Category: The Three Realms (Book 1: Her Highness, the Captain)

The investigation was taking a while, so Arsha decided to surprise the Barmek family in the meantime. She and a crowd of people entered their temporary quarters. “What’s going on here?” asked Mrs. Barmek.

“We’re trying to see if anyone can find a use for all this equipment,” replied Arsha. “I heard about your restaurateur skills and figured you may need it.”

“My what?” quizzed Mrs. Barmek as she and her husband looked at the equipment. They were, indeed, restaurant tools. Stoves, tables, barstools, cookware, silverware, and storage containers for food, it was all there.

“Captain, where do you want me to put all this?” asked an exasperated Dalengor.

“We have three levels, Lieutenant,” answered Arsha. “Use them all.”

“Understood,” sighed Dalengor.

“Captain, you can’t do this!” protested Mr. Barmek.

“You’re right, I forgot to ask about the storage fee,” realized Arsha.

“What storage fee?” asked Bashoon.

“Oh, and all this equipment is free for you to use at your leisure,” answered Arsha.

“All of it?!” asked Mrs. Barmek.

“I get it!” realized Bashoon. Her parents turned to her. “It’s all restaurant equipment! They want a restaurant on this ship!”

“……About that storage fee,” answered Mrs. Barmek as the wheels turned. “It’s a minimum storage fee, practically nothing.”

“Send me the bill when you’ve finalized it,” replied Arsha.

“Well, don’t just stand there, everyone!” urged Mrs. Barmek. “Let’s make Barmek’s Bar and Grill look nice!” She helped direct where each piece of furniture went while Mr. Barmek helped install the stoves. Bashoon turned to Arsha.

“A plan to get back our assets?” she asked.

“And a plan to keep you from resigning your commission,” confirmed Arsha. “I need your help in investigating something. I heard from Rokalla that your skills in investigating are top notch.”

“Well, I don’t want to brag, but yes,” chuckled Bashoon.

“There’s a mystery surrounding the Vorkath Monastery,” briefed Arsha. “I need your help in finding out what’s going on.”

“What do I need to do?” asked Bashoon.

“There’s a rumor that something is rotten in the Monastery’s catacombs,” replied Arsha. “I need you to enter them and see if that rumor is true.”

“Isn’t that breaking and entering?” muttered Bashoon.

“Only without a warrant,” answered Arsha. “The mission doesn’t start until Rokalla gives us the warrant.”

“All right, when can I expect the warrant?” asked Bashoon. The comms rang.

“Shalvey to Arsha,” called Shalvey’s voice.

“Go ahead,” replied Arsha.

“Admirals Rokalla and Rooshee are waiting to talk to you and Bashoon in your Ready Room,” reported Shalvey.

“On our way,” confirmed Arsha. “Rooshee?”

“What’s she got to do with this?” asked Bashoon.

“We’re about to find out,” replied Arsha. They made their way to Arsha’s Ready Room and Arsha switched the call on. “What can I do for you?” asked Arsha.

“I just discovered an interesting report,” answered Rokalla. He then read the report aloud. “‘Judge Advocate General’s report, Date: Marma 25, 4,006,298,078, TAU (Third Age of Unity). Subject: Inquiry into mutiny aboard CRS-1309, Windscar. Based on testimony from Captain Calmii and other surviving officers, the Judge Advocate believes there is sufficient evidence to conclude that certain members of the crew did mutiny against the Captain just prior to the departure of the Windscar from the Vorkath Monastic Hospital.’”

“Admiral Rooshee, you served on that ship, correct?” asked Arsha.

“…Yes,” muttered Rooshee.

“Mutiny?” muttered Bashoon. “On a Realmfleet ship? 2,000 years ago? That’s just…shocking, it’s unthinkable!”

“And yet, you’ve never mentioned it,” said Arsha to Rooshee.

“No,” confirmed Rooshee.

“You know,” interjected Rokalla, “it wasn’t easy to get this report. I had to pull in quite a few favors at Realmfleet just to get a look at it. It seems that it was classified by Sector 4.”

“Sector 4?” quizzed Arsha. “The spooks above the Intelligence Committee?”

“The same,” confirmed Rokalla. “So, not only was the Windscar without a captain after it self-destructed, not only was there a mysterious explosion at the site of the Monastery’s old chapel, but it seems that there was a mutiny among the officers. Now, Rooshee, I’ve read the official report of the inquiry on that mutiny, but I think everyone here wants to know your version of what happened.”

“…I was at the old chapel,” recalled Rooshee. “We were helping the Monastery run some tests on new equipment. Something went wrong. There was an explosion near us, heavy casualties. In the midst of the crisis, the First Officer, the Chief Engineer, and most of the bridge crew with us mutinied against Captain Calmii.”

“Why?” asked Bashoon.

“They thought he was jeopardizing us,” reported Rooshee.

“And you?” asked Rokalla.

“I was only a year out of the academy,” testified Rooshee, “my head still ringing with words like ‘duty’ and ‘honor’. When they turned on him, I thought they were a bunch of self-serving, disloyal officers, so I grabbed a wand and I defended my Captain. Two or three others had joined us, but it was clear that the mutineers had most of the crew behind them. They were going to transmit sensitive information on an open channel, so we felt a need to destroy the ship. There was a running firefight all the way to the bridge. After we set the self-destruct for 30 seconds, we left immediately via beam-out. The mutineers tried to undo it, but it was too late. The Windscar was destroyed. We had to wait for a few months for rescue. Captain Calmii died of extreme gill-intake deficiency shortly after. There was no body of water suitable for an extended stay for him.” Rokalla pulled up the report again.

“‘The Judge Advocate also believes,” he read, “‘that the surviving officers are deliberately withholding vital information from this inquiry. Further investigation is recommended. The Intelligence Committee must be informed.’ Rooshee, I had just taken over as head of the Intelligence Committee in that timeframe and this whole thing was never brought to my attention! There WAS no further investigation! This report was classified and then it was quietly buried. Why?”

“Admiral Rokalla,” muttered Rooshee, “may I suggest you take this up with someone else?”

“You’re the only one alive who was there,” observed Bashoon.

“…May I suggest,” repeated Rooshee, “that you take this up with someone else?”

“We’re taking this up with you, Rooshee!” snapped Rokalla. “End of discussion on that! The Judge Advocate thought that you were participating in a conspiracy to cover up the truth! Now, what in the After-realm is going on here, Rooshee? Why did that mutiny happen? Why are you so determined not to say anything? Why did we find out from a diary that Balma’s father kept about this incident?”

“I’ve said all I can,” growled Rooshee. “I’m under direct orders from Admiral Saverk not to discuss this.”

“…All right,” declared Rokalla, “if you wish to play hardball, then we’ll play hardball. I have obtained a warrant from the Judicial Committee to investigate the monastery as that’s been believed to be the source of the mutiny. Arsha and Bashoon will be conducting the investigation and reporting directly to me.”

“You had no right to do that!” roared Rooshee. “Arsha, so help me, if you investigate this, you’ll be the first royal in millennia to lose her Captaincy!”

“She’s protected by that warrant from ANY retaliation, and you know it!” snarled Rokalla.

“Arsha, don’t you dare!” boomed Rooshee.

“I’m sorry,” affirmed Arsha, “but I have a duty to Realmfleet to find the truth of the matter. End transmission.” The call ended and Arsha turned to Bashoon. “Meet with Novice Norvorok. He can get you into the Monastery.”

“Aye, Captain,” confirmed Bashoon. She set off to carry out her orders.

“Arsha, be careful,” warned Rokalla. “Rooshee seems bent on trying to keep this quiet.”

“I’ll be as careful as I can, Sir,” promised Arsha.

“That’s all I ask,” replied Rokalla. “Admiral Rokalla out.” The call ended. Arsha sat down and considered her next move.

“I apologize for all this,” said Belnki to Arsha. They were in his office the next morning.

“Those protestors were riled about something in the Monastery,” mused Arsha. “It’s an annoyance, I will admit. However, from the protests I’ve witnessed during a few of Daddy’s public events, they usually start out of some legitimate concern. I think we need to investigate this.”

“Will Realmfleet allow it?” asked Belnki.

