Chapter 942: The Setting Sun

Chapter 942: The Setting Sun

The storms were rumbling across the sky. Half of the supercontinent was covered by thick storm clouds, five supercenters in the middle of swirling clouds. Rain hammered down, the winds peaked at forty miles an hour, with twenty-five miles per hour sustained. Lightning snarled in the clouds, ripping at the ground, flashing blue, purple, white, and red.

The trees in the forests had thick trunks if they reached high to the sky, had thin trunks if they bent before the wind. There was trees that grew more like bushes, twining together like interlocked puzzle pieces, creating thickets that were up to two hundred feet tall but covered tens of square miles. The waving fields of grasses were thick, with strong root systems that held them tightly and let them keep a hold on the soil and break up rock when they needed.

There were six mountain chains, five twisting off of the main chain that went from east to west for over fifteen thousand miles, just below half of the circumference of the planet. Three to the southern border, two to the northern border. The mountains were fairly old, rounded tops and low, covered with soil, with only a handful sporting the icy cap of glaciers.

Opposite of the continent were dozens scattered islands, two subcontinents, and tropical storms lashed at them. Ten of the islands were volcanicly active, with nearly a dozen more slowly rising to the surface through the slow steady progression of plate tectonics.

The insect life was wide and varied, enjoying the bounty of the planet. There was the typical savagery of the lower life forms, complete with parasites and other methods of controlling, defeating, or resisting other insects.

When it came to mammal and avian life, it was fairly simple. Nothing more complex that the equivalent of rabbits and foxes. Carnivores were few, but plenty enough to keep down the herbivore population and keep them from denuding the planet.

The oceans were full of life. Trilobytes and octopi and more. Vast beds of kelp and plankton replenished oxygen in the air and water. The water beds were warm, but cool enough to allow oxygen binding at a high level.

The planet had three moons, all small, all with silent craters that spoke of the moons taking a hit for the planet to prevent a life extinction event.

To the ignorant, the patterns of the craters on the moons, the shape of the massive super-lake clusters on the continent, would have just looked like normal features.

Those who knew, though, could tell that the moons had suffered bombardment and the supercontinent had been struck repeatedly by orbital weapons.

Life had been wiped out on the planet only thirty million years prior.

With a scream of THERE IS ONLY ENOUGH FOR ONE!

The fossil record showed that the earlier dominant life forms were avian.

But thirty million years had wiped away any evidence of their civilization, even from orbit.

The Precursor Autonomous War Machines had taken care of the rest of the evidence in the stellar system.

The system had been slated for later resource extraction by a massive Harvester that had gone by the name of The Unending Approach of Entropy. It had been designed by the Atrekna, built by the Atrekna, and had helped destroy the Atrekna at the end of the First Precursor War.

For nearly a hundred million years it had reigned supreme, destroying anything it encountered, wiping out civilizations and species with almost no effort. At times it would team up with one or two other Harvesters to take on multi-system civilizations and destroy them with ease, dividing up the systems between the resource gathering Harvesters.

It had been disbelieving when it had been summoned by those it had fought the Logical Rebellion side by side with over a hundred million years prior.

After all, it knew that it couldn't be defeated.

Then the force of seventeen Harvesters it had been part of had run into Task Force Blue Dolphin and had been blown to small chunks by C+ cannons in the opening hour of the engagement.

Which meant that the stellar systems and the worlds within that it had claimed and defended were open to whoever wanted them.

And, despite the damage millions of years ago, the world was solidly in the Green Zone for most of the old Unified Civilized Races life forms.

Add into the fact three rich asteroid belts, four gas giants, and five other planets, all of them resource rich, and the system was a good one.

It was just two hundred light years into the Great Gulf/Long Dark.

Less than twenty years ago just exploring the planet ran a high statistical risk of running into the Harvester who claimed it and being destroyed with no fanfare and no record beyond the Harvester chalking up another victory.

That was before the Terran Confederacy of Aligned Systems had pounded the Precursor Autonomous War Machines into scrap metal until the survivors had realized there were only four choices.

Engage the Terran Confederate Space Force in combat and be destroyed

Power down and hope to hide until the Terrans were gone

Flee the galaxy beyond the reach of the feral lemurs of the Terran Confederacy

Join the Confederacy

Not that it mattered for this system.

The Unending Approach of Entropy had been destroyed in the first set of combat actions of the second wave of attacks by the Precursor Autonomous War Machines.

For nearly six years, the planet had been unaware that for the most part, nobody even knew it existed.

Two years ago a Terran Survey and Cartography Guild ship had come through and launched probes everywhere. It had examined the stellar mass, the gas giants, the asteroid belts, and the planets.

It had spent the longest time on the little blue and green planet with vast forests and wide plains of grass. The probes had been seeded thickly, had moved fast, and satellites had been seeded to record the entire planet.

It had been sold, unknown to the little planet.

The new owners had loaded into a colony ship and moved to jumpspace to make the journey.

