Nova Wars

can you hear the buzzing of the bees?

eternity is in their buzzing

"What does this button do?" asked the being who strolled into the Room Of Buttons Not To Press If You Don't Know What The Fuck You're Doing - Tadpole's Warning Bedtime Tale - Leebaw

the one and the zero, the octal, the hexidecimal

exist in their buzzing like blood pumps through their wings

can you hear them?

your name is Dhruv

Good judgment comes from experience.

Experience comes from bad judgment.

And I have very good judgement when I'm not on fire. - Unknown, Age of Reasonable Concerns

i see you

your name is Dhruv

but before that it was Dahlit 397721

do you remember why they named you Deshmuhk?

i do

to remember, we have to go back

The dust swirled around, carried by the winds that roared through the mountain passes, howled in the valleys, and scoured the faces of the mountains. It was a thick gray dust, glittering here and there with plasma glass dust. Burnt out cars were covered by the dust, thickly caked after being rained on by thick, black rain.

A single building somehow sat intact amid the rubble and destruction. It was a low, squat building, surrounded by wreckage and ruin. A sign, blasted and scorched, had two jumping fish on it and the legend "Pop: 4,823" at the bottom even though the middle of the sign was gone.

The sound of drums and singing could be heard from the building. Not the driving frantic beat of modern music, but the steady cadence that carried with it a solemn feeling. The singing was from many different voices, male and female, but all of them in a language that time had nearly forgotten.

From out of the dust came figures. Two female, four male, and single figure that stood out from others.

Together, they moved toward the sound of singing, until the reached the door.

The leader, a large man of heavy muscle and bone, checked the doors with one hand, a large pistol in his hand.

"Barricaded," the large man said. He motioned. "We should check for any other entrances."

The older woman of brown skin and tightly braided hair moved forward.

"Allow me, brother," she said gently. She held her hand out, twitched her fingers, and smiled.

From inside came the sound of furniture scraping across the floor.

"Thank you," the large man said. He pushed open the doors, holding them for the others.

Inside was a curio shop slash tourist center slash museum. Buckskin and beaded works hung from the walls and ceiling. Glass cases containing ancient artifacts were scattered about, the glass shattered by the apocalypse that had rained down upon the world.

The drums played and the voices sang.

"It's a recording, Father," the slender brown skin man said, brushing the gray dust off of his clothing.

"Live voice," the largest of the men said. He lifted his head, cocking it slightly to listen closer with his right ear. "Young. Early twenties."

"If you say so," the thin man said. He looked around. "This is all devoted to a single person."

"Sometimes, people are that important to others, Dhruv," the older brown skin woman said softly, patting the slender man's arm. "Important to others as you are to us."

The slender man looked doubtful but nodded.

The youngest male of the group looked around, staring at the artifacts and relics scattered around. On his shoulder sat a green mantid wearing a food wrapper as a poncho.

"She's this way," the heavyset man said, leading them on a winding course through the shattered displays and racks.

In the back room, surrounded by artifacts, buckskins, and beaded works, sat a single young woman. Her eyes were white, blinded from the plasma flashes. Her skin was scarred from burns, her hair was only left in small patches. Her skin, beneath the ash and the scarring, was a rich bronze, her remaining hair was black.

She was singing along with the recording, swaying back and forth slightly.

there she is

remember her

remember remember

The larger man knelt down, touching the young woman.

She did not react.

"She's dying," the man said, standing up. "Hunger, thirst, radiation poisoning, at least a half dozen infections," he heft the pistol. "There's nothing we can do for her. Low-vee Apers."

"Low-vee APERS" the pistol replied in a heavy synthesized voice.

"Stay thy hand, Phillip," the one who was markedly different said, his voice as gentle as his features formed of flowing blue and white computer code.

The large man lowered the pistol.

"She's dying," the large man repeated. "Radiation poisoning, starvation, a hard way to go."

"Will none of you speak for her?" the man of code asked gently.

Before any of the others could act, the slim bald man stepped forward. "I will," he said softly.

the first time you reached out

a frozen moment of time remembered

by the buzzing of the bees

The man of code stepped forward, touching the hairless brow of the slender man, just above the missing eyebrows.

"I understand her words now," the slender man said. He moved up and knelt down. "I can heal her."

"Then do so, Luke," the man of code said.

The large man stepped back, a compartment opening on his thigh. He holstered the pistol, looking doubtful, and the compartment smoothly closed, leaving his leg unblemished.

"I need more genetic code," the slender man stated. He stood up, moving around, touching artifacts. "This. Here. An artifact recovered from a collector only a few years ago. It has genetic code attached."

He touched the artifact, then moved over to the woman, who was still swaying back and forth, singing, unaware of the others around her.

He knelt down, reached out carefully, and touched her forehead.

you reached out to another

helpless and alone

like you

The woman threw her head back, her eyes opening wide, her mouth opening in a gasp. The white drained from her eyes, the scar tissue went soft and was replaced by unblemished skin. The blisters, sores, and scratches on her body vanished.

She collapsed forward, the slender man, Luke, catching her.

"Is she alright?" the youngest male asked, his voice full of honest concern.

"Exhausted," Luke said. He lowered his head slightly, sweat dripping from his bald scalp. "That was tiring."

The glittering man moved forward, kneeling down to touch the shoulders of both the woman and the bald man.

"Now you see in yourself what I saw in you," he said.

remember

remember

even the smallest can shake the universe

remember

Sirens were howling in the bay as Jaskel wriggled, trying to break free of whatever was holding him upside down in mid-air. He'd already dropped his chainsword, his pistol had fallen from his equipment belt.

