Ch. 2 Dreadful Implications

Council member Avrisian awoke abruptly in her lavish bedchambers, bathed in the soft glow of luminescent crystals. The room's opulence was evident, with intricate designs woven into the fabrics and patterns that adorned the walls. Her tall and slender form stirred in her circular, nest-like bed, her movements graceful as she sat up, her golden eyes blinking to adjust to the brightness.

Her gaze was pulled to the holographic projection above a nearby console—an emblem that bore the mark of The Galactic Codex of Historiography. Avrisian's deep indigo and gold attire lay neatly folded, waiting to be worn. She hesitated for a moment. "A summons?" she thought. A sense of confusion and curiosity gnawed at her mind. The projection indicated an emergency summons to the Hall of Congregation, a meeting place of great importance for all council matters.

Avrisian muttered to herself, her voice carrying a mix of confusion and intrigue. "What could be so pressing as to call for such a summoning?" She began to dress, the fabric of her attire was adorned with intricate embroidery and a signifying patch with a constellation of stars intertwined in the palm of a silhouetted avian figure. She called out, "H.A.R.P.Y., what is on the agenda today, well, besides the emergency summons?"

Without hesitation, the dry, mechanical voice of the H.A.R.P.Y. AI resonated throughout the chamber: "Meeting with Hondari Tradesman Galtonna at 0945; Personal Studies at 1100; Regular Council meeting at 1700." Avrisian rakes her talon-like hands through her head feathers to little effect. "What time is it now?"

"0400," H.A.R.P.Y. replied unenthusiastically.

"By the moons, this better be good," she huffed in a puff of feathers. She contemplated the summons as she secured the robe's fastenings, feeling the familiar weight of her responsibilities as a council member. The robe's texture against her Aelorian frame was a familiar comfort as it flowed around her. She could still hardly believe she had been given the authority to wear these robes well over 20 cycles ago.

With determined steps, she left her chamber and made her way through the large corridors of the Galactic Codex of Historiography. The relatively empty halls of the Codex left her with space to think. She pondered the implications of the summons;"Why now, and what could be so urgent?" The Hall of Congregation was a chamber reserved for pivotal decisions and discussions that had far-reaching consequences.

As she walked down these familiar halls, her ivory feathers reflected the gold and blue light that was etched into the walls of the very orbital station itself. These etchings, however, were no mere decoration, as they were the proverbial veins of the station, pumping information faster than a million minds in unison all throughout the station—stories of lost civilizations and mundane recordings of the empire—all kept and collected in one location. As she walked deeper and deeper into the Codex she reached its heart: the Hall of Congregation.

As the doors of the hall slid open, revealing its grand interior, Avrisian stepped into the room filled with the quiet hum of holographic displays. Around the chamber the fellow council members could all be seen sitting around an octagonal table embedvd with hundreds of displays and a single large projector sitting in the center of the table. A diverse array of council members waiting in anticipation greeted her. Their distinctive features and expressions, all Aelorian but all different in color, plumage, and build, had one identifying quality: their distinguishable robes, which signified all were council members. Most expressions in the room hinted at a shared sense of curiosity and concern.

She made her way to her designated seat, passing quiet greetings to those she passed, and took her seat. hovering her hand over the table, the holographic displays lit up according to her personal designs and preferences. With all in order, she looked to her right, and unsurprisingly, the elder Aelorian Tathar was seated next to her, humming away.

With gray and black feathers and a brownish-gray beak, Tathar, known for his audacious ideas and insatiable curiosity even at his age of 145 cycles, turned to Avrisian with a playful glint in his eyes. "Avrisian, you've arrived. I see you're as intrigued as the rest of us by this summoning."

Avrisian nodded in acknowledgment, her gaze steady. "Indeed, Tathar. I have a feeling this might be another of your inventive escapades—perhaps an expedition to excavate a remote moon?"

Tathar's chuckle carried a note of mirth. "You know me too well. But honestly, I have no idea why we're here; isn't it exciting?" He said with an almost youthful smile...almost.

Avrisian let out a soft chuckle and turned back to her displays, her thoughts running through her head. Scanning the room, she looked at the other council members, gauging their reactions to this current mystery summons. Most looked confused, some annoyed, but two stood out to her.

Kalimsar and Devahn were both huddled in quiet deliberation and not in their seats.

Kalimsar, a younger Aelorian of blueish-white plumage, was known to be a man of few words but sound judgment, as far as she had seen, and Devahn, a boisterous, normally jolly Aelorian of black plumage, whom, in a nonmalicious way, Avrisian regarded as one who loved hearing himself speak.

Avrisian had wondered at times if that was why Devahn had so tightly associated himself with Kalimsar, as it had given him someone to speak at length to and would just listen. Her humorous thought was snuffed out by the serious and solemn looks on the usually jolly council member's faces. Avrisian couldn't help but feel a chill go up her back, causing her to sit up straight and give her full attention to the two.

Council member Avrisian's attention remained fixed on Devahn as he stepped forward. The buzz of conversation in the hall dwindled to a hushed murmur as the other council members also turned their focus toward him.

Devahn cleared his throat, and his voice, though steady, carried an underlying weight of solemnity. "Council members, I stand before you today to address a grave matter—an unfortunate incident that has given rise to many more questions than we have answers to." His words hung heavy in the air, commanding the attention of everyone present.

With measured movements, Devahn manipulated the holographic controls, and the large hologram projector in the center of the table illuminated with an image of the "Celestial Wanderer," the exploration vessel that had embarked to Paradisium G-148.

