Wood creaked underfoot as Harrison entered the silent room. A single figure sat at the edge of the bed, the light from the doorway faintly illuminating the shadows around her…

Harrison cleared his throat.

Vodny froze, dropping her hands from where her horns were growing. Blood dripped down the side of her face as unfocused eyes struggled to meet his. There was an almost apathetic look to them, as if all emotion had been drained from her body, bags already forming underneath her lids.

The sight disturbed him, weighing down on his shoulders. Breathing felt… difficult in this room, around her. The guilt and pressure of knowing what he did held him down. He spoke slowly, cautiously. "…Afternoon, Vodny. Can I… speak with you?"

The slightest flicker of her tail indicated life. Her subtly Slavic-sounding voice had been reduced to a grumble. "Of course… Creator."

She stared into him longer, a glow lingering within her irises. He opened his mouth to speak, to find words to truly communicate with her, and yet all those simulated conversations he went through in his head fell apart at that moment. No form of 'how are you?' and 'what do you need?' felt right to him. He couldn't bring up her sister or anything else, and even basic updates about the settlement only avoided the issue altogether.

But she spoke first, clicking her talons together as if she were waiting for him. "I do not plan on being a parasite forever."

He flinched, astounded. Words slipped and sputtered out of him. "I would never consider you one. You shouldn't be expected to… Not after…" He swallowed, terrified of hurting her more. "I wanted to see if you were alright, is all."

Vodny glared into him, gradually shaking her head. "I have rotted here whilst my sisters slave away in my place. Some have come to see me. They speak with pity on their frills. I enjoy their presence… but once the door closes and the light is cut once more, I am only left with the reminder of how empty this room is. I am trapped with my thoughts. It seeps in how little my place is in this world, where love that felt like the greatest peak of the mountain could be shattered at a moment's notice.

"Your machines, the great otherworldly zones… those wretched monsters. I am insignificant in the face of them. It was as if I could enjoy the niche I carved in this world with my mates before, that with the importance I had in their lives, my own had purpose."

Every word she spoke stabbed another bolt of anxiety in him, ramping up the conversation far faster than he was prepared for. He passionately gripped the straps of his rig, an urgency in his voice. "But you are important. To your squad sisters. To Akula. To me. You've been here longer than most, and your skills in the water, your eager presence at celebrations, and late-night fire conversations have been carved into our foundations. You're the reason some Malkrin have anything at all to look forward to."

"I know…"

She sorrowfully laced her fingers together, staring into the ground.

"…But it feels hollow without her. It was always for us, not me. Why must it be me alone?"

The engineer slowly exhaled, trapped into indecision. Still, he weighed her words and emotions, trying to unravel the pain she felt. It was almost impossible to put himself in her shoes. The twins were close, and only God knew what it was like to lose one, much less their shared mate…

Vodny's upper claws clenched over her face, dragging her talons into her skin and horns, as her head shaking turned vicious.

"And she would have hated me for even thinking of giving up our wish!" the grieving Malkrin growled, continuing as her wringing hands squeezed one another in a fit of growing passion. "She wished to see me thrive just as much as I did her. Her dreams still give me hope to aspire to…"

Vodny looked up once more to stare deeply into him, the snarl on her muzzle dying away into a quivering frown. Her watery eyes reflected the doorway light. "She worshiped your vision, just as I do. You were our only escape from our sins. And, for how much she felt tethered to them, her heart still desired to be bathed in redemption through your house of miracles. It is obvious there is no greater purpose than to serve. If not for the betterment of my kind in the eyes of the gods, then for Morskoy, and the future she wanted."

Harrison stayed quiet, blinking away the accumulating tears within his eyes… The hope the Malkrin put into him almost hurt as much as it empowered his will to make them prosper. It meant the world to him.

A soft, shuddering breath left the fisherwoman. She shook her head, finding sincere vehemence in her voice through the leaking cries. "Creator… Chief… Harrison, I bid you to give me purpose. Drown my anguish in righteous labor. Allow me to serve and show me how to be whole again."

She held her palms up as if to offer them. "Give these hands the means to build your vision brick by brick. Allow me to strike down your foes. Bring me into your factories and strain my muscles until they are frayed like twine. Please, my heart dreams for two. It was by your hands that we were offered solace. So let it be by mine that we atone."