“Considering that a majority of its medical science comes from the Monastery,” replied Arsha, “I don’t think I need to try very hard to convince Realmfleet to allow us to investigate.”

“Very well,” sighed Belnki. “I’ll try to assure the protestors that I have seen no evidence of any wrongdoing in the monastery and that Realmfleet is doing what it can to investigate these matters.”

“And I’ll inform my crew and Realmfleet what’s going on,” supplied Arsha. “See you later, Uncle Belnki.” She left the office and was escorted to the Vorkath Palace Gates. She then headed over to the Endeavor to see Dalengor and Oak at the ramp. They had a look on their face. “Something I should know about?” asked Arsha.

“A Goblin family is requesting passage from us,” reported Oak.

“A DESTITUTE Goblin family,” helped Dalengor.

“Destitute?” asked Arsha. “What happened?”

“Apparently, the daughter’s decision to join Realmfleet,” recalled Dalengor, “wasn’t well received with the Goblin Imperium. They liquidated the family’s assets and made them social pariahs.”

“Where are they?” asked Arsha.

“Deck 27 Aft,” answered Oak.

“Empty Deck Spot 2,” recalled Arsha. “On my way.” The reason it was called Empty Deck Spot 2 was because it was one of three areas that never found a use. Right now, its only occupants were a Goblin family consisting of a mother, a father, and a daughter, all in rags. The daughter looked up.

“Cadet Bashoon Barmek reporting,” she introduced. “Such as it is.”

“A cadet?” quizzed Arsha. “I didn’t know you were that far into your training. Why aren’t you in your uniform?”

“The Imperium took that along with our clothes,” answered the mother.

“That’s Realmfleet property!” protested Arsha.

“And there’s another thing too,” continued the father. “The story of what happened with Borome’s infiltration of the Diamond Consortium, despite your best efforts, spread like wildfire. We know what happened.”

“…So you were stripped of your assets because you supported Garsheek’s cause?” asked Arsha.

“No, we were stripped of our assets because we dared say the Under-king acted correctly in revoking her Chancellorship,” corrected the mother.

“What?!” yelped Arsha. “But Borome…!”

“Has been hailed as a hero by half the Goblin population!” interrupted the father. “The half that’s in power. The other half have had enough, so we’ve fallen into infighting. Right now, no one’s gonna take us back. We had to flee the Under-realm!”

“So you need asylum,” guessed Arsha.

“And capital,” answered Bashoon. “But, I can’t support my family until I become a full Ensign.”

“How far do you have in your training?” asked Arsha.

“Too far, for my tastes,” sighed Bashoon. “I may need to resign my commission.”

“But you would be the first Goblin in Realmfleet!” cried Arsha.

“Family comes first,” muttered Bashoon.

“…I can, at least, give you passage to our next destination,” declared Arsha.

“Thank you,” mumbled the mother.

“No problem at all,” assured Arsha. “Excuse me for a minute. Oak, see to it that they have accommodations here.”

“Aye, Captain,” confirmed Oak. As she moved off, Arsha had a bit to think about. True, she had a nasty experience with Goblins during the Varsek murder incident, but she couldn’t turn a blind eye to suffering. These were individuals, not the entire Goblin race.

---

After his speech, Belnki returned to his office. He was making himself busy with his paperwork. There was a bit of a drought going on in one of the fields supplying his people’s food. He had read the necessary arrangements to get water to that field and approved it with his signature when his intercom buzzed. “Go ahead,” he answered.

“Your Majesty,” called his secretary, “your wife is here.”

“Balma! Send her in!” cheered Belnki, his mood changing. Balma came in. She had a slug’s foot for locomotion, a tiger’s tail, crab arms under her human arms, and a pair of wispy antennae on her head. Despite the slowness that a slug is associated with, she moved as fast as a human.

“Am I interrupting?” she asked.

“Not at all,” assured Belnki as he rose from his desk, arms out ready to embrace her. They soon hugged each other for a while, then Balma broke off the embrace.

“How’s work going?” she asked.

“Not so good, My Queen,” sighed Belnki. “The protestors are ramping up the pressure.”

“Oh dear,” muttered Balma. “Novice Norvorok’s not doing well either.”

“Poor child,” mumbled Belnki. “He’s always had an uneasy feeling about the Monastery.” He sat back down and fiddled with something on his desk.

“What are you doing?” asked Balma.

“Your father had a keypad installed on his desk for a four digit numeric lock,” explained Belnki. “I’ve been idly typing in random combinations, but only got a buzz so far.”

“Have you tried 1138?” chuckled Balma. Belnki chuckled as well.

“No, I didn’t think a reference like that would be the key,” he replied. “But, who knows? It might.” He typed 1138 into the keypad, then got a ding and a secret drawer opened.

“Okay, I was joking!” yelped Balma. They examined the contents of the drawer to reveal a diary. The entries detailed an investigation into the Monastery’s catacombs. He didn’t get far, according to the last entry, as a Realmfleet officer had a gag order placed on them. An entry’s word surprised them.

“Mutiny?!” gulped Belnki.

“In Realmfleet?!” quizzed Balma. “That’s unheard of!”

“What caused that mutiny?!” asked Belnki. “Arsha needs to be informed of this!”

---

Arsha was in her Ready Room when Belnki gave her the diary. As she reviewed the contents, she made a decision. “Get me Admiral Rokalla,” she told Shalvey. “I need to see what the Intelligence Committee had to say on this matter.” Rokalla was called and appeared on Arsha’s screen.

“Planning another battle?” he snarked.

“Trying to resolve a case, actually,” corrected Arsha. “Sir, what do you know about the Vorkath Monastery Incident 2,000 years ago?”

“…Incident?” Rokalla asked. “What do you mean?”

“My wife’s father,” explained Belnki, “the King before me, left a diary behind detailing an investigation of a mutiny. The Realmfleet Officer involved was ordered not to speak of this. Now, I want to know what your take on this.”

“A mutiny? 2,000 years ago? And a Realmfleet Officer was ordered to stay silent?” quizzed Rokalla. “Realmfleet hasn’t heard of any mutiny in 5,000 years, much 2,000.”

“This happened a few days after you took over as head of the Intelligence Committee,” answered Arsha.

“Let me see this diary!” ordered Rokalla. Arsha transmitted the contents to Rokalla and he started reading them. “This was never brought to the Committee’s notice!” yelped Rokalla. “I need to investigate this. I have a distinct feeling someone’s going to call in some favors.”

“There IS another matter, something that may be resolved easily,” interjected Arsha. “Cadet Bashoon Barmek and her family have been reduced to destitution and are requiring passage to another destination. Bashoon’s considering resigning her commission.”

“At so young an age?!” called Rokalla. “I can’t let that happen! I know her! She was an excellent student! Arsha, she’s good with noticing minute details. If she helps us out on this case, I can easily grant her the rank of Ensign. Your security team will benefit greatly with her there.”

“What about her parents?” asked Arsha.

“Is there an empty deck spot on your ship?” quizzed Rokalla.

“Yes, they’re occupying one right now,” confirmed Arsha.

“They’re excellent in the restaurant business,” supplied Rokalla. “Have them open one in that spot and your ship will benefit greatly from them. That will help them get their capital back and continue Bashoon’s training if this somehow DOESN’T give her the rank of Ensign.”

“Understood, sir,” answered Arsha. “Good luck on your end.”

“And you,” bid Rokalla. The call ended and Arsha started thinking.

“I need to return to the castle,” remarked Belnki. “I have a speech to draft on this matter. The people need to be informed.”

“You do that,” replied Arsha. “In the meantime, there IS the necessary equipment on board for a restaurant. Dad shut one down when he was in command, but the equipment was never moved off the ship. I think I can convince the Barmeks that they can charge me a storage fee on that and they may use it for their own purposes.”

Vorkath was the cleanest and most eco-friendly city in the Over-realm. Home to creatures known as Chimeras, an individual was a mix of many animals with human features. The Endeavor made its way to Vorkath without any further hinderance. Falnii rushed over to Arsha when she left the ship and practically tackled her in a hug. “Easy, Fluffy!” chuckled Arsha. “I’m happy to see you too.”

“I heard all about the pirates from Lardeth!” replied Falnii, not letting go. “Are you okay?! Are you hurt?! Do you need a…?!”