"Before we proceed, I must warn you that the following recording contains distressing visuals," Devahn cautioned, his voice laden with gravity. He took a deep breath, a moment of preparation before he initiated the playback.

The holographic projection came to life, displaying the interior of the "Celestial Wanderer"'s bridge. The scene was utter madness; the bridge of the exploration vessel was screaming with alarms, sparks were shooting out of the different control tables, and the prone figure of a person the recoding identified as Aerin Lunaris The young historian was holding his head and screaming as if he were being murdered.

As the recording played out, Avrisian found herself completely immersed in the scene before her eyes. In the center frame of the bridge's main viewport outside, an enormous black tentacle wrapped around the ship, followed by dozens of other small tentacles slowly constricting the vessel. The monstrous entity stirring the murky brown water below twisted to reveal a gargantuan blue, glowing eye. Heartbeats later, the ship's hull, not being able to withstand the force, crumpled, ending the video. Then suddenly pictures and clips of the poor historian's last expedition are pulled up—all of it played out in haunting detail. The room's atmosphere grew tense as the council members watched, their emotions ranging from shock to disbelief.

Avrisian's gaze remained locked on the holographic display, her heart heavy with sorrow for Aerin Lunaris and the fate that had befallen him. The gravity of the situation was now all too real, and the events unfolding before their eyes were a stark reminder of the dangers that lurked beyond their understanding.

Devahn's voice broke through the silence, his words laden with somber resonance. "These images were the last moments recorded aboard the 'Celestial Wanderer.' As you can see, the situation escalated beyond our comprehension, leading to the tragic loss of Aerin Lunaris." His voice wavered for a moment, betraying the weight of his emotions.

One of the council members cleared his throat. A particularly sour Aelorian of purple plumage named Ekelteis spoke: "Dangerous fauna is hardly a surprise and is actually expected on Paradisium-class worlds. As awful as this is, why did it require an emergency summons?

Avrisian's eyes remained fixed on the holographic projection as it continued to play, each image etching itself into her memory. The council members around her exchanged glances, their expressions reflecting a mix of shock, sorrow, and agreement with Ekelteis.

Devahn spoke up once more, his voice a little shakier: "That is true. However, this recording was taken four rotations ago." He paused, almost trying to stall what horror was to come: "This message came in 2 hours ago as his H.A.R.P.Y. had somehow reactivated and sent out this message."

A small recording dialogue box appeared in the center hologram. static playing for the first 9 seconds of the recording, followed by a warping, twisting sound that resembles metal being ripped apart played loudly, causing some of the council members to cover their ears. Then suddenly, a voice starts coming through the recording.

"....Anyone?"

"Is there someone?"

"help me"

"...im okay"

"im fine"

"I'm lonely; help me."

"come help"

The interface somehow identifies the voice as belonging to Aerin Lunaris. Avrisian's mind and heart raced at what this could mean and the horror left in the vacuum of answers.

As the holographic projection concluded, the room was filled with heavy silence. Devahn's gaze swept across the council members, his eyes conveying a shared understanding of the significance of what they had just witnessed. "Council members, what we have seen is not possible, yet our denial of it makes it no less real. It is a glimpse into a reality that challenges our understanding of the cosmos and our place within it. Our pursuit of knowledge has led us to the precipice of the unknown, and we must now grapple with the consequences."

Devahn continues, "I call to start a vote to alert the Emperor of this unknown existential threat that has shown itself to not only be hostile but highly intelligent; furthermore, I add that we invoke statute 36 of the Codex Amendments-Armatus scholar and aid the empire with our knowledge."

A resonant chime reverberated through the Hall of Congregation, marking the initiation of a critical vote. Avrisian's gaze remained fixed on her holographic display, her thoughts a maelstrom of emotions and realizations. The weight of the situation pressed heavily upon her, and her mind raced to process the magnitude of what had just been revealed.

The two options before her seemed to loom large, each carrying its own implications and consequences. The first choice was to inform the emperor and invoke the Codex's wartime doctrine—a decision that would undoubtedly lead to a cascade of actions with far-reaching consequences. The second option was to let the border world slip into obscurity, allowing the darkness of its existence to be erased from their records. It was a choice that seemed easier on the surface, but Avrisian knew that such a decision carried its own moral complexities.

As she stared at the display, her mind teetered on the edge of a precipice. This was a pivotal moment, one that would shape the course of their understanding and interaction with the wider cosmos. The realization hit her—the first contact with another intelligent lifeform was neither triumphant nor harmonious. It was marred by horror and uncertainty, a stark reminder that the universe was vast and unfathomable, holding secrets that defied their understanding.

Avrisian's internal struggle was palpable as her thoughts raced. She found herself torn between the pragmatic approach of preserving the safety of their empire and the insatiable curiosity that had driven her to become a historian and council member in the first place.

As her finger hovered over the options on the display, a rogue and almost cheesy thought found its way into her mind, unbidden and unexpected. "The cosmic void has given a gift, and it would be rude to refuse it and not sate her curiosity." It was a whimsical notion that clashed with the gravity of the situation, but it lingered nonetheless.

With a mix of resolve and trepidation, Avrisian's finger finally moved, selecting her choice. She had come to a decision—one that balanced the weight of responsibility with her insatiable desire for knowledge. She cast her vote, her action contributing to the collective decision of the council.

As the chime signaling the end of the voting echoed through the hall, Avrisian took a deep breath, her emotions a turbulent sea beneath her composed exterior. The die was cast, and the path ahead was uncertain. Whatever the outcome, Avrisian knew that the echoes of this moment would reverberate through history, shaping their understanding of the universe and their place within it.