would actually know how to cast in the first place. But everything Rahah tries comes out wrong. She can't shape the spells at all. Mostly she can do tricks with force, pushing and pulling at a distance. Sometimes she manages to control the flow of raw energy: not magical, but kinetic, thermal, magnetic, or perhaps simply the very processes behind them. There's no shaping this.

So mostly she doesn't. She pretends not even to be a caster at all. It's easier than to admit the truth: as Deresi, her connection to the Source is different. She is her own source, her own nexus. And so the general hatred and mistrust of Deresi passes her by, but so, too, do opportunities. Opportunities to learn and grow. Opportunities to understand.



The Source. One of the lingering mysteries of the universe. Every great civilisation has, if they progressed far enough, tried to tap into it at some point on a global scale. It is, after all, a source of power, a connection between worlds, the exception that makes Darstaddian physics work. Like the ambient matter that holds galaxies together, it is the ambient energy that pulls all forces together, and so it is used to power entire civilisations, to reinvent travel, to rebuild the foundation of the very concept of existence. The downfall of many, in time, has been taking this too far. The cenva, the first ones, remade their very selves upon this, and thus unmade themselves. The gods were reborn of these fragments. The Artiil, the humans, launched themselves into the cosmos on the tails of their own destruction, losing their homeworld, but not, at least, their own being.

To engineers and architects, it is but another tool, another constraint, to use and work around.

To casters, those born with an innate sensitivity who choose to pursue its more personal application, or who have it engineered into them later in life, it is a wellspring of power and madness. Most remain at the surface, only pulling small amounts of power, for simple things: to ease the day to day, complement other skills, perform some tricks, but stick to the known, written spells, and never go too far. But some delve deeper. The madmen, the visionaries, the sorcerers. These are inevitably the pioneers, those who discover its applications, who write up the theorems that form the basis for new spells, and for the more global applications of the civilisations themselves. Some of them become gods. Many destroy themselves. Others skirt disaster at every new reach, only to find themselves changed no matter how careful they were, for it always changes its users, the more so the deeper, the darker, they go.

There are speculations as to how deep it goes. There are speculations as to there being another side: a dark side, an existence far stranger, that mirrors our own, perhaps, or something else entirely. But these are only speculations. There are no hypotheses, not that can be tested.

Even the gods don't know, save, perhaps, for one. The biggest one of all. The Spirit of the Universe. She's not even a god anymore, not really, but she was, once. Long ago. Before she changed. Maybe, just maybe, she reached that other, darker, side. Maybe this was what changed her. The Deathgods, after all, call her their ''Dark'' Sister. But she doesn't speak with mortals. She doesn't even speak with most gods anymore. The Deathgods act as her liaisons on the rare occasion she deems anything worth communicating, and she doesn't accept questions.



The man sits down across from her, and Nissa looks up in surprise. It's Damorin, one of the Magi masters. "I missed you today," he says. "You need to practise."

"I do practise," Nissa replies. "I'm practising right now."

"What?" Damorin asks. "The lessons give structure. If you don't practise the key foundations..."

"Your key foundations don't work," Nissa says, cutting him off. "There's structure here, but it's all arbitrary anyway. Isn't it more important that I have a structure, rather than conflicting it with contradictory bases?"

"You're a Magus," Damorin says. "You can't just make up your own basis. It doesn't work that way."

Nissa stares at him, dropping a half-shaped spell in a small flash of colour. She doesn't know what to say to this. She's already said too much. Unaffiliated magic is illegal in the Commonwealth, but it's hardly safe in the Union, either, the neighbouring militaristic state with which an uneasy truce is maintained purely out of necessity: an all-out war would devastate both parties, and leave the galaxy in ruins. So, being from the Commonwealth herself, she'd joined the Magi, the Commonwealth mages, and tried to get along with their particular approach. She'd thought it'd be freeing, to openly practice magic. Instead she'd found it utterly stifling.

"What I mean to say is I can do all that already!" Nissa says, feigning incredulity. "Why do I need to go to these lessons? They're pointless."

"Really?" Damorin asks. "Show me a common star."

Nissa holds up her hand and a pinpoint of light appears above it.

Damorin nods. "Make a purification."

Nissa gives him a slightly surprised look, and then pulls up the spell on her tablet, before shaping it out, mostly according to the instructions, adapting it slightly to her own manner of casting. She drops it over the table, and it immediately sparkles, clean.

"You need to know the spells," Damorin says, frowning. "That won't work in the field."

Nissa tries to hide her own surprise, and apparently pulls it off. He hadn't noticed the difference. Had he? "Why would I need to clean something on the spot without time to look it up?" she asks. "What possible situation could mandate that?" What she also doesn't mention is that she already has another cleaning spell that she knows well - a much less pristine version with a more variable scope. Hers looks natural, unlike this. Like cleaning by hand, it takes multiple passes, multiple castings, to make anything sparkle. She uses it daily when no one's looking, to avoid having to clean things up by hand.

"I can think of a few," Damorin says.

"Okay, fine," Nissa says. "What do you want from me?"

"Come to the lessons," Damorin says. "Practice with us, and complete your basic training. You're young yet, but with patience you'll get the independence you crave."

"Okay," Nissa says. She's not as young as they think, but what they'll forgive of a twelve-year-old is far more than they might of seventeen. And she doesn't look her age. She'd always resented this, when she lived on her own. Now, though, here, it's her armour, her saving grace whenever she goes too far, says the wrong thing. She's just twelve. Doesn't know what she's talking about. That's all there is to it.

Damorin smiles.



Twenty yaks. Twenty yaks had stampeded the corridor when they opened the portal. Rahah stares at the mess below, dumbfounded. She's perched atop a doorframe, clinging to a bit of wall trim. This wasn't what she'd expected. Jerindal, hanging from a light fixture further down, also stares. This wasn't what he'd expected, either.

Two yaks, all that's left, stand around amidst the mess. They forage a bit at it. They chew on the potted plants.

Two yaks is enough for the two young elves to remain clinging to their perches above them, afraid to make a sound.

The much older elven man who marches in a moment after, however, is not afraid to speak at all. "What, in all the worlds, happened here?" he demands loudly.

The two yaks stop munching to watch him yakily.

"Don't!" Jerindal squeaks. "You'll spook them again!"

"Really? That's all you have to say for yourself?" the man says. "And you, Sovereign," he goes on, turning on Rahah. "I would have expected better of you."

"Er, better than what, exactly?" she asks. "This was all an accident."

"Yeah, dad, this really wasn't what we were trying to do." Jerindal says.

"So what exactly ''were'' you trying to do?" Jerindal's dad asks.

"Er," Jerindal says, starting to panic. "You know. About that? Yes."

"Leave," Rahah says.

"Leave?" Jerindal's dad asks.

"Leave Ciphreya," Rahah says. "We were trying to get away. I mean, I was. Trying to get out of here. Anywhere but here. So we opened a portal. Jerindal was helping me because he's really good with magic, but it's not his fault. I talked him into it. It just... it worked, sort of, but then a herd of yaks came out and... um..." she shrugs blankly, looking sheepish, trying to cover the lie. Jerindal is basically the only friend she has. He'd insisted on going with her, just so she wouldn't be entirely alone, even though he was actually fairly happy here. And she'd needed it enough to not say no. "It didn't really... work?" she finishes, lamely.