Harrison held his breath, unable to find the proper words. Pressure built over him, slowly drawing taut webs around his shoulders and tightening around his chest, and not just from his inability to respond, but from her expectations.

But that didn't matter. His settlement thrived under pressure. He was just the same. If she was going to reach out, he'd be an idiot not to give her a shoulder to stand on.

He reached out, allowing her to complete the other half of the bridge. Her talons were cool and smooth, all the way down to where they met her skin. He gently squeezed her fingers, offering a soft reprieve from the distress that permeated the two of them. It was platonic. Warm. Representative of a bond Malkrin shared that went beyond friendship.

It wasn't a regular kind of respect, dodging around the expectations and customs of humans. The way he had grown alongside the Malkrin formed a trust he had hardly ever shown anyone else. Their loyalties and adoration were real, unbound by any societal measure, and allowed to thrive upon camaraderie, so…

"Of course, Vodny," he assured, smiling up at the giant woman, praying to see a fraction of light stay in her eyes. "I need you, and to have you in my settlement means more than I could ever express. I always respected your and Morskoy's diligent work… It hurts, breaking into every part of me to see you without her, and…"

Harrison faltered and swallowed to reset himself. He tenderly moved his hand further up the massive woman's hand, clasping her palm. "…And if you dream for two, there is nothing more I could want than to see it through. You said you'd offer everything for my vision, so I'll offer everything I can to make sure you're the goddamn best at it. All I need to know is where you want to be."

Vodny held his shoulders and brought him close, leaning down and pressing her forehead against his. He felt cold, thick blood and a soft poke of horns beneath her skin, breaking his heart at the implication. But, through the pain of it all, she held onto gratitude. "Thank you…"

She pulled back, but didn't break the embrace. "If there is any place I wish to be, it is by your side, Creator… But I am weak. It is obvious. I understand Javelin's plight more than ever now that I have suffered the same."

…Javelin?

"My heart yearns to defend," Vodny continued with her limbs shaking, her long-suffering yet fanatical voice emphasizing it. "I can feel it in my blood. Failure and loss sear through every vein, and this need stokes the fires ever higher. My place belongs with my fellow fisherwomen and gathers, yes. But, within me, this shame, this humiliation and agony… I cannot fathom losing another. Not the villagers that took me in, my settlement comrades, nor you, above all."

He squeezed her palm once more, his mouth open to accept, but she had more to say. "I do not wish to only strike down the abhorrent and those nightmares…"

The grieving fisherwoman straightened her back, drawing in a breath that felt cold and bitter, yet… reflective. "…But those who stand opposed to our ways… the aspirations of my mates. Creator… I am not without sin. The blood of my own kind rests upon my talons. I have killed. Morskoy has killed. We were never strangers to what must be done to survive. And, the way I see it, those who stole my dreams from me in the Golden City also seek to steal the wishes of those I love, here, on the mainland.

"Perhaps my sins are unforgivable. But, I sense a righteous purpose for which we stand. The hopes and dreams of us all cannot be kept with simple naivety, but must be defended by strong walls and even stronger females. Now, with your guiding presence, after all I have suffered through to be here, I beg of you to tone these blood-stained skills I have. Forge me anew. Direct me as a knight would her sword."

Vodny's palms constricted around his muscles, the fire in her eyes blazing. "I cannot stand this pain of being weak, nor the failure of my mates' dreams. So stain me in the ichor of your enemies. Give me the burden of your war. Let us bring forth a new age of dreams and miracles… That… That is what I wish to be for you."

Harrison's chest heaved with breaths, the energy she had flushed straight into him.

…The Malkrin were loyal. They adored those they trusted and those who cared for them in turn. Harrison loved them for it. But, outside the tender embraces they offered, they bore fanatical talons to the greater world. Their blood boiled for what they attached themselves to, brought from a far deeper psychological need that he understood. Their fury and reverence tapped into the primal stems of his own heritage. To hate. To purge. To expand the heart of their devotion by any means necessary.

For all the terror and insecurity that washed through the settlement, there were culpable beings responsible. There were forces who loathed their very existence. They could not be talked down, whether it be through that same fanaticism or predatory nature. And, they all breathed. They all bled.

