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Cptn Corizon

The Other Rebellion: A Summons

Dawn broke over the Al-Ucard homeworld, though the piercing rays of the blue giant would not seep through the heavy cloud cover that bathed the world in a protective cocoon. As he looked out from the high balcony of the Altheeris Spire, Anval wondered curiously why the Scorpiads had imbued them their weakness to ultraviolet radiation. It was a question, he supposed, that he would never adequately have answered.


Oh there were certainly explanations. Al-Ucard priests and scientists had spent years discussing it; just as they’d spent years discussing the purpose of the Al-Ucard. Yet, still, he’d never gotten an answer that satisfied him and now that the Al-Ucard were casting off the yokes of their creators, masters and gods, he would never get the chance to ask them himself.


Sighing, Anval headed off the terrace and closed glass doors behind him. Inside, the young Al-Ucard found a most curious visitor waiting for him.


“Lord Tiamat,” he said, rather startled to see a member of the Council in his personal chambers. “To what do I owe this honor?”


Standing across from him, the lithe, silver-haired figure of Lord Tiamat waived a hand. “Forgive the intrusion, Anval. Your housekeeper let me in.”


“None was taken,” he said motioning for Tiamat to enter more fully into the room. “Please make yourself comfortable.”


“No need, I cannot stay long. I am here to summon you to a meeting of the Council.”

Anval blinked, unable to hide his surprise.


“May I… may I ask what for?”


“You are being summoned for a special mission, the Council will brief you more fully once you arrive. As you know Anval, our war with the Scorpiads hangs by but a thread. Our alliance with the Eratians is tentative and the hives have begun to grow weary. Their resolve has weakened.”


“Well, my lord, they have lived much longer under the direct rule of the Scorpiads. What is the nature of this mission.”


“The Eratians need to see that this war is winnable. We must give them a victory least they surrender themselves to the Scorpiad.”


“Is that even an option?”


Tiamat frowned deeply. “If we offered ourselves to the Empress she would no doubt accept out surrender, but none of the Council would survive and our people would be chained for another ten thousand years before we could rise once more.”


“I understand.


“Good, Anval. The Council has great faith in you, as do I.”


“Faith,” Anval said. “Is such a strange word. We grew up with reverence and faith in our gods, and now we presume to slay them.”

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