“Falnii, I already got a once-over from Marshii,” answered Arsha. “I can assure you, I’m fine.” Falnii then let go and released a sigh of relief.

“Thank goodness!” she said. “Life would have been empty without even one of my fiancés.”

“I understand,” assured Arsha.

“Oh, Belnki and Father Barath want to talk to you and Marshii!” relayed Falnii.

“The Abbot of the Vorkath Monastery himself?” quizzed Arsha. “We shall see him immediately. Where is he?”

“He’s at the Monastic Hospital right now,” replied Falnii. “I’ll take you two there.”

“Thank you, Fluffy,” bid Arsha. She then pulled out her communicator. “Marshii, I need you here. King Belnki and Abbot Barath want to talk to us at the Monastery. Falnii has offered us a ride there.”

“On my way,” called Marshii. “I need to see how the place is run anyways.” Marshii arrived and Falnii used her cloud powers to expand the cloud that made up her dress so Arsha and Marshii could sit on it. Once they were on, Falnii lifted herself into the air and started flying towards the large, ornate Vorkath Monastery. She landed at the steps and left her passengers off before shrinking her dress back to its normal size. A human, raven-haired male in brown robes with a red cross on the front, glasses, and a bowl haircut stepped was at the door with Belnki, the Chimera King. Belnki had a rattlesnake’s tail, lizard-like arms with claws on each finger, a unicorn’s horn protruding from his human head with cat ears as well as human ones, six small, black orbs under his two cat-like eyes, a pair of spider legs coming out of his back, a mermaid’s fin-belt, and a set of eight teal octopus legs with a mint-green underside. His fangs came out of his mouth from behind the upper lip and he had a stern look directed at Arsha.

“You’re late,” muttered Belnki.

“I got here when I could,” said Arsha. The two stared at each other for a while. Eventually, the façade started crumbling as they both started grinning, then laughing before rushing to meet in an embrace. “It’s wonderful to see you again, Uncle Belnki!” cheered Arsha.

“You didn’t think I’d miss a chance to see the Endeavor’s current Captain, did you?” asked Belnki.

“Welcome to the Vorkath Monastic Hospital,” greeted the human, the Abbot of the Monastery, Barath.

“The pleasure is mine, Father Barath,” returned Arsha. “What did you need Marshii and I for?”

“We may be witnessing the cure,” replied Father Barath, “to the Hardfin Virus.”

“Are you serious?” asked Marshii. “Realmfleet’s believed it to be cured 50 years from now.”

“Well, we hope to astound Realmfleet once again,” chuckled Father Barath. “The final test is in Ward 53, on the upper levels. Please follow me.” Father Barath then led the quartet into the Monastery and directed them to a set of elevators. “Just take these elevators straight to the ward,” he instructed as he entered one. “Ward 53, please.” The door closed as the elevator went upwards.

“Ladies first,” bid Belnki.

“Thank you,” replied Arsha.

“Just watch out for the disinfection procedure,” warned Marshii.

“Sorry, the what?” asked Arsha.

“The disinfection procedure,” repeated Marshii.

“How bad is it?!” yelped Arsha, a little worried. At that moment, a wicked grin crossed Marshii’s features.

“You know what, you’ll find out,” she chuckled.

“…Er, Ward 53…please,” gulped Arsha. Her elevator doors shut and it went up. A green light bathed the box’s interior.

“Occupant is a Kitsune/human Blender,” droned a feminine voice. “Occupant is wearing a ballroom dress and is wearing a ribbon and rose hairpiece with hair in a bun. Disinfection parameters set. Commencing disinfection procedure.” No sooner had the voice stopped speaking, a cold shower of non-toxic disinfection chemicals was sprayed on Arsha. She shrieked at the sudden surprise of cold liquid being dumped on her. She scrambled for a method to turn it off, but it was no use. More disinfection liquid then sprayed from under her dress. Soon, she had a white powder dumped on her before fans started blowing all around her. The fans stopped when the elevator did. She came out with her hair disheveled and her hair adornments hanging limply on the remains of her bun. Her dress was wrinkled as well. She saw a kiosk labeled “For clothing readjustments and cosmetic touch-ups.” She figured out the purpose really quickly and took advantage of it, smoothing out her dress and redoing her hair. She came out of the kiosk looking better than ever, but still feeling violated. Falnii’s elevator opened to reveal her in a cloud dress that wasn’t as fluffy and her hairpieces hanging limply from her hair. Arsha showed the readjustment kiosk and Falnii took advantage of it. She soon came out, then hugged Arsha, her dress cloud enveloping Arsha’s skirts. They hugged for a bit to try and calm each other down from the rather invasive disinfection procedure. The elevator then released Belnki as he noticed the two hugging it out.

“Oh dear,” sighed Belnki. He then hugged the two, wrapping an octopus leg around each girl to reassure them. After a while, when Marshii arrived, the girls relaxed and Arsha turned to Marshii.

“That was WAY too invasive!” she snapped. “Why didn’t you warn us?!”

“Technically, I did,” giggled Marshii.

“I apologize if the procedure caused you discomfort,” called Father Barath as he approached the group. “Come. The test is being conducted here.” He led the group to a room where a mermaid was moaning pitifully. The Hardfin Virus attacks a merperson’s fins, causing the cells in them to become rigid and thus, not give the merperson the necessary guidance for swimming. It is painful and essentially paralyzes the victim. The mermaid’s condition was bad. Pain flooded her tail from the fins up. A monk then loaded a syringe and stuck it into the mermaid’s tail. She was too busy concentrating on the pain in her tail, she didn’t notice the needle enter her. The onlookers waited for a minute. Eventually, the mermaid was tired of twitching in pain and let her body go limp. It was then that she noticed something. She looked down her tail and moved it. She then pointed the tip of her tail to her face as her fins bent in that same direction! She was no longer in pain and could move every bit of her tail, even her fins! She thank the monk profusely and was told to wait in a large water tank for a few days to exercise her fins until she could swim normally again. She was then placed in a water wheel-chair, similar to Shalvey’s, and taken to another room.

“Another victory for modern medicine,” cheered Marshii.

“The cure will be uploaded to our database,” answered Father Barath, “in an hour.”

“I know many a merperson,” sighed Marshii, “who would love to have the cure.”

“Your mother had the Hardfin virus, correct?” asked Father Barath.

“She did,” replied Marshii. “As does one of my grandsons.”

“Then we shall make sure his doctors get the cure,” assured Father Barath.

“Thank you,” bid Marshii. “It’s his birthday tomorrow. To be cured of it would be a fantastic present.”

“One of the reasons you joined the medical field, if I’m not mistaken,” recalled Arsha.

“That’s right,” confirmed Marshii.

“And yet, you’re still squeamish about using tech,” muttered Arsha.

“There ARE reasons for that!” snapped Marshii.

“It HAS helped people before,” replied Belnki.

“And there’s always the potential,” argued Marshii, “of it being misused!”

“Hence why the Monastery and its monks are so secretive,” remarked Father Barath. “We cannot let those that would cause harm to the Realms use our secrets to carry out their goals.”

“Well, just tell me what you can,” answered Marshii. As soon as she said it, a crowd’s collective voice could be heard. Belnki rolled his eyes.

“Protestors,” he muttered. “They think that there’s a dark secret here, in the catacombs below the monastery. Excuse me. I must address them.” He headed off to the elevator. “Ground floor, please,” he directed. The doors closed and he came down.

“Protestors?” asked Arsha. “At a hospital?”

“These particular Chimeras,” replied Father Barath, “are demanding we close down, that their science can get faster results with mindless clone bodies. We’ve tried that, but the results don’t come fast enough.”

“They can’t demand a hospital to close down!” protested Falnii. “What about the patients?!”

“That’s what Belnki asks the protestors on a frequent basis,” remarked Father Barath. “However, public opinion is mounting against him. I fear our means of support will evaporate without help.”

“You’re not alone in this,” assured Arsha. “We won’t allow support to be cut off from you guys.”

“With all due respect, your father already did that when he was in command of the Endeavor,” remarked Father Barath. Arsha realized what he was talking about. A previous adventure from her father had said that the Hospital must gather resources alone.

