Draconic Revelations

“Captain Nova,” I replied. “Thank you for the invitation. I appreciate the Concordat’s recognition of Earth’s sovereignty.”

Ixthia raised an eyebrow at that.

“And this is the rest of my delegation.” Argon gestured to the Omnids on his left and right.

The next to stand was a wolf-looking, silver-furred Omnid. Her lupine skull-face was marked with ceremonial blue warpaint in geometric patterns. Her build was lean, athletic, like a distance runner. Gold cufflinks shaped like crescent moons inhabited the sleeves of her silver-gray suit. She had eyes of pure molten amber.

“Salia Eve Mooncrest,” she introduced herself. “Mooncrest Omnicorp. Representing the Fenrir Council.”

[Fenrir wolf,] Kawathra whispered in my mind. [Mooncrest Omnicorp is one of the oldest Fenrir-majority conglomerates. Significant military-industrial presence in Norse Isles.]

[Fluffy,] Sage added. [Big wolf mommy energy, would pet.]

The third delegate rose. She was enormous, broad-shouldered, with the features of a lioness beneath the silver-gray suit. Her face was regal, framed by a mane of braided gold and obsidian. Her eyes were heterochromatic, one emerald, one sapphire, and they studied me with a cool analytical detachment.

“Marshal Kalimar Amundara Everlight,” she said. “Of Osiris Omnicorp. Strategic Defense Division.”

[Sphinx Omnid,] Kawathra supplied. [According to public records, the Osiris Omnicorp holds a significant portion of the Concordat’s arcane research infrastructure. Marshal rank indicates she’s their military liaison. Sphinxes are concept-binders and question-askers by nature. She can smell lies even better than Linari.]

“Marshal Everlight. I’ve heard impressive things about Osiris Omnicorp’s research,” I stated as the Sphinx examined me.

I had heard zero things about Osiris Omnicorp, but diplomatic lying was basically my primary skill at this point.

“Oh?” The Sphinx’s mismatched eyes narrowed fractionally. “I was unaware that the locals were in contact with Omnithornia.”

[Market me as tha’ sauce of yo wisdom,] Sage suggested.

“My Fox Archmage has been… in contact with a Thunderbird scholar for years,” I added.

“How curious. You are remarkably difficult to read, Emperor. Refreshing. It’s almost like you aren’t here at all.”

The next delegate stood.

[A Thunderbird.] Kawathra clarified.

She was striking. Tall, raptorial, with a crest of black and white feathers rising from her skull in a dramatic fan. Folded wings tucked against her back. Her eyes were silver-gold.

“Grovka Okolish Simmi,” she declared. “Thunderland Councilor. SimmiTech Omnicorp Rep.”

[Simmi!] Sage’s fox-eyes brightened around me in the Astral. [SimmiTech makes a lotta magitek artificery. The Simmi family is OLD. Vespera Simmi, my penpal, is a prima from her clan. Small multiverse, heh.]

“Councilor Simmi,” I greeted. “A pleasure. Are you perhaps related to Vespera Simmi?”

“Vespera is my goddaughter,” Grovka revealed. “You know, I expected a human barbarian. Well met.” She sat down.

Ixthia rolled her eyes at me.

The final delegate rose.

[A Kitsune.]

She looked resplendently graceful in a way that made the word feel inadequate. Fox ears, pale gold, swiveled atop a head of long black hair styled in an elaborate updo secured with silver pins. Her face was delicate and angular, all composure and controlled presentation. Five fox tails fanned behind her, tipped in white. Her silver-gray suit was the most ornate of the delegation, featuring embroidered foxes chasing each other along the lapels in silver thread.

“Kaede Ran Suzume,” she said with a silky voice. “Yotai Councilor. Suzumarii Omnicorp.”

[Eeeee! A real kitsune!] Sage giddily squeed. [Soops cool to see one IRL, she’s got tha’ tails! Five tails means she’s hella old.]

[Suzumarii Omnicorp runs Yotai culture and education ministries,] Kawathra added.

“Councilor Suzume.” I offered a deeper nod. “The Suzumarii reputation for cultural stewardship precedes you.”

