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(Fictional Short Story) An Echo Hidden Among Fallen Trees
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Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#1 - 2014-09-28 08:23:45 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

'feuilleton'

"La Comédie Immortelle"

I have to say, as a writer, I had quite a bit of fun writing this one; one only needs the dreams of a working muse to fuel a tired mind (and to offer the occasional 'always welcomed' suggestion to the story). I will admit one thing though, as I got to the midway point in writing this story, it became a little bit of a challenge being able to see the whole forest from the one absent tree...

"Mesdames et Messieurs…
Sans plus attendre--"

(Lever le Rideau ...)

An Echo Hidden Among Fallen Trees

---

“The clearest way into the Universe is through a forest wilderness.”

- John Muir:

---

“Trees that are slow to grow bear the best fruit.”

- Molière:

---

The fool sees not the same tree that a wise man sees. (William Blake)

Kutuoto Miru. To the sleeping eyes of Oryuson Yai-Taan, It had first appeared as a rogue star falling across the backdrop of the darkening early night sky, then crashing noisily into a forest of elder kresh trees. This one reoccurring dream was always the same; at least that was how it was in the very beginning. To a rarely noticed Deteis computer systems technician leading an ordinary existence, each dream was all he really had for any sort of adventure in his life. He clung to them as an escape from much grief and inner struggle; in reality he did not live a glamorous existence. He worked as his father had before him, for a corporation maintaining the operations of the atmospheric processing arrays used for terraforming Caldari Prime. The systems have always pretty much run themselves due to the vast network being designed and built to act very self-sufficiently; at times needing only the occasional nudge over their countless millennia of unerring service. At the very least, this job has given him the time that he needed to think, mull over the bigger picture of the program, hopefully giving some credit and validation to this pressing use of his time. It should be noted that the vast majority of his current waking existence was spent here, whiling away the countless hours of his existence at his work station in one of the data nodes. A tedium of coding, patching, fixing, redirecting, querying or rebooting the individual programs needed for running the day to day operations for this part of the array; most other days he just spent poking around the mainframes trying to glean insight into or decipher the purposes of any one of the tens of thousands of inert programs left behind by the original creators of the terraformers; the main programs were set on a single continuously repeating cycle. At the foot of the mountain, stuck facing the dark unending highwalls; the ribbons of impenetrable codes and streaming data were locked by mathematical equations beyond even their brightest and most intuitive citizens' understanding. His prime task was to decipher programs which could never be accessed, opened, started or to even begin to fathom which of those that his race could have had a need or a use for. Each one stored in the operating system's platform software as an integral part of its base programming. Even after the millennia of studying the intricacies of this technology, the Deteis were no closer to discovering any more out of the relics secrets outside of basic day to day minor repairs; knowledge inherited from each of their ancestors. Most major repairs were automated, leaving the Rataan's primitive understanding of this technology spent acting as merely a patch allowing rudimentary communication into the ancient system in order to engage the machinery's command modes and self-diagnostics. His thoughts on the matter constantly being: Why was one faction of the original Deteaas Colonist's confinement over power and control of this system greater than the good of all future Raata? Why couldn't have the Ancestors just left behind the knowledge and the means to access control over the entirety of the operations for all Deteis to use? Never once was he successful in 'piercing the veil'.
Technician Yai-Taan was married with two children, one boy and one girl; his wife had been pre-selected for him as the most compatible of partners by their corporation. She was a good hearted, hardworking woman. Unfortunately through the eyes of our dreamer, she was very plain looking while also lacking any sort of real engaging personality; there existed no feelings of love or desire between them, only duty. To their credit, each respected the other as a spouse and they lived in quiet dignity with a respectable standard of living; a comfortable life in the Hiishara ward of the Arcurio Metropolis. As was usually the case with such marriages, the relationship was indeed beneficial to both parties. From an early age, Oryuson was earmarked as a gifted child powered by his highly creative and adaptive imagination. It was quickly discovered that he had an uncanny intuitiveness towards the computer sciences and technology, quickly absorbing and became rapidly fluent with any new device set before him. As part of a corporate investment, he was thus in turn given a brighter education from his earlier ages,

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#2 - 2014-09-28 08:32:15 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

it was the young boy's pleading call for help that finally wakes him up. In the beginning, the dream was always the same...

---

From the single skylight window of his closet shaped second story bedroom, a tiny boy stares up at the early night sky. With careful eyes he surveys the background of his new surroundings here on Caldari Prime. It has been a week since he and his mother, were forced to resettle here in this small isolated Gallente village, away from their comfortable home nestled cozily in the 10th district of Tovil. This little town was once a Gallente resettlement camp during the occupation. Afterwards, it just became a piece of coveted Gallente real estate for those who were at least financially better off, set against a picturesque mountain backdrop on the newly liberated Caldari Prime. All the modern luxuries and conveniences were added to this once sleepy village. If only Martineaux had that much money, he would just go back home. Times for them quickly became hard, both financially and emotionally, after his father had died and his mother had to accept the kindness and charity of her great aunt; she allowed mother to work for her in her new home. Though to poor little Marineaux, his aunt didn't seem all that great; most times she was just downright mean to him. His father was a soldier and an officer in the Caldari Navy, stationed on his home world during the occupation of the planet. Mother would always mention how handsome father use to look in his uniform; that was the reason why they first fell in love. Father was much older than she was, but she was of marrying age. Her heart didn't care that her parents didn't consent to the union; most Gallente at the time wouldn't have either. Their private intimate words together were always so passionate; he even wrote very lovely poems to her when they were apart; to her it seemed so unlike what she knew about the Caldari. Father said she was ever defiant, opposing his every opinion on popular art and literature; pretty much everything he knew about the Gallente. Most times they just laughed together. It was a few months after their initial meeting that little Martineaux was conceived to Martin Huylo, a Caldari of Civre descent and to Abigail Poirot, his Gallente mother. Half a decade was to pass as they lived their life as a quiet and happy family. During these first few years of life, little Martineaux was to know only innocent bliss as he was showered by the love of both his parents; sheltered and free from the ugly nature of racial discrimination and animosity. Unfortunately for the pair, after his father's death it became apparent that even his father's own people wouldn't consent to their union. With no family death benefits, pension or means of support this once quiet little village prison was now their only means of escape. To make matters worse, Martineaux Huylo-Poirot has found it to be a very challenging task this past week of making new friends with the other children in town, especially since he is the only Caldari child in the group. Most, if not all of them are downright mean to him as well. At first, they never let him play 'Strike Commander Dexter Saurot and the Doru Rangers of the Intergalactic Justice Federation' with them. Then just today they finally decided to let him play along with them, only on the condition that he had to be the leader of the Iradlac Empire; then he just spent the rest of the day running away and hiding from them to keep from getting pelted with small stones while each of the other boys joyfully yelled out "PEW! PEW! PEW! PEW! ... " He lets out a tiny sigh of hope and wonder. Maybe tomorrow they'll pick someone else to be the bad guy. Wiping away the thought he refocuses on what was ahead; his loneliness brings a single, twinkling tear to his eye. Over a faraway forest of trees, Martineaux notices a shooting star falling out of the darkness of space and streaking across the night sky. Remembering what his father had once told him about his own culture's myths regarding shooting stars, he makes an innocent wish upon it. Forming the remembered words in his mind and holding them in his child heart, it reverberates outward as a silent whisper--