Vodny, for all the agony she boiled in, championed that same desire. He could see it in her eyes, just like Shar's, Cera's, Akula's… his too. Their lives had been rocked off course, shattered beyond recognition, forcing their hope into one opportunity for something better. And for all their differences, they were one and the same.

So, Harrison smirked back at the fisherwoman, the perfect purpose for her in mind as he growled his affirmation.

"I said I'd offer you everything to make sure you were the best."

Vodny's muzzle curled into a delighted grin, her pained apathy lifted to perfectly reflect him.

The Malkrin were loyal.

= = = = =

"Max," Harrison addressed flatly, waiting at the front of the exterminator's, once again, bodiless head. There were no more wires or sensors attached to it. Just the saucer-like hull on two desks pushed together, centered right between a rumbling refinery line in the workshop. All he wanted was a little conversation with the robot after an already long day.

There were no lights or any indication the machine turned on, just its tone-barren voice inside the engineer's head. ["Hello. I am now without a frame. I am incapable of purpose"]

Harrison sighed with a glare. "Yes, you are without a 'frame.' Do you know why?"

["We harmed an abhuman of the settlement. We did not mean to harm them in any way. It was out of necessity and precaution. There was a real threat of infestation."]

The exterminator actually did his job-name pretty well, but with how little care he offered the distraught Vodny—nearly shattering several ribs—there was a small problem… Wait, 'we'? The human squinted in confusion, his questions completely sidetracked. "What the hell do you mean by 'we'?"

["The central processor and I."]

"You're… separate from the CPU?"

["No. It is responsible for numerous tasks alongside my operation. We are two parts to one purpose."]

Harrison pinched the bridge of his nose, shaking his head. What was he even hearing? "Wait wait wait… Just… If you're not considered as the artificial intelligence of the CPU, then what component are you?"

["I am M.A.X. Number zero-one-eight-three. Generation seven exterminator. Type: sentinel."]

"No, I know that." He jabbed a finger at the exterminator's sensor suite. "What part are you? What is the piece of the 'exterminator' that holds the memory and decision-making of you, if you're not the CPU?"

Max didn't respond, a low hum emanating from it for several seconds. The machine's 'voice' was somewhat quieter, somber in a way. ["I am only a part of the central processing unit. I do not know how I am differentiated from the central processing unit."]

The engineer exhaled slowly, running a hand through his hair in thought. "…And the CPU makes decisions for your body? What decisions does it make? Does it speak? Is that what happened the other night?"

["Yes. My central processor assists me in system diagnostics, frame stability, limb-accuracy, target acquisition, sensor notifications, Bastion communication, and other 'menial' processes that allow me to conduct my purpose without interference. Speaking is possible for my central processor. The last operation was the result of 'hybrid input' with the central processor and I."]

"And hybrid input was because of a local infestation? The infestation."

["Correct. Action was required."]

…Harrison already knew what the infestation—what took down an entire colony—was. But having it confirmed didn't prevent a shiver running down his spine. He suddenly wished he had a chair to collapse into, but all he could do was grit his teeth and rub his eyes with the heels of his palms.

Jesus Christ.

His brain forcibly dragged up all the unpleasant times he interacted with the pulsing masses of flesh to mind, all the way back to the agricultural center. Tendrils, gaping holes, and sopping, viscous liquid sounded like another monster on this nightmare of a planet, but mimicry, gaining memories, and whatever 'abyssal bells' meant was something else altogether.

It proved he was unprepared. He couldn't lose another.

If you stumble upon this narrative on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen from Royal Road. Please report it.

Harrison glared at the motionless machine, speaking tersely. "So, you know how to kill those things?"

["Yes."]

"And they're just… out there? Doing what? Waiting to come into our settlement and infect us one by one? What else do you know about the flesh?"

Max didn't respond immediately, and when it did, the machine's cadence had slowed into something foreboding. It delivered a malice completely changed from its usual flat tone, almost as if it were someone else speaking entirely. ["The parasite will grow and fester if left unattended. It will root itself into the ground and sprout its flowers into the heavens. It will continue to deceive and trick until it has consumed as much as it needs to perpetuate. Nightmares will be born from fetid wombs. They will be distorted. Unnatural. One might even think they recognize what they see, only to find it is wholly departed from the naive first glance. As if the abomination finds joy in the terror it sows."]

