The beginning of your new and next life.

"Miss Shanesseigh?" asked the hawk-faced secretary, poking his head around the door and peering over his spectacles at the trio of stone-faced uniformed women sitting in cushioned chairs in the waiting room. "They are ready for you. Best not keep them waiting."

The red-haired woman sitting next to Sabine nodded and stood up, then paused as Sabine reached out to touch her hand. "Good luck, Meg," she said, giving her hand a squeeze. "Knock 'em dead in there."

Meg Shanesseigh snorted. "Don't wish me too much luck. You might be needing it yourself. Besides, I might edge you right out of the program."

"Eh." Sabine shrugged. "I'm not worried about that. You take my luck. I won't need it." The two women exchanged self-assured smirks that convinced neither of them. Sabine saw Meg swallow hard, felt her return the squeeze, and then let go. Meg adjusted the lapels of her uniform jacket and the position of the beret under her arm, straightened her spine, and marched stiffly out of the room and out of sight, accompanied by the secretary.

Sabine was left alone with the one other remaining woman in the room. There had been twenty of them at the start of the day, but she was one of the last two. This was the curse of having a clan name starting with "T". She always came near the end of alphabetical lists, especially since well over half of the planet's population had no clan name and had to go by their patronymics - patronymics which nearly always began with "Mac-" or "Nic-".

The only other remaining person in the waiting room had her nose in a book and seemed totally at-ease. She was a dark-skinned woman about five seasons older than Sabine, whose dress uniform sported the midnight blue jacket and crimson kerchief of a major. Sabine felt under-dressed in her lieutenant's black and forest green, though she was pleased to note that the major only had a single golden starburst emblazoned on her lapel. One in-space combat, the same as Sabine herself.

There was a fourteen-hour analogue clock on the wall. Its ticking provided the only sound in the waiting room. After a few minutes, Sabine found her finger idly tapping against her leg in rhythm with the sound.

"Are you next, or am I?" Sabine asked at length. The major put a finger in her book to mark her place and looked up.

"Almost certainly you," the major said in a husky alto. Her accent was crisp and precise. She was from the city, not the outer provinces like Sabine or Meg. "My clan name is Walsh."

"Ooh..." Sabine winced in sympathy. "That's unfortunate. I'm a Tolmach, and I already was near the end of every list at the academy. What I wouldn't give to be a Byrne."

"Or an Aalanach," agreed major Walsh, and the two women shared a grin of understanding.

The secretary reappeared a few minutes later. "Miss Tolmach?" he asked.

"That's me." Sabine rose to her feet, placing much of her weight on her cane - an elegant piece made from polished dark wood and inscribed with the Tolmach clan sigil. She adjusted her jacket, did up her top button, and nodded to the other woman in the office. "Nice meeting you, major Walsh. I wish you luck." Then she clicked her booted heels together and followed the secretary out of the room at a brisk march, her can making a rhythmic "tap, tap, tap" on the tiles all the way down the hallway, fighting all the while against the butterflies kicking up a storm in her stomach.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:46, Thu 04 Feb 2021.

The secretary lead you to a door marked "Colonel Calum McGowan - Adjutant Ministry of Space Warfare" Looking at you over the wireframe of his glasses he opened the door revealing a spartan office, flanked to her right by a window looking out over the Capitol city complex below.

The Colonel sat behind a cluttered desk as Sabine entered the moderately sized room. To her left, an arrangement of filing cabinets, a book shelf and a wall of medals, awards and unit plaques. To the very far left, behind the desk there was a closed door.

"Miss Tolmach." He states neutrally. "Please, have a seat."

He was not alone in the room. Standing in the far right corner, looking out over the Capitol a tall shape in what could only be described as advanced battle armor, sans helmet. Sabine had only ever seen the like in video stills of Indaris troops. The foreigner does not seem to respond to your appearance, appearing to be lost in thought.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:18, Sun 23 Feb 2020.

"Thank you, sir. It's an honor to be here, sir," Sabine says. She assumes an expression of unconcerned discipline: eyes hooded, lips together, teeth apart, chin up.

She takes the offered seat across the desk from the Colonel and rests the cane against the arm of the chair. She is fighting not to fiddle with the hat under her arm, and becoming momentarily very aware of the position of her hands. They hover for a fraction of a second before one moves to the arm of the chair and the other to rest on her knee. She allows herself a single glance towards the armored foreigner, and then locks her eyes staunchly forward, waiting for further prompting. When in doubt, only speak when spoken to.
This message was last edited by the player at 04:08, Mon 30 Nov 2020.