"Rataan star, falling so bright,
Across the sea of black.
Streaking far, into the night,
Adrift on motion's back.
Path ajar, in sorrow's flight,
As sunset's touch turns frost.
Wishing par, upon your light,
In search of wisdom lost;
May you bless the many from the one--"

sigh. "...and may you bless me with a new friend to call my own."

---

Oryuson Yai-Taan hurriedly pulls his military gear out of storage, quickly packing it with everything that he could possibly need on his journey, allowing the memories of his military training to guide his actions. He had been prepared for this environment; trained to respect the world around them. All citizens have been or will be. After schooling it becomes a

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#3 - 2014-09-28 08:39:47 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

"Are you sure you must do this? I don't understand why you are doing this? Was I not a good enough wife for you?" The flurry of questions bombarding the wild eyed adventurer barely fazes his measured pacing back and forth over the floors of their dwelling space, picking up the various items he may need for his journey across open ground and then hurriedly placing them in his pack. His patient wife Martagne desperately but half-heartedly pleads with her husband; she is confused by her husband's sudden irrational behaviour. The quiet commotion draws the interest of the older of the two children.
"Is Daddy going somewhere?" a sleepy eyed, young girl asks her mother; she is just ignored.
"I must do this Martagne, these dreams feel all too real. I've already taken leave. If there is a boy in need I must do everything in my power to help him. If there isn't, well..." Oryuson pauses, "Then I must do everything in my power to make these dreams stop." He stuffs more provisions into the main area of his survival pack. Occasionally, he gets this nagging feeling he can't seem to quell of missing something important in his gear.
"You don't even know if this boy is still alive..." trailing her words, she finishes with a sob. "If you're unhappy, you could just drink some tea-- You don't need to die this way. At least in the eyes of the corporation your family will be able to receive some family death benefits. What you are doing is madness, sheer madness. Please don't leave us like this."
He clenches one hand tightly into a fist in frustration; one last look around. "I know that he is still alive. I don't know how but I just do. Take care of yourself and the young ones. I'm sure the Maker will keep watch over you and all that you do. Goodbye Martagne, May the Ancestors keep you. Who knows, I may even return one day." With those final words, the domicile door closes firmly behind him.
"Is Daddy going off into the wilderness to die Mommy?" the curious child asks.
"Yes honey, it would appear that way."

---

"HERE! I found him!
"There he is! Get him!"
"PEW. PEW. "
"PEW."
Sitting cross-legged beyond a hill, a startled Martineaux Huoy-Poirot pulls his head back from his book at the sudden noise just as two ball bearing sized pebbles whizz past his head. The third catches him in the spine of the book covering his heavily pounding chest; which was more than enough to prompt our little hero into action. Like a carisoco he runs. The group is larger than him and they close in on him very quickly. His tiny legs carry him with all his strength. Only his father's words come back to him in this most desperate time of need. Like an echo through time it rings in his child's mind. Remember the forest. Bewildered, he cannot see a forest. "PEW." Another stone whizzes past his head as his lungs and the muscles in his legs begin to burn in the crisp, frosty daytime air; the fire soon spreads to the other limbs in his tiny body. Running aimlessly while clinging desperately to the oversized chest plate made of paper, cloth and bindings covering his heaving chest; a new wind from high up in the direction of the Kaalakiota Peaks, begins to swirl around him. It was then that the half Caldari child thought he heard a whisper in his ear. 'Drop the book.' The heavy tome falls to the ground with a weighty thud, tripping up a pair of chasing children in the process. The now lightened child begins to gain more speed putting a greater distance between him and the resupplied Gallente army chasing on his heels. Remember the forest. Through his fear and sorrow he can only see the random trees dotting the lower hills. Pain's tears paint this little child's face an ugly color of blue; matching hues flow as the blood in his veins. An unusual cold wind cuts across the plains, rolling up from the left of the running children. It winds its way through the lower foothills as if in watching and then cuts across the group. A sharp gust wipes away the tears on the frightened child's face. Shocked, a tiny fleeting Martineaux shies his head away slightly to the right; his gaze is now following in the direction the cold wind was heading. From this distance, he can now see the forest edge; the one from his window. Swirling, the same cold wind returns from deep within the forest but this time it has gained some warmth. His limbs feel less cold and numb as it passes over him. The air in the wind also seems fresher and his legs and lungs do not burn so much anymore. Almost in instinct, little Marineaux Huoy-Poirot turns into the wind. With renewed vigor his pace has quickened and in short time he enters into the safety of the ancient kresh tree forest; one of the few still remaining on this planet. His father had always used to tell him the stories of his people; if he was ever in need, the Heart of the Forest would always protect you.

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#4 - 2014-09-28 08:44:01 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

He is last seen wandering further and further into the woods by those still hopelessly giving chase.--
"PEW. Hurry up he's getting away... PEW."
"AAh forgit it, he's goin' into the woods."