Harrison felt the exterminator was deeply staring at him, the robotic voice grave and unsettling. ["The infestation will only perpetuate. Perpetuation is all it knows. Flesh and bone are only a means to produce its twisted samsara. It will kill its own. It will feed on its own. It will be self-sustaining. The creature will be devoured by the creature created to devour the creature.]

["Only God knows what remains at the end of the ouroboros it covets. Every instance breeds its flowers to heaven, like fingers reaching up to touch the stars themselves… its greater body."]

The engineer swallowed uncertainly, forced to take in deep breaths. He was as terrified as he was lost. What in God's name did any of that mean? What the hell was he meant to do with that information? It festers? Like rot? So it was still out there, growing behind his back while he worried himself with blood-moons and religions?

The workshop didn't feel safe, a far departure from a secluded fortress. The idea of staring out into the forest in the dark of night, when the trees were blackened and obscure, and knowing there was a far greater evil thriving beneath… It made his knees weak. Bugs, Malkrin, and even anomalies were… tangible, but something so intelligent yet so perverse was…

"Fire," he breathed, nervously gripping his rig's straps. "Flesh burns easily. What else can kill it?"

["I do not know,"] Max responded in its regular blank intent, as if the machine hadn't said anything else in the last five minutes.

A flinch of anger sparked in Harrison's words. "What the fuck do you mean you don't know?"

["My central processor cannot find the files relating to the infestation's weaknesses. If it is what the settlement needs, I can recall strategies related to the zoning and clearing of infested areas that were brought up during hybrid input."]

…Might as well be informed of the next unsettling stressor on this planet. He would have to learn the mistakes of the colony in one way or another. He pulled his data pad out and opened up a new notes tab. "It is what the settlement needs. Tell me."

["Understood,"] the exterminator replied, a part of his voice leaning into lecture. ["The first goal of any operation is to outline the extent of the beacon. This requires an immediate one-kilometer quarantine around the nexus, and further blockades around any instances of infestation should receive a similar zone to prevent contact with any organic material. It is advised to burn these areas, infested or not. Other possible paths of subterranean infestations should also be blockaded, including caves, vents, Psynet routes, and piping. No egress should be allowed. No cost is too great for this goal."]

Harrison recorded the important parts, ignoring the goosebumps along his neck.

Max spoke again without input. ["Beacons will be found where biomass is accumulated, notably from sentient beings. The parasite will be constructed out of sight and in a dark area, usually a cave system outside a site's perimeter, to promote growth and ensure it is undetected in its weakened initial form. This is the ideal moment to strike before a nexus can be formed…"]

The engineer wrote down all he could of the exterminator's words as it continued divulging the base summaries of protocols. Simultaneously, the information was abundant, but not enough to gain a full picture. Harrison simply didn't have the background to know what 'beacons', 'nexuses', 'nodes', or 'flowers' were. He could infer their meaning, but not everything. The most frustrating part of it all was how Max didn't know them either, just the data he read from.

Still, notes of 'acceptable losses' and 'pure forms' built a picture of what he was dealing with. He didn't like it, though. He didn't like anything he heard, but it was something. Any fear he held onto had to be pushed down… Those 'beacons' were out there whether he liked it or not. They grew and extended their tendrils across the planet every second he breathed.

Harrison put his data pad away and sighed. He also had the exterminator, above all else. The machine had the knowledge and skills, waiting to be dragged up when the time came.

The engineer shoved a hand into a pocket, his voice flat. "Max, what is your purpose?"

["To support this settlement and ensure it succeeds in the colony's place."]

"Good." He nodded over toward the corner where his lovable technician worked. "Tracy's willing to put the myomer into your new body. So am I, as long as you add one thing to your purpose."

["Of course. I am willing."]

Harrison stepped closer, pointing a finger at the largest sensor. "You cannot harm another member of my settlement unless you have full certainty that they are infected. You can tell us if you know something is up, but… Do. Not. Hurt. Them. And stop calling them 'abhumans'. They're Malkrin."

["Noted. I will not harm the Malkrin. How may I be of service to this settlement."]

