First Contact

Chapter 636: The Cavern of Stars



Chapter 636: The Cavern of Stars

"Precursor leadership, Lanaktallan, Mantid, and Atrekna, all believed in the same thing: They could not fail, they could only be failed." - Vu'uklu'u, cohost of the Sol-Net TalkStream "Face Smashing Opinions" and author of The Madness of the Lemurs: A Study of Terran Descent Humanity

It was called, by the being who created it, the Cavern of Night Stars.

A hollowed out area in the very bedrock, twelve miles long, two miles wide, a mile deep. It was almost completely dark inside, without a single strong light source. Hanging in mid-air were rivers of jewels, suspended by the psionic construct carefully built within the cavern. Each jewel had been wrested from the Mad Lemur Tomb World, purified, then exposed only to the light of a single star in the night sky before being carefully placed in the cavern. The jewels gleamed and twinkled with the same colors as they shone with in the night sky.

Each jewel represented a single stellar mass in the Cygnus-Orion Galactic Arm Spur.

The far wall, which held a single block of hand polished onyx, rippled like water for a moment before a figure drifted through, suspended on a platform of shining purple phasic energy.

The figure was dressed opulently. White lace and chiffon, a long strip of embroidered, bejeweled, and decorated fabric making a train drifting behind them. An ornate headdress and a full facial veil. Long gloves with jewels and freshwater pearls.

The platform dimmed and the figure landed on the ground with its own feet, clad in elegant shoes with long heels. It moved forward as the onyx wall rippled again.

Dalvanak the Defiled One was followed by a full dozen of Atrekna, all dressed in elegant finery wrested from the Mad Lemur Tomb World at great risk. All had cast the spells of might, wisdom, courage, and cunning to fool the Tomb Guardians in the great treasure vaults. Had all gathered the icons and relics necessary to fool the Tomb Guardians from the vast fields of the Defiled Dead and the Hungry Dead.

Some were dressed in wedding dresses, others in tuxedos, still others in ornate ball gowns, prom dresses, and cotillion gowns. Gems, mother of pearl, warsteel/gold alloy, and more glimmered and sparkled on the dozen following Dalvanak. Each one had an ornate satchel on a decorated shoulder strap. The satchels held carved and graven icons of the tiny biting insects they all submitted to as well as small globes containing those insects.

The Cult of the Malevolent Universe, the Cult of the Defiled One.

Dalvanak led the group deep into the cavern, all of them walking on their own feet instead of floating on disks of phasic energy.

When he, and he was a he because he had decided he was a he, stopped he motioned at the others, which gathered around him in a circle.

Forming something of Dalvanak's own genius.

A "Speaker's Circle", which allowed each Atrekna to use their largely atrophied power of speech rather than open their minds to one another. This allowed each Atrekna to think their own thoughts, come to their own conclusions, without being subtly influenced by more powerful Atrekna.

He pointed up at a single gem, which glimmered with psychic energy. A touch of his psionic powers and the gem glowed, tiny little sparks jumping off of it to represent the planets around the stellar mass the gem represented.

As the others watched, thirty lines of psychic power shot from the gem, touching five other gems. Each of those gems shot out five beams, connecting them to five others, which shot out five more beams. It repeated until there was the central hub, connected to thirty systems, which were connected to five layers of five expansions.

Dalvanak cleared his throat, a painful thing to do, but life in the Malevolent Universe was pain, and motioned at the large interconnected system.

"Behold, the 'Spoked Offensive', the grand victorious stroke by the Ancient Ones that will deliver to them the dominance of the galactic stub, followed by the galaxy, followed by the universe," Dalvanak sneered.

One of the others, a she, for she had decided she was a she after hours of contemplation, shook her head, making her fabulous set of a dozen 'neck ties' she had tied around her forehead to hold her veil in place, swing and sparkle in the dim light.

"A mere hundred thousand stellar systems," she scoffed, pointing at the gems. "Compared to the billion of stellar systems in this galactic arm spur of a galaxy of trillions of stars."

Dalvanak nodded. "Yes."

He waved his hand. "Each system is responsible for temporally replicating the invasion force for the next systems."

"Diminishing returns," scoffed another, who was male due to the fact a dark moon had risen over his fortress where it was hidden on a barren and bleak world. When the sun rose, he would be female, this he had determined through careful meditation.

Dalvanak nodded. "I have determined the reason for the diminishing returns."

The others leaned forward slightly to signify their eagerness for the information and knowledge.

"This universe used chronotron particles rather than strings," Dalvanak said. The others nodded, they too had managed to grasp the subtle yet powerful distinction. "The chronotrons at the point of replication must be matched to the chronotrons at the point of destination," the others all nodded as Dalvanak sipped a drink snatched from the Mad Lemur Tomb World. Flavored liquid in a foil pouch with a straw that was designed to bend toward the top. Dalvanak put the foil pouch back in his satchel and continued speaking. "However, the chronotrons at the replication point become exhausted until they reach a certain low energy level."

