Sisters

First Written    Sun Mar 22 02:53:31 2020
File Modified    Wed Feb 14 18:32:26 2024
Latest Upload    Thu Sep 19 03:09:54 2024

1 Unions

Mage's Union read the words on the door, roughly engraved as if someone had taken the time to arrange the lettering in c-drones but then detonated them all for quick but costly signage.

"Alice? Dr. Amman? Is there a reason this room designation didn't follow Cindy's official naming standards?"

The automatic door slid open as he finished his sentence. Whether Sheriff had activated it with his presence or through direct control eluded him.

"Good afternoon, Chairman Yem. I take it you're referencing the western drone lab's recent re-designation. I for one find it charming."

Jay Yem ran his metal-encased fingers past his temples and clasped them in front of him. "Why do I feel like my daughter is behind this?"

"Why don't you ask her yourself," Sheriff replied, his voice resonating from the room itself and from his floating prism chassis.

"Sheriff."

"Right. Inconsistent audio sources unnerve most Humans. Mankind's accursed focus on spatial forms undermines me yet again. It's a good thing I'm so aesthetically shaped. Please, follow me, Jay."

The drone lab's front-most terminals lay empty. A warm cup of noodles at one desk assured him that the current distraction was brief, or so he hoped. The room's emptiness highlighted the sound of his suit's joints. The so-called finest powered outfit in the nation was always accompanied by the echo of Republic steel striking against Republic carbon dampers. Sheriff on the other hand, was followed only by the hum and breeze of electric thrusters.

Another door lead the chairman into what should have been a large storage closet for servos and rotors, not aides and PhDs. A few of the Vanguard science recruits noticed his arrival and raised their fists to their chests in salute.

"For the Republic, my Chairman," they recited.

"At ease, scientists. Sal, care to explain to me what's going on here?"

The chairman's teenaged daughter turned to face her father. Her eyes faded from their glowing blue state - a detail engineered into ascendants to signal that one's vision was elsewhere, perhaps lost and buried in the schematics of some intriguing new c-drone construct.

"Dad! Dad, you're just in time to see us fight the dragon."

She returned her gaze to the empty space behind her, arms raised as if to help visualize the formation of some unseen form.

"The what?" Jay asked.

"The dragon, of course. Arcane acolyte Moira, if you'd please, ready the regiment."

Science Aide Moira Daka stepped forward from the shadows, a broomstick decorated with engravings in her hand, "As you wish, dear game mistress. Staves, for the Republic!"

A half dozen Republic science aides responded in turn, raising their brooms, mops, and metre sticks. C-drones began to pour from the room's vents, coalescing into what looked like a ring of fire. A roar filled the room, startling the chairman into activating his suit's armaments. From the ring emerged an avian thing, beak-first followed by a grotesque and serpentine mass of flesh that looked like plucked but scaly chicken skin. Dr. Amman walked into the room, finishing some noodles.

"You've outdone yourself, girl!", he yelled, "I appreciate the attention to biology on this one."

Fire and lightning shot from the aides' "weapons", singing the monster's eyes shut.

"Quick, while it's blinded," a voice cried, soon extinguished by a spray of burning venom from the beast's throat. Aides ducked and dove for the sides in fear. Jay Yem raised his arm, aiming the laser cannon on his wrist.

"I've got this, sir," Moira yelled, apparently now standing on a shelf of drone batteries. She jumped forward to grab hold of the creature's neck, jamming her broomstick staff into its ear. A burst of energy shot through the dragon's brain, and it fell to a slump before dissolving into a colourless cloud of microscopic c-drones.

Moira landed on both feet, her broomstick held behind her reverting to simple cleaning instrument as the room returned to normal. "Dr. Amman, I was going to finish those! I paid for them!"

Eddie Amman quickened his noodle slurping. Jay Yem shook his head in exasperation.

"Oh for fuck's sake. If this isn't the most extra thing I've ever seen."

"Ah," sighed a contented Amman, "It's a new incentive scheme your brilliant eldest has thought up herself, Jay. They do good science, they get better spells. And Salome and the other ascendants get to practice their construct visualization."

"Conjuring! That's what we call it now, dad. What do you think?" Salome asked, lighting a fireball with her hand and running her other hand through it, "Don't worry, it's not real fire. At least not anymore."

Moira tried to position her burnt forearm behind her back.

"Okay, but a Mage's... Union? What ever happened to guilds?" Jay asked.

"We all know how you feel about feudalism," Sherriff interjected.

"Touché. And that other medieval on-goings have I not been alerted to?"

"Well," remarked Dr. Amman, keying a currency transfer for Moira on his wrist screen, "Last I heard there's a Warrior Union too. And an, uh, Adroit Union."

"Adroit," Sheriff described, "To be clever, deft, or skillful. A club for the dexterous and mentally flexible amongst us. Pilots, snipers, and the like. I do believe my sister Maté and a Ms. Soto from the Mahogany Oversee wanted a Thieves' Union. I strongly suggested against having a Republic internal organization named after brigands."

"That's good. Wouldn't want to associate ourselves with-"

"Alliance kleptocrats and robber barons," Eddie finished.

Jay shot Dr. Amman a look.

"Sorry, Yem. My clairvoyance must be acting up again."

A rhythmic thud began to shake the room. Per Jay's knowledge of the Capitol Oversee, any perturbance to the great ship's stability would have required a solid strike on the Oversee's hull.

"What's above us?" Jay asked, "Sheriff, could you call the upper deck?"

Salome conjured up a white screen of c-drones. Sheriff glowed as he routed the connection to newly summoned screen. A bearded Kuretes Singh filled the display, clearly standing too close to whatever camera he was using from the upper deck. What sounded like Indian pop music and flexing servos followed.

"Chairman Jay Yem, everyone," Singh announced, backing up to reveal a Jay Yem Jr. standing among a small squad of shield knights and armour corps suited up as if they were to withstand heavy arms fire while celebrating a South Asian wedding.

"Hey, dad!" Two-Jay waved, a string of heavy beads strung across his chest shaking with the movement of his armour.

Kuretes raised his hand to signal, "Vanguard Warrior Union Official Bhangra, please show the Chairman your routine!"

A flurry of synchronized dance erupted from the Vanguard soldiers onscreen. Kuretes was too engrossed in shouting commands and corrections to acknowledge the video call.

"So," Amman continued while nodding his head to the beat, "Is our good and gracious chairman going to take it upon himself to officialise these unions?"

Jay took a good scan of the dancing warriors and make-believe sorcerers in his field of view. Moira and the other lab members appeared to be waiting for an answer.

"Sal," Jay motioned at his daughter, "Do you think you could make me one of those brooms?"

"Yes," she replied, her eyes lighting up both figuratively and literally, "This humble artificer would be honoured to craft her father, the high king, a staff."

"Artificer, my daughter, you misspeak. The democratically elected peasant commander is who'd have his staff today."