He shrugged. "Sit tight until our mech-wizard figures out your body. I've got a feeling a hunter won't exactly fit the bill of needs… You'll most likely help to pick out the weaponry and accessories when the time comes, but getting used to a body that isn't yours is top priority. Then, you'll be stationed with me or the strike squad to defend the settlement or accompany excursions outside the walls."

["Understood. I will conduct my purpose with any provided vessel. This settlement will be protected."] The exterminator paused, a dull buzzing coming from within its hull. ["What is this settlement called?"]

"It's…" Harrison stopped himself, scratching the back of his head. "There's actually no name for it yet. Its just a settlement on the frontier."

["Noted. That is all."]

He hummed his acknowledgement. "Then I'll wake ya when we've got the body."

["Goodbye."]

The clanks, hisses, and whirs of the workshop filtered into his ears as the conversation receded. He stood there for a few seconds, trying to leak the cold stiffness out of his bones. There was a lot to unpack, but so little to conceivably prepare for as is. There were precautions and standard operating procedures put into place already, and he already had his hands full of other projects to start throwing metaphorical darts as to how he could deal with the 'parasites' out there right now.

He needed fire, and a lot of it at the very least. The only thing to do about that was to squeeze more biofuel out of the bugs. Simple enough for the future.

As for the current issues… Well, the lack of a proper name for the settlement got under his skin, but that could be dealt with later—over dinner with the squad leaders. He should also get back to Cera about her new position, or at least get back to setting up the oceanic ore refinery blueprints soon to be put up alongside the port… Maybe even the Flak-NET turrets and automated mortars for the next blood moon.

Well, he'd have to start somewhere.

- - - - -

Harrison managed to herd all the squads together into the mess hall. Sixty souls didn't just take up the available seating, no, sixty souls pushed the tables together even closer than before. Only a tiny excuse of an 'alleyway' sat between the massive backs of females and the absolute crocodile-swamp of tails underneath.

It wasn't overly hot, nor was it too loud for how packed it was. Sure, the wayward intent washed over his thoughts here and there, but that was the norm, despite the amount of Malkrin. Even if it was too loud, he wouldn't mind. Not only were the newcomers well-embedded within their squads, but the pillars of each industry were mingling freely.

Harvesters sat by the mech techs, the white-collar workers discussed scripts with the clergy, and the strike team openly included the gatherers—the fishers and farmers—in their conversations. He could've sworn he had to break up their fights just a few days ago… Then again, the settlement wasn't the same as it was. A lot had changed, and for the better, despite the gaping hole in its still-bleeding heart.

The Malkrin were as loyal as they were affectionate. A little while ago, he'd overheard two harvesters talking as he was discussing matters with Rook. The miners held each other's hands and wished one another good health for the dangers they saw each other through. It almost looked more than just something platonic with how they embraced and said they loved the other, but… evidently not.

Similar interactions led to the most absurd sight Harrison had ever seen: the one happening right now. All the squad leaders sat at his table, including Rook, Cera, Jav, Shar, Tracy, Akula, and the Priest, with the script-keeper not too far off. The engineer hadn't said anything beyond that he wanted them to discuss something tonight… and here Akula was, COMPLIMENTING SHAR.

Harrison's dorky drone-piloting girlfriend, who was sitting on a pillow to give her some much-needed height, looked up at him with wide, terror-struck eyes. Her quiet yet urgent voice exemplified it. "Dude, we gotta turn back. The timeline's fucked, man. This can't be happening."

He gazed over toward the dark green-skinned overseer and blanched. But it was happening, even if it felt somewhat… fake.

"…And I hope to see your leadership skills grow in turn. I know they will be vital for the Rising Tides before us," Akula concluded cordially, nodding with a smile toward Shar, who sat comfortably close to the engineer.

"Yes… You are also a notable leader," the paladin responded cautiously, hands still hovering over her food like a vulture. "I overheard your speech to the gatherers before the last blood-moon."

Harrison squeezed the maroon-colored tail over his lap, taking in the overseer's expression and wondering how fake it was… if at all. What did she want out of it? He still hadn't gotten a chance to talk to her about whatever was on her mind and what the deal with the purple fisherwoman was.

Akula stabbed a piece of fish and cut a sliver off, her telepathic intent continuing, unfazed by the chewing. "I appreciate it… Forgive me for sidetracking the purpose of this meeting. Creator, what did you need?"