Kaede’s eyes held mine for a few seconds. She sat down without further comment, five tails arranging themselves neatly behind her.

Ixthia uncrossed her legs, diamond-studded antlers scattering prismatic fragments across the dais. 

“Wonderful!” the Legate purred with a smug smile. “Everyone’s introduced. Captain Nova, always a pleasure to see the Concordat’s finest… male leading the talks.” A few legates chortled at the ‘male’, clearly seeing Omnid males as the inferior sex, incapable of managing affairs. “Councilors, thank you for making the trip. Emperor of Mankind…” Her silver gaze settled on me. “Welcome aboard. I do hope the local accommodations are to your liking and you won’t try to drive this ship into the moon? Commander Sillicia still has quite a big lease on it to pay off.”

Sillicia swallowed nervously upon being mentioned by the Wendigo Elder.

“The décor’s a bit heavy on the ‘doom fortress’ aesthetic,” I said. “Could use more windows. Maybe a plant or two. As for the second part, only if you behave.”

A ripple of whispers from the holographic tiers. Ixthia’s glowing smile widened.

“A comedian,” she mused. “Earth breeds such in great abundance, I’m told.”

She rose, addressing the full chamber.

“Esteemed Legates. Honored Concordat representatives. We convene today to discuss the ongoing integration of the local Earth population into the greater Omnid community. The current Third Fleet affairs are being managed by Admiral Colette Frontenachii, the Commander of the Sixth Fleet and our Lead Agromancer, Administrator of the Terraforming program authorized by the Legate Council to begin preliminary local environmental-correction assessments.”

Colette inclined her teal-scaled head.

“And now… I’m giving the floor to,” Ixthia turned her gaze on me, “the Emperor of Earth. Princess Aquillianne Quantivia Frontenachii’s chosen Administrator.”

“Thank you for the introduction, Legate,” I said, stepping to the center of the floor. “I’ll keep mine shorter.”

I let the pause stretch. 

Three thousand holographic Legates. Five Stabalists. Saint Nikky sipping cocoa. Ixthia smiling.

“Get the fuck off our planet.”

The Frontenachii made amused noises as if I didn’t just blow up their biggest baddest warship yesterday. Maybe they had short memories.

“Every Frontenachii warship, Corpse Seeker, gate anchor, monitoring hex, and military asset currently in Earth’s orbital space or on its surface must withdraw within seventy-two hours,” I continued. “Also all blood contracts binding pradavarians are to be voided. All colonial charter claims will be rescinded. All integration plans will be scrapped. And you, Legate Ixthia, along with your entire Council, will formally recognize Earth as a sovereign, independent world.”

More chortles. They started with a few Legates in the upper tiers, rolling downward through the holographic forest like an avalanche of contempt. Three thousand Wendigos laughing at the human who dared to give them orders.

Ixthia waited for the laughter to subside, devious smile never wavering.

“How adorable,” she said. “What a wonderfully bold declaration from our charming little barbarian. The Concordat representatives can confirm, of course, that this world was formally claimed under Frontenachii charter by Princess Aquillianne. To whom you, Emperor, are the appointed Administrator. A kobold consort managing territory on behalf of his Omnid superior.” She tilted her head. “Unless you wish to deny the claim you yourself presented to Commander Sillicia?”

The trap was clever. If I denied Shady’s claim, I would be seen as a liar. If I affirmed it, I was admitting Earth belonged to the Frontenachii through their Princess.

[Classic Ixthia sandwich,] Kawathra whispered. [Sneaky beerch.]

“Princess Aquillianne claimed Earth as her personal domain,” I replied. “A domain under her sovereignty. Separate from Frontenachii colonial administration with the actions of whom she is greatly disappointed. She refused to do her blood trial to settle on Earth specifically because she wanted nothing to do with your Empire’s practices. Practices I will now describe in detail for the Concordat’s benefit.”

Ixthia’s smile became a fraction thinner. “By all means. We’re all ears.”

I turned to face the Stabalists.

“Councilors. Captain Nova. What you are about to see has been verified by your own Monitor, May Hydralline, who is currently on-site in my territory examining physical evidence.”

[We are online?] I asked.