Jerindal's dad stares at her. "Jerindal," he says, still looking at Rahah. "Room. Now."

Jerindal drops off the light fixture and runs away, giving the yaks a wide berth.

Rahah drops down as well. She stares up at Jerindal's dad defiantly, mostly just because she is so short, and that's the easiest way to look when looking up without looking totally pathetic.

His name is Jerdalim. He's a member of the Hadris Citheldryn Arbitration Committee, the closest thing they have to a ruling body here. Or the closest thing in lieu of her, the supposed Sovereign. Not that they'd listen to a child. Maybe when she grows up they will, but somehow, naggingly, she suspects they'll to find a way around it then, too. It's been a very long time since the god has ruled here, and it's a far different organisation now.

"Why?" he asks.

"Because it's absolutely stifling here!" she says. "I can't do anything, I can't have friends, whenever anything goes wrong it's always their fault and they take the fall, even when it's not! I'm the sovereign, the god, so I have to be perfect, and yet I'm a child and you won't even listen to me or let me do anything or anything! You can't even make up your stupid minds!"

"That's not how it is at all," Jerdalim says. "You just need to grow up, that's all."

"You won't let me grow up!" she yells.

Jerdalim gives her a somewhat confused look, and starts to say something.

Rahah turns and runs away.

It's the wrong way. The way the rest of the yaks went, full of damage... and yaks. But she keeps going anyway, stubborn anger and fear and confusion driving her on as they hop away in surprise at the tiny ball of bushy hair and tears rushing past them. Why did she actually say all that? She doesn't know. She does want to get away, of course, but it's not that important, is it? They respect her so little already, and she knows this won't help, but... but she doesn't even know. It's all a mess, her whole life, and she doesn't know how to deal with any of it. She doesn't even have a dad, like Jerindal does. He lost his mother when he was very small, but she'd never had any parents at all. Been born from a seed of her own creation, she was told. Something she'd set up in a previous life.

She doesn't remember any of it. Previous lives, being a god, any of it. And yet that is the entire cause of everything wrong now - her past selves setting it all up for this - and so she resents them terribly. That they were all ''her'' only makes it that much worse, somehow.

She curls up in a dark corner, past the destruction and yaks, past the people going on about their lives as they pass from place to place, and winds up amidst the dust of the empty rooms beyond. She cries into her knees, not knowing what else to do.



The Arbitration Committee of the Hadris Citheldryn does more than arbitrate. They also review proposals, among other, even more boring, tasks. Most of the proposals up for consideration now are fairly standard, and this one, submitted by a member they don't know, probably some recruit from the galaxy of Edo itself, fits right in with the rest.

The proposal is essentially thus: establish formal diplomatic relations with the Magi of the Edo Commonwealth. It makes some solid points. The Magi are organised, and generally peaceful, unlike their Union counterparts, a loose consortium of warring warlocks who basically run the Union. The Magi safeguard various powerful artefacts, and it would be valuable to ensure these artefacts remain in good hands. The Magi are relatively enlightened, unlike most of the very competitive factions even in the Commonwealth itself. It would be worthwhile to share knowledge and practices, and learn from each other. There's little to lose from a diplomatic mission as a cover for a more thorough evaluation.

The committee deliberates. They don't bother to meet up, just read through it as they get to it and submit their comments online, replying to each other as need be. Standard practice. Consensus is established tricklingly, until nobody has anything more to add, and the proposal is put in the approved queue.



Rahah gets a notification, and pulls it up warily on her handheld. Strangely, it's nothing bad. A proposal she submitted almost a year ago under another name, almost as a joke, just to see what would happen, has been approved.

She stares at it blankly and wipes her eyes, the glow of her handheld illuminating her face, and the dust, and the empty room around her. She hadn't expected this. And yet she'd had a plan with it, sort of. She'd chosen Edo specifically: it was a big galaxy, heavily populated, ''not'' of the elven worlds, and not Artiilie, and yet full of magic. Somewhere, perhaps, that she could disappear. Or be someone else. Or... what? She doesn't remember. It was a half-baked plan from the start, and now it's almost entirely gone.

She marks the proposal for further notifications. Now that the committee has apparently finally looked at it, something should happen fairly soon.

== 1 ==

Nissa attends the lessons, even the ones conducted by the masters she ''really'' doesn't like, and goes through the motions, casting the spells. She doesn't even try to do as the masters instruct anymore, simply casting them all her own way, translating them to her own understanding of magic, but even still, none of the Magi seem to notice the difference. She's not sure why: she can see it plain as day. But they simply applaud her apparent talent and tell the others to look at how she's doing it, follow her lead.

And it seems to work. Somehow some of the other students ''are'' learning by watching her. Or do they only think they are, and this is still enough to inspire them to succeed regardless? A sort of magical placebo effect? Nissa isn't really sure, but the Magi approach does seem very much based in feeling, so it would make sense. Hers is more about mapping the perceptions to predictable patterns, like the mathematics of music, playing out in impeccable beauty.

It's in her physics classes that they show surprise. She's very good, a very quick study. She's doing her best to not betray the fact that she knows it all already, of course, but this is very basic stuff. Mechanics. Simple energy. Introductory fields. She wiles away her time mapping more complex concepts back to the Source, and the Source to the very same mathematics as the rest, and sometimes they glance over her shoulder before she realises, and see the equations on her screen. Usually she's just staring blankly, thinking, and so they take the blank stare to mean she doesn't actually know what she's looking at and ignore it. But then someone catches her making some connection, writing down a counterpoint or progression, finishing a proof.

Nissa isn't even sure what it's for. She just followed the maths to the logical conclusion, intending to test it out later. She's just about to go back to staring blankly at it when she realises she is being watched, someone is standing over her, and she looks back suddenly, up.

Master Callas is staring down at her screen in wonderment. "I don't believe it," he whispers. "You've solved Alacro's Theorem."

"Huh?" Nissa says blankly. She has, genuinely, no idea what he's talking about, but then she runs a search and pulls up the theorem itself. It's familiar, all right. Not exactly what she was working on, but very close. This isn't something she'd counted on at all, someone recognising what she was doing.

"Do you mean to say," Callas says slowly, "that you came up with all of that, start to end, on your own?"

"Uh," Nissa says, pulling up her version again. "I just found this on an image board. It's not even the same..." She starts to point to one of the differing bits and then stops, realising her mistake, as usual, all too late. "Oh."

He's not even looking at her tablet anymore, just her. "Come with me," Callas says.

The rest of the class is staring, watching, trying to figure out what's going on. They're oddly quiet.

Nissa gets up, follows him. The class watches in utter bemusement as they leave, tense with anticipation.

He takes her to his office. "All right," he says. "Let's put it up on the board."

Nissa glances between the board and her tablet, considering how best to connect them, and then doesn't. There's something amiss with this, something niggling that she can't quite place. She grabs a stylus instead, and starts rewriting it out, referencing the tablet, trying to figure it out as she goes.

It's fairly normal, as far as she can tell. Straight maths, mapping into the Source.

And then it occurs to her, all at once, why all their science is stuck. Why the stagnation, why none of the maths have moved on past a point, for so long: that's where the theorem stopped. It's leaving out the Source. They are leaving it out of all of it. Magic is as much a part of mathematics as force or energy, and yet nobody is using it.