The leader blinked, unexpectedly pulled into the conversation he was happily observing as a third-party referee… In case there was any foul play, of course. He knew how Shar and Akula went at each other.

Harrison sat up properly, putting his utensils back onto the plate and resting his forearms on the table. He cleared his throat and looked around. "Right, this arrangement is a bit unusual, what with dragging you all into one place, especially during dinner. But I brought all of us here to discuss a few things. After all, a lot has changed in the last three days. We've taken on more, and… we've lost… We've lost those that were dear to us all.

"But, in honor of them, we will continue. I've allocated builder ants to construct a church for all of your uses—" he stared between the Monbishoppe, Shar, and Akula. "—as well as for the gravestones of the Morskoy, Medic, and the seamstress. I understand how important 'marks of remembrance' are. The construction team is mostly finished with the blueprints for the building and courtyard, and should be done by tomorrow evening. Naturally, our priest will be offering services on every ninth day starting tomorrow, so make sure your squads are aware of that."

The engineer gestured to Akula, lowering his voice. "I know you wanted to talk to me about something else before. I'd like to bring up the Cycle and the church in that conversation, if you don't mind."

"I do not mind," she responded, visibly content with his proposal.

Shar looked down at him with a raised brow, but didn't seem terribly confused. Her expression slowly warped into meekness as she stared at the table. "A place of worship is a most excellent idea… It is a shame I cannot practice the same."

Harrison softly rapped his fingers against the table, contemplating. "I don't think anyone said you couldn't. Didn't you speak to Father Mombishoppe about this?"

"Yes, but I meant that I… I do not know the practices of the Sky Goddess," she corrected in a whisper, worriedly staring back at him from the corner of her eye. "If you are offering me a place of worship within the church, respective of the Tridei, I fear it may go unused."

"I don't think you should worry about that, babes," Tracy chimed in from his other side, offering a soft, empathetic frown. "My old man always told me to keep a cross in the house, even if I didn't go to church. You… never know when you'll need that kind of support."

The technician's words left a somber hole in the conversation, long enough to seep in and remind him of her past. Shar bobbed her head. "I suppose you would be right."

Akula clicked her tongue twice, drawing the discussion to herself. "I believe it would do us no good to leave any of our adherents out for their faith, no matter how little. Proper inclusion of all three sovereign creators of Ershah in a palace of faith is only proper."

The overseer's eyes sharpened at the paladin, undoing the rapport she created with her compliment. "My people never hunted accused 'Bringers of Plague Winds' to extinction. Nor did they seek to wage a turf war because a certain group despised our lack of interest in following behind them in 'climbing the mountain.' In fact, our fealty to the Tridei has always been whole, unchained from arbitrary restrictions upon prayers… As it should be."

Shar snarled, baring her teeth. Every word of her intent came out slow and pointedly. "I did not say we should remove the section dedicated to my goddess. You call me brutish, yet you leap at the opportunity to insult me for the ways I have abandoned… Even after you suddenly decided to commend my leadership."

"That's actually an asshole move, 'Kula," Tracy sniped on the paladin's behalf, crossing her arms. Harison had to agree, and by the way Javelin and the script-keeper nodded, his lover's triangle weren't the only ones.

The overseer glared over at the technician, clearly prepared to snap before stifling herself with a deep inhale. "I never insulted our paladin once. I merely brought up the ways her 'Order' used to demean the importance of the Tridei. I believe it is imperative we uphold the teaching of all three founding texts, rather than succumb to the majority rule of the Mountain Lord."

…Founding texts? Majority rule?

He had no time to question what Akula said, as she spoke directly to him. "I implore you, keep our church varied. Otherwise, I would request you keep them separate and meld coral for an underwater counterpart. But that would be a waste of material and cohesion… Forgive me if I may appear uptight about such things. It will be important."

Harrison slowly nodded, holding onto that ' it will be important' for their discussion later. "Sounds like a plan. Just let me know what your portion will need."

The engineer quickly glanced around the table. The priest held his eyes on the overseer, seemingly studying her, while others silently looked to Harrison, wearing various expressions over the heated conversation.