Galthar was a bustling place, in the center of the Eastern continent of the Mid-realm, north of Arsha’s home of Largandra. The Endeavor touched down at the Realmfleet base that resided there. Arsha, Marshii, and Thengo stepped down the landing ramp and were greeted by Commander Orbo, the one in charge of the base. The medical supplies were being loaded into the Endeavor’s cargo bay as Orbo spoke with Arsha. “I must admit,” the Commander said in his usual gruff grandpa tone, “I had no idea you would make a fine Captain.”

“You’re laying it on thick,” observed Arsha. “You don’t usually do that unless something’s on your mind.”

“…All right, it’s about the Vorkath Monastery,” admitted Orbo.

“What about it?” asked Arsha.

“The results they get are coming much too fast,” explained Orbo.

“They’re researching how to cure most, if not all, diseases,” countered Arsha. “I think we can safely say they’re doing what they do for the greater good.”

“I’ve always felt twitchy about that ‘greater good’ thing,” muttered Orbo. “Too many tyrants in the Mid-realm’s history alone used that phrase for their actions.”

“Don’t tell me you think the Monastery’s up to no good,” sighed Arsha.

“I’m just saying, they’re a little too private about their methods,” replied Orbo.

“They don’t want their secrets to leak to the Splitters,” debated Arsha, “I would think they should have all the privacy they need.”

“I have to side with Commander Orbo here,” called Thengo’s voice as she joined them. “There are significant gaps in their methods whenever the Realmfleet Science board gets a report. That screams ‘hiding something’ to me.”

“That IS unusual, I grant you,” conceded Arsha, “but medical research has been used against someone for ill.”

“Besides,” answered Marshii’s voice as she joined them, “they have the best technological means available to them. I think they know how to keep the Oath.”

“Did…Marshii just…?” asked Thengo.

“Support technological methods of healing?” finished Arsha. Marshii frowned at them.

“There ARE some illnesses that magic can’t fix,” she grumbled. “Now, if you lot are finished playing ‘Poke Holes in Marshii’s Logic’, the medical supplies are all loaded.”

“All right then,” replied Arsha, “we leave at once. Commander, we’ll look into the Monastery to see if there ARE nefarious plots going on.”

“That is all I ask,” finished Orbo. The Endeavor was soon cleared for departure and left the base, leaving some crew members concerned after the conversation with Orbo made the rounds.

“Captain,” remarked Shalvey, “I don’t think I can fully dismiss what Orbo said. The monks there are more guarded than any monk I’ve ever met.”

“Not you too!” protested Arsha.

“Commander,” called Dalengor, “I find it highly unlikely that the monks would do anything that would breach the Doctor’s Oath. Under that, experimentation on unwilling life-forms is forbidden.”

“Can we please keep this conversation to a minimum?” asked Arsha. “We have a job and speculating about it isn’t gonna get it done faster.”

“If I may be a little selfish,” muttered Nazay, “I’m getting a headache from this. I’d rather find the nearest Realmgate without any…” The ship rocked. “Now what?!” said Nazay.

“Report!” called Arsha.

“Pirate ship of the port aft!” reported Malak. “Raising shields now!”

“Another firefight?” moaned Arsha as she snapped her fingers and teleported her hairpiece from her hair to its resting place in Arsha’s ready room desk. “I’m starting to get sick of this!” she continued. “Ready weapons. Target their propulsion.”

“Weapons locked on target,” replied Malak.

“Fire at will,” ordered Arsha. Malak let fly with laser fire, but the shots were absorbed by the shields.

“No effect,” reported Malak.

“We’re being hailed!” called Shalvey.

“On screen,” directed Arsha. A male Kitsune in pirate’s gear came up. “This is Captain Arsha Royana of the Endeavor! Explain yourself!”

“I am Captain Harune,” introduced the Kitsune. “Heave to and prepare to be boarded or we’ll blow your ship out of there sky.”

“You have no jurisdiction here!” snapped Arsha. “We’re not stopping! Move along or we’ll tow your ship to the nearest Realmfleet base!”

“Your medical supplies are needed for my crew,” dismissed Harune. “I say again, heave to or you will be permanently grounded.”

“I’d love to stay and chat,” hissed Arsha, “but I’m on a tight schedule. Shalvey, cut transmission.” Shalvey obeyed. “Torpedoes,” Arsha ordered Malak.

“Releasing safety catches on torpedo tubes 1 and 2,” reported Malak. “Firing. …No effect.”

“That’s a Nomad class ship,” called Nazay, noting the pirate’s ship. “It shouldn’t have shields designed to stop our torpedoes.”

“Try again,” urged Arsha.

“Captain, another ship is entering visual range,” reported Malak.

“It’s hailing us,” relayed Shalvey.

“On screen,” relayed Arsha. A female Cecaelia appeared. She had purple hair and jewelry, wore a white top with purple dots, disconnected purple sleeves that flared out and went past the wrist, a purple choker around her neck, a purple skirt with a white petticoat, and an eyepatch over her right eye. One of her purple legs was on the steering wheel of her ship.

“Ahoy there!” called the Cecaelia. “Do you require help?”

“Partrica Looden,” said Arsha with a little distaste.

“CAPTAIN Partrica Looden,” corrected Partrica. “I’ve been hunting the bilge-rat, Harune, for quite a while. You must have some valuable cargo.”

“Valuable for the Vorkath Monastery,” replied Arsha. Partrica whistled.

“Aye, that’s enough to attract attention,” she conceded. “Me and my crew will hold him off. You get to the nearest Realmgate.”

“…All right,” sighed Arsha.

“Realmgate located, Ma’am,” reported Nazay.

“Get us there now,” ordered Arsha.

“Farewell, Captain!” cheered Partrica. The call ended and the Endeavor set off towards the Realmgate. The enemy pirates fired but were then distracted by Partrica’s ship.

“I know we owe her,” muttered Arsha, “but I find it a little too convenient that Partrica happened to be in the area.”

“She IS a Protector Pirate,” reminded Elmar. “Realmfleet owes a great deal to them.”

“Pirates are robbers, though!” grumbled Malak. “Protector Pirates steal the goods from the unsavory pirates and don’t even bother returning them! It feels like a racket!”

“Partrica’s crew, sir,” interjected Elmar, “is a trustworthy one. Besides, the goods the unsavory pirates obtain are just as unsavory.”

“Do you always feel the need to remind people of obvious stuff?” groaned Malak.

“Now, now,” called Arsha. “Let’s not go there. Malak, status of the enemy ship?”

“They are still occupied by Partrica’s ship,” reported Malak. “They cannot pursue us.”

“Realmgate just ahead,” remarked Nazay as the familiar stone ring opened a green vortex.

“Nice and easy,” directed Arsha as she summoned her hairpiece and put it back on. The Endeavor then passed through the gate and entered the permanently sunny skies of the Over-realm. The portal behind them was now grey and white. Oak, Shalvey, Laverda, Orthena, and Thengo sighed happily. Elmar contented himself with a small smile.

“If I may be egotistical for a minute,” chuckled Thengo, “nothing compares to our Realm.”

“I have to agree,” sighed Malak.

“Captain, we’re being hailed by a nearby ship,” replied Shalvey. “Cumulonimbus Class, registry CRS-3395.”

“Prince Lardeth’s ship,” mused Elmar.

“Put them through,” ordered Arsha. Lardeth’s face filled the screen.

“Welcome to the Over-Realm, Captain Arsha,” greeted Lardeth.

“Good to be here,” replied Arsha. “We just escaped from pirates who were after the medical supplies we have for the Vorkath Monastic Hospital.”

“Falnii told me you were making a delivery there,” answered Lardeth. “Sorry I can’t stay in the Over-realm. I need to settle a feud between Falgreth and Dwelga. After Lord and Lady Varsek’s murder, tensions became even more strained.”

“Ouch,” winced Arsha. “Well, good luck. Safe travels!”

“Thank you!” bid Lardeth as the call ended. The Endeavor then moved aside to let the High Sky through. The Realmgate’s portal color changed from grey and white to red to allow the ship to enter the Under-realm. When the High Sky went through, the Endeavor turned eastwards towards Vorkath, the city of Chimeras.