She's quick enough to not say anything, maintaining her blank expression, just pausing as she goes, glancing back up at what she's already written. There's no way she could be the first person in a thousand years to realise this. Not in a galaxy this big. Not on both sides of the divide. What happened to all the others?!

She writes out the next line, changing one key thing from the proof in her notes.

She changes the following line to be a progression from that, and continues on, propagating the change through the rest of it, until she gets to the end, and closes the proof. She steps back, pressing her tablet to her chest, screen inward.

This doesn't make any sense. It's utterly insane. And yet that feeling in her gut, that great seeping dread, it tells her that she's right, against all logic.

Callas nods, reading through it, and then just stops. "Wait," he says. "How'd you get this? From Sade's induction to..." he points between the previous line and the one Nissa had changed. "That's not right."

"Er," Nissa says, trying to sound as clueless as possible, "you can't do that?"

"No," Callas sighs, but he chuckles regardless. "Still, this is very good, especially at your age."

"So what... can you do there?" Nissa asks.

Callas write out another line, slightly different from the changed line, and then just stops. "That's it. That's all you can do. That's the problem," he says. His replacement matches her original. Except unlike his, hers had continued right on from there.

"Oh," Nissa says. Apparently she'd only barely caught it in time. Or something. In time for what, though, really? What is the deal with that feeling, that terrible dread about all of this?

The Magi talk about following their feelings often, speaking of the Source guiding them, and up until now Nissa has always just sort of nodded along, not really understanding, figuring it went hand-in-hand with their weird casting in general. But is this what they meant? Is the Source guiding her now, keeping her away from something terrible?

She gives Callas an uncertain look, masking her fear in confusion.

He shrugs. "We should get you some proper maths classes," he says.

They get back, only to find the rest of the class gone.

"I suppose this is why you don't leave a pack of twelve-year-olds unattended," Callas says.

"Well, not without an explanation," Nissa says.

"Relax, child," he tells her. "I got overly excited, that's all. You didn't do anything wrong."

Nissa isn't so sure about that. She isn't so sure at all.



A call for participation is announced, like any other. Diplomatic mission to the Magi of Edo. Primary roles: two ambassadors, three assistants, five guards. Secondary role for all: investigation. Rahah signs up as a guard, under yet another name, this one with agent clearance. She has a knack for names, and the access required to add them. She covers it up by adding a bunch of others, too, going through the request queues and performing evaluations like it's all totally normal. The guidelines are straight-forward enough. She's pretty sure she's doing the real ones right. Nobody has sent her anything complaining, or done any mass reverts.

She changes her form for the occasion, pushing herself to the limits of her shapeshifting abilities, which are, admittedly, pretty limited. She changes her facial structure as much as she can, which turns out to be slightly, makes her skin paler, her hair sleek and black and long, no longer the bushy brown mess that had stood out so much. The addition of horns and a tail mark her as Unezca now, a demonic elf, and the deep blue scales pointing her arms and legs and framing her face only solidify the look. She's still short, a patent midget, but a pair of hoverskate boots adds a few inches, even when they're turned off. On, levitating her rather off the ground, they add well over a foot.

She won't be able to change her form again for a few weeks, at best. But it should be enough. Now, with her boots and black Ciphreyan guard uniform, weapons on her thighs, hair pulled back in a tight knot and swinging braid, she doesn't even recognise her own reflection. The girl in the mirror, she looks too adept, too organised. Too old.

"Oh, I am surely mad," she tells herself, plonking her mask on top of her head. Her voice is different, too, deeper, raspier, changed with the rest. It's all little things, really. Easy things, adding up.

She puts on a shield, affixing the small blue gem to her forehead, right above her brows, like a piece of jewellery, and a faint glow spreads over her form before disappearing. It doesn't look utilitarian, but it is. That the colour of the gem perfectly matches her scales is entirely by design.

She goes to the hangar, meets the rest of the party at the ship, kind of hanging behind the bulk of the group, not trying to draw attention. Not show her guilt. She's real. Of course she is.

Stuff is coordinated. The woman in charge gets progressively more tired-sounding as she directs folks about, and Rahah realises it's Tersulles, a member of the Arbitration Committee.

"Okay, okay, fine," Tersulles says loudly, "everyone just stop."

Everyone just sort of stops, waiting for Tersulles to do something else. She takes the opportunity to count heads, winds up short, looks a bit concerned, and then comes around and spots Rahah.

"Oh, stars, would you not stand in back?" she says exasperatedly. 

"Sorry!" Rahah says.

"Is this your first mission?" Tersulles asks, marginally more kindly.

"Er, yeah," Rahah says.

Tersulles turns back to the rest of the group. "Anyone else new too?"

"Is that a problem?" a guy says.

"No, just... who are you?" Tersulles asks, shooing people out of the way. 

The guy, now visible, waves.

"Right," she says. "You two, make a note. If we ever pair off, don't pair with each other. Make sure you wind up with someone more experienced."

"But she's so cute and tiny! Why can't I?" the new guy asks.

Rahah glares at him.

"And how would you like to be called 'cute and tiny'?" Tersulles demands.

"Well, uh," he says, "It's okay? I mean, people do it all the time."

"And you're just straight up admitting this?" someone else asks.

"Okay, I did not need to know that," another person entirely says.

"Er, why do you assume we know what we're doing even if we have done this before?" another woman asks in the middle of all of this.

"Everyone, please!" Tersulles shouts, putting up her hands. "Stop. You're like cats!"

"Cute and fluffy?" someone suggests, and receives a withering glare for his comment.

Finally everyone stops, and Tersulles conjures up a console and activates overlays on everyone. Suddenly all their names are hovering above their heads for everyone to see, colour-coded in blue, purple, and red, with a small amount of status data as well.

Rahah looks up worriedly, but hers just says 'Sjerdami' like it's supposed to.

"Now we know who everyone is," Tersulles says. "So if you want to continue making annoying comments, I ''will know who you are.''" She goes on, losing the threatening tone, "Colours mark your roles: red's guards, blue's aids, and I and Keke Ama are apparently purple."

"So what's purple?" a guy named Varras asks.

"We're the ambassadors," Tersulles says. "Which you should know if you've read the brief." She pauses. "How many of you have read the brief?"

Three agents raise their hands, including Rahah and the other newbie, whose name is apparently Lhorys. Then, very hesitantly, another hand goes up as well. This hand belongs to Keke Ama.

Tersulles stares at the other ambassador worriedly.

"Wait, so there was a brief?" Varras says.

"Usually is," an elderly Nisai woman, Tull, says.

"But you didn't read it either?" Varras asks her, looking a bit relieved.

Tersulles sighs. "I must honestly wonder," she says, "What those who hold our organisation in high regard would think if they saw this."

"Oh, we're totally professional," Tull says. "We just need to put on our professional faces first. Isn't that right?"

"Unequivocally," Amanstani says. "Arbitrator, come on. Tell us what we need to know to pretend to be professionals."

Tersulles gives everyone a moment just to see if they care to continue to irritate her before going on. "As you all would know if you had actually read the brief," she says irately, "this is a diplomatic mission to the Magi of the galaxy of Edo. I will be acting as primary ambassador, with Keke Ama as secondary. You all will be acting as assistants and guards, and generally pretending to be real professionals." She glares around at the group. "You all remember which you signed up to be, right?"