"So. Miss Tolmach," He shuffles some papers in his hands briefly and then sets his eyes on yours making eye contact and holding it. "What exactly do you think you're doing here? You're a cripple. An invalid" He holds up a hand to pre-empt any objection. "You are. Despite your Intel and Social scores, which I won't deny impress, your spine and legs are... insufficient. You don't have the physical capability to meet the requirements and yet you've pushed on. You've taken medical exemptions, you've found sympathetic officers who are willing to push you on for your whole career and you've never taken 'no' for an answer up to this point. Yet, you are walking with a cane into my office and I know you can't hold yourself physically to any of the other women in this program."

The armored man in the corner shifts slightly, not turning to see you, but perhaps to listen to your reply.

"So why are you here? Why are you wasting my time?"
This message was last edited by the player at 10:18, Sun 23 Feb 2020.

Seasons of military service have left Sabine well inoculated to such comments, but the Colonel's cold delivery combined with his rank do cause a slight tightening in her jaw all the same. When she speaks, however, it is with practiced military poise - steady and direct. "Sir, with all due respect, I have not come here to waste your time or my own. Regardless of my physical condition, sir, I'm one of the best options this military has. I graduated second in my class from Colebeinn fleet academy - and I'm sure I needn't remind you, sir, that the calculation for the end-of-season grade at the academy includes an assessment of athletic abilities."

This is an understatement, and both she and the Colonel know it. The final exam for the physical portion of the Colebeinn training program is a rigorous obstacle course which the entire class attempts to complete at once. The path is narrow, the time limit is strict, and anybody who doesn't complete the course in time is highly unlikely to pass the program, let alone achieve a high rank on the grad list.

She pauses in thought for a moment, examining the Colonel, then says "Sir, if I may, do you know how I passed the physical portion of the program, sir? It is relevant to the subject at hand, sir."
This message was last edited by the player at 06:48, Thu 04 Feb 2021.

"Go ahead, Lieutenant." He clasps his hands together and watches you with an inscrutable expression, challenging you to tell your story. In the corner, the 'alien' or 'outsider' or whatever you want to call him, seems to pay no attention to you or the conversation happening inside the office. As if he were a ghost, not really there at all.

"Sir, I knew from day one that I wouldn't be able to complete the test in the traditional manner. I'd already had six seasons* to get used to having my bum leg and deficient muscles; the restrictions that came with it were nothing new to me. So, from the first weight room session onward, I was paying attention to different things than my classmates. I was watching my drill instructors, paying attention to their teaching methods, thinking about why they made the choices they did. At the same time, I looked for other people who were struggling with the physical aspects of the program. I found seven of them, mostly other women, all on the verge of dropping out of the program. I gave them the help and attention they needed to stay in it; late-night training sessions, setting up and running mock-ups of past training courses in the gym based on stories from past graduates, putting those self-taught drill sergeant skills to some use to give them the personal attention and advice they were needing but couldn't get in a class of six hundred." Her shoulders twitch in the tiniest of shrugs. "Not exactly SOP, I know, but the school staff knew what I was doing, and they never put a stop to it. Even quietly encouraged people to show up to our little impromptu training sessions. Sort of an unofficial extra gym period. Nobody else showed up quite as consistently as those first seven, though."

"I took on a lot of the others' responsibilities around campus to free up their time for additional training. I spent nights and lunches in the library researching, not just for my own tests, but also constructing study packets for all of them. It was brutal, but it paid off; by the end of the program, of the original eight members of our little team, there were still six of us enrolled, most of us flying high. And, in exchange for my efforts, when it was time for us all to run the obstacle course, those other five hung back with me and kept the way clear in front of me; formed a wall with their bodies. We were so coordinated by then that we didn't even have to look at each other to maintain formation, and the other students were so confused they stayed well clear; we barely met any resistance on most of the obstacles. They gave me a leg up when I needed one, and I called out plays as we approached each obstacle. We ran and jumped and crawled, practically in lock-step, all the way to the finish line, chanting a marching tune all the way." She smiles at the memory. "In case you're wondering what happened to the others of our little posse, sir, I believe that one of them - a Lieutenant Megan Shanesseigh - was in here just before me."

*Seventeen Earth years.
This message was last edited by the player at 06:45, Thu 04 Feb 2021.

The Colonel listens to your story with a blank expression on his face, you might even think it was disapproval but there was something else...

By the time you finish, he looks over his shoulder at the other figure in the room and you see a smirk on his lips.

"I told you, Emissary." His smirk became a full grin as he turned back to you. "She's one tough mother bitch."

For the first time, the alien moved and turned turned to face you. His suit was unlike anything you'd ever seen, barely only a passing resemblance to the combat armor worn by Hegemony Astral Troopers. This was far more sleek and to your eyes, it looked more advanced, if that was possible. All thoughts of this were instantly forgotten as you saw his face. He looked human, tanned skin, a nose, mouth, hair, two eyes... but his eyes glowed with a bluish light, he had no pupils or irises that you could see, simply a glow like moonlight emanating from his ocular cavities. It was impossible to look right at them without feeling pain in your own eyes.