The others looked at one another, then at Dalvanak.

"The exhausted replication point chronotrons break into temporal genesis particles, which then pop, to use the technical term I have developed, into full chronotrons, each pop releasing a cascade of temporal energy," Dalvanak said.

"Once the temporal energy cascade becomes strong enough, it would prevent the replication point from being used, as well as all replication points prior in the temporal matrix," another stated.

Dalvanak nodded.

A fifth stepped forward and Dalvanak made a motion, a formal motion to "Yield the Speaker's Square" to the fifth one, a she, who had decided she was a she after escaping a Mad Lemur ambush.

"The strategy depends upon being able to move enough forces into the next system to seize control of it rapidly enough that the Mad Lemurs and their inheritors cannot mount an effective defense before more reinforcements are temporally replicated or temporally shifted into the system," she said.

"Affirmative," Dalvanak said.

"Does their grand plan take into account the Mad Lemur's ability for asymmetric resistance levels?" she asked.

"Negative," Dalvanak stated.

"Does it take into account that each stellar sinking sends up a signal that propagates faster than light and has a visibility index relative to the distance between the system and the observation point, which will alert the Mad Lemurs and the Inheritors of Madness of the stellar mass being sunk?" She asked.

"Negative," Dalvanak said.

"Does it take into account that, by my estimates and computations, which I will make available to any who wish to examine my methods, that in some cases the signal that the system is being sunk will be detectable at a distance of hundreds or thousands of light years days, weeks, even months prior to the stellar system sinking?" she asked.

"Negative."

"So, it merely assumes that the Spoked Offensive will be successful, it does not assume that the Mad Lemurs and the Inheritors of Madness will be able to mount any type of effective defense?" she asked, stepping back.

Dalvanak stepped forward, putting his 'juice box' away, taking possession of the Speaker's Square. "Affirmative. The Ancient Ones have determined that this offensive will be too wide spread, too rapid, for the Mad Lemurs and the Inheritors of Madness to effectively resist," he stated.

Dalvanak stepped back as another stepped forward, this one wearing an impressive full head covering fashioned after a fearsome reptile with fanged jaws and burning red eyes.

"And what of the Mad Lemur Extinction Weapon Systems?" it asked, fire flickering in the jaws of the full head covering mask. "Have any been eliminated or do they still do the bidding of the ghosts of the Mad Lemurs and destroy all they find?"

"They do as they will and leave naught but destroyed Atrekna plans in their wake," Dalvanak stated.

The dragon-headed Atrekna nodded slowly, folding his hands inside the sleeves of his marvelous gown, and stepped back.

Another stepped forward, this one wearing a mask made from the decorative skull of a Mad Lemur, with fabulous colors on it and gems around the eye sockets. It projected prismatic colors that whirled and danced in hypnotic patterns around the sides of its head. It had not decided what it was, feeling that whatever it was lay deeper in meditations.

"You have shown us the plans of the Ancient Ones, do you have the intelligence sources to show us the truth?" it asked, using the language of the People of the Decorative Skulls. The other Atrekna did not mind that they had to use the universal translators they had wrested from the Tomb World.

Many thought the language went well with the skull decor that the Atrekna wearing the mask preferred.

"As of merely hours ago," Dalvanak stated. "I have been watching carefully. Our organization has many who have infiltrated the ranks of the Leadership Convention and are willing to pass us information through secure channels."

The others all inhaled respectively as Dalvanak raised his maimed hand. It was an action they had observed the Mad Lemurs and the Inheritors of Madness performing and they had discovered that emulating it increased their intellect and perception of revealed knowledge.

As they watched the Prime System was seized and the original thirty spokes went out. The "Spoke Bases" shot out the five access gates to connect one hundred fifty systems to the "Spoke Base" and the next lines shot out.

The Prime System lit up with the amber color of "Enemy Forces in System", several of the Spokes stalled on the first or second rung. More and more amber colors popped up, including all of the Spoke Base systems.

"The Immortal Night Fleet has assaulted the base and the Prime System," Dalvanak stated. "Only one ship per, but they have received recent reinforcements from rogue intelligent machine general system ships."

The others all nodded.

"Several worlds had Mad Lemurs in some kind of stasis that awoke when the Immortal Night Fleet arrived in system, others had Mad Lemurs waiting in ambush that erupted into violence during the system sinking," Dalvanak said. He turned and faced everyone, the red of his maddened eyes burning through the veil.

"The Ancient Ones think the Mad Lemurs and the Inheritors of Madness will be dismayed by the rapid advance of the Spoked Offensive. They believe that the Children of the Malevolent Universe will fall back and surrender in dismay as did the Herd Lords and the Hive Lords all those millions of years ago."

