The Three Realms The Three Realms (Book 3: The First Strike)

3 Realms 3-6

The Caldoras explained what had happened to the citizens of the Kurontar Sea. Naturally, many mothers were saddened about their children deciding to revoke their citizenship, but, legally, there was nothing anyone could do. The revocation was legal, even if the means of leaving wasn’t. While the Rulers addressed the people, Samuje swam to the communications console and called Sanfar again. “You again?!” snapped Sanfar. “Look, I already told you, you’re not having your Captaincy reinstated until your mental state…”

“Actually, I called you to request a Discharge Ceremony,” interrupted Samuje.

“…What for?” asked Sanfar.

“I’ve found a new purpose in my life,” explained Samuje, “that involves my people’s city guard instead of Realmfleet.”

“…And you’re sure about this?” pressed Sanfar.

“I’ve found one incident of corruption too many within my native waters,” affirmed Samuje. “I can’t gallivant around the Realms like that while there’s something I can do here.”

“…If that’s the case,” mused Sanfar, “I think you are owed an honorable discharge from Realmfleet. We thank you for your service.”

“I thank you for allowing me to serve,” returned Samuje.

“I think I can arrange for a Discharge Ceremony in two days,” Sanfar offered.

“Two days would be perfect,” answered Samuje.

“Then I will see you in two days,” declared Sanfar. The call ended and Samuje rolled her shoulders back, as if a weight were lifted from them.

The Caldoras saw the Endeavor crew off. The general mood towards Realmfleet hadn’t improved, but it didn’t get worse either. “Your Majesty, I must apologize for…” began Arsha.

“Save it,” interrupted Vorko. “No apologies are needed. Those deserters made their choice, you didn’t influence them in any capacity.”

“Still, I would have liked to have brought them back,” muttered Arsha.

“There’s no sense in beating yourself up over this,” advised Marianes. “You did what you could. …Arsha, I want to apologize for what I said after the fight with Oyed. I was considering joining with the anti-Realmfleet voices, but you successfully helped Samuje find another job that she seems happier with.”

“I simply did what I could for her,” replied Arsha.

“I’ll do what I can to convince the naysayers,” continued Marianes, “that Realmfleet can still be trusted.”

“You’re not alone in that,” called Samuje. “I’ll help.”

“Someone’s going to say that we’re forcing you to say we can be trusted,” mused Arsha.

“I have a few responses for that,” assured Samuje. “Good luck, Captain Royana.”

“Thank you, Your Highness,” returned Arsha. She walked up the ramp as it shut itself behind her and made her way to the bridge. As she walked, a female Wood Elf in a purple trimmed duty uniform came up to her. “Lieutenant Anfeel, what can I do for you?” asked Arsha. The Elf caught her breath before speaking.

“Commander Shalvey just got word from Realmfleet,” explained Anfeel. “The Sacchrinda Kingdom is going through a gel-pox pandemic.”

“But…but they’re not…!” gulped Arsha as she recalled that the Sacchrinda Kingdom wasn’t the best equipped at handling pandemics.

“Captain, Realmfleet’s ordered us to get to the new Crossgene Hospital in Vorkath to bring medical personnel and supplies to help them NOW!” urged Anfeel. “Denstra’s ordered Nazay to leave the instant you’re onboard.” Arsha wasted no time in getting to a communications terminal.

“Bridge, this is the Captain,” she called. “I’m onboard. Get us there now!”

“Understood, Captain,” replied Denstra.

“You heard the Captain,” called Denstra to Nazay. “All available speed to the Sacchrinda Kingdom.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” replied Nazay as he laid in a course. The engines spun to life and the Endeavor rose from the base’s landing pad. It climbed higher and higher until it breached the surface and took to the air.

“It appears we’ve lost any allies,” sighed Dr. Borg once Femfaf gave her report.

“My apologies, Doctor,” bid Femfaf.

“You did what you could,” assured Dr. Borg. “Still, it would have been nice to have some anti-Realmfleet support on our side. Oh well, they still chose their side.” At that moment, Yulduk entered the office. “What can I do for you, Commander Yulduk?” asked Dr. Borg.