The agents nod.

"Sure," Amanstani says. "I'm a guard, right?" Her name is in blue, though, clearly marking her as an aid.

Tersulles ignores this. "Because if not, again, you're coloured accordingly," she says. "I also want you to observe the Edo while we do this. See what stands out. See what feels off. There may be undercurrents in their worlds that we do not yet know, and it is your job to follow up on them." She pauses. "That being said, this is a low-priority mission. Should things go... awry, simply get out. Retreat to a safehouse. ''Don't everyone get killed or come pester me about it, or pester me about getting killed.'' Any questions?"

An apparent Tenenbaume raises a hand slightly.

"Yes?" Tersulles asks.

"Awry how?" Tenenbaume asks.

"Awry," Tersulles responds. "Wrong. Problems. Catastrophic failure. Anything from and up to rabid squirrels to imploding planets. Completely overreacting regardless of the situation is fine, as long as you remember your fellow agents and don't get them killed. Please, do not get them killed. Or me. I will be very upset if you get me killed on what is supposed to be a low-priority, low-risk mission to peaceful words."

Tenenbaume raises his hand again. "How completely is 'completely overreacting'?" he asks.

"Like if we implode the planet in reaction to rabid squirrels," Tull suggests.

"That seems excessive," Aa says.

"Exactly!" Tull tells him.

"We do want to avoid excessive loss of life, damages, or anything up to or including starting a war," Tersulles replies.

Tenenbaume raises his hand again. Tersulles just stares at him flatly.

"Define 'excessive'."

"Gods take me now," Tersulles mutters. "You're not cats. You're... somehow worse. I'm herding something ''worse than cats''."


{{ hidden | 1=

{{ Maths | 1=

"That's the problem," Nissa says. "Nobody in Edo knows these maths. They're not published. They're not used. They doesn't exist, as far as we're concerned."

"So?" Aa says.

Nissa shakes her head incredulously. "So it's been over a thousand years since anyone's made any progress, and nobody's come up with any of this? That's just... it's statistically impossible."

"What are you saying?" Rahah asks.

"I don't know!" Nissa says desperately, but gestures back to the board. "But I mean, this is right, isn't it?"

"Yeah, looks solid to me," Aa says, reading over it again. "I'd have to reference it back to manuals to be sure, but..."

"What's it used for?" Nissa asks.

"Looks a lot like... some of the shield mechanics stuff?" Rahah suggests, though she isn't quite sure herself. She's used some of that before, but using something and actually learning it are entirely separate matters. She frowns. "Actually if you're starting out with this..." She writes out a different line next to one of the earlier ones, setting it all up. "Continue in the same vein..."

They all stop and write out the progression together, filling in various bits.

"Yeah," Aa says when they're finished, stepping back. "This, I recognise. This is what you do to make an invisibility field. Plug that into the energy matrix, that maps the flow of magic in order to negate perspective on everything behind it."

"And this stuff," Nissa asks. "It all involves magic?"

"Yeah," Aa agrees. "I'd... say so, based on what we've looked at so far."

Rahah gives Nissa a confused look. "Are you suggesting there's some sort of conspiracy in Edo to keep magic and technology separate?" she asks.

Nissa shakes her head. "I'm not..." she says. "I don't know, but in the Commonwealth... but I mean, whatever is going on..." She looks desperately between the two agents, totally confused.

"We need to get to the bottom of it," Aa says.

"Yeah..." Rahah agrees. "Whatever it... is."

"Well, yeah," Aa says. "That's why we get to the bottom of it."

"To figure out what it is," Rahah says.

"Yeah," Aa says.

"Yeah," Rahah agrees.

"Yeah," Nissa says, relieved.

"And we all just agreed with each other agreeing with each other," Aa points out.

"Hey, boss lady!" Rahah yells at Tersulles.

}}

{{ arbcom (original) | 1 =

Veloriun Comb - guy with bubbles
Masassa Anali
Tersulles
Shichiri Miusuke
Hadallis Ran Akore
Naije - a cat
Kanunn
Jerdalim


<screenplay>

INT. Ciphreya: Arbitration Committee chambers - day

It's a wide room, with more windows overlooking the city, but from higher up, here. A large horseshoe-shaped table takes up most of the space, the opening facing the door. At it (or on it) are seated the Committee, of various species: VELORIUN COMB, MASASSA ANALI, TERSULLES, SHICHIRI MIUSUKE, HADALLIS RAN AKORE, NAIJE, and KANUNN. Several other seats are empty. A few of them are talking. Others are working at data pads. Masassa Anali is at the head, looking imposing and somewhat irate at her pad. Tersulles is staring off out a window, tapping a pen on her nose. Naije is a cat, and sitting on the table. Veloriun Comb has what looks suspiciously like a bottle of bubbles in front of him.

Jerdalim goes and takes his seat. The others glance at him enquiringly, and he sighs and gestures toward the door.

Rahah enters a moment later, and stops uncertainly at the opening of the horseshoe.

Masassa Anali stands.

MASASSA ANALI
Sovereign. On behalf of the Arbitration Committee of the Hadris Citheldryn, welcome.

RAHAH
Hi. Sorry I'm late and smell like a yak.

MASASSA ANALI
(sitting)
I am pleased to inform you that your proposal to initiate formal diplomatic relations with the Magi of Edo has been accepted.

RAHAH
(brightening up)
In full?

MASSASSA ANALI
There are matters to discuss, of course. Questions to be answered.

NAIJE
Who will lead this venture?

RAHAH
I covered that in the proposal. I'll be taking a team of agents-

NAIJE
(interrupting)
You?! You are a child.

Veloriun blows some bubbles. They drift colourfully over the table. Nobody acknowledges them.

RAHAH
I am a qualified agent of the Citheldryn.

Naije snorts a laugh.

SHICHIRI MIUSUKE
You lack experience. This would be your first mission.

RAHAH
Because you won't let me go on any!

KANNUN
(talking over Rahah)
She raises a valid point. She passed all her qualifications. We have little reason not to let her go.

NAIJE
She is the reincarnation of the sovereign. Her endangerment is reason enough even besides.

KANNUN
Bring her as an agent. Protectors will accompany her, and can sequester her in the voidship if needed.

Shichiri shrugs.

HADALLIS RAN AKORE
I see no harm in it.

NAIJE
I suppose...

A bubble lands on Naije's nose. She hisses at it.

RAHAH
But...

SHICHIRI MIUSUKE
Who do you want to head this up, then?

JERDALIM
Tersulles?

Tersulles glances over at him enquiringly, twirling her pen.

JERDALIM
You're our best diplomat.

TERSULLES
Oh, very well. But since you volunteered me, you get to sort out the paperwork.

}}

{{ party |

INT. Voidship: main chamber - night

They eventually get going, piling into the main chamber. Aa is in a poofy armchair piloting.  Tersulles is seated at a table pointedly ignoring everyone else. The others are mostly just standing around, the walls around them acting as windows to the city falling away from them outside. The chamber is otherwise full of sofas and tables of very random heights, with some screens floating midair.

They quickly get out into space, and Rahah stares out at the dwindling planet in fascination.