He then spoke, with his mouth to the Colonel and at the same time, impossibly, directly into your mind.

"I see what you mean, McGowan. You've not disappointed at all." His face appeared neutral. You felt his mind touching yours, something that only the monks on your world could do, or so you had believed until now. The rumors of Hegemony priests had proven true, although this man looked nothing like a Hrafnhelmr monk to you. Perhaps he was of the ruling class in the Hegemony? "Lieutenant NicDirhom. I've been wanting to meet you for months now. We have had our eye on you. My name is Aeson Indaris."
This message was last edited by the player at 07:49, Fri 28 Feb 2020.

Sabine tenses in surprise and automatically looks over her shoulder before she realizes where the second voice is coming from. She's encountered monks before - every task force she's ever been a part of had at least one of them on its staff, and there were a pair of them - bald, thin men in grey cloaks - who checked in at the academy every couple of months for inspections. However, all her contact with them had been distant and impersonal. Though she knows intellectually that many of them could speak directly into people's minds, she's never experienced it before.

"Sir, I'm glad to have lived up to your expectations, sir," she says, struggling to keep her voice steady.

Curious as to whether the link he has established flows both ways, she decides to try to speak back to the Emissary. She focuses on her internal monologue, trying to make it as loud and clear as she can, and says inside her mind It is an honor, Emissary Indaris. Thank you for your interest in me, and for your Hegemony's interest in my homeworld. Are you of the same House Indaris that gives the Hegemony its name?

She has been reviewing everything currently known about the Hegemony in preparation for this meeting, but still feels very much in the dark about more subjects than she would prefer. She watches him closely to see whether he reacts at all to her message.

The Colonel appears to be interested in something on his terminal, for the moment leaving you unattended, but the strange man with the glowing eyes has you in his full attention.

"You've learned a bit about us, not that I am surprised given your reputation. Yes. I am the third cousin of the Princeps Rex Vaynre Eculvari Indaris the Second, our ruler, our Prince of Worlds and Lord of Houses. Master of the Indari Hegemony." Aeson smiled enigmatically and Colonel McGowan began to speak.


"You may not be entirely clear on the purpose of the purpose of the Space Warfare Loan Program you have been selected for. The essence of it is that we supply native personnel... in short, you... to the Hegemony Diplomatic Corps. More important than that, the man standing there beside me is an Emissary. His purpose is to meet with other powers, other cultures, and negotiate an understanding, a peace between them and the Hegemony. That is why he is here. Hrafnhelmr is a prime candidate to not only join the Hegemony, but join the Hegemony Astral Forces Auxiliary and most importantly... form a new House recognized by the Star Court, which means a degree of sovereignty for our planet and the ability to enter into the politics and marketplace of the greater galaxy." He smiled strangely, no doubt enjoying the effect all this is having on you.

"Hel, I haven't even ever set foot on one of their ships and you're going to be living on one of them for the foreseeable future. In a lot of ways, I wish our places were reversed, Lieutenant."

"I hope you understand how important this is to our planet and the Papar Order. We are investing a lot of faith in you to represent our entire world out there in the Hegemony. Having said all that... do you have any questions?"
This message was last updated by the player at 08:21, Sat 29 Feb 2020.

Sabine stares in disbelief for a moment, then shakes herself out of it and says "S-sir, just to be clear, are you implying that I will be working alongside the Emissary? Aboard an Indari diplomatic vessel capable of interstellar travel?" She feels slightly breathless, and has to clasp her hands tightly on the arms of her chair to avoid wringing them in front of her like an overexcited schoolgirl.

"That will be up to the Emissary, but yes... at least for a while, you will be living on an Hegemony Starship as you are taken back for education by the Diplomatic Corps."

McGowan smiled widely, but you could tell he was envious of your position.

"Don't screw this up Lieutenant. This is your last chance to ask questions. If you accept, you're shipping out in the morning. That's less than 6 hours, so say what you're going to say." The Colonel watched you carefully as you had been given a chance to speak. Aeson seemed distant, as if focused on something else and not entirely there.
This message was last edited by the player at 10:09, Sun 01 Mar 2020.

"Of course I-! Ahem. Yes, I accept the offer. No further questions, sir, beyond the time and location where I am expected to show up in the morning," Sabine says, placing one hand on the head of her cane in anticipation of her dismissal. "I am sure I will find out any necessary information upon my departure or during the journey, as it becomes relevant. I stand ready to serve the Order, sir. And the Hegemony now, I suppose."

"The Emissary will take over from here, Lieutenant." The Colonel stands up and offers you his hand. "Good luck, NicDhirhom. I expect you'll be outranking me the next time we meet." The man had a wide smile on his face, in start contrast to his stern expression. Of course he knew everything about you. Everything but seeing what you were made of for himself and now he had seen that as well as well as the Visitor.
This message was last updated by the player at 08:52, Mon 02 Mar 2020.