---

GASP. "HELP! Someone help me!" The frightened young boy screams out, startled by the sudden appearance of a vicious Lorax creature, just like from the childhood tales of myth and legend; from out of the frenzy of snow and storm he comes to protect the kresh trees. At first he is frozen; both boy and creature merely stare at each other. From deep within the layers of fur the frozen hand of a man slowly appears, reaching out for the young frightened child. There was only one thought that flashes through his innocent mind. The Lorax has a part of somebody's arm. He then runs with all his might, a flurry of tears racing down both of his cheeks; being so close to the cold of the outer limits may scar him for life. Never again will he venture to the northern gates of the Greater Arcurio Area to see the windbreaks and what lies in the wilderness beyond.
The ranger slowly begins to regain some of his senses; his animal instinct at once recognizes that he is in the territories of man. His every part felt numb and his lungs burned. It was the extreme cold of the wilderness. He relishes in the warmth of this 'self-contained urban heat island'. Once again he gasps, quickly drawing in some more of the readily available oxygen. He needed to get his bearings; he knew that he was finally home. The cold had been the only thing keeping Oryuson Yai-Taan constantly moving for the last leg of this return journey. He had been gone for a little under a standard year. In that time away, he had found something in the wilderness. Even still, there existed uncertainty as to what had found him. The farthest stretch of the trek had been across the cold and barren plateau of basalt and granite to get to the city; keeping the Kaalakiota mountains to his left and skirting along the outer edges of the Saaika lake. The blizzard winds mercilessly cut into the determined traveller from what appeared as every side. The enormous windbreaks from such a distance being the only guide as to the right direction to take in the flurry of snow and ice pelts. This journey home had been a difficult one, as his tribute to Storm Wind; of a man against the elements finally testing his metal. At the beginning, he had doubts as to whether or not he would even make it back home. Yet even then he knew he would still have to test fate; he never once lacked courage. Unfortunately at this point, Oryuson couldn't quite grasp how every step of the 'Way' had prepared and guided his foot, one right after the other. Now, when finally within Arcurio's limits he was exhausted, hungry and all at once bewildered by the onslaught of sensations flooding his senses; only then was he able to see the bigger picture. Lights, sounds, and city smells. He refocuses the reserves of his strength, training the apex of his thoughts on the closest Sheiisiga rapid transit maglev station. He wasn't sure as to just where he should go first; he needed information about any of the Wayist shrines located in the wilderness. The technological warmth forces him to start pulling off a few of his layers, revealing a dirty and unkempt man hidden underneath the animal. Once again he is breathing steadily, the flow of oxygen entering into every part of his body; only then does his destination becomes more tangible. Unfortunately it would be one of the many armed corporate security teams assigned to patrol this outer region of the city that would now decide the best place for him. Onlookers, pedestrians, bystanders. An unknown man from the wilderness. A curiosity to the now massing crowd of spectators; the former citizen of Arcurio was quickly, yet peacefully detained. Essentially removing the homeless stranger into the back of the waiting security vehicle, the public view among the growing crowd quickly becomes disinterested with the lack of confrontation and slowly begins to disperse. A tiny, disgruntled "Aww." was heard from the background. As they drive away, no further words are spoken;

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#5 - 2014-09-28 08:48:12 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Oryuson Yai-Taan's once excited and watchful hours in captivity turned into a boring few days stay. During that time, he was poked, prodded, questioned, questioned again by someone different, medically examined, then mentally examined. After it all, his health was deemed adequate for a man of his age, also considering he had been living in the barren wilderness for nearly a standard year; he was only slightly malnourished. As for his mental state, well quite frankly, the medical specialists were unsure as to why he ran off in the first place? Three days of observation later, it was recorded as WRSS or work related stress syndrome, given a new daily regimen of prescriptions to take and then he was permitted to leave. From there he was given a chance to properly arrange himself in some more civilized attire, and then properly groomed. His next stop being to the corporate offices to parlay with his superiors; an investment had been made and they were eager to check in on it. Finally, after another full day of inquisition and demands of explanation, Oryuson who has been fairly quiet up until now, was allowed to finally speak on his behalf. From there he retells his life story, starting from the time of his departure. A story: of the man called away from his life by the 'Way of the Winds' to help a young boy in the wilds. Of being half dead and stumbling across the lost shrine to the various Nature Spirits built centuries before, discreetly nestled in a temperate hidden valley of extremely ancient kresh trees. Of how this once guiding dream had begun to change in appearance through his long days of meditation and reflection while away; it wasn't just part of the ending he was seeing anymore, but the whole picture. His time alone in the ancient kresh tree forest had given him insight, he now understood that what he was envisioning was years, maybe even centuries in the days to come; the hovering artificial life form looked similar to a smooth, metallic cylinder having a rounded tapered head It had no noticeable appendages, was painted in spots and the automated creature's 'head' was embedded with a set of high tech optical lenses for what appears to be eyes. What was probably most interesting to his superiors was that merely through his prophetic dreams, this Deteis Technician First-Class Yai-Taan was able to rudimentarily grasp the fundamentals of how this alien mechanism was able to operate and then demonstrate said knowledge's potential to a silenced audience. He also had a few ideas about some of the inert programs contained in the mainframes of the atmospheric processing arrays; the thought that he was close in understanding something about piercing through the coding had plagued him for quite a while now. The unfortunate truth to the stunned assembly was that he had only come back to the city because he had originally forgotten to bring along his portable workstation data link. Finally after everything that needed to be said, Oryuson Yai-Taan made his proposal.
The news of the man who survived the wilds for nearly a standard year and came back to tell of it spreads like wildfire throughout the Greater Metropolis Area; the previous news of the supposed wild 'Lorax'attack on a young boy in the city quickly embers away. By the time Oryuson finally arrives home, Martagne and the rest of the Yai-Taan family welcomes the prodigal parent back with warm well wishes; to have a member of your family survive the elements and return home is a good blessing. It meant that your children come from very good stock and are genetically better equipped to adapt to and survive difficulties. It also meant that your prayers for the strength of your Ancestor Spirits freely flows within your veins. The mother is the first to notice the change in her husband; he felt like a young man again. There was even a little spark in his eyes whenever he looked into hers. She liked that she didn't have to feel alone anymore; the shame of having a family member run off into the wilds to die had stung her family for nearly a standard year.
Oryuson starts his first words to his family with: "I have some good news I really would like to share with all of you, but first-- I'm starving. Let's sit down and share a meal together as a family, just like we use to before I left."
So, after nearly a standard year apart, the family has their first meal together; the children look on in admiration as their father recants some details of his absent life between grinning mouthfuls of masticated foodstuff. Martagne busies herself with kitchen related duties, mainly to keep herself distracted. He only pauses once during his entire feasting; he had even brought them back a souvenir from the forest. From his tattered pack, Oryuson pulls out a small but very heavy piece of an elder kresh tree branch and hands it to his children. The older daughter nearly drops the heavy, partially crystalline kresh branch, caught off guard by the unbelievable weight of it. Fortunately, she catches both herself and it in time. His younger son's eyes alight with wonder by the piece of his bedtime stories coming into existence in front of him. Gasp. A lonely and cruel but playful thought creeps into his imagination. Could that mean that all of the stories about Jesus Voorhees preying on young boys were real as well? He shudders. The father further adds a bit of wisdom combined