A moment later, the stars blur and disappear.

KEKE AMA
(miming utter horror)
Oh gods what is this we're in space how how how is that even whaaaaat?

She flails a bit to emphasise her point.

Tull just stares at her.

KEKE AMA
(stopping)
You people are no fun.

AA
This'll be a few hours, kids. Get comfortable and stop freaking out our resident Tersulles, please.

Tersulles looks up, and then hastily goes back to her pad.

}}

{{ heist (original) | 1=

INT. Gorgon Tower: training room - afternoon

A class is going on. It's a large room, but they're not really using the space: several apprentices are standing around a master Magi, DAMORIN. One apprentice, NISSA, is off the side, leaning against a wall.

MASTER DAMORIN
Hold the shape in your mind - picture it, know it, feel it.

A few of the apprentices look confused. A couple start making the shape of a ball with their hands. Nissa just remains as she is, watching.

MASTER DAMORIN
(nodding)
Now make the shape with your hands. Feel it fill them - guide the energy to become.

The apprentices shape out a ball. Some of their hands fill with light. One of them draws his light up and tries to throw it at the ceiling, but it fizzles out first. Another, ZHANA, has nothing happen for a bit, before her hands suddenly catch fire. She shakes them out, trying to get rid of the fire, and then starts screaming for help.

APPRENTICE ZHANA
Agh agh ow agh get it off get it off!

Damorin hurries over to the burning apprentice and grabs her hands, putting out the fire and healing them.

APPRENTICE ZHANA
(staring at her hands)
Ow.

MASTER DAMORIN
(turning toward Nissa)
Nissa?

Nissa holds up a finger and a point of light appears over it.

MASTER DAMORIN
Good.

He turns back to the others.

MASTER DAMORIN
Let's all try that again. Know what you want, and form the shape in your minds...








INT. Gorgon Tower: training room - late afternoon

Nissa turns around in surprise. Damorin has a hand on her shoulder, looking concerned.

The other apprentices are all gone.

MASTER DAMORIN
Are you well?

NISSA
Yeah, sure. What...
(she looks around)
How long was I...?

MASTER DAMORIN
The class just ended.

NISSA
Oh. Uh...

MASTER DAMORIN
What were you doing?

NISSA
(turning bright red and looking away)
Nothing. I... nothing.

Damorin frowns.

MASTER DAMORIN
I understand your desire to move on to more advanced magics, but the rules are the rules. You must complete your basic training.

NISSA
Why? I can do all this already. It's just... basic stuff. I could not show up at all and still ace the tests.

MASTER DAMORIN
But you do. And you must. For control.

NISSA
I have better control already than some of the advanced apprentices.

MASTER DAMORIN
True. But your impatience does you no credit, either.

NISSA
At least you understand. Some of the masters just get so mean about it. It's not my fault this all comes so naturally!

MASTER DAMORIN
You are a Magi, Nissa. Your power is your burden, and you must shoulder it as such. If your power is greater, then so your control must be even more so. Where others may scrape by with acceptables, you must exceed, or you place us all at risk. Do you understand?

NISSA
Uh...

MASTER DAMORIN
You don't need to follow the lessons exactly. But show up. Witness how the others learn. Practice yourself. That will still be worthwhile.

NISSA
For things I could do in my sleep? How can that...

An explosion shakes the tower, and a somewhat horrifying creak rumbles through its frame a moment after.

Nissa nearly falls over before quickly recovering herself. Damorin sticks out a hand to steady himself, and cocks his head.

NISSA
What was that?

MASTER DAMORIN
I don't sense anything.

NISSA
Warlocks?

Damorin gives Nissa a look, and then hurries off toward the door. He sweeps a hand in a circle off to his side, summoning a disk under him, which lifts him a bit off the ground.

Nissa runs up and hops on the disk as well as it carries him off.


INT. Gorgon Tower: exploded area - late afternoon

The area is somewhat exploded, with chunks of things and various whatnots around, but nothing terribly structural seems damaged. Wounded people are also around, with Magi healers tending to them. A few are outright dead.

Master Damorin and Nissa fly in through a window, Damorin standing confidently in place and Nissa sitting next to him clinging kind of desperately to his legs, totally ruining the effect.

Damorin glides over toward some folks who don't seem so busy as the others. One of them is a bit singed.

MASTER DAMORIN
(stopping in front of them)
What happened here?

Nissa stops clinging to his legs as soon as the disk stops.

SINGED GUY
(gesturing really big with his arms)
Like boom.

NISSA
We figured that much out already.

SINGED GUY
Well, like, I dunno. Everything was normal. And then boom.

MASTER DAMORIN
No sign of anything amiss prior? Anyone acting suspicious?

SINGED GUY
No, man, it was normal. Normal!

NISSA
Someone could have put an explosive down before and...
We're in the wrong place. This was just the distraction.

Damorin guides the disk on away from the others.

Nissa barely manages to avoid yelping and clinging to his legs again.

MASTER DAMORIN
I agree. But from what?

NISSA
I dunno, if you were blowing up Gorgon Tower, what would you be trying to distract from?
What's rather distant from here and generally full of magi?

MASTER DAMORIN
Many things, I fear.

NISSA
What is all that and has anything warlocks might be after?

MASTER DAMORIN
Why do you suspect warlocks?

NISSA
You don't sense anything, I don't. No intent, no malice. Nothing. Aaaaagh.
(she cowers down on the disk a bit, clinging to the edge)
It's like there's nobody here, and the only way you get that is if you're actively shielded. Why would anyone not magic shield themselves?

Damorin nods, but Nissa is not paying any attention whatsoever to him, and instead squeezing her eyes shut and barely managing to avoid panicking.

MASTER DAMORIN
Very good.

NISSA
(opening an eye)
So that leaves a few obvious options, right? The council, the archives, engineering, that thing nobody ever talks about in Seres Tower.

MASTER DAMORIN
Let's take a wild guess and check the archives.

He zips the disk back out anther missing window.

Nissa shrieks and grabs his legs again.


EXT. Magi compound - evening

They fly out over the open air between towers, headed for an even taller, bigger tower, rising quickly to regain the height they'd previously lost. All of the Magi towers are much taller, fancier, and bigger than the surrounding city, but this one, the Atlas Tower, is the tallest of all.

It's a bit like Nissa's dream vision, but much windier, and for this she spends the entire time clinging to Damorin.

Damorin raises a hand as they approach the Atlas Tower, and then opens a portal through the wall. They zip in through it and the portal closes behind them.


INT. Atlas Tower: archives - evening

The archives look normal enough: shelves of books, scrolls, and other things cover the walls. Tables with terminals take up much of the rest of the space.

Damorin and Nissa glide in through one of the side rooms out into the main room, before Damorin finally dismisses the disk and drops back to the floor. Nissa falls on her arse and just sits there in relief for a moment, looking around.

NISSA
Well, nobody's here.

DAMORIN
Shh. Listen.

They stand and sit, respectively, in silence for a moment. The soft buzz of the terminals fills the silence, covering other sounds in the structure of the building: a vague creak as the structure shifts, sounds of mechanical parts, and plumbing. Footsteps in another room. Breathing: one heavy, one rapid, one perfectly, deadly calm. Another, slightly less calm. Heartbeats. A voice. The rapid one.