“Our operative is stuck in the Sacchrinda Kingdom,” reported Yulduk. “A gel-pox pandemic has struck, and the kingdom is in medical quarantine. No one, aside from medical personnel and their Realmfleet escorts, is allowed in or out of the kingdom.” Dr. Borg sighed in exasperation.

“Then he can’t leave so easily,” grumbled Dr. Borg, “and the samples will have long expired.” She got up from her desk to consider her next move. “Oyed won’t like this,” she muttered. At that moment, the comms terminal on her desk chimed. She pressed a button. “Yes?” she asked.

“Have you heard from Ms. Yamta?” asked Oyed’s voice.

“…No, Master, I can’t say as I have,” remarked Dr. Borg.

“She discovered the samples we need in her location,” explained Oyed.

“You’re joking!” gasped Dr. Borg as delight struck her.

“She has already showed me the samples as proof of her deed,” answered Oyed. “They’re in storage now.”

“Then our project can go on as scheduled!” cheered Dr. Borg. “I’ll get started on it right away!”

“Perhaps you should reward Ms. Yamta before you do,” suggested Oyed.

“I will, indeed!” promised Dr. Borg. “Borg out.” The call ended.

“Well, I think we’ve found our last candidate,” mused Femfaf.

“Indeed,” agreed Dr. Borg. “Bring Yamta here. I want to reward her personally.”

“At once,” replied Femfaf as she and Yulduk left the office.

“Thus,” mused Dr. Borg when she was alone, “the Imperial Council for the Realm Trinity Empire is complete.”

Arsha was on the bridge as the Endeavor made its way to the Realmgate. Endea was a little confused. “Captain, I don’t think I’ve heard of gel-pox. What kind of disease is it?”

“When someone has gel-pox,” explained Arsha, “the germ colonies congregate in green, gelatinous spots on the skin, just looking for a way inside to wreak havoc on the patient’s breathing. It’s transmitted via touch and sneezing. I certainly hope there’s a mask mandate in effect.”

“Approaching the Realmgate,” reported Nazay.

“Take us through,” directed Arsha.

“Marshii to Bridge,” called Marshii over the comms.

“Go ahead,” directed Arsha.

“I’ve just gotten word on all mandates the Maropwems have passed,” reported Marshii.

“Please tell me a mask mandate is one of them,” pleaded Arsha.

“Mask AND glove mandate,” answered Marshii. “I recommend that, once we bring the doctors to the kingdom, we cancel ground-leave. The only ones that should be on the ground are medical staff.”

“Isolate the ship until this pandemic’s showing signs of letting up?” quizzed Arsha.

“That’s the idea,” confirmed Marshii.

“Then ground-leave is cancelled until further notice,” declared Arsha. The call then ended.

“Captain, if this is a pandemic,” advised Denstra, “we can’t risk landing on the base.”

“You’re right,” muttered Arsha. “We need to stay a por away from the kingdom.”

“Knowing the Maropwems,” mused Shalvey, “they’ll have accounted for that.”

“…You’re right,” breathed Arsha as she forced herself to calm down. “Sorry, I’m just a little paranoid about pandemics. I was only a little girl when Largandra suffered a petrifire-virus pandemic.”

“How long did it last, if you don’t mind me asking?” asked Malak.

“15 years,” replied Arsha. “The death toll was staggering.”

“Sorry you went through that,” gulped Malak.

“It took a while to recover, I want the Sacchrinda Kingdom to recover in a shorter time.”

“Captain, I just got a report from the Maropwems!” called Shalvey. “Your parents were visiting Midiriki! They’re stuck in her house!”

“Are they sick?!” yelped Arsha.

“The report didn’t say,” replied Shalvey. “You better try and talk to them!”

“I’ll be in my ready room!” declared Arsha. “Denstra, you have the conn!” Arsha got up and Denstra moved herself to the Captain’s Chair. Arsha then called up her aunt’s home. “Hello, Aunt Midiriki!” she yelped.

“Arsha?” asked Midiriki. “Did you hear the news?”

“The Endeavor’s coming with doctors and medical supplies from Vorkath,” replied Arsha. “Where’s Mom and Dad?!”