The rebuilding of Domoroto was going to take a long time. A few Realmfleet ships were going to stay behind and help, but the Endeavor could not. “Another mission?” Arsha asked Rooshee on her personal screen in her quarters. “Already?”

“It’s a delivery mission,” replied Rooshee. “The Vorkath Monastic Hospital needs medical supplies to help the patients.”

“Must be a busy time of year for them,” mused Arsha.

“The winter months are the hardest,” agreed Rooshee. “I don’t think I need to tell you how important it is that the hospital gets the supplies.”

“We’ll get them there,” promised Arsha. “I won’t let the best hospital in the Realms be without supplies.”

“Good to hear,” praised Rooshee. “Realmfleet out.” When the call ended, the door rang.

“Come in,” bid Arsha. Oak entered the room.

“Am I interrupting?” he asked.

“Not at all,” assured Arsha. “What’s on your mind?”

“There has been a rumor that we would be staying to rebuild Domoroto,” reported Oak.

“Sorry to disprove that rumor,” sighed Arsha. “It would be nice to see the Shrine City opened, but we have another mission from Realmfleet. We’re delivering medical supplies to the Vorkath Monastic Hospital.”

“I see,” mused Oak. “Do we have a destination to retrieve the medical supplies for them?”

“According to the mission description,” replied Arsha, “we’re getting them from the Naval Base in Galthar.”

“That’s not too far away,” recalled Oak. “Now, if memory serves, Vorkath is a city for the Chimeras outside of Wysper City, Lardeth and Falnii’s home.”

“I don’t have a guarantee that Lardeth’s ship, the High Sky, will be there,” continued Arsha, “but Falnii, unless she’s on a diplomatic mission, visits her parents at this time of year.”

“A surprise visit?” asked Oak.

“No, Zephyrs usually prefer knowing about visits,” answered Arsha. “I’d rather she be prepared for me. Inform the crew that we’ll be moving out shortly.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” confirmed Oak. He then left her quarters. Arsha then typed in a number on her screen. The screen rang for a few seconds before a woman appeared. This was one of her fiancés, Falnii. She had grey skin and was in a dress made of clouds, just like her hair and hairpieces on either side of her head. The symbol on her breastbone indicated her status and position. Her expression brightened when she saw Arsha’s face.

“Hello, Foxy,” she said in her quiet tone.

“Hello, Fluffy,” replied Arsha. “My ship is going to be making a delivery of medical supplies to the Vorkath Medical Hospital in a week. I figured, once we land, I might grant shore leave after the harrowing battle we’ve had a few days ago.”

“I heard about it during Jargoon’s trial,” remarked Falnii. “I’m just disgusted that Mega-sharks would stoop that low. And he still insisted that it was his right!”

“I’m not exactly thrilled either,” muttered Arsha. “Some of the inhabitants of Domoroto may never recover.”

“Still,” mused Falnii, “it’s nice to see that justice is finally being served. I just hope that the Under-realm is okay with the increase in its Mega-shark population.”

“Actually, yes they are,” replied Arsha. “They’ve told Realmfleet that, since they originally came into being there, they felt their spread into the other Realms was their fault. They’re happy Mega-sharks abandoned a Realm. Makes it easier to keep track of.”

“Good to hear,” cheered Falnii. “I look forward to your arrival. My parents and sisters always enjoy seeing you.”

“And I enjoy seeing them as well as you,” chuckled Arsha. “See you soon. Arsha out.”

“Bye,” bid Falnii as she gave her usual shy wave. The call ended and Arsha made her way to the Bridge. When she arrived, the crew was ready.

“Helm, set course for Galthar,” she directed.

“Course laid in,” reported Nazay.

“Nice and easy,” commanded Arsha.

“Aye, Ma’am,” confirmed Nazay. The Endeavor’s landing struts retracted as the ship rose from its spot on the seafloor. It breached the surface like a massive, silver whale. Unlike the whale, however, the Endeavor went higher and higher, taking a northeastern direction for Galthar.

---

Jargoon sat in his cell, scowling at the guards. Never had he been humiliated so much. Never had he felt such betrayal. He was in a state of perpetual anger. “Is the widdle fishy mad?” asked the guard, an Incubus.

“Laugh it up, Lust monster!” snarled Jargoon.

“At least I never stoop to slavery!” growled the guard, offended.

“Your brand of life is supposed to BOW to me!” demanded Jargoon.

“When are you going to get it through your thick head,” hissed the guard, “that life never really bows to ANYTHING?!”

“Then why have rulers?!” roared Jargoon.

“Not the same thing!” replied the guard.

“Believe me, it is!” argued Jargoon.

“You have the biggest superiority complex in all the Realms!” snapped the guard.

“We didn’t ask to be superior!” bellowed Jargoon.

“Oh, good grief!” cried the guard. “The Mega-shark’s burden!”

“Exactly!” replied Jargoon.

“I’ve heard enough!” shouted the guard. He pressed a button near the door and all sound coming out of the cell was cancelled. “You can stay in there and rant as long as you want. At least I don’t need to listen to you!” Jargoon started bellowing at the guard, but he couldn’t hear.

---

Orbak, his wife Elmpam, and Malnar were in the throne room, looking on Veloom. He drummed his fingers as he waited for the Council’s recommendation. A Councilor then stepped into the room. “We have decided,” she reported. “The Mega-sharks are too dangerous to be left in the other Realms. We need Realmfleet to relocate them back to our Under-realm.”

“Thank you, Councilor,” replied Orbak. “That will be all.” The Councilor bowed, then left the throne room. “Veloom,” growled Orbak, “can you give me any particular reason why I SHOULDN’T relocate all Mega-shark colonies back to the Under-realm?”

“You and your family are well within your rights to do so,” sighed Veloom.

“We’re not talking about our rights!” snarled Elmpam. “Answer my husband’s question!”

“I have no answer,” muttered Veloom. “I was simply allowing my dark passions to guide me.”

“Dark passions?!” snapped Malnar. “Then you and your people have abused them!”

“Your Excellencies,” argued Veloom. “With respect, we have not. We have obtained pleasure, as is our right…!”

“That right,” roared Malnar as she stood up, “has responsibilities! All rights have responsibilities! Before you even mention the harems, let me remind you that it has evolved from its dark origins of enslaved people! Nowadays, it’s a consensual bond between Harem Master and Harem Member! Enfanti of the Blue Rose Harem can attest to that!”

“There is a limit to how far we allow our dark passions to guide us to power,” continued Elmpam, “and you Mega-sharks just reached it!”

“We’re having all Mega-sharks in all the Realms relocated back to their ancestral waters in the Actanila Mega-shark Grounds!” shouted Orbak. “Is that clear?!”

“Orbak, you can’t deny us the right to spread!” roared Veloom.

“I can, and I will!” affirmed Orbak. “And the correct form of address is ‘Your Majesty’! Now, GET OUT!” He summoned a teleport circle underneath Veloom and she vanished back to the Actanila Mega-shark Grounds.

“I won’t miss her,” hissed Malnar.

“Malnar, sweetie,” directed Orbak, “would you inform Realmfleet about my request?”

“Sure thing, Daddy,” replied Malnar.

“I’ll tell Frigandor’s assembly,” supplied Elmpam, “about the increase in the Mega-shark population off their northwestern shores.”

“You do that,” replied Orbak. “I need to prepare my address to the Under-realm relating to his matter.” All three of them went off to their separate destinations to fulfill their duties.

---

Over in the Over-realm, in the Falfan shipyards, a large, imposing ship with a cloud design was ready to launch again. This was the CRS-3395, High Sky, under the command of Crown Prince Lardeth Malfam, future ruler of the Over-realm and one of Arsha’s fiancés. Lardeth was gliding along with Falnii, his clouds in a dress style, as is standard for all Zephyrs regardless of gender, and wearing cloud hairpieces to hold a veil behind his head. His silver adorned lips were in a smile as he looked at Falnii. She was talking about her conversation with Arsha. “She’s going to be visiting?” quizzed Lardeth. “I might meet her on the way.”

“I hope you do,” replied Falnii. “She misses you.”

“And I miss her,” sighed Lardeth. “A Captain’s life is a lonely one.”

“How many years do you have left in your tour?” asked Falnii.