LIRIEN MAYASU
We're in, master.

Nissa glances up at Damorin inquiringly.

MASTER DAMORIN
They're here. Three of them.
(he glances down at Nissa, smiling slightly)
Warlocks.

NISSA
(starting out kind of happy and then just sounding disappointed)
Uh... oh.

MASTER DAMORIN
You may follow, but stay back, and keep a shield ready.

Damorin heads off toward the sounds.

Nissa follows after him, brightening up considerably.


INT. Atlas Tower: collections - evening



Lirien Mayasu is opening a case.

Yoishe is kneeling by the wall, holding herself perfectly still.

Dazroth is holding a glowing blue sword to Yoishe's throat.

Horgon is standing a bit off to the side, holding a very large gun like a cherished child.

Damorin stops at the doorway, and Horgon cheerfully points his gun at him.

HORGON
(grinning)
Looks like it's a party!

YOISHE
Damorin...

Dazroth silences her by moving his blade slightly closer. A tendril of smoke rises off the edge.

DAZROTH
Shhh, my sweet.
(to Damorin)
You would be wise to come no closer. Let us finish what we came to do, and there will be no more suffering.

MASTER DAMORIN
And what is that, exactly?

Dazroth smiles slightly.

Nissa pokes her head in around Damorin.

NISSA
Hi. Can I watch?

DAZROTH
Of course.

MASTER DAMORIN
(warningly)
Nissa...

NISSA
Hey, if he's fine with it...

Nissa scoots inside and stops a short distance from Lirien Mayasu.

NISSA
Whatcha doing?

Horgon gives Nissa a considering look, and then points his gun at her, instead.

LIRIEN MAYASU
These cases are rigged to remove all items if they detect improper opening. I need to find the correct methods working backwards and then execute them exactly.

NISSA
By scoping it out with magic?

LIRIEN MAYASU
Yes.

NISSA
Cool.

</screenplay>

}}

{{ Credit (original) | 1=

<screenplay>

GUY
Sovereign. This may be of interest to you.

The guy holds out a golden card.

RAHAH
What is it?

GUY
Currency. Credit, specifically.

He hands Rahah the card, and she turns it about, catching the light on it.

GUY
You just tap that to pay, most places. Spend it on whatever you want. We have plenty.

RAHAH
How much is plenty?

The guy smirks.

GUY
Plenty. Just... if you want to buy a planet or something, do let us know first, okay?

Rahah looks at him in surprise, and then the card.

Tersulles sighs disapprovingly.


</screenplay>

}}

{{ Pick up job (original) | 1=

<screenplay>

INT. Somewhat seedy restaurant - day

Rahah and Nissa sit down at a free table and look around a bit in bemusement.

A HOLOGRAM of a generic waitress pops up on the table.

HOLOGRAM
Anything to drink, ladies?

RAHAH
Uh, yes. We'd like... drinks.

NISSA
Yes.

HOLOGRAM
Could you please repeat that?

RAHAH
Drinks.

HOLOGRAM
Item is not found on the menu. Would you like a list of all available items?

NISSA
Are any of them full of bees?

HOLOGRAM
Could you please repeat that?

A well-dressed but somewhat scarred man, COMNEN, slips into the spare seat.

COMNEN
I understand you have a job for me.

HOLOGRAM
Could you please repeat that?

COMNEN
Shut up.

HOLOGRAM
Could you please repeat that?

COMNEN
Bottle of vodka and five glasses.

HOLOGRAM
(brightly)
Coming right up!

NISSA
Five?

COMNEN
You have anyone else coming?

NISSA
No?

COMNEN
Oh. Well, whatever. You looking to hire me or not?

NISSA
Well, yeah, maybe.

RAHAH
You any good at transporting... questionable items?

COMNEN
You know that's basically my entire job description, right?
A totally legitimate transport enterprise, of course, but sometimes with problems. Solved. In the process.

Nissa nods skeptically and looks at Rahah for help.

RAHAH
Er, we don't really get out much.

COMNEN
And what exactly did you want me to do?

NISSA
Pick up and transport.

COMNEN
And the problem?

RAHAH
The pickup is from the Atlas Tower of the Magi compound, and the transport is kind of in... Union space.

Comnen stares at them blankly.

COMNEN
(finally)
What.

NISSA
We'll get the item to you. We simply need a pickup after.

COMNEN
Wasn't there a... situation there not a few days ago? Some sort of robbery then too? Did that have anything to do with you?

NISSA
Why? Does this worry you?

COMNEN
Yes?

RAHAH
It's okay. They like us there.

NISSA
No they don't.

RAHAH
(giving Nissa an annoyed look)
Well, they like ''you''.

NISSA
(uncertainly)
Er...

Rahah gives her a worried look.

RAHAH
Okay, look. The initial thing wasn't us, wasn't even related to us. This is just another thing. You show up, pick us up. If we don't show up in an hour...
(she turns to Nissa)
It is an hour, right?

NISSA
Huh?

RAHAH
The parking permits. They're an hour, right?

NISSA
Oh, yeah.
(to Comnen; catching on)
You'll have a permit and stuff. Just show up, park, and we'll come out to you. If we don't come out before it expires, just leave.

RAHAH
Perfectly legal.

COMNEN
How are you getting me a parking permit, exactly?

RAHAH
Let us sort that out.

COMNEN
No, really. Not everyone on my crew is strictly legal, if you know what I mean, so it's going to have to be a real permit.

NISSA
No, no, it's real. We're Magi. Sort of. It'll work. I mean, it might be stolen, but...

Comnen sighs.

COMNEN
(skeptically)
Do you even have credit?

Nissa looks at Rahah uncertainly.

RAHAH
Yes.

COMNEN
I'll need 50 thousand.

RAHAH
Okay.

COMNEN
Half of that up front.

RAHAH
That's fine.

Nissa gapes.

COMNEN
(surprised)
Well. Then I suppose we have ourselves a deal.

</screenplay>

}}

{{ Pickup (original) | 1=

<screenplay>

INT. Atlas Tower: collections - morning




EXT. Atlas Tower: lot - morning

Comnen is standing outside his ship, having a smoke. A ROBED MAGI approaches him.

ROBED MAGI
Evening.

COMNEN
Hey.

ROBED MAGI
What brings you here?

COMNEN
Job.

ROBED MAGI
Oh?

Comnen shrugs.

COMNEN
Didn't ask.

The Magi nods and goes a bit past to look out over the view. There's a view.

The door to the Atlas tower opens and Rahah and Nissa run out, Nissa manhandling a large floating crate, and Rahah lagging a bit behind.

The door closes behind them, and then reopens a moment later.

A RUNNING MAGI comes out after them.

RAHAH
Shit shit shit shit shit!

Rahah runs faster, getting ahead of Nissa, and then, weaving her arms over her head, casts to hurl the crate up and over them at Comnen.

The running Magi chasing them throws a ball of lightning, which Rahah ducks.

COMNEN
(backing up)
What the...

The crate nearly hits a the ground a few meters in front of him, before its levitating supports get it back up again, and it slides toward him.

RUNNING MAGI
Hey!

The robed Magi stops the crate with a wave of his hand, draws his sword, and advances on Rahah and Nissa.

ROBED MAGI
Stop.