“Right here!” called Elgrad’s voice. He and Hanako appeared on the screen. “We ain’t going outside until this is all over,” declared Elgrad.

“Have you two been tested?” asked Arsha.

“We’ve all been tested,” assured Hanako, “even little Tellimii. None of us have gel-pox. Tellimii’s taking online classes right now.” Arsha released a breath.

“Thank the Ones,” she sighed. “I’ll visit you guys when it’s safe enough to do so. I need to remain on the Endeavor. I’m only allowing medical staff and supplies to leave the ship.”

“Call us whenever you can,” urged Hanako.

“And please, stay safe,” pleaded Elgrad.

“I will, on both counts,” promised Arsha. “We’ll end this quicker than Largandra’s pandemic.”

“I hope so,” muttered Elgrad. “We still haven’t fully recovered from losing that many people.” The call ended and Arsha was left with her thoughts. Her thinking was interrupted by a call.

“Go ahead,” she directed.

“We’re approaching Vorkath,” reported Shalvey.

“On my way,” declared Arsha. She then left her ready room.

Transformers: Mobian Chronicles Transformers: Mobian Chronicles (Arc 11: Seconds of Speed)

TMC 11-3

Optimus yawned as he headed to the mess hall the next morning. He wasn’t in the best of tempers. He entered the mess hall and saw Blackarachnia, Ratchet, Jazz, Sonic, and Tails already there. “Morning,” mumbled Optimus.

“Well, Autobots, I’d say we are all honored,” snarked Blackarachnia. “His Majesty has decided to grace us with his presence.”

“Spare me, Lieutenant!” snapped Optimus as he grabbed his morning Energon ration. “It’s turning into one of THOSE days.”

“Let me guess, the Council,” mused Ratchet.

“Hot Rod,” guessed Tails.

“His mage-phobic friends,” called Jazz.

“A combination of the three,” revealed Optimus. Ratchet handed him a pair of processor-ache pills. “Thank you,” bid Optimus. “Hopefully, we can slow Hot Rod down. Kup said he was coming soon.”

“Kup?” asked Ratchet. He then grinned. “Man, I remember that old-timer. He’s actually a Velocitronian that’s not so reckless.”

“From what Rodimus told me,” replied Optimus, “he’s the one that raised Hot Rod.”

“Good morning!” called Hot Rod’s voice.

“Look out,” mumbled Blackarachnia under her breath. Whether or not Hot Rod heard that was left for debate as he headed straight for the Ration dispenser. He took a sip of Energon and smacked his lips.

“Well now,” he mused, “never thought I’d taste ration Energon before, but, then again, I guess you learn to ignore it while in the trenches, huh?”

“Something a wuss like you never experienced during the last thousand years of the first war,” muttered Ratchet.

“…Excuse me?” asked Hot Rod as he fixed Ratchet with a glare.

“You Velocitronians have a history of draft deferrals,” remarked Ratchet. “So, don’t talk about the trenches like you were there. I doubt you were.”

“…Look up Nyon and Ki-Aleta,” hissed Hot Rod. The announcement of a Space Bridge then interrupted the tense moment.

“I’ll get that,” offered Blackarachnia.

“Nah, they’ll want a fresh-faced bot!” replied Hot Rod. “I’LL get that.” He sped off to the command center, leaving the Autobots, Sonic, and Tails to stare at the door.

“…Fresh-faced?!” growled Blackarachnia. She then turned to Optimus. “I know this is vain of me, but am I…?”

“No, sweet-spark, you’re not developing indents on your face,” assured Optimus. “That’s still centuries away for bots our age, anyways.”

“…You’re right, I’m being paranoid about my age too early,” remarked Blackarachnia as she leaned on Optimus. He just patted her shoulder, causing her to hum happily.

Hot Rod arrived at the command center and turned to Teletraan. “All right, let’s see the new bot!” he declared. “Teletraan, if you please!”

“You know, now that I think about it,” mused Teletraan, “I’m gonna enjoy your reaction when you see the bot.”

“…Why?” asked Hot Rod.

“Opening Space Bridge,” reported Teletraan. The portal opened and Hot Rod decided to drop the subject. No sense in dwelling on the unimportant stuff, in his mind. In hindsight, he really SHOULD have dwelt on it. A figure stepped through, then it became crisper as it got nearer.