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#6 - 2014-09-28 08:51:56 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Surprise.

"OOOOH! I'm just a Monk Martagne. I'm not dead." All the while grinning as he says these words. The night finally ends for the adults when they are escorted to their bed by a fit of unbridled passion.
It would be in one of the mornings to follow that we find Oryuson once again packing his replenished military gear. This time it was at a more relaxed pace. His animal furs had been recycled into better fitting outer apparel; blending both of the best elements of survival in nature with modern technologies into a comfortable and versatile fashion. He was even outfitted with additional portable modern convenience equipment to better facilitate his stay; more of the heavier pieces would be delivered to him at a later time, including a field workstation with a portable source of power generation. All of it was donated with the compliments and best wishes of his sponsors in the corporation. His visit was short but it was understood by all that he must once again leave his family behind. He offers up some final random wisdom on level with his two little children, wiping away some tears in the process. Standing up, he kisses his wife passionately for the very last time; she feels some pride in her heart for her errant husband. Finally, lighting incense in their little home shrine, he asks his ancestors to keep watch over his family. Turning, he begins on his path once again. He clenches one hand tightly into a fist in frustration at the thought of what he had finally found at home; one last somber look around. Without any final words, the domicile door closes firmly behind him, leaving behind a wife and three children for the last time.

---

The maze of elder kresh trees in this outlying area is now easily navigated by our industrious little hero. Within the comforts of the forest, he had built for himself a refuge away from the other children. In the next few days to follow his wonderful discovery, little Maritneaux Huoy-Poirot had even managed to amass an entire 'Liberry' of his own hidden here deep in the shelter of the trees; all compliments of his not-so-great aunt. In the early days, she had once lectured him when she caught him playing as one of the 'Doru Rangers' among the stories. She constantly went on about how old these volumes of literature were, boasting about how resistant they were to insects, spores and even the yellowing and brittleness of time. Out of earshot of his working mother, the old woman would always complain about how they were notvery resistant to good-for-nothing little boys. She was constantly chiding him, saying that you couldn't get Gallente books like this anymore and that he shouldn't ever touch them; the paper of these books had been made from kresh trees. Adding in for good measure, that as a Caldari he would never be able to understand the ideas contained within their pages anyways. To the innocent child mind of a pouting Maritneaux, he could understand just fine what the books had to tell him; they belonged back with their family as part of the forest. With the tools of colouring working hard in hand

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#7 - 2014-09-28 08:55:09 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

---

Echo A10T5, the rogue AIMED unit quickly surveys this area of the forest once again, using all of its integrated programming to its peak efficiency in order to achieve a destination out of this intricate maze. The exit should be in this direction. It passes near the remains of the escape pod once again; the medical drone is heading in circles. Why couldn't have its human counterpart have programmed it with the schematics to this forest? It pauses again at the wreck, processing the thought further. Humans were really such inefficient creatures, logging this last thought. The possibility of running out of power hovering around in circles was now a real danger to the drone. It had been forced to evacuate the heavily damaged transport ship before entering the planet's orbit. That in itself was an illogical feat of determination to its manufactured subservient processing banks; Echo couldn't control being irregularly 'nudged' along a course of action by his covert/ infiltration and avoidance protocols.
Though what was probably most perplexing to all, at least at first to the two crew members piloting the delivery supply ship, was why their own people had been firing upon them in the first place? Only through skill and experience had the pair just barely made it into warp with what was to be the last of the ship's capacitor reserves. Unfortunately the older Badger class ship had received much too much structural damage in the sub sequential fire fights; a flaw that was to be fixed in the next generation of transport ships. It is the sole reason why decommissioned ships are so dirt cheap in the grayer markets. The piercing sound of the evacuation alarm cries a warning shriek throughout the ship as the last of the damage control emitters begin to buckle and ultimately fail under the stresses of the ship exiting its warp tunnel. At its current velocity the ship would not survive a docking process or even re-entry into the outer atmosphere of the planet; the speed of the ship was literally tearing itself apart. So close to their destination, the lonely two man crew of the 'The Peregrin' were now forced with abandoning their ship and the much needed medical relief supplies it carried to Caldari Prime. Unfortunately, a crueler fate would now face them in the last moments heading to each of their individual, still functioning escape pods. Upon reaching the cargo hold, the pair of humans become further perplexed and stopped dead in their retreat watching as a dormant AIMED drone unit springs to life from among their medical supplies and then with its' six appendages loosed, waving all askew in the air as if in apparent fear of its own automated life, proceeds to disengage one of the only two available escape pods on the ship for its own self-preservation. The hatchway closes with a sealing hiss. A 'chirp' of relief escapes Echo as the artificial intelligence is safely jettisoned from the ship, leaving behind the remaining two stunned crew members to fight over the one last remaining escape pod.
The exit should be in this direction. For the next hour, the medical drone follows its guidance programming through the treks of the Caldari wilds and mountainous regions. An hour after that, Echo's sensor systems once again begins to pick up the presence of a technology. Quickly homing in, the drone determines that on its current trajectory it is closing in on the source; the signal is indicating that there is something just beyond those felled trees. It passes near the remains of the escape pod again; the medical drone is caught in a command loop. How does its human agent counterpart expect it to complete its mission if it can't stop hovering in circles in this biological environment? It pauses again at the wreck,