NISSA
(slowing)
Oh crap...

Rahah pulls out one of her weapons and makes a sword with it as well, not stopping.

Comnent pulls an earpiece out of his pocket and hastily puts it on.

COMNEN
Sokar. Sokar?

He fiddles at the earpiece a bit.

COMNEN
(backing toward his ship)
Sokar!
...fuck. Right.

The robed Magi stops and gestures a symbol in the air in front of him, and a beam of light spears down out of the sky at Rahah.

The running Magi chasing them nearly grabs Nissa, but she twists away and retaliates with a blast of pure force, shoving the Magi back.

NISSA
(recoiling)
...oh gods. I just did that. I just did that!

Rahah holds her sword up over he head, turning it into a shield, which absorbs the force of the beam as she runs through it.

COMNEN
(yelling at Nissa)
Hey, girl! Get your crate!

Comnen turns and runs into the ship.

Nissa startles and recovers herself, finds the crate, and runs for that, instead.

The robed Magi moves to block Nissa's path, but Rahah jumps at him, drawing her other weapon too, attacking all out with two double-bladed swords, forcing him to fend her off instead. He parries and ripostes with his sword, and then knocks Rahah back with a blast of energy when she blocks with one of her swords.

Rahah shoots at him instead, and dances around him as he whips a chain of crackling lightning at her, still guarding with his sword.

ROBED MAGI
Stop this nonsense. I have no wish to harm you.

RAHAH
Yeah, well...

Rahah jumps back, swinging the swords at him and turning them on and off as needed, but he deflects each attack with a flick of his fingers.

Nissa gets to the crate and shoves it back toward the ship, and then gives chase after it.

The robed Magi jumps toward Nissa, and Rahah jumps in front of him, blocking his path, swinging her swords in tandem. He knocks the blades aside unnaturally quickly with his own sword, and turns it into a thrust right at her, which she blocks with one, but only barely. He presses the advantage, pushing both his sword and Rahah's plasma blade closer to her face. She turns off her spare and braces it against the other in attempt to push back.

Nissa shoves the crate up the ramp into the ship, just as it starts to take off, and jumps onto the ramp after it.

NISSA
Rahah!

Rahah dodges to the side, letting the sword fall past her, and then swings back at the Magi as he comes around for another one-handed swing as well, black flames tricking down his free hand, and a series of impossible swings and parries and blocks ensue as the flames begin to build.

Nissa gathers up a ball of swirling energies in her own hands as the ship continues to slowly rise.

NISSA
(insistently)
RAHAH!

Rahah jumps up, sailing into the air, and the Magi throws the black flames after her. She casts her swords out to the sides, forming the blades into a shield around her even as she continues to rise, and the flames hit a moment later, exploding over this bubble.

Nissa hurls her own ball of energy down at the Magi, and he drops to the ground, covering himself in a shield. The running Magi hurries toward him.

Nissa grabs Rahah and yanks her onto the the ship's cargo ramp as well, and they run inside.


INT. Shades Softly: cargo hold

Nissa and Rahah find themselves in a cargo hold full of random stuff, past an inner door for the airlock. The crate has bonked into a heap of stuff and stopped.

COMNEN
(over the intercom)
Are you idiots on? If so, shut the door and get up here!

RAHAH
(putting her weapons away)
What?

Nissa bonks a large button by the door, and the door closes and the ramp retracts.

NISSA
(sounding resigned)
This way, I think.


INT. Shades Softly: cockpit

The cockpit is a cockpit with windows, screens, and consoles. A pilot and copilot seat are in front, with two seats behind them. Comnen is in the pilot seat, taking the ship rapidly up into the upper atmosphere.

COMNEN
Nice of you to join us. Now strap yourselves in before things start to get interesting, eh?

NISSA
(taking the seat behind him)
Interesting how?

Rahah takes the copilot seat and tries to figure out the buckles for a moment before getting it.

COMNEN
No way your Magi friends aren't reporting that. We have a few minutes, maybe, but... ever run from cops, girls?

They slip into a lane of ship traffic headed offworld.

NISSA
Er... no?

RAHAH
Is it fun?

COMNEN
(yawning)
Tremendously.

They get further out into space without much issue over the next few minutes. Comnen mostly just sits there letting the ship drive itself.

NISSA
Rahah?

RAHAH
Hmm?

NISSA
How screwed are we?

RAHAH
Well, as much as my people aren't going to be terribly happy about this, we did just formally break off all relations anyway. Yours are probably going to be double annoyed.

An incoming transmission causes something to notify, and Comnen flicks the button to turn it on.

TRANSMISSION PERSON
Transport address e695.db43.2158, you are witnessed and registered for illegal activities. Return to port now for proccessing.

COMNEN
(bonking at the button)
Ah, shut up.

TRANSMISSION PERSON
Transport address e695.db43.2158, excuse me? Return to port, or you will be disabled. This is your final warning.

COMNEN
Oh, I'm sorry, did I hit the wrong button? What I meant to say was...
(he leans really close to the mic)
GO FUCK YOURSELF. WITH A FISH.

Comnen hits the correct button this time, silencing the comms.

NISSA
(scrunching up a bit, uncertainly)
Er... that... shouldn't we do what they say? They know the ship, there's not...

COMNEN
(leaning forward and shooting them out of traffic)
Nah, this happens sometimes. Rejig the paint, set a new registry address and they'll never know it's us. Course we need to get out of their worlds first, buuut...

The police boats start shooting at them, and Comnen dances the ship about, evading.

NISSA
What, it's that easy?

COMNEN
(sarcastically)
Sure, if you know what you're doing! And can even get really unlucky...

His words are punctuated by an explosion as something actually on the ship gets hit.

COMNEN
(wincing)
...and wind up with a registered bad one.

A crew of some sort, CITHANDRA, pokes her head in as Comnen wheels the ship about in yet another direction.

CITHANDRA
Boss, did I just hear a...
(she notices Rahah and Nissa)
Who are these... people?

COMNEN
(yanking the ship in another direction)
Job, Cith!

CITHANDRA
(barely clinging to the doorframe)
And you didn't think to possibly consult your crew before endangering us all?

COMNEN
They had a parking permit. Didn't seem that dangerous.

CITHANDRA
(sarcastically)
Oh, well if they had a parking permit...

COMNEN
(he glances at the monitors before choosing the next dodge)
'Sides, I didn't want to wake you.

Comnen is still flying very erratically, while the police boats continue to try to shoot them down.

Cithandra loses her hold momentarily and winds up half-sitting on Nissa. She grabs onto Comnen's chair instead.

CITHANDRA
You really thought this flying, and I shudder to even call it that, you thought it wouldn't wake everyone on board?

COMNEN
Dammit, Cith, can we have this conversation some other time? Say, when I'm NOT trying to keep us all from getting killed.
And sit down, for fuck's sake. Inertial dampening's only so good.

He drives them on in squiggles, vaguely approaching another large planet.

Another crewmember, JONAS, yells from somewhere further back in the ship:

JONAS
Ey, what is going on?!

Someone else yells something incoherent.

Cithandra manages to get herself into the remaining seat, and activates the ship-wide intercom.