“…Oh no,” groaned Hot Rod as he recognized the figure. An old Transformer came out with a metal cigar in his mouth. His helmet had a small hexagon on it and his face was covered in dents, like Ironhide’s. He was colored teal and he had a wheel on each shoulder.

“Well, well, well,” rasped the old mech. “If it ain’t the young punk!”

“Kup!” moaned Hot Rod. “Just when I thought I would avoid one of THOSE days!”

Kup made his acquaintance with the Autobots and their Mobian Allies in the conference room an hour later, sans Hot Rod and his Alien Hunt! colleagues. “So, that’s the sitrep, huh?” mused Kup as he heard the story. “I can’t say it ever made much sense, the whole time-travel thing.”

“I seem to recall a story where you and Ironhide,” remarked Optimus, “had a time-travel fubar and got your afts handed to you by Vector Prime.”

“I didn’t tell you that, I’m sure,” muttered Kup.

“I told him,” answered Ironhide.

“So, imagine my surprise,” continued Optimus, “when Vector Prime allowed this.”

“Future must be really bad if he’s allowing time travel, despite his views on the subject,” mused Kup.

“It is,” replied Rodimus. It was then Kup got a closer look at Rodimus.

“…That’s a lot of scars for only 50 years,” he rumbled. “I ain’t talking about the physical ones. I can see the mental ones in your optics.”

“…You fell right before my optics,” answered Rodimus. “As did many of my friends and family. I never took the chance to tell you how much I appreciated you raising me. …I was such a jack-hole.”

“If your Kup was anything like me,” replied Kup, “then I’m sure he would tell you this: I’ve always known you had potential, Lad.”

“…Thanks,” mumbled Rodimus.

“Speaking of other selves,” remarked Kup, “where’s your younger self?”

“And his Alien Hunt! friends!” snapped Optimus. “I DID say that ALL Autobots were to assemble here, didn’t I?!”

Hot Rod, Meteorfire, and Cosmos were lurking outside the conference room, listening in on what was said. “Let’s not go into a tizzy,” called Blackarachnia’s voice. “I’m sure they’ll be here soon.”

“Oh no, they won’t!” Hot Rod muttered under his breath.

“I thought you said Kup never cared about your goals,” mused Cosmos.

“Potential for what?” mused Meteorfire. “Being an Autobot toady? Or being an Autobot hero?”

“He’s trying to make me a toady,” hissed Hot Rod. “I’m gonna be a hero!”

“Well, in any event, it’s great to have you here,” praised Optimus. “We need new bots, something awful.”

“Anything to help out,” replied Kup as he took out his cigar, pulled a dull crystal out of it, threw it into waste disposal, then put in a bright yellow crystal before he started smoking it again.

“When did you get the Cy-gar?” asked Ironhide.

“Oddly enough, it’s a prescription Cy-gar,” explained Kup. “Keeps me from having flashbacks of my time on Tsiehshi. You know, the planet with Ore-8?”

“I DO know,” muttered Ironhide grimly as sympathy flashed across his face.

“I’ll…er…ask about that later,” muttered Optimus.

“Smart kid, he is,” Kup remarked to Ironhide. “Now then, I need quarters.”

“There’s a good-sized room next to mine and Chromia’s,” offered Ironhide.

“Wreckers forever!” declared Kup. “I’ll take it!”

“Let me show you to them, then!” cheered Ironhide.

Hot Rod pushed Meteorfire and Cosmos against the wall as Ironhide and Kup left the conference room. “You know,” muttered Kup, “I haven’t seen the young punk since he greeted me in the command center. I’ve got this feeling he’s been avoiding me.”

“You’re slagging right, I am!” Hot Rod hissed under his breath.

“Ah, we’ll catch him sooner or later,” Ironhide assured Kup. “In the meantime, after I show you your quarters, I intend to beat you again at Lob.”

“Excuse me, you mean you’re going to lose to me at Lob!” challenged Kup.

“Sounds like age rusted your memory circuits!” answered Ironhide.

“Oh, it is ON!” declared Kup. As the two old mechs walked down the hall, Hot Rod heard Jazz talking.