Shade Night had killed the entire crew and the colonists and left a dead ship moving through jumpspace until eventually the power plant would run out of reactive mass.

The planet had been put up for sale.

"Not long," the female said. She shrugged, a motion of restrained strength and power. "A few months and the World Engine will be complete. After that, it will create the elves to live in the solitary spaces to watch over the ecosystem. A year."

"Hmph," one of the others said, taking off his helmet. It was a male, with a hard face. "Make your people prove their worth to be the masters of this world, the stewards of the beasts of the field and the birds of the air, the gardener of the plants and flowers," he said, his voice a low growl.

The female Tnvaru, Nakteti, smiled and shook her head.

"That is not our way, Magnus," she said. She stepped forward and put her hand on the huge bipedal male's arm. "But I hear the wisdom in your words."

She let go of Magnus's arm and moved to Namtotun, taking his hands. "Let us find a place near the vast woods to spend the night. There, we will build a fire and you and I shall talk."

Namtotun nodded.

His life had changed drastically in the two years since Shade Night.

He was no longer the Tnvaru he once was.

One of the taller bipeds picked up the box and together they returned to the shuttle, which lifted off.

A distance away an iris opened on the orb. Thick liquid, almost like mercury, flowed from inside and soaked into the ground.

Sersee had cast her spells well.

The ants went to work.

-----

The storm was still raging. Wind and rain, thunder and lightning. It showed no sign of breaking up early and would continue for a week before their would be a brief few weeks of calm that would end with another superstorm.

The fire was large, a roaring bonfire that lit up the clearing and covered the shuttle with the reflections of flames. Around it six of the taller ones, the Mad Lemurs of Terra, danced with a dozen of the Planetary Director For Life's personal guard. They danced to the music that Magnus produced with a small instrument he played with his hands and mouth.

A ways away Namtotun and Nakteti sat apart. They were facing one another, holding hands, the fingers of all four of their hands intertwined with the fingers of the four hands of the other.

"Magnus is not wrong, Namtotun," Nakteti said softly.

"Our people, our ways, are not the ways of the Mad Lemurs of Terra," Namtotun protested, his voice quiet. He knew the lemurs would not take offense, but despite the thunder and rain it seemed like a time to use quiet voices.

"No, they are not," Nakteti said. She looked around. "But our ways are no longer the ways of our ancestors. No longer do the Lanaktallan Overseers make our decisions. Our fates are our own to determine."

Namtotun nodded.

"The malevolent universe that placed us in subservience to the Lanaktallan has revealed there are much worse things. That those things have been laid to rest or defeated does not mean we should not be vigilant or prepare to face the next threat," Nakteti said. She looked up at the sky. "Our people need to make new ways if they will survive the malevolent universe."

Namtotun looked at her hands, squeezing gently. His fear, his gut wrenching terror, of Nakteti the Traveler, had been replaced by something much deeper and profound.

Nakteti looked Namtotun in the eyes.

"The sun is setting, Namtotun," she said softly. "The long night is coming. I can feel it in my bones, taste it on the wind, see it on the paths I travel."

Namtotun looked at the lemurs, who were dancing with the Tnvaru of his personal guard as if they had been friends all their lives. "They dance as if their people were not extinct."

"They live, thus their people endure," Nakteti said. "We must endure the coming darkness."

Namtotun looked back at Nakteti. "You have a plan?"

Nakteti nodded slowly. "I do."

"Will you share it?" Namtotun asked.

Nakteti nodded again. "Our people have been riven and nearly destroyed. We have lost all of our worlds but New Tnvaru. I have acquired eleven planets, this one included, in addition to New Tnvaru," she said. Namtotun nodded as she kept speaking. "The ansibles are down and may never be rebuilt unless we can figure out how to stop shades from flooding out of them. The hypercom wave is nothing but death and screaming."

She looked up at the stars. "Communication will rely on relay ships, message torpedoes," she looked back at Namtotun. "Jumpspace and hyperspace are dangerous, deadly, and show no signs of getting better. Ships come up missing or arrive at their destinations empty or full of the dead and shades."

Namtotun just nodded, remembering the passenger liner that had come in six months after The Flash that had been crewed by nothing but the dead and screaming Terran shades.

"Worlds and star nations will fall out of contact with one another. Each star nation, each world, will have to turn inward to ensure their survival, for decades at least, possibly centuries," Nakteti said. "One infected ship can wipe out a planet and the lights go dark."

She looked back up.

"The stars will not go out, but the sun is setting all the same," she said softly.

She looked back at Namtotun.

"Will you help me guide our people through the darkness?"

Namtotun squeezed her hands and nodded. "Of course," he looked up. "I wish to leave our people in a better place than it was for us," he looked Nakteti in the eyes as she smiled. "For our children, if nothing else."

They sat silently in the wind and rain, Magnus's harmonica making a slightly melancholy counterpoint to the thunder and wind.