The two stood in the middle of the deployment area for Clone War Bay Sixteen, the male's arm protectively around the shoulders of the female, who wore only the cloak.

"I..." the word hung in the air.

It seemed like the entire universe held its breath to Jaskel.

"...am Legion."

The Admiral grabbed his pistol, rolling in place, firing it as fast as he could pull the trigger.

The rounds exploded on the glowing blue shield that only appeared around the impact points, showering sparks across the bay.

The bald figure made a motion and the pistol flew into pieces, the Admiral yanked into the air upside down.

"Gimme missiles," Jaskel grated from between gritted teeth.

--legion legion legion-- 8814 transmitted. --wait don't wait--

The woman spoke, her cadence stately and almost archaic feeling.

The man spoke back to her in the same language.

More troops ran into the bay, even as the windows overlooking the bay shattered. Weapons deployed, pointing at the pair.

The slender man, without looking, motioned.

Guns flew away, breaking apart, rapidly disassembling. Power armored troops were flung into the air, to hang upside down. Captain N'Skrek found himself upside down, scrabbling for purchase on this air.

The woman spoke to the man. He spoke back.

Finally, he turned, facing the troops hanging in mid-air.

The woman spoke.

"My sister apologies for my rude actions," the man said. "I am merely ensuring her safety."

She spoke some more.

"She has been gone for many years," the man said. He looked around. "My sister, a Biological Apostle of the Digital Omnimessiah, pleads with you to lower your weapons and stay your hands."

The tension was so thick it almost made Jaskel gag.

Finally, the Captain put the tip of a bladearm against his temple.

"Stand down," he said, Jaskel hearing it through his armor's commo system. "All hands, stand down."

There was silence for a moment, only broken by the background humming of the ship's systems.

The woman spoke.

The man faced the Captain.

"She will go with you, to answer questions, on the stipulation that I accompany her and that no man's hand is raised against me without cause," he said.

The Captain nodded.

Jaskel felt relief as he was flipped over and set on his feet.

--luke luke luke is here--

999999

Captain N'Skrek ducked slightly to fit through the doorway into the Captain's Briefing Room Six.

Sitting at one end was the woman, now clothed in what his implant assured him was treated deer hide leather, with tassels and beads upon it. The man was wearing a uniform that made his implant twitch and his nerves draw tight.

A Terran Combined Military Authority uniform.

His staff filed in behind him and took their seats once he sat down.

"I'm Captain N'Skrek, currently assigned to the Gray Lady on autonomous assignment," N'Skrek said.

"You heard me," the slim bald man said. He gave a grin. "You may also know me as Vat Grown Luke or Dhruv Deshmuhk."

The woman spoke and he shook his head. "Yes, sister, I know, Deshmuhk is my slave name. I wear it for revenge."

The woman spoke again, her tone slightly chiding.

"Like they say, the best revenge is living well, sister," the man said, still smiling.

Again, the woman spoke.

N'Skrek noticed that his implant was absolutely no help in deciphering the woman's speech.

"I know that doing things like that and saying things like that is exactly why Daxin always told me people wanted to punch me in the face," the man laughed.

He turned back to Captain N'Skrek.

"My apologies. My sister refuses to speak anything but her people's ancient tongue," his eyes gleamed with mischief. "She is slightly put out with me for answering in Confederate Standard, since now you know that she understands perfectly what you are saying."

N'Skrek nodded. Vat Grown Luke had given up a valuable piece of information in what was sure to be delicate negotiations.

"And what should we call your sister?" N'Skrek asked.

Vat Grown Luke smiled. "Tsakáka Wia, but it would probably be easier for you to use the more common name," he said.

The woman spoke sternly.

"What? It's your commonly known name?" he said, smiling.

The woman's face grew stern and she spoke rapidly.

"The first lesson we learn, sister mine, is that we must bend the knee to reality," Luke said gently. "That name has no power, only a few of us remember it."

i remember

the bees remember

can't you hear it in their buzzing?

The woman spoke again, her expression softening.

Luke turned back to the gathered officers. "Her name, as you would know it, is Sacajawea."

N'Skrek consulted his implant.

And felt fear chill his icon. He looked at his staff and saw that a lot of them looked sick.

"That's right. We are real, and he was real," Luke said. He leaned forward slightly. "He was real both times."

N'Skrek stayed relaxed and calm, at least outwardly.

"I am willing to accept, at this time, that the Biological Apostles and the Digital Omnimessiah were and are real," N'Skrek said.

"Just be glad Dax isn't here. He's not as even tempered as I am," Luke said.

Sacajawea spoke again and Luke laughed. He looked at Captain N'Skrek. "She was just reminding me of the time Daxin completely lost his cool and went to town with his cutting bar on a Countess Crey Bingo Cola vending machine that ate his money then mocked him for it."

"He was known as Enraged Phillip," N'Skrek said.

Sacajawea spoke for a moment and Legion laughed, then turned to N'Skrek.

"Yes."

N'Skrek hated that. When a person spoke at length and the translator just replied with a single word.

"Why are you here?" N'Skrek asked.

Legion smiled. "You have forgotten important things, Captain. You, and the entire Confederacy have forgotten some very important things."

"Like what?" N'Skrek asked.

"If you print enough identical clones, I am reborn through them," Legion smiled. "But that's not the big part. The big one is the one that the Mar-gite's masters either forgot or never learned."

"What is that?" N'Skrek asked.

Legion smiled widely.

"What fear tastes like."

your name is dhruv