“Rodimus, I don’t know how you could have treated a nice mech like Kup so badly,” he remarked.

“It’s been a regret of mine since his death in my timeline,” replied Rodimus. Hot Rod and his friends then strode into the conference room as he cleared his throat.

“Well,” snarked Optimus, “look who decides to stroll in! We were just talking about you. I’m sure you’ll be pleased to know that Kup is going to be staying with us for the foreseeable future.”

“He’s doing no such thing!” snarled Hot Rod. “I want that useless rust-bucket off of this planet!” The Autobots gasped.

“Hot Rod!” admonished Rodimus. “How can you talk like that about the bot who practically raised us?!”

“You seem to have forgotten how much he held us back!” countered Hot Rod. “Kup is nothing more than a relic that needs to retire now! The guy can’t even keep my racing victories straight!”

“It sounds like his priorities are elsewhere,” remarked Blackarachnia. “You know, somewhere more important than racing.”

“What’s more important than racing?!” argued Hot Rod.

“Stopping the Decepticon menace and changing the future leap readily to mind,” answered Optimus.

“I’d say you need some debugging!” countered Hot Rod.

“Hot Rod, it sounds like you’re just jealous,” mused Jazz. “Why, having Kup here is like a breath of fresh air.”

“I have to agree with Hot Rod,” remarked Meteorfire. “There’s just something that rubs my actuators the wrong way about Kup!”

“Meteorfire’s right!” insisted Hot Rod. “Just why is he here?! I’ll tell you why! Optimus, he’s going to slow your war effort down with his ridiculous yarns, leaving us wide open to Decepticon attack!”

“Why, shame on you, Hot Rod!” snapped Rodimus. “Just because of that, I’m going to have you read his service record just to prove how wrong you are about that theory and you ARE going to read it!”

“Meanwhile, Kup is here at my behest!” continued Optimus. “As the commander of this base and this time-zone’s Prime, I insist he stay!”

“…Fine!” growled Hot Rod. “Fine, you’re the boss, but you’ll regret it! I’ve always said he was too slow! When are you gonna believe me?! WHEN?!”

“Not in my lifetime, I can tell you that,” remarked Optimus. Hot Rod growled.

“Come on!” he said to his friends as he led them out of the conference room.

Random Transformer related

Soundwave Singing

Soundwave has had enough of the nonsense that Megatron and Starscream put him and the Decepticons though! So, armed with his cassettes and his voice, he’s taken over the Decepticons!

The Three Realms The Three Realms (Book 3: The First Strike)

3 Realms 3-5

The new Golems were beamed aboard and watched closely. It was a 10-golem platoon, counting Femfaf. Their behavior was…unsettling. They never seemed to tire, they spent their free time watching the other crew members, they didn’t eat, they didn’t understand the need of a night crew, and they weren’t forthcoming on all information. Shalvey, especially, had a rough time of it. She always hated looking over her shoulder and the Golem that was watching her gave her a constant uneasy feeling. Finally, she turned on the Golem and demanded answers. Thankfully, she was at her workstation off the bridge. “Am I REALLY that interesting?!” she demanded the Golem. “You’ve been staring at me for the past hour!”

“You are part of my team,” replied the Golem. “I have never worked with you before. I must learn your behaviors, anticipate your actions.”

“There must be something you would rather do!” hissed Shalvey. “Maybe you need some sleep?”

“Is that why you have a ‘night crew’?” asked the Golem. “Golems don’t require sleep.”

“Then how about something to eat?” suggested Shalvey.

“Normal food poisons a Golems,” replied the Golem, “blocks off the veins that connect to our internal mana reserves. Besides, I have already topped off on mana before coming aboard.”

“No food, no sleep,” muttered Shalvey, “what DO you do to relax?”

“Relaxation makes us lazy and indolent,” answered the Golem.

“You guys are no fun at all,” sighed Shalvey. “I’m surprised that Golems like Femfaf would want to reproduce with you.”

“We do not procreate the way you do,” corrected the Golem.

“Then how do you guys continue the species?” asked Shalvey. “Clone yourselves?”

“We are born,” explained the Golem, “when someone introduces a Scroll of Life into a mound of clay.”