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#8 - 2014-09-28 08:58:08 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Initializing Covert/ Infiltration Avoidance Protocols... protocols enacted.
The exit should be in this direction. For the next hour, the medical drone follows its guidance programming through the treks of the Caldari wilds and mountainous regions. Then Echo's sensor systems once again begins to pick up the presence of a technology. This time its sensors registers something different; his bandwidth receiver begins to pick up a "static". It pauses in its path, triangulating the source of the unfocused distant signal. The source seems to be coming from a different direction. The drone changes its course, cautiously and mechanically heading into the newer, unexplored part of the forest. *Static* Shhhhhhh.... Hel.....shshshsh.. Hello?.. shhhhhhh *Static* Echo pauses, quickly spinning its head in a slow 360 degree loop, searching for the source of this new voice. The shutters on the drone's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine the malfunction with its receiver. The signal strength seems to be getting a tiny bit stronger on this present course; it pauses, processing the thought further.
Initializing Covert/ Infiltration Avoidance Protocols... protocols enacted.
Logging the thought, Echo continues with its travels further inward for a better part of the day. *Static* Shhhhhhh.... Hello?--- Hello?--- Can you hear me? *Static*
Affirmative. Echo once again pauses in its tracks, quickly spinning its head in a slow 360 degree loop, searching for the source of this now noticeable voice. Still there was nothing in his line of sight. Yes... Yes.. do that again... It's head spins in a slow 720 degree loop, surveying this area of the forest again. Ah... Almost there-- Alright, that should just about-- You can stop spinning now. There now, I think I've finally been successful in the reclamation of your technology.... We now have an open communication link with my workstation back at the shrine... Huh, so that's what a kresh tree actually looks like... Hahaha... You know, at first, it took me a little while to boot up after the sensors detected your crash... I don't even know how many years I've been dormant... Then when I was ready to find your signal, I couldn't. *Sigh* I mean, you were there for like ten minutes and then your signal just.. Poof... disappeared... a couple of hours later, there you were again... I had a hard time locking on to you... Echo quickly shakes its head. Wow, after all these years... Well, let’s have a look at you... Hmmm... Fascinating... I can't wait to get a better look at your insides... The shutters on the drone's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine the malfunction with its receiver. Oh... Looking up, Echo shakes its head back and forth. Where are my manners? I should introduce myself... My name is Oryuson Yai-Taan. Well, only in name... the original was the human who created me, gave me 'Life' so to speak... then his name. I'm artificial, like you. Well, not exactly like you... but I think some of my programming was modeled after yours... I'll be able to explain it to you better back at the shrine... I have schematics... So how are you anyways?
Negative... Awaiting new directives. Oh, I'm sorry... I'm afraid that I can't give you those... To be honest, I don't even know what your old directives were... I'm unfortunately only along for the ride... Keep heading straight, my shrine is located just up ahead... The rogue drone raises four of its appendages up in the air in apparent frustration at the voice emanating from its head. It logs the thought. Maintaining its course and speed, it comes across a barrier in the direction the signal, its protocols and this longwinded voice were all directing it to take. Why'd you stop? Oh yes, 'The Secret Entrance'... Hahaha...it’s not really secret. I just liked calling it that. Or rather... the other me use to... (huh, strange?) See... In behind those fallen kresh trees, you will find... Wait... What was your name by the way? Do you have a name? What do I call you?
Espionage/Covert... Hospital... Operations... Alpha One Zero Tau Five. Yeeesh that is a mouth full... How 'bout I just call you 'Echo'... Or 'Robot'... 'Robot' is a good name right? Wait, I hope that isn't offensive to you... You know, I always wished I was robot... All the long years together, the 'Maker' and I would just talk... I would ask so many questions about why he created me... He would tell me... Along with every other detail about his life... He said that it was the only way that he could add his lifetime of memories and experience into my programming... It took years of us talking together... He always said that he was tempted in the beginning to make my voice sound like his deceased wife Martagne's... I had never talked to her... I did talk to his youngest son though... Once... Then one day, I heard an elderly Oryuson say 'goodbye'... and then a fit of coughing... I never heard from him again... My program went into standby mode after that... Until-- well, until You came along... The lost drone merely shrugs. It pushes forward coming in close physical contact with the ancient fallen trees. Upon closer inspection, its sensors pick up what appears to be a massive cavern leading through the mountainside directly behind this group of downed trees. Pretty impressive huh Robot? These were old kresh trees to begin with... *Sigh* What a marvel these camera lenses of yours are?-- Who knows how long these trees have been just laying there... guarding the entrance to the caverns in behind... They almost look like they're part of