Dalvanak shook his head. "I was able to discover evidence to the contrary."

"Will you share?" an Atrekna wearing a full head mask of the feared Hamburger King, the plastic crown replaced by an actual crown wrested from one of the treasure vaults of the Mad Lemur Tomb World.

Dalvanak nodded, reaching into his fabulous satchel, making sure everyone present could see the warsteel-gold alloy logo of "GUCCI" on the hand tooled leather of the satchel. He withdrew a carefully cleaned and inlaid Mad Lemur skull.

The gathered Atrekna drew back slightly. They could sense the rage and hatred still growling within the dead bone.

Dalvanak held it out with his intact hand, at waist level but full arm extension. He raised his maimed hand into the air slightly behind his head, his elbow crooked slightly. His burning crimson eyes flashed brightly and purple energy coursed up and down his ornate head covering. Phasic energy crawled up his arm in a nimbus, surrounding his maimed hand. Dalvanak was whispering to himself as he wiggled his remaining fingers and tendrils of phasic energy slowly moved out to wrap around the inlaid and jeweled skull.

"SPEAK!" Dalvanak commanded.

There was silence for a moment.

HATE! the skull bellowed.

"Deliver unto us your maddened wisdom, from beyond the grave!" Dalvanak ordered.

WOE AND WRATH!

"SPEAK!" Dalvanak repeated.

Above the skull images appeared. Of tanks crashing through muddy fields, moving through forests. Of unarmored lemurs charging emplaced positions with rifles and bayonets. Artillery crashing to the ground, shrapnel tearing unarmored flesh.

The gathered Atrekna watched as the Jeweled Skull imparted visions of military operations that depended on speed and precision. How some were successful and the wars ended lightning fast.

Others were bogged down.

Still others shattered against prepared defenses.

But more were stopped dead by counter-thrust. By a smashing advance of Mad Lemurs willing to die to deny their enemy an inch of ground.

HATE WOE AND WRATH! the skull bellowed.

Dalvanak let the energy defuse as he dropped his hand. He reached into his satchel and withdrew an offering to the Jeweled Skull.

'you'll be sorry' the can squeaked as Dalvanak opened it. He ignored the warning, pouring the thick liquid over the inlaid and bejeweled bone to quiet the enraged spirit held within.

"The Mad Lemurs learned to stop an overwhelming assault before they achieved faster than sound flight," one stated. "They mastered ground combat before they left their home stellar system, mastered stopping rapid assaults in space before they were Glassed."

The others nodded in agreement.

"But wait," Dalvanak said. "There is more."

The others felt anxiety and trepidation fill them.

"The Mad Lemurs are not gone," he stated.

Every Atrekna held their breath.

"My Wall of Screaming Oracles shriek from their bony jaws," Dalvanak said.

Every Atrekna present felt the anxiety increase. The wall was full of skulls carefully cemented into place by a mortar and cement made with ground Mad Lemur bone. The masked Atrekna who wore the mask of the People of the Decorative Skulls had assisted Dalvanak in crafting the wall, in carving the runes and sigils of power into the bone, of crafting the altar they both meditated in front of as the tiny biting and stinging holy insects crawled across their skin.

"They warn that the Mad Lemurs of Terra shall return. At first, few in number. The skulls warn, with silent screams, that should the Atrekna attack those few, then a tsunami of Mad Lemurs will erupt across the galactic arm and devour the Atrekna people in their bloody gnashing jaws," Dalvanak warned.

"And if we do nothing to them? If we withdraw to our dark and secret places?" another asked.

Dalvanak nodded slowly. "Should we withdraw, then what befalls our brethren that disrespect the Malevolent Universe shall not be laid as a yoke upon our shoulders," Dalvanak said.

There was silence and Dalvanak let the phasic power dwindle from the gems, plunging the room into barely lit darkness.

"We must take a vote," one said.

The others all nodded.

"We shall vote: Shall the Cult of the Malevolent Universe remove themselves from our fellow Atrekna, to abandon them as they partake and endure of this suicidal course?" it asked.

There was nods.

The vote was taken.

"Should those of us who have been imparted wisdom through pain, secrets through agony, who have stared into the wind that tore away our breath, remove ourselves to our redoubts and fortresses?" it asked.

The vote was taken.

"We shall make preparations for our exile," Dalvanak said, leading the other back to the onyx wall. Their high heels clicked on the polished stone. "We must complete our preparations soon."

He touched the onyx wall.

"The Mad Lemurs pound of the gates of death, and they shall not hold for long," Dalvanak stated as he slipped through the onyx.

The room was full of gems taken from the vaults and riches of the Mad Lemur Tomb World. They glimmered in the absolute darkness, each gem representing a stellar mass of the Cygnus-Orion Galactic Arm Spur.

They kept their own counsel.


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