“So, let me make sure I understand you right,” muttered Shalvey, “no food, no sleep, no carnal pleasures?”

“Correct,” answered the Golem. Shalvey gave him a pitying look.

“After 50,000 years of being deprived of all that, I’d be angry forever,” she sighed.

“My breed of Golem lives longer than the previous breeds, but not that long,” corrected the Golem.

“…How old DO you guys live up to?” asked Shalvey.

“Our scrolls dictate,” replied the Golem, “that we now can live as long as 25,000. Any further than that, we are considered Exalted Elders.”

“And how old are you?” asked Shalvey.

“I am half-a-year old,” answered the Golem. Shalvey’s eyes went wide. “Surprised I can talk as you do?”

“It takes the rest of us at least two and a half years to make any coherent sentences!” remarked Shalvey.

“We are mature adults,” replied the Golem, “in five days.”

“…I still do childish things,” muttered Shalvey, “and I’m 671.” The Golem looked startled.

“You look half that age,” he remarked.

“…Thanks, I guess,” grumbled Shalvey as she went back to work.

Arsha and Femfaf met in the conference room. Femfaf noticed the studious expression on Arsha’s face and watched her sit. “Captain, I trust this isn’t a breach of our agreement?” began the first female Golem.

“That depends,” remarked Arsha. “Tell me, do Golems give off a thaumic signature similar to their creators?”

“We do,” confirmed Femfaf.

“Can you mask it to be like someone else’s?” asked Arsha.

“No,” replied Femfaf.

“So, your own thaumic signature stems from your creator with no deviations?” continued Arsha.

“No deviations,” repeated Femfaf in confirmation. “Captain, where is this going?”

“Your thaumic signature is too similar to Dr. Borg’s!” hissed Arsha.

“…You know, you just disproved a theory Tormo had,” mused Femfaf.

“And his theory was?” invited Arsha.

“That Blenders don’t have as good of abilities as their parents,” answered Femfaf. “A member of our ruling council took offense to that and Dr. Borg decided to have me run an experiment.”

“Well, with that out of the way, let me ask you the real questions,” declared Arsha as she transferred her hairpiece to her waist, “what interest does Dr. Borg have with the Kurontar deserters?!”

“Oddly enough, nothing,” answered Femfaf.

“I find that hard to believe,” growled Arsha.

“Believe what you wish,” replied Femfaf, “but Dr. Borg simply wants to know how much of a threat these deserters are.”

“Seeing if she can convince Oyed to spare them?” interrogated Arsha.

“That’s the general idea,” answered Femfaf.

“Tell her she’s being seduced by lies!” hissed Arsha. “Oyed has no intention of keeping his promises in the long run!”

“You have no proof of that, Captain,” dismissed Femfaf.

“His goals are all the proof I need!” challenged Arsha.

“What if you’re wrong?” asked Femfaf.

“…It would be unfortunate for Oyed,” answered Arsha.

“Captain, I must ask you to reconsider going to war against Oyed,” urged Femfaf. “Do we really need to begin a new era with bloodshed?”

“Oyed intends to undo what his children made,” hissed Arsha. “I will give my life to save the Realms if I must.”

“Your father would feel like he failed,” remarked Femfaf. “Good parents are always afraid of burying their children. Do you really want your father to have to face that fear?”

“…A threat?” snarled Arsha.

“I’m just giving my two-tins on a possible future,” answered Femfaf. “Your father would…” she was interrupted by the Guard Captain entering the conference room.

“Er, am I…?” he ventured.

“You’re not interrupting anything related to the search at the moment,” interrupted Arsha.

“What a Golem scout just found, and Shalvey verified,” replied the Guard Captain, “will make you think about it.”

“Meaning, Sir?” asked Femfaf.

“Your scout found a pair of files that Shalvey determined to be one audio and one visual,” explained the Guard Captain.

“That trick again?” asked Arsha. “Why use the same one when it got them caught in the first place?”

“It’s the contents of the video you need to see,” answered the Guard Captain. “I have the data crystal it’s on. I think you should see this, as well as the Caldoras.” Arsha nodded, giving him permission to play it. He inserted the data crystal into the computer and the monitor played the video. Teylan was facing the camera with a stern look on her face.