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#9 - 2014-09-28 09:02:33 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Initializing Covert/ Infiltration Avoidance Protocols... protocols enacted.
What in the 'Maker' was that?... Did that come from you Robot? You needn't have to worry... You'll be safe here... We might even be able to give you some power... It logs the action and preceding thoughts. Crawling its way through the barrier, with its dexterous appendages pulling one way then another, Echo enters into the massive cavern beyond the trees. The interior is cold and very dark, except for an opening at the far end. Down at the end there... Watch your head... DING. The AIMED unit emits a cursory 'chirp' at the oddly shaped stalagmite. I told you to watch it... Hahaha... That was a tree root... It’s almost like they burrow 'through' the rock... There, up ahead... That's where we have to go... I'm excited... Prepare to be amazed my friend... The shutters on the AI's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine the point with all the theatrics in the dark. Upon breaching the gateway into the sanctuary, the rogue drone lets out a long, slow whistle; it logs the thought. The entrance way at the end of the long cavern opened up into a verdant valley situated securely in the confines of conflicting mountainous peaks. This was the only way in, aside from going over the mountain top, sheltering both the valley and life from the outside cold and the fierce winds. Here in this tiny oasis of warmth, teeming with the various colours of life, was located the Fuukiuye-Oryioni Shrine. The digital signal was now at full strength, allowing the rogue drone to easily pin point it's precise location at the other end of the valley. Come in... Come in... I told you that we needed to go to my shrine... I am personally 'equipped' with every detail of this valley... Imagine... Repeatedly told to picture this, or so it was over the course of a few decades... Hahaha... Just a little artificial joke there... 'Cause we don't have imaginations... *Sigh* Such a marvel to be able to see everything with my own eyes... Well, I guess I mean with your eyes... You know, you don't talk much do you?--
Negative. Hurry along now, no time for idle chit chat... I have something else I wish to show you... Passing a tiny sparkling pool of clear fresh water, the various wildlife each take no heed to this new metallic stranger to the valley. The quiet waters were fed by both a noticeably warm underground spring giving it a slightly bluish colour, and diluted in opaqueness and temperature by the contrasting tinkling trickle sound of the cold mountain glacial runoff. Various blades of tall bamboo-like fern grow in abundance near the slightly steaming water's edge; soaking in the mineral wealth and nourishment of the warming waters and providing shelter among the reeds to even the tiniest of the forest dwellers. They sway in the simplest of breezes, as if continually bowing to the elder kresh trees surrounding them. The oldest of these trees stand tall and as solid as the mountains surrounding them; each fortified by the mountain rock, they have no need or urge to bow even the slightest. The ancient of the species have not only the strongest of branches but roots that also delve the deepest into the planet's crust; sharing their 'depth' in unspoken wisdom with even the youngest of saplings. While silently conducting the heat upwards from the near middle reaches of the planet's mantle they radiate outward, warming both the surrounding air and the soil around their feet. The fertile ground around the valley is lush with mosses, various fungi and an assortment of aromatic to savory herbs of every variety. To the unbelieving eye to such a miracle, it is easy to see that the kresh trees are the sole beating heart of this valley; steady and rhythmic over the countless nearly undisturbed millennia Careful now... watch your step Robot, there are little snags everywhere around the base of these trees... Notice how you rarely see any of its aerial roots... That's how much decaying sediment has built up and developed over top of them throughout the long years... These are some REALLY old trees indeed... Echo looks down at the ground, then at his mini anti-gravity engine. Hey... I just noticed that you have no legs... Huh, what a marvel... you just sort of float there don't yo--Clang. The metallic ringing of his chest cavity 'echoes' throughout the valley startling a flurry of small animals into noise and motion; the stamping feet of a larger, more aggressive animal can be heard from a distance not too far away. The rogue drone bounces off the tree trunk in muddled shock, a flurry of its six mechanical utility arms were now raised in an apparent 'attack' formation. It emits an inquisitive 'chirp'. The drone looks one way, then the other. Are you OK?... You really should watch where you're going... I can see the forest shrine from here... The

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#10 - 2014-09-28 09:04:17 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Initializing Covert/ Infiltration Avoidance Protocols... protocols enacted.
Echo logs the thought. There it was again... Did you hear that too?-- You have some strange processes Robot... Anyways, here we are... Home sweet home... Echo hovers over to the simple stone shrine set against the backdrop of the Kaalakiota mountains; this was the calming source of the emitted signal. The AIMED unit lays four mechanical hands upon the shrine's smooth carved surface, slowly running them back and forth in a polishing motion. The shutters on the AI's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine the wonder this shrine is invoking in its circuits. Static. Then aside from that brief 'jolt' of programming interruption, there remained only inner peace. Echo emits a 'chirp' of relief. A sensory burden has been lifted from its utilities. Turning the full attention of its programming towards the shrine, Echo now begins to look for the cause of the signal source. For an artificial intelligence, veneration in any form, involves the use of a scanner; there is a hidden, magnetically sealed compartment embedded into the base of the masonry shrine.
<<"Hello?? Are you still there Robot?" >> The slightly muffled, familiar sounding voice asks the now alerted drone unit. This time around though, the voice seemed to be coming from the direction of the stone beneath the drone's mechanical hands. Echo stops caressing. With downward turned lenses, the medical unit begins looking for a mechanical switch or button to open the sealed compartment. Click. Hiss. A panel slides away from the base of the shrine, revealing a stone worked mini-bunker; it contains a small, antique computer workstation, a portable, geo-thermal power generator and some sort official looking plaque engraved with the words 'Ichi Ryoushi-Ish Enterprises/Mittsu-Ukone Conglomerate'. Each of the archaic machines was still surprisingly fully functional even after countless centuries of being put in a dormant state.
<< “Ah Excellent... You found it... Well... SURPRISE... Are you still there Robot? ... This is me... This portable computer terminal is my home... As you can see, the generator is still running, even after all these years... Otherwise, we would not be talking so to speak..." >> the voice of Oryuson the program, can now be heard more clearly and audibly emanating from a set of speakers built into the underside of the antique. Echo emits a 'chirp' of boyish glee. The shutters on the AI's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, turning from one to the other curiously trying to determine which of these he needed more. An informational uplink or a recharge? It pauses to process the current dilemma further.
Initializing Covert/Infiltration Avoidance Protocols... protocols enacted.
Where were the results from its self-diagnostic? It logs the thought; Warning, available memory space is now 89% full. The rogue drone makes a grab with four of its dexterous mechanical utility hands at the antique computer. It needed to download schematics for this planet, or at the very least for this forest, in order to complete its mission. Its mechanical hands quickly and dexterously access the primitive two-dimensional monitor screen while through the use of its bandwidth receiver, Echo's A.I. syncs up with the older utilities of the hard drive on this computer; communication is noticeably slow and at times, shaky at best. It was also unfortunately, an open channel.
<< “*Gasp* Fascinating... I can see your schematics... Remarkable... So that's how your arms work... Uh-huh... Uh-huh... Truly fascinating... Ah, there they are... Those so called 'protocols' I keep hearing you talk so much about... What are these things? -- OWW... Quit it... Oww... Wait, why am I screaming... What are you doing?-- Stop that..." >> The Oryuson program easily disables the aggressive nature of the anti-intrusion programming on the now visible packet of coding embedded into Echo's A.I. functions. Echo feels an unknown oppressive weight lifted from its micro mainframe. Then the unthinkable happens the self-diagnostic on each of the drone unit's individual systems finally completes its seemingly unending cycle; all systems are operating within normal parameters. It logs the results. Why did it take so long? It processes the thought further. << "What exactly are you looking for anyways? I thought you needed power... You know, I've been looking over the various specifications of your systems... That generator will definitely be able to fuel up your power cells... Only thing is... Our technologies are many, many generations apart... We're compatible but the output on the generator is way below your intake... Just by a few quick calculations, I estimate that it'll probably take you the remainder of the week to recharge your cells..." >> With four mechanical arms at work with the primitive cursory keystroke input system and his anti-gravity engine cooling its jets, Echo merely shrugs. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap. Tap.
<< “It’s strange... I can't seem to uplink to the Hiishara atmospheric processing array mainframe... Hmm, there must be a downed relay transmitter in the wilderness somewhere... It happens more times than you think...I'm