“Two more, starting tomorrow,” replied Lardeth. “I must return to the High Sky. Farewell, Fluffy.”

“Farewell, Princess,” called Falnii. They then went their separate ways.

The combined fleet had assembled. Because of the nature of the mission, all Realmfleet members were required to wear their duty uniforms instead of their usual clothes. The duty uniform consisted of a grey shirt with long sleeves and a pair of black pants with a black, loose, knee-high skirt. The trim on the uniforms signified where the person worked at. Red was for ensigns, orange was for engineering, yellow was for security, green was for the sciences, blue was for the medical profession, and purple was for command. If the person wearing the uniform was not bipedal or naturally had a way to obscure the lower half, the shirt was the only thing required. Arsha adjusted her purple-trimmed shirt and tied off her bun, forgoing her rose hairpiece. She then adopted an authoritative stance. Time to project confidence. She strode onto the bridge to see all bridge crewmembers in their uniforms. Oak, Nazay, Shalvey, and Laverda had purple trim, Dalengor and Malak had yellow, Thangred and Melandra had orange, Elmar and Orthena had green, and Marshii and Thengo had blue. “All decks report ready,” reported Dalengor.

“All ships are standing by,” called Shalvey. “They await your command.”

“Ship to ship communications, Commander Shalvey,” ordered Arsha as she sat down.

“Channel open, Captain,” replied Shalvey.

“All ships, we’re ready,” said Arsha over the channel. “Move out!” The channel closed. “Nazay, set course for the Trelfan Trench, all available speed.”

“Trelfan Trench, all available speed,” confirmed Nazay. The Endeavor then moved to lead the combined fleet to battle. Like a great silver and pink wall, the fleet of the Kurontar Sea and Realmfleet ships ploughed through the water inexorably.

---

King Jargoon, the leader of all Mega-sharks across the Realms, patrolled the perimeter of the trench. He had to deal with his family’s personal slave, the former Queen Roomeela, sister to Forneth, not performing as fast as she usually did in her 50,000 years of enslavement. After giving her 20 lashes, he got healers to fix her up and cure any illnesses that may have snuck into her body. A sick or injured slave is valueless in his mind. He was about to swim back down when a scout swam to him. “Your Majesty!” she yelped. “A Realmfleet force is coming with those fish-people as well! They’ve crossed the border in an attack formation heading directly here!”

“WHAT?!” bellowed Jargoon. “HOW DARE THEY?! CALL OUT THE SOLDIERS! WE’RE DEFENDING OUR HOME!” The horn blew and the Mega-shark soldiers swarmed out of the trench. The fleet arrived, laying down suppressing fire while the smaller fighter crafts attacked the soldiers. The fight was brutal, both sides sustaining casualties.

---

“Keep on them,” urged Arsha as the Endeavor chased a Mega-shark light cruiser.

“I’ll give them this,” muttered Nazay as his fingers danced across the console, “the Mega-sharks know how to pilot their crafts.

“So do you, Commander,” encouraged Arsha.

“Stay on them,” urged Oak.

“I’m trying, Sir,” replied Nazay. “And they say we Nagas are slippery.”

“Unable to lock target,” growled Malak. The ship then rocked as something hit it. “We have two Mega-shark heavy cruisers aft of us!” called Malak. “Bearing 2-7-0-mark 1-0-4!”

“Evasive action Arsha Sigma,” Arsha ordered Nazay.

“Hang on!” called Nazay. The Endeavor then loop-de-looped over the Mega-shark ships and ended up behind them. Malak took the opportunity and fired on them, destroying them.

“Nice work,” praised Arsha.

“Couldn’t have made those shots without Nazay’s help,” called Malak.

“Yeah,” hissed Nazay, “but I lost the light cruiser we were chasing.”

“I’m not too choked up,” replied Malak. “Plenty more for us to choose from.” I wish I could say that was a good omen, but it wasn’t. The Mega-sharks decided to go on a few kamikaze runs on the Merfolk’s Shellcrafts. Both crafts exploded on impact. It wasn’t looking too good for the combined fleet.

“Captain,” reported Shalvey, “King Vorko for you.”

“On screen,” commanded Arsha. King Vorko, one of Marianes’ dads, appeared, his brown beard disheveled by the battle.

“The Realmcutter’s been destroyed,” he reported. “That entire line is collapsing.”

“We’ll try to help,” assured Arsha.

“With what?!” asked Vorko. “Arsha, we’re losing too many ships! We’ve got to find a way to turn the Mega-shark’s left flank!”

“It’s too well protected,” replied Arsha, “but their lines are spread pretty thin in the middle.”

“You help the Realmfleet ships,” directed Vorko. “Forneth and I will hit the center.”

“On my way,” answered Arsha. The call ended. “Shalvey, have attack wings 23 and 24 follow us.

“Aye, Ma’am,” confirmed Shalvey.

---

“What is going on up there?!” growled Jargoon’s wife, Veloom.

“We’re unable to get an accurate reading at the moment,” replied a guard, “but, I assure you, we will hear the victory horn momentarily.”

“You’ve been saying that for the past hour!” roared Veloom as she swam closer, her teeth bared. “Meanwhile, there’s no way of contacting my husband! No way of knowing how the battle is going!” Roomeela, her brown hair showing the abuse she suffered for 50,000 years and her tail in constant pain, noticed her captors’ distress. She decided to bide her time until a signal could reach her and her people.

---

“Mega-shark ship off the port bow!” reported Malak. “Shields are down to 50%!” The ship rocked again. “Another Mega-shark ship to port!”

“Thangred, auxiliary power to port shields!” ordered Arsha. “Shalvey, we need some support from our attack fighters!”

“Aye, Captain!” called Shalvey. The ship rocked again.

“Another Mega-shark off the starboard aft!” relayed Malak.

“Arsha,” reported Shalvey, “most of our fighters are either destroyed or under attack themselves!”

“Commander, give us some breathing room!” ordered Arsha.

“I’m trying!” called Nazay. The Endeavor still had the three Mega-shark ships on her, at least, until Forneth managed to dive into them and destroy them.

---

The main command center was filled with every single pleasure slave the Mega-sharks have kept for 50,000 years. A look of horror crossed Veloom’s face as the long range sensors displayed Forneth destroying ships. A murmur could be heard throughout the slave population. “Quiet,” ordered Veloom. She then noticed that she didn’t get immediate obedience. “I said, quiet. You are bred to serve us and obey us. Quiet.”

“No!” snarled Roomeela. Veloom gave the former Queen her full attention.

“What did you say?” she hissed.

“I SAID NO!” roared Roomeela as she leaned back and decked Veloom in the snout. That was all the motivation the enslaved merfolk needed. They started breaking their chains and grasping at the shells on their backs. Veloom recovered.

“Neuro-shells,” she ordered. The Mega-shark at the console pressed a button and pain filled the merfolk, but still, they managed to grab the shells. “NEURO-SHELLS!” bellowed Veloom.

“They’ve thrown up mental blocks!” called the Mega-shark. “I can’t get them to fall in line!” The merfolk then tore the shells off and threw them onto their oppressors. This time, the Mega-sharks felt how bad their own devices were. As the Mega-sharks tried to terminate the treatment, the merfolk swam out of the command center and joined the battle.

---

“How goes the battle?” asked Jargoon.

“We’re still in a standstill with the enemy,” reported a Mega-shark. “We shall soon break through their…do you hear that?”

“MY LORD!” called another Mega-shark. “BENEATH US!” The formerly enslaved merfolk then attacked Jargoon’s forces from below.

“HOW DID THEY GET OUT?!” bellowed Jargoon. “DISCIPLINE THEM!”

“They’ve removed their neuro-shells!” called a Mega-shark. “They CAN’T be disciplined!”

---

“Your Highness! Look!” yelled Nazay.

“I see it!” cheered Arsha. “We have the Mega-sharks surrounded! Lock onto Jargoon and warp him to the bridge!”

“Got him!” replied someone from the Port Deck. Jargoon appeared on the Endeavor’s bridge and started gasping before he attached rebreathers on his gills. He then got up.