“If you’re seeing this, then I must ask you to turn away,” she demanded. “If all goes well, Mr. Iggir is in prison and won’t pollute your kingdom. Yes, I do mean YOUR kingdom. We hereby revoke our citizenship. We are no longer part of the Kurontar Sea Merfolk Kingdom. We won’t fight in the Final War, no matter what you say. Realmfleet has become too aggressive with the Realm Trinity Empire and it won’t do us any good to appease either side. Dr. Borg wants to establish a small hold in the Realms. The smart thing would have been to cut a deal, make a few arrangements, give them a little something for their trouble. But, no, Realmfleet wanted to play it tough. So now, everyone is afraid of both sides, which means fewer people wanting to defend the Realms, which means less defense for either side, which means we no longer feel safe in our own homes! Well, we’re leaving such a vulnerable area. We’ve established a home of our own and hereby declare ourselves neutral. That is the safest option. Do not pursue us.” The video ended and Arsha shut her eyes.

“…Well, that’s…disappointing,” mused Femfaf. “While not nearly enough of a threat to us, I regret not having them on my side. Oh well, you win some, you lose some. We will take our leave.”

“…Have a safe journey,” bid Arsha, even though she silently wished for all manner of accidents to plague Femfaf on her way out. Femfaf bowed as she stood up and left the conference room.

The Golems left the Endeavor and Arsha reported what happened to King Vorko from her Ready Room. He sighed when he heard the news. “Captain, I think you’d better come back and explain the whole thing,” he requested.

“Very well,” replied Arsha. The call ended and Arsha returned to the bridge. “Set course for the Kurontar Sea Kingdom,” she ordered Nazay. “We’re ending the search.” The bridge crew’s mood wasn’t happy, but they kept it to themselves.

“Course laid in,” reported Nazay.

“Nice and easy,” directed Arsha. Nazay turned the ship around and returned to the kingdom.

Aldarval made her way to the throne room of the Caldoras’ castle. She was let in as Arsha explained what happened to the Caldoras. “Ah! Arsha!” greeted Aldarval. “Splendid! Come to see how ready the Kurontar Sea is?” Arsha winced.

“Admiral, you may want to sit down,” advised Queen Jurma. Aldarval arched an eyebrow before she sat down. She heard the whole story about the deserters and was shocked.

“I don’t…” she mumbled. “I mean, this is…this is unprecedented! Kurontar is one of the most stable of all kingdoms in the Mid-realm, second only to Borompek!”

“If word gets out about this,” remarked Arsha, “who knows what other people will do?”

“Unfortunately, that’s out of our hands now,” sighed Vorko.

“What do you mean?” asked Arsha.

“The deserters made a broadcast on IntraRealm,” answered Vorko. “They’ve announced their independence from us, calling themselves the Reenshar Kingdom.”

“Naming themselves after a famous activist,” sighed Aldarval. “My lords and ladies, I must say, this won’t look well in the eyes of Realmfleet.”

“We’re aware,” assured Vorko. “We’ll do what we can to keep our kingdom unified.”

“Please do,” urged Aldarval. “You produce the best fighters and we may need them.” Aldarval left without another word.

“Captain Royana, thank you for your assistance,” bid King Jentay.

“I just wish I could have helped in a better way,” sighed Arsha.

“Never mind the woulda-coulda-shouldas,” advised Jentay. “Just focus on the dids.” Arsha chuckled a little.

“You’re right,” she mused.

“We can handle things here,” assured Jurma. “You may leave tomorrow.”

“Thank you, your Majesties,” bid Arsha. “I’m sorry for what happened to this kingdom.”

“We appreciate that,” answered Jurma.

The Three Realms The Three Realms Cast


The first female Golem, Femfaf was created in the Realm Trinity Empire’s Over-realm Golem Production Camp. She has the honor of being the first of Golem 7.0. With a life-span of 25,000 years, and increased mana-efficiency, Femfaf’s breed of Golem flattens all others. While she’s only 38 months old, she still has as much knowledge and maturity as the average adult. She’s currently happy being single as she’s more focused on her position in Dr. Borg’s ruling council.