"That's one thing I wanted to make you all aware of," Harrison cut through the silence of the immediate conversation, hardly denting the talking and eating going on elsewhere throughout the mess hall. He held his palms out in explanation. "As for the second item in the 'to-do' list, I've been recently reminded that we don't have a name for our settlement… or group, actually. As much as I'd like for you and your squads to consider this place an extension of your previous lives, that would be a lie and effectively spitting in your face."

Akula shrugged, but those from the Elder's village deflated somewhat. They weren't too happy to be reminded, even if it was the truth.

He rotated his jaw as he mused over his next words. "We've become our own faction at this point, I'll say that much. And, I think we can all easily agree on it."

The others nodded, even if Tracy scoffed at him, poking his side with an elbow.

He ignored it and continued. "A name and banner are important components of group cohesion, so I figured I'd ask for your input. I'd be happy to hear any ideas out, given mine aren't too unique."

Javelin shot her hand up, eagerly divulging her idea after he nodded at her. "Hoshi No Yōsai! You once called our defenses a star fortress, and we are led by you star-sents, so why not name it such!"

"I like the idea of 'star fortress,' actually, but that's more a name for the city, isn't it?" Tracy pieced in, laying her elbows on the table. "Plus, there's no way in hell we're keeping the Japanese name."

"If we must have a name for our group, I believe 'Star-Led Laborers' may suffice," Rook pitched, holding up a pitcher of hot water in toast.

The elder script-keeper waved her hand, a small frown on her muzzle. "But we are not led by one star. 'Constellation' may work as an interesting concept. We are all connected."

"Could even be 'New Constellation'. There was a city on Mars named that, actually," Harrison added.

"Are stars a necessity in our naming scheme?" Akula jabbed. "I understand the will and reason, I assure you. However, it appears quite gaudy to me. I would suggest 'sanctuary' as a more apt name for the settlement, and as for our name as a faction… I may be drawing a blank."

"Eh, sanctuary sounds too goody two-shoes," Tracy groaned before grinning. "We're stone-cold killers, bitch. We should be called the Knights of Sidonia."

Javelin perked up and smiled widely at the name, letting the technician continue with 'deal or no deal' eyes. "Sidonia means 'to bestow stars', even. Does 'Knights of the Star Givers' go hard or what?"

Harrison put his arm around the smaller girl and raised a brow. "Yeah, but are we really knights, though? What kind of honor code do we follow? Maybe we should have something to do with, oh, I don't know, producing a future for us and the Malkrin? Hell, we could go with 'freedom fighters', given how the banished are treated. "

Tracy huffed through her blush, cuddling in closer to him. "Yeah, well, what ideas do you have, dork? Besides 'freedom fighters'… Don't tell me you wanna call our group the 'Wolverines'."

"Maybe, but what about—"

A flutter of motion to his side caught his attention. Cera held out a page of her writing paper with a gentle smile on her face. Oliver, who sat on her lap, mirrored it, nodding for the engineer to take it.

Harrison gestured for Shar to take it, given the table's considerable width. She did as asked and offered him the note, to which he swapped the paper with his hand, warmly entwining his fingers between the paladin's talons.

His hand around Tracy unfolded the item, revealing both Malkrin script and English. There was a shield… 'defender', as in 'Shar', and then there was a representation of two frills… which meant 'intent', but there was a little shining light above them. 'People' like the 'krin' part of Malkrin. So 'Defender People'?

The English words below confirmed his little assessment, or part of it.

'Shar-krin. Defender of the People'

"Defender of the People?" Tracy asked, looking up at him with an interested smirk. "Sharks? Again? Really? Mmm… Not as cool as Knights of Sidonia, but I guess it fits your requirements. 'The Sharkrin Empire' might go hard one day. Oh, what about 'The Ershan Empire?'"

He shrugged, looking toward the others.

"'Sharkrin'?" Akula asked, tilting her head curiously. "That is… quite interesting. It is certainly representative."

"The fortress city of Sharkrin," Shar sounded out with her intent, squeezing his palm.

Harrison nodded happily. "I… actually quite like it. What do y'all think?"

It hardly took a second before his brain was battered with various acceptances.

"Well then, guess we'll be the Sharkrin, 'defenders of the people'… Rolls off the tongue, don't it?"

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