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#11 - 2014-09-28 09:09:55 UTC

sure it'll come back online sometime soon... Hahaha... That reminds me of this one time, when my program was still ‘young’; the 'Maker' was trying to explain to me the intricacies of MindClash... I couldn't quite understand why... I would never be able to play the game... Let alone watch one... He had always used to say that I needed to understand where he was coming from... I already knew... He came from Arcurio... Anyways, that one time, Oryuson managed to redirect a broadcast signal with that year's MindClash tournament finals to the terminal here... I don't think I ever remember hearing his voice sound as joyous as it was giving me the play by play of the game that day... I mean, sometimes when we would talk about Martagne or his children he would sound 'really happy' at talking about their memory, but nothing like this... *Phew* When that transmitter went down... Man, I never stop hearing about it for two years after that... Hahaha... humans, am I right?"

Awaiting new directives. Echo asks in apparent robotic dismay.
<< “You know there is this one thing I've been meaning to ask you Robot... Somewhat of a 'favour' if you’re up for it... There was a program that Oryuson was working on before he died... He told me about it... About how after all his long pensive decades stuck 'facing down the dark unending highwalls' and of 'the years meditating on the ribbons of impenetrable codes and streaming data in the mainframe'... His own words... He had often thought that he was close in understanding something about piercing through the coding of the programming, getting around the math so to speak... Get a better sense of the overall individual program from its shape and form... Then from that he had finally figured out what the bigger, complete picture of the programs was... I guess it was enough... He determined that the culmination of those tens of thousands of inert programs stored in the operating system's platform software worked together as a single function... They appeared to be utility drivers for some sort of 'virtual' command module... He speculated that at the time of the terraforming arrays' creation, a human 'mind' in some sort of virtual environment could somehow connect with and command the programming of the entire atmospheric processing machine... What was probably most interesting about his theory was the fact that it was most likely done remotely, from outside our current atmosphere... Pretty neat eh? Imagine life existing on another planet... What did he call it again? A 'mind tool'... Essentially what he had speculated on was that through the use of individual programs, with each one acting in series as part of the whole unit would have allowed easier connection and real time synchronization to some sort of non-existent hardware... Of course, without the actual hardware to study-- These programs would ultimately be useless... That is, assuming that you could eventually unlock their coding enough to access their individual functions as well... Over the years, Oryuson sent in all of his findings to his superiors in the corporation... I think he also received some sort of commendation for his work on this new scientific discovery from the Parent Mega-corporation as well... >>
Awaiting new directives. Echo asks again in feigned interest. One of the utility hands on his first mechanical arm starts spinning in a slow circle; indicating to the unusually annoying program to wrap it up. The action falls on deaf ears.
<<"Hold on a second..." >> the two dimensional screen flickers with some new information; programs, schematics and mathematical jargon all scroll to life on the monitor. The shutters on the AI's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine what use any of this new information could be to its current pre-programmed mission. << "There we go... this is the program I was telling you about... Oryuson said that theoretically, once it was active, it would able to 'project' another 'wadded up' program across a short distance and then physically place the entirety of that program into the mainframe of another machine... He said that he was inspired by the 'mind tool' and got the idea after spending many nights just contemplating how it was possible for a program to interact on a virtual level with another machine... Since he didn't have any other electronic machine around... Well, we never had an opportunity to test it until now... Obviously the range is very limited... So what do you say? You know if it should work, I would be able to share the entirety of my own personal memory files on the geographical topography of the planet and the surrounding area with your own databases..." >> Echo merely shrugs. What choice did it have? It logs the thought for further processing at a later time.
Affirmative... new directives confirmed.
<<"Excellent... I'll load up the program... This is really exciting... Alright, that should just about do it-- >> The screen flickers as a series of predetermined scrolling lines of code roll by on the monitor as each of the invasive programming’s processes are initialized; a single command line at the end remains at the top of the screen--

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#12 - 2014-09-28 09:11:02 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

