Guest Chapter - Diary of a Slimy Commodore

Written by Thanatos_6883

Edited by Srinlife

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Guest Chapter - Diary of a Slimy Commodore

Written by Thanatos

Well, this is it. It was not something I was expecting to happen, but great change is not often expected.

Haven has entered a state of total war. It is true that we are publicly still at armistice with our enemies, but I received the reports. Every nation other than those who have allied themselves to us are considered enemies until then. This is because their nature is overwhelmingly human.

As the highest ranking member of my people, and second only to General Edel, There is quite the load on my shoulders that I must lift. Literally making your own crew, as well as the crews for the proposed increase to our naval fleet, it leaves me in a constant state of fatigue.

But still, even a king, or in my case a commodore, gets his a bit of time. I had scheduled with my assistant to give myself free on each sunday. This time was considered my 'reflection period', something our patrons, the forest elves, found important to our internal growth. On these days I was able to cast off the mantle of 'commodore' and just be myself.

Normally, my clan stayed on the ships they were assigned, and until additional groves were developed, they were not all to visit at once. Groups of my clan were given 'liberty' off the ship. This was to ensure that the ship was always sufficiently manned to sail in a moment's notice. I was a bit different. Due to my accomplishments, I was able to keep a small room in the grand tree of my mother Grove. There I returned to my original form of a cute little blob.

It's not that I disliked my humanoid appearance, but it was truly just a mask to make the weak minded more comfortable in my presence. And also to make my enemies feel more intimidated. Contrary to my natural form, my humanoid form was quite intimidating. This was fine for me. I did not particularly care for most humanoids. And as for humans, I generally disliked them. With few exceptions the majority of the humans i have met have an aire of superiority, as if the other races are here at their whim. They may see most of us as seekers of refuge, but the ones that stand superior seem to forget the chose to come here, making their presence more optional than ours.

Plus with all that bluster they can't even withstand a bit of vibration.

I remember when we received the initial reports that the Sarween Technocracy had successfully replicated our technology, creating a railgun. I was a bit worried, until I saw that their casualty count was so high they had to abandon the project. When i read that part of the report, I laughed so hard I reverted to my natural blob-like form, rolling on the ground. If I could cry, I would have shed tears laughing at their inadequacy.

I thought maybe we would be given the chance to take the HAS Monarch out for a stroll over to the public raid dungeon. A chance for a bit of 'show of force' while venting my frustration against these meatbags. I thought about the air maneuvers and manning required to pull of this stunt as I left my room and wandered into the capital. It was still fairly early in the morning, since we didn't require as much sleep. My 'day off' was a bit longer than my fellow Havians.

On strolls like this, I like to find small gaps in between buildings, squeeze in between, and laze away there. Normally the solids will go out of there way to talk to us transmuted, since we rarely are seen outside our groves, and almost never in our natural form. So it is nice to have a quiet place to relax and listen to the world's vibrations.

I had recently discovered one of my favorite spots. It was between a Demis Smithy and an Elven Bakery.

The air that one would normally 'smell' forces vibrations to tune slightly different, and although we could not 'smell', this subtle shift in the air caused the ambient vibrations to sing, this melody reminding me of the day I was given my purpose and celebrated by our patrons, the elves. This bread's 'smell' was the same as the bread that was served to celebrate the approval for a second grove, thanks to my innate abilities. Along with the rhythmic pounding of hammer on metal and the warmth of the furnace on one side and the oven on the other, well, if there is a place for transmuted when we leave this mortal coil, I was sure this was it. If I could recreate my favorite elven basket bed here, I would.

Although I was not tired, I slept. And it was probably a good thing my kind didn't 'snore' otherwise my peaceful sleep might have shaken the walls of my favored resting spot.

I dreamed of my people, hand in hand with the forest elves who took us in and sacrificed their own growth to give us a home. I though of my father Urik, the creator. He who produces the variance that gives us such marvels as the Monarch, or that Giant Golem thing my sister's clan makes.

Then my mind wandered back to the present. It wandered back to my current duty. Tomorrow, I would be led by an elite team into the training dungeon, and spend my time increasing my level. We had tried to use my offspring to reproduce my kinetic dampening traits but it did not work. So the task is up to me.

I was tasked with raising my level, with assistance of my handlers, from 36 to 40. Then i would sacrifice 4 levels to sire one transmuted. At level 4 they were capable of semi humanoid form and vocal communication with the tuning fork, so that was the minimum level. They really force leveled me, and this was how i spent my mondays through fridays. Force leveling. Saturdays was training on the ship. Sundays were my rest.

Transmuted do not feel fatigue like the other races, however this workload, I can only describe myself as 'tired' after each day culminating in 'exhausted' by Saturday. I feel we aren't made to reproduce at this rate, and this toll i take is because of it. My objections were met with an additional handler, who would cast [regenerate]. It worked to restore me, but the fatigue was still there.

Why did they have to upset the balance? Why did those solids have to flaunt their false superiority. Why did they have to declare total war?

I am conflicted. There is a part of me that wants for War, wants these twenty years to pass quickly, to show the solids what happens when you pick a fight you cannot win, and serve them a piece of humble pie, along with several hundred high speed rounds from the Monarch. The other part of me, that of coexistence, wishes that the stupid humans would relent, sue for peace, and let Haven take its rightful place as the apex of the continent. Part of me wants the prey to struggle, the other wishes for it to give in.

At least I will be able to show my people's purpose. The killcount for my clan consists solely of one mountain.

My thoughts become jumbled each time I split, and the answers I had at level 40 become questions again at level 36. Is it an effect of losing stats? I envy those like Milian who works with her partner. Or those with a Parasite passenger. If I could have someone to help me think through these problems, I might not go in circles with every thought.

How did this mess even start?

Why can't humans coexist?

I do not have time to think about it.

I should focus my thoughts, so Lord Serin can depend on me, for the memories of the entire Aegis family, and for the inevitable fall of Mephystra of the purifying flame.

We have much work to do.