AllFreeNovel
Share Us
26
GRIXIS
When we first came from the stars, it was to reclaim our honor. It wasn’t ideal, as it was far more glorious to do so by continuing our lines or vanquishing foes, but it was the last hope me and my men had.
Because nothing is more important than expanding our territory in hopes of finding the perfect place. One that is ideal for our people.
Once, our numbers were many, and that has not been forgotten. What is unclear, however, is what happened to our lines. Why our numbers dwindled and baby girls were so few.
It started over a thousand years ago. In a desperate effort to thwart our eventual demise, we sent seed ships to various planets. They contained several species that were attuned to each planets’ conditions and lesser humanoid beings: Elena’s people.
The humanoids were meant to develop in a way that would dominate the other species and build up a civilization. Then, hundreds of years later, once the planet had been settled, we sent terraformers to make the climate more ideal for my people.
Men were sent to oversee the process, or rather, exiles, and eventually, replacements, which is what my people were. Surprisingly, when we came to this place, the original men sent were nowhere to be found.
The conditions the terraformers were meant to bring the planet to were designed to kill off the humanoids while allowing many of the creatures to adapt and survive. This would ensure we wouldn’t have rivals contending for land and there’d be plenty of game to hunt. When conditions were perfect, those guarding the terraformer would alert Tempest with the press of a button, and a colony would be sent to populate the planet.
But without the terraformer or the means with which to fix it, we are doomed.
I enter the Tomb, heading straight to the grand machine to see if what Ramsey said is true. Already several of my people are gathered, Ulof and Eddard being among them.
“What happened to the terraformer?”
“We don’t know,” Ulof says. “We happened upon it just a moment ago, right before you arrived.”
I start with a visual inspection of the outside components, then I look through the cracks.
“Run a diagnostic,” I command.
Ramsey presses a few buttons, and a screen comes to life.
“There-are-several-wires-in-need-of-service-in-quadrant-4A,” a robotic voice says.
“Hmmm,” Ulof scans the diagram, “4A, which is on the inner back wall. We can use the arm to service it.”
“No, we can’t.” I fold my arms over my chest, frustrated.
“It was made to fit in—”
“It’s broken.”
Ulof’s face grows white. “Broken? But that’s impossible.”
“Perhaps you’re right.”
I seek out the arm in its compartment and press the ‘ON’ button. No lights. No mechanical sounds. Dead.
“Ramsey, see what the computer says.”
A few taps of the screen, and the computer says, “Arm-Unit-616’s-origins-are-not-of-this-craft-and-cannot-be-diagnosed.”
I’d almost forgotten that we replaced the old arm with one we’d brought with us, which the ship does not recognize.
“Send for Jacek,” I command. “He’ll know how to fix it.”
Eddard rushes from the room to carry out my order.
“I want to see what kind of service these wires need.”