“You have forced me to accept a handicap,” he growled, “and walk on two legs like a foul land-dweller! HOW DARE YOU!” He then started swinging wildly, a poor decision. He wasn’t as adept at fighting in air as he was in water. Arsha dodged his swings, then decked him in the eye, the rough equivalent to hitting a human below the belt. Dalengor then fired a stun blast and knocked Jargoon out.

“Good shot,” complimented Arsha. “Is the cell ready for him?”

“Ready and waiting,” cheered Dalengor.

“Throw him in the brig,” directed Arsha. Dalengor strode over to Jargoon and cast a teleport spell on the pair of them, taking them to the brig.

“Captain,” reported Malak, “the enemy lines have collapsed!”

“Thank goodness for the slave uprising,” cheered Oak.

“King Vorko wants to talk to you,” called Shalvey.

“Put him through,” replied Arsha. Vorko appeared on the screen.

“Roomeela, Forneth’s sister,” he relayed, “has told us about how the uprising happened. Forneth’s presence encouraged them to rebel. We’ve got Jargoon’s forces in our brigs and the former slaves are receiving medical treatment.”

“That’s great news,” cheered Arsha. “What about the rest of the Trench’s denizens?”

---

“My Queen,” urged a Mega-shark after the shells were removed, “we must avenge your husband! We must avenge our forces! I’ll summon an army to destroy the enemy and…!”

“What army?!” bellowed Veloom. “All we have left are civilians! Pregnant women! Children! Guards! Not soldiers! Admit it, we’ve lost. Begin evacuation procedures. Pregnant women and children are top priority. The guards will cover the retreat.”

“NO!” roared the Mega-shark. “We can’t leave the Trench to those fish-people!”

“I have had enough of disobedience for one day!” shrieked Veloom as she slashed his face with her claws. As he cradled his face, Veloom turned to the rest of her people. “Anyone else?!” she challenged. No one dared speak up. “Evacuate the Trench,” she ordered. “Use all available speed to our Realmgate. We’re returning to our ancestral Under-realm.”

---

“The civilians are evacuating the Trench,” reported Malak. “A Realmgate has been opened, leading to the Under-realm.”

“They’re returning to their ancestral seas,” guessed Marshii.

“My friends,” cheered Vorko, “songs will be sung of this day. Once this affair is over, I’ll have a guard posted in the Trench to watch the Realmgate.”

“It will lead to a community living there again,” cheered Erga. “A merfolk community.”

“With respect,” sighed Roomeela as she swam onto Vorko’s bridge, “I don’t think any of us will live there a second longer. We need to return to our home, even if it IS in ruins.”

“We will help you rebuild,” assured Vorko. “Your kingdom will live again!”

“Not MY kingdom,” countered Roomeela. “I have given up my crown. To wear it again would only have me dwell on what was instead of learning the lessons from that time. That’s not what the Order was founded on. The city I once ruled will become a shrine.

“A shrine city,” realized Arsha. “The amount of pilgrimages would be staggering.”

“That shrine city will still have people living there,” replied Roomeela.

“What was your city called?” asked Vorko.

“Oh, you’ve read about it in some measure,” answered Roomeela. “It was the original capital of the Kurontar Sea, Domoroto.”

“Domoroto?!” gasped Vorko. “I don’t believe it! It’s the historical find of the age! The scholars of Rampenar will be all over that like minnows to plankton!”

“Will Realmfleet be prevailed upon to help rebuild Domoroto into a shrine city?” quizzed Roomeela.

“I’ll have to clear it with the Realmfleet Council,” replied Arsha, “but I doubt they’ll say no.”

“Thank you!” cheered Roomeela. “We will see you at the base!” The call ended.

“Speaking of the base,” mused Arsha. “Shalvey, contact Marianes. I have news to give to her in my ready room.”

“Aye, aye, Captain,” replied Shalvey.

---

It took a few minutes to get the call through. By that time, Arsha had just put her dress on and was retying her bun when Marianes appeared on her screen. “I heard the news from Daddy!” she cheered. “Domoroto, the ancient capital of the Kurontar Sea before Rampenar claimed that title, now being rebuilt as a shrine city for the Order of Ancestry! I have to thank Roomeela in person. My spouses and I have a new prayer spot and honeymoon location!”

“I’m glad you’re enjoying the news,” chuckled Arsha as she opened a small drawer and took her hairpiece out. She repined it and adjusted it, prompting a look of confusion from Marianes.

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you without your hairpiece,” she observed.

“I never have it on during conflict,” replied Arsha. “It taints the luck it brings.”

“It’s a good-luck charm?” asked Marianes.

“Something Foresna’s mother gifted to me on her death-bed,” explained Arsha. “It’s usually passed to the daughter of the family, but Foresna’s sister didn’t want it. She’s been a bit of a rough and tumble girl, not exactly a fan of ‘girly’ stuff. Any woman who wears this is blessed with luck and happiness, but it must never be worn if you are in any kind of conflict from the smallest argument to the largest battle. If so, the luck will drain from the rose and it will wither. She was the kindest woman I ever met.”

“I see,” mused Marianes. “How did it become lucky in the first place?”

“There’s a legend behind that,” replied Arsha. “Before the First Age of Unity, a witch had a garden. She didn’t have the gardener’s touch as everything wilted within a few days. A woman passed by and saw the witch railing against her fate as a poor gardener. She offered to help the witch, but this witch was a suspicious one. She initially refused, but the woman persisted. Finally, the witch caved and allowed the woman to fix her garden. After a few weeks, the garden was in full bloom. The witch soon realized that the woman did it out of the goodness of her heart, so she took a rose from the garden and used her magic to make a hairpiece out of it. She then gifted it to the woman saying to never wear the rose in conflict or the luck that has been infused within will kill the rose. Over time, the rose was passed down the line, bringing luck wherever it went.”

“And now, you wear it,” observed Marianes.

“Foresna’s mother was instrumental in my learning,” recalled Arsha. “I want to honor her in the best way possible.”

“Well, you’re doing a good job,” replied Marianes. “In the meantime, I’m off to help rebuild Domoroto. See you around!”

“See you around,” bid Arsha. The call ended, leaving Arsha to think on one thing, the brave soldiers that lost their lives in the Trench.

“I still say this is a bad idea,” muttered Troga as he performed the weapons systems checks.

“Your concern is noted,” replied Palmanar in her own craft. Her brother, Rokomar, was pilot while Palmanar manned the weapons.

“All checks complete,” reported Marianes.

“Same here,” called Rokomar. A call then came through to the Shellcrafts.

“This is Arsha,” said the caller. “My craft is approaching your position.”

“We see it,” remarked Marianes. “Joining now.” The Shellcrafts took off and flanked Arsha. The pilots gave Arsha the necessary course adjustments to the Trelfan Trench on the way. Soon, they passed by a glowing red line on the sea floor.

“That’s the border,” gulped Palmanar. “We’re in Mega-shark territory now.”

“Recommendations?” asked Arsha.

“Just fly casual,” suggested Marianes. They continued onwards, feeling eyes about them. Mega-sharks came out of their homes, their humanoid appearance tall and imposing, just to float in place and glare. Still, the journey continued onwards. Soon, they reached a rather dark place, a large, continent-wide chasm that ran deep. This was the capital of the Mega-sharks, the Trelfan Trench. Mega-sharks in armor swam up to the crafts and surrounded them.

“We’re being hailed,” called Arsha.

“Open a channel, all of you,” directed Palmanar. “We don’t want to appear aggressive.” The three pilots complied and a Mega-shark’s deep voice rang throughout the crafts.

“Foreign craft, you have crossed the border!” he boomed.

“We’re fully aware of that,” assured Arsha. “Allow me to introduce myself. I am Arsha, Captain of the Endeavor. I am here to gather an ingredient for a member of my crew. He is ill and needs the mucus of the clownfish that live here.”

“Your crewman’s life means nothing,” growled the Mega-shark. “Leave our territory or we will destroy you.”

“We have no choice,” replied Marianes. “Your…superior clownfish are needed to help him.”

“…Well, everything we do and have IS better than anything Realmfleet can dredge up,” mused the Mega-shark.

“And if you allow us to use the mucus of your clownfish,” continued Arsha, about to throw up at even thinking of her next words, “we would finally be admitting that YOU are the superior race.” There was a murmur as the Mega-sharks considered.