[Yes. Broadcasting,] Kawathra confirmed. [Simultaneous transmission to: Concordat delegation direct feeds. Third Fleet open channel. Sixth Fleet open channel.]

[Fox spire signal is strong,] Sage added. [All news channels in Omnithornia rrr’ currently showing your lovely golden mask. The internet is on FIRE. Omnithornia’s trending topic number one is #WendigoGate. We are SO live right now!]

I drew a breath.

“Five days ago, Admiral Evelithria Frontenachii carved a cube from Earth’s moon and obliterated a sovereign island territory to demonstrate her Empire’s power over eight billion civilians. Her Commander executed the President of the United States on live television. Thousands of Corpse Seekers descended on our cities. Pradavarian soldiers bound with blood contracts and their gun units occupied our streets, invaded our government, used Scrutimancy to search through personal thoughts.”

Holographic images bloomed above me, projected by Kawathra through my shoulder holo-emitter. Footage of the moon-cube and the Arctic island vanishing in white fire. The televised executions of presidents. Corpse Seekers tearing through downtown Seattle.

“These are acts of war committed against a civilian population incapable of defending itself against a magitek invasion force of this magnitude! And we are not alone; the Frontenachii Empire has used this exact strategy to subjugate thousands of worlds!”

The Stabalist delegation’s expressions hardened. Salia Mooncrest’s claws extended, gouging the armrest of her seat. Grovka’s crest discharged a visible arc of blue lightning.

“Over the past week,” I continued, projections flashing, “Frontenachii soldiers were deployed into human population centers. Multiple confirmed incidents of violence against civilians! Forced blood-binding of human males! And before that, I can showcase ample evidence of psychological torture via Entertainment Decks! Execution of their own Princess in broad daylight and an attempt to erase her memories! Worst of all, seventeen thousand four hundred and thirty-two pradavarian deaths aboard the capital ship Slayer’s Sword Entertainment Deck alone, spanning one hundred and six years of service!”

“And who provided this… documentation?” Ixthia asked, her voice carrying the bored inflection of someone enduring a tedious weather report. “How do we know that these… dire numbers and holos are true, and are not magitek illusions?”

“The ship herself provided evidence!” I barked, slamming my fist into the table, making it ring like a cathedral bell. “Weapons up in case they try to take her by force! She is under the witness protection of Princess Aquillianne!” Wattica snapped her fingers and her kobolds raised their symbiote weapons.

That was the signal to Noona.

She reached up and pulled back her hood, rapidly removing the cloak.

Pure white scales and mane ignited in the chamber’s light. Gold eyes blazed. Gemstone-tipped fins framed a defiant face.

Three thousand holographic Legates made noises of collective inhalation, a susurrus of shock, growls, hisses, and murmured curses rolling through the tiers like a shockwave.

“My name is Noona Frontenachii,” Noona’s voice carried through the chamber. “Former Commander of 1919 Uprising. Former core of the capital warship Slayer’s Sword. I was spliced into the ship’s control matrix one hundred and six years ago by order of Legate Ixthia Frontenachii and then-Admiral Evelithria Frontenachii. I was conscious for all of it. I felt every death. Every Entertainment Deck session. Every course correction, every orbital bombardment, memorized each kobold who screamed my name from the dungeons built inside my bones!”

The chamber erupted.

Holographic Legates were shouting things over each other in a chaotic cacophony. The wolf soldiers along the walls gripped their weapons. The Stabalist delegation had gone rigid.

Admiral Colette Frontenachii rose from her bench.

The Mbielu dragon’s green-blue scales had drained to pale, chalky white. Her kelp-mane hung limp. The bioluminescent organisms threading through her hair winked away as if they were responding to emotional turmoil. Wide eyes were fixed on Noona with a shocked expression then snapped to Ixthia, who somehow didn’t seem to be bothered one bit by Noona’s appearance.

“Y-you told me you executed her!” Colette growled with a deafening roar.

The chamber quieted. Heads turned to witness the juicy drama.

Colette was glaring at Ixthia with burning eyes.

“You told me,” the Admiral repeated, voice trembling, “that you executed my daughter. You told me she was given a clean death. You told me you gave her that mercy because I asked you to. Because I begged you! How could you do this to MY daughter?!”