Carnage, Aer-ki Jyr [beautiful books to read .TXT] 📗

nips at something I can’t put my finger on. I keep missing the obvious, and I don’t know how to open my eyes because I can’t find what’s shut down.”

“You said the last time you felt ‘normal’ was during the V’kit’no’sat war?”

“That last I can remember. Afterwards was kind of a blur.”

“Because the war ended or because Essence began?”

“Perhaps because nothing of merit occurred…at least not in comparison to what came before.”

“You conquered the impossible, now everything of less difficulty feels unimportant?”

“It feels important, but as a side mission. My primary quest is complete. The V’kit’no’sat were survived, defeated, and now absorbed. The threat is gone.”

“A threat that defined you?”

“We became who we are in spite of it. Without that spite…”

“You think you wouldn’t be yourself? That is utter stupidity.”

Paul frowned beneath his hood. “How is missing that ascension irrelevant?”

“Because it does not make you who you are, it allowed your true colors to show through. They were always there, perhaps dormant before, but it did not create you. If it did, there would have been a Star Force long before yours was formed. Have you ever found any pure lightside civilizations beyond your own?”

“No,” Paul said regretfully. “I’ve often wondered about that. You’d think there’d accidentally be one somewhere to find.”

“The lightside is the more difficult path. The darkside is the easier. You have made the lightside accessible to others in a way that did not exist before. How many races have you encountered that didn’t even know the lightside existed?”

“Too many.”

“Only the truly strong can hold to the lightside and defend against the darkside, for all darkside hates the lightside for what it is. So a lightside civilization will always face a galaxy of opposition, and they will not isolate themselves permanently.”

“They’ll stick their nose into other people’s business, expose their existence, and draw enemies to them they didn’t even know existed?”

“Perhaps. I think you underestimate how advanced Star Force is. You bring answers to problems others don’t even know exist.”

“Is that why you brought me here?”

“In part,” Cal-com said, referencing the slightly shorter race of natives they were pushing their way through politely as they had to fight against downstream traffic as they switched streets. “These people aren’t lightside, but they have allied themselves with it. They remain independent of Star Force, but they have learned from the wisdom and guidance you offered, unlike Ha’shavi. This world isn’t as advanced, but it’s advanced enough to provide the people with what they need. You will never have to invade here, for they’re not a threat to the Empire or to themselves. They’re good neighbors to have, and proof that not everyone in the galaxy is stupidly defiant. And if this world someday has a chance to repay Star Force for its assistance, they will in a heartbeat.”

“Are you sensing that in them?”

“Not in any particular individual. But you can see it in their culture. Gratitude is in their monuments, and in their emulation of Star Force ways…but without blatant copying. They wish to be different where there is no disadvantage. Does that bother you?”

“Why would it?”

“Because our way is better and they’re not fully using it.”

“Most of Star Force’s citizens don’t fully use it,” Paul pointed out as the traffic began to thin as they climbed a shallow hill on the sides of the vehicular road that held a number of hovering speeders moving so slow they were nearly stopped.

“What bothers you about this place? I can tell there is something.”

The Archon sighed. “I guess the more I advance the less impressed I am with people like these who have achieved a great deal, but they’re so far behind me I can barely talk to them without having to dumb down my thought process.”

“You have trouble with communication?”

“I phrased that wrong. I mean I wonder why I’m even bothering to try communicating to people who are so inferior. If there is a need, then that’s obvious. But I don’t feel the need. I feel…alien. Like I don’t belong here. And the more powerful I become the more that feeling grows.”

“And it’s grown a great deal since Essence use began?”

“You’ve traced my problem to that, haven’t you?”

“I suspect it’s linked.”

“Then why don’t you have a problem with it?”

“I’m not an Elder,” Cal-com reiterated.

“Please don’t start referring to me as that. I have very few peers as it is.”

“And you regret that?”

“The only way I could have more was if I slowed down my rate of advancement.”

“And you view doing such to be treason?”

“For Archons…it pretty much is.”

“But you wish you had peers?”

“I wish I had superiors to learn from instead of having to figure out everything on our own.”

“Have not the Neofan been this in some ways?”

“Superiors I can trust,” Paul amended.

“Have you ever had that?” Cal-com wondered.

“A long time ago during basic training. The Black Knight, especially.”

“I don’t recall him ever helping you directly?”

“True, he didn’t. But as an adversary he taught us more, in some ways.”

“And so did the V’kit’no’sat? And now they’re not around anymore? At least not in a superior fashion. You’ve caught up and exceeded them. You’ve never had a superior ally to teach you. You’ve learned everything from facing and overcoming your superior enemies.”

“And that ended with the V’kit’no’sat war,” Paul agreed, seeing the correlation.

“And after going through that, lesser paths of advancement…such as those utilized by this planet…are going backwards for you. So you don’t want to mingle with them as peers, for fear it will diminish your battle-honed edge?”

“It’s more like what’s the point? We’ve beaten this game long ago, why replay it now when there’s no challenge to it?”

“You’ve outgrown it.”

“Yes we have.”

“And this has left you