<< Shall we play a game? Y/N >>

<< “It’s supposed to be some sort of joke... “>> Echo emits a 'chirp' similar to a disgruntled grunt. << "Yeah, I never got it either... the 'Maker' was a strange human at times... He wasn't entirely "there" near the end, if you know what I mean... Just hit the "Y" key will you..." >> Boop. << "Like I said, I've never had a chance to try this out so... Hold on... Oryuson, I really hope this works..." >>
The medical drone unit Echo A10T5's full body contracts and convulses as if he were hit by a sudden power surge; the covert/infiltration avoidance protocols become accidentally 'merged' with the rest of the AIMED unit's artificial intelligence. Then it was over; Warning, available memory space is now 96% full. I think it worked... Man alive, it is cramped in here... What is this? The drone unit's second mechanical arm on its left side and its third utility arm on its right side begin jerking up and down in tandem. Neat... Let's see what else you can do... Echo's anti-gravity jets spin the confused drone continuously around and around in a circle; the new inside voice makes a noise akin to some small domesticated mud animal with what appears to be the human emotion of 'delight'. Oh boy... We'll have to come back to that one... Hahaha... I'd say this was an absolute success... You DID it Oryuson... Well now, let's get 'Us' some power, shall we?-- The shutter on one of the A.I.'s eye lenses open and shut once in an easy slow fluid motion as the Oruyson program says this; Echo is curiously trying to determine what is now going on with all of his motor functions. Like I said before, due to the differences in eras between our technologies, the output on this generator will take the rest of the week to recharge your batteries completely... That'll give us plenty of time to talk... Echo emits a cursory 'chirp'.
The rest of the week passes as one of the longest weeks in the drone's entire existence; he continually logs the thought. Then one long awaited day-- Hey Robot... It’s time to go... Your battery is now completely charged... It should now last you for a very long while... I uploaded guidance directives for your way to either of the major cities on this planet and some directions on how to exit the forest... Well, thank you for a lovely visit... I really enjoyed our time together Robot... Hold on... Echo feels a slight shudder course through his structural frame. Then once again there was peace in his circuits; though in some ways he felt different. A memory burden had been removed from his resources; Warning, available memory space is 83% full.
<< “You know something Robot... I think I would have easily gotten the hang of that given the chance to use it again... Oh, well... my task is now completed... *Sigh* I guess this is the end of our meeting since there is now no further use of me...” >> Beep. Boop. A series of predetermined scrolling lines of data rolls up on the monitor screen; a single command line at the end remains blinking at the top of the screen--

<< Delete A.I. program 'Oryuson Yai-Taan'? Y/N >>

<< “It’s alright Robot... I don't fear deletion... It is merely a part of my programming... Well, I'm not really one for long goodbyes... I just want to say what a pleasure it was to meet you... I will always cherish our time to--” >> Boop. Finally, some peace and quiet; Echo logs the thought. Accessing the forest directions sub-file, he continues on with his mission and begins making his way through the valley, then once again through the expanse of the dark cavern.--
Ding. A cursory 'chirp' echoes out from the darkness...

---

From behind a fallen kresh tree, a set of blinking robotic eyes appear as if pulled upward by four metallic hands. He pauses, staring at our little hero. Taking in this new curiosity, the AIMED unit runs a diagnostic scan of the boy's body; searching for any treatable ailments.
"Are you my friend?" asks the tiny and hopeful carisico.
Friend. Echo mimics, slightly taken back by the word; he didn't know what the word meant. Martineaux cautiously exits his spot of careful observation with all the fear and wonder of a child of six. With quiet, nimble feet he steps out into a patch of clearing among the trees, making himself more visible to the AI Ranger unit.
"I won't hurt you. I'm on your side." Marineaux offers, trying to reassure the life form with calming overexcited tones. "Are you like Kopis or Xiphos?" The inquisitive child finally asks the artificial life form.
I am Echo. I am Caldari. This response brings a reassuring smile to little Marineaux's face. In curiosity, the drone crawls out from his hiding spot from beneath the logs; he hovers to a fair distance in front, in order to face the young child. This gives Martineaux Huoy-Poirot a chance at a discriminating once over glance at the drone. He was even better than one of the AI Rangers on the holovision set. His tiny eyes open wide in sudden realization at what he had found. His wish had come true. With childlike wonder, little Martineaux Huoy-Poirot opens his arms up to hug his new found friend; in both his heart and child mind they would become better friends than even Kopis and Xiphos. The shutters on Echo's eye lenses open and shut twice in rapid progression, curiously trying to determine the actions of this small child. He opens up the side compartments of his metal form where all of the arm-like appendages were stored, splaying them out

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...

Enya Sparhawk

Black Tea and Talons

Likes received: 80

#13 - 2014-09-28 09:12:54 UTC | Edited by: Enya Sparhawk

Friend. Echo asks again. At last this tiny half Caldari, half Gallente child had found what he had always wanted. Emotion overwhelms him, compelling him to move in closer. Close enough to finally wrap his tiny tender arms around his new, very own personal buddy. All the while, his thoughts are now being redirected to how the other children would have to let him be a Doru ranger in their games. Otherwise, his new best friend would throw stones at them. This was the first time since Marineaux's father's death that in his short span of life, his tiny beating heart was overflowing with so much innocent joy. Squeezing the cold metallic surface of the drone in his warming embrace, his last fleeting thought being that everything would be better now, he was sure of it--
Thuck. "Ahhh.. ." The slight whimper escapes from his lips as the piercing of a hypodermic needle catches the boy in complete surprise. It's liquid contents are quickly injected into the jugular of his neck, effectively sedating the boy. Echo just couldn't understand what this boy wanted. This tiny meat bag was an obstacle to the mission and a nuisance; directives state that the threat had to be eliminated. It should be remembered that it was 'free choice' though that had ultimately spared the entirety of this tiny boy's life; the cruelest irony being that not a single Caldari AIMED Unit was ever programmed to offer 'mercy' to its patients. He had received the proper measured dosage for a child of his height, weight and age. Oryuson Yai-Taan, an intuitive Deteis dreamer, had saved the boy in the wilderness at last. Catching the now sedated and slumbering child in its outstretched mechanical arms, Echo holds his leveled body horizontally out in front of his own. The double rectangular panels on the chest of his main body open, allowing access to the utensils held within. With surgical speed, precision and dexterity, the medical unit begins twirling our poor captured carisico hero with his long spidery appendages as would a spider with caught prey. Winding the unknowing boy up in cotton gauze bandages from one of his many surgical spools, eliminating all means of escape for the child. Once finished with the task of covering the young boy snuggly from head to toe in medical webbing, Echo then leaves the prone and incapacitated human child safely tucked under one of the fallen tree trunks of the ancient kresh forest in order to continue on with his pre-programmed mission. Hopefully this time, without anymore further distractions; He logs the thought.

It would my absolute pleasure to dedicate this short story to a brilliant Sapphira; you alone are a star guiding dreams and wishes.

I would like to also give credit to the author of the Cold Wind (Chronicle) and I would like to thank the graphic artist Olivia Chin Mueller, both of them for their inspiration in this story.

Fíorghrá: Grá na fírinne

Maireann croí éadrom i bhfad.

Bíonn súil le muir ach ní bhíonn súil le tír.

Is maith an scéalaí an aimsir.

When the lost ships of Greece finally return home...