CITHANDRA
Everyone, please remain calm and strap yourselves in. It seems we've taken a job, and as long as we don't all die from it first...
(she shoots Comnen an irate look)
...things should calm down shortly. And then we'll get paid.
(turning off the intercom)
Also we should probably pick up the rest of the crew before we leave, yes?

COMNEN
One thing at a time!

He takes them into the planet's rings, dodging hunks of rock and ice and... other things at very alarming speed. Stuff blurrs past as they zig and zag between things.

NISSA
How are you not hitting everything?!

COMNEN
(pulling his hands off the console)
Magic!

CITHANDRA
That's not him. That's the Shades doing it.
We solid, boss?

COMNEN
If we see anything big enough, yeah...

RAHAH
(pointing a bit to the side)
There.

COMNEN
What? Where?

RAHAH
You just need something bigger than the ship, right?
47 seconds, 18 degrees off, no, 23 degrees off...

Comnen gives her a skeptical look, but directs the ship in the general direction.

COMNEN
Ah, I see it.
(gesturing)
On my mark, hit that button.

They squiggle a bit around things, and then a rock slightly bigger than the ship suddenly looms up in front of them and they rapidly slow.

COMNEN
Mark!

Rahah smacks the button, and the rock explodes in front of them.

Comnen yanks the ship to a stop.

Cithandra pulls a lever, and the ship suddenly goes dark, everything turning off all at once. Even the artificial gravity goes off, though a few minor things stay on.

KHALEMI
(over the intercom)
Boss? What in the world is going on?

COMNEN
(replying)
Oh, nothing, my dear, just evading the law of the worlds.

Cithandra unclasps her seatbelt and heads back into the rest of the ship, guiding herself along expertly.

KHALEMI
(over the intercom)
Should I put out some bots?

Comnen sighs, considering.

COMNEN
Yeah, give us a full scrub. Let's go with... Destiny's Reach.

KHALEMI
(over the intercom)
I'm on it.

Comnen turns and starts typing at a red screen. The ship is totally dark around them.

RAHAH
So... now what?

COMNEN
Now we wait. Khalemi's going to put out some bots to scrub the hull, make us look like a different ship, and I'll reset the registry address, and then...
(he gestures vaguely with a hand)
Sooner or later someone not cops'll come near here, we follow them out, essentially.

NISSA
Sooner or later? So how... long does that usually take?

COMNEN
Usually under a week. Give or take.

NISSA
What?!

RAHAH
We really don't have that kind of time.

COMNEN
That's how long it takes. If we want to get out of this system, we have to look legitimate, and that means not randomly coming out of these rings right after the ''same kind of ship'' just illegally went in and supposedly exploded.

NISSA
(standing up)
I have a better idea.




NISSA
Hidden. They will not be able to find us with their technology, or their eyes.





COMNEN
(over the intercom)
New plan, kids. Get the basic scrub done and make sure you're all on floor in ten minutes, and we're heading out.

KHALEMI
(over the intercom)
Have you been eating those beans again?







CITHANDRA
(to Comnen)
And you didn't think it was perhaps relevant that the ones hiring you were Magi? That that might make things a little more dangerous?

COMNEN
Why would that possibly make things more dangerous in Commonwealth space?!

Cithandra just stares at him.

CITHANDRA
You mean besides what just happened?

COMNEN
Well I didn't exactly expect that.

NISSA
(holding up a hand)
For the record? Neither did we.

RAHAH
Honestly had me or that Magi not been trying desperately to not actually kill each other, one or both of us would probably be dead.

NISSA
Er, what?

RAHAH
I mean, I'm totally rubbish in a real-life fight, but flailing madly has won me a few even in-game, so...
You got two dumarses attacking each other with magics and swords and weird-arse other things, how in the world could that possibly end well for either if they're actually trying to kill each other? Think about it.

NISSA
What were you trying to do?

RAHAH
Distract him.

NISSA
And him?

RAHAH
Stop me from doing something really regretable, probably.

NISSA
So basically we just pissed off the good guys. For no real reason.

RAHAH
Possibly. We'll have to see what's even in the box first, of course...



Union space





They open the box. A glowing, not quite right object is inside. It looks a bit like a glassy seed.

They all sort of stare at it a bit.

COMNEN
So what is it?

RAHAH
I have no idea.

NISSA
It's a seed.

JONAS
A glowing one.

NISSA
A glowing seed.




</screenplay>

}}

{{ Infected hand (original?) | 1=

<screenplay>
DAZROTH
Don't touch him directly. The contagion may spread.

RAHAH
Right. But if it's magical in origin, could not magicking it do the same?

DAZROTH
Do you not use safeguards?

RAHAH
(a bit surprised, but quickly covering)
They may only work against known vectors.

SANTANA
That's a good point, really. We still don't know how the plague was spreading.

The others start discussing this.

RAHAH
(quietly)
Comnen, were you shielded?

COMNEN
Yeah. I thought you said this would protect me? That stuff went right through it!

RAHAH
What happened? Was there a flash or anything?

COMNEN
(shaking his head)
It went all dark. Just all over. And then my hand...

RAHAH
Hrnng...

Rahah takes his affected hand at a distance, holding it up by magic, and inspecting it, indirectly, with more of the same.

The discussion around the rest of the cubicle dies down a bit as folks watch.

COMNEN
Well?

RAHAH
I... have no idea.

DAZROTH
Not related to the plague?

RAHAH
It's unlike anything I've ever seen.

Comnen manages to avoid snarking at this, but only barely.

RAHAH
It's like...

But though she clearly recognises something, she doesn't finish the thought, instead hastilly dropping Comnen's hand and leaning away.

</screenplay>

}}

{{ Hopeless (original) | 1=

<screenplay>

COMNEN
(turning to the guy behind him)
Agh, these people are hopeless.

The guy behind him turns out to be Dazroth.

DAZROTH
Now you know how I feel.

COMNEN
Er... sorry.

</screenplay>

}}

{{ End thing (original) | 1=

<screenplay>

A courier hands a package to Rahah and leaves.

Rahah opens it. It's some sort of note, and she skims through it quickly.

Nissa leans over.

RAHAH
It's from Dazroth.

NISSA
What is it?

RAHAH
(handing the note to Nissa)
An invitation.

</screenplay>

}}

{{ Metadata | 1=

Characters:

* Rahah
**	telekinesis
**	weapons - swords, blasts, shield
**	very basic magic
**	slight foresight
* Nissa Velei
**	general magic, but especially explosions, blasts, bursts
**	???
**	Maths!


Party:

* Tersulles (arb)
* Keke Ama

* Amanstani
* Lhorys
* Tajira Los

* Aa
* Tenenbaume
* Varras
* Tull
* Sjerdami (Rahah)


Arbcom:

* Veloriun Comb - guy blowing bubbles
* Masassa Anali - possibly the chair
* Tersulles
* Shichiri Miusuke
* Hadallis Ran Akore
* Naije - a cat
* Kanunn
* Jerdalim


Crew:

* Comnen - boss, smuggler/merc, pilot, 'public relations'
* Cithandra - brains of the operation
* Sokar - second pilot, 'public relations 2'
* Khalemi - medic, tech handler in general, bot operator
* Jonas - 'public relations 2'
* Torkora Ma - wanton thief, 'public relations'

Union:

* Dazroth
* Horgon
* Lirien Mayasu

}}

}}