“…We will take you to the anemone our clownfish dwell in,” rumbled the Mega-shark that spoke to them. Surrounded on all sides, the crafts descended. Rokomar then started rubbing his scalp.

“Is something wrong?” asked Palmanar.

“I feel…sadness,” replied Rokomar, “…despair, helplessness, hopelessness, …VIOLATION! I can feel their pleasure slaves’ unending torture!”

“What’s going on?” asked Arsha.

“Rokomar’s got telepathic and empathic abilities,” explained Palmanar. “Whenever he feels stray emotions, he tries to find the source of it.”

“I’d say he found it,” muttered Marianes.

“No, only the surface problem,” countered Rokomar, “the rest is muddied by…that doesn’t make sense. The other problems are muddied by millennia of pain!”

“Perhaps they’re descendants of the original slaves?” asked Arsha.

“No, they’re reading as the original slaves themselves,” replied Rokomar.

“Millennia old slaves?” mumbled Arsha.

“Halt!” called the Mega-shark. The crafts and their escort stopped. “We’re here. We will collect the mucus. You will teleport it into one of your crafts once it is done.” Two Mega-sharks descended to the anemone the clownfish live in and got to work. “How much do you require?”

“Two handfuls,” replied Arsha.

“Plenty to spare,” growled the Mega-shark. The process took an hour, but enough mucus was collected. Arsha then lit up a pair or her tails and brought the mucus into her craft. “Now, do you remember the way back to our borders?”

“We do,” assured Marianes.

“Then leave, and don’t dare to come back or we will not be so lenient next time!” threatened the Mega-shark. The crafts turned around and they sped back to their side of the border.

“Honestly, that went better than I expected for Mega-shark mating season,” sighed Troga.

“Not very hospitable, are they?” muttered Arsha. “I’ll be returning to the Endeavor.”

“And we’ll head back to base,” replied Palmanar. “I hope Laverda gets better soon.”

“I hope so as well,” sighed Arsha. The Shellcrafts returned to base and Arsha made her way back to the Endeavor. She was granted clearance to enter the ship’s launch bay and when she got close enough, the crew on the ship took over the flight controls of the fighter craft. It touched down and the water that entered the launch bay was drained away. After the drying spells were cast, Arsha stepped out and ran to Sick bay. Marshii was standing vigil over Laverda. The medical stasis spell had worn off and Laverda had only an hour left to live. He was in a lot of pain.

“GIMME!” shouted Marshii when she saw the bag of mucus. She got to work making the cure and taking enough to fill the syringe. Laverda had only 10 minutes left when she stuck the needle into his arm. She and Arsha waited five minutes before any physical changes occurred. “Virus cell count is going down,” sighed Marshii. “The larger heart’s taking over. The larger lungs are switching on. Hearts rate’s reaching normal. He’s gonna make it!” Laverda then groaned and tried to get up. “No, you don’t!” snapped Marshii as she set him back down, albeit with a little difficulty.

“Doctor, I’m already…!” protested Laverda.

“You keep arguing with me,” threatened Marshii, “you’ll be laid up for two weeks! If you cooperate, you’ll be out in four days.”

“Well,” sighed Arsha, “I think I’ll return to my station.”

“After all the stress you went through?!” hissed Marshii. She then pointed to one of the beds. “THAT’S your station!”

“Doctor, I do believe you enjoy the power you have a little too much,” mused Arsha as she laid on the bed.

“Indeed, Captain,” chuckled Laverda. “I’ve never seen her so happy when your father was in command of this ship.”

“Shut up!” snapped Marshii. Arsha opened her mouth but was promptly shushed. After a few seconds of silence, Marshii grinned. “Well, how about that? I got the last word with a Royana.”

---

After two hours rest, Arsha was cleared. She returned to the base to help Palmanar and Marianes report their findings to Realmfleet. A male Orc Admiral, Rokalla, was on the other end of the call, as was Admiral Rooshee. “You did WHAT?!” he shouted.

“I couldn’t let Laverda die!” replied Arsha.

“So you thought it was a good idea to simply waltz into Mega-shark territory and risk your life like that?!” growled Rokalla.

“Admiral, she had a good reason!” protested Rooshee.

“I can’t believe you’re siding with her!” wailed Rokalla.

“We’ve long believed that the Mega-sharks would never stoop to slavery,” countered Rooshee, “that it was merfolk propaganda. Clearly we’ve insulted the merfolk and must do what we can to free the slaves.”

“And the mystery merman?” asked Marianes.

“If we can find him,” mused Rooshee, “maybe we can get some answers.”

“We have two mystery leads,” muttered Arsha. “That book that was discovered and the merman.”

“A fleet is arriving tomorrow,” answered Rooshee. “The Endeavor will be the flagship.”

“I can convince my parents to send a fleet to aid yours,” Marianes chimed in.

“Much appreciated,” replied Rooshee.

“I can’t believe this!” groaned Rokalla. “Millenia of peace, and it all goes away!”

“We’re arresting the Mega-sharks’ leader when we win,” replied Rooshee. “Besides, this came from the Realmfleet council.”

“Doesn’t mean I like it!” grumbled Rokalla. “Expect the fleet to arrive in the morning. Realmfleet out.” The call ended.

“I need to call my parents,” declared Marianes. “In the meantime…” she didn’t get very far as a merman picked something on sensors.

“There’s an object coming directly towards us at a speed of 75 knots!” he reported.

“How far away is it?” asked Palmanar.

“It’ll breach our shield perimeter in 2 minutes!” called the merman.

“Too close for comfort,” declared Palmanar. “Red Alert. Raise shields. Arm all weapons batteries.” A red dome surrounded the base as the turrets came out of the ground, training themselves on the object. The object stopped, causing bubbles to appear when it stopped. The bubbles cleared to reveal the mystery merman, just floating there, ready to strike at a moment’s notice. “Standby,” ordered Palmanar. “Don’t engage unless he makes an aggressive action against us.” As soon as she gave the order, Erga burst in with the book that was dug up.

“Open a channel to him!” he called.

“What?!” yelped Palmanar.

“I think I have something that may explain his behavior,” answered Erga. “Open a channel and he can confirm what I read.” The staff looked to Palmanar for orders.

“…Open a channel,” she commanded. The Communications Officer complied and opened a channel.

“This book was written by the Queen of your home,” began Erga. On screen, the merman’s face had surprise written all over it. “It detailed the disaster that befell your people 50,000 years ago,” continued Erga. “I have a passage here that may explain your hostility towards us.” He opened the book and read the passage. “‘It is over. My people are now eternal slaves to the Mega-sharks. We have had spells woven onto us that will never let us die or age as we are violated, body and soul, by our new masters. We’ve fought for so long, but we couldn’t win. I have already surrendered myself to the Mega-shark Rulers to be their family’s personal slave. My brother, Forneth, my greatest treasure, the founder of our beliefs, is trapped in fiend-ice. Even if the ice could be melted, his vocal cords are paralyzed. He can never call for help again. Our children have escaped to the nearby kingdom. They can never be touched. Oh, how I wish the Mega-sharks learned the truth why our kingdom decided to forgo clothes. We only wished to communicate with our ancestors. Alas, only lust controls these creatures. They only see nudity as a means to attract mates. They did not take ‘no’ for an answer. We are lost. There is no hope for us. Farewell, life. May time rediscover us so our plight will be remembered.” The merman looked like he was sobbing. “Forneth,” called Erga. “That’s your name. While I am blessed to meet the Founder of the Order, I am saddened that your plight was heard 50,00 years later. I have good news though; we have a way to end the torture of your people.” Forneth looked up, his eyes still red and his face still displaying grief. “Realmfleet has sent a fleet of ships to assist us in getting your people free. I can personally promise you; your people’s suffering will end. This, I vow by my ancestors who escaped such torture.”

“The Order still exists,” supplied Palmanar. “A few members of the Royal Family are followers. We WILL assist you and we WILL restore your vocal cords. Will you help us end this barbarism?” Forneth was stunned, then cleared it as he nodded vigorously. “Palmanar to Infirmary, send a medical team to escort Forneth into the base. Stand down all weapons. Drop the shields.” As the red dome faded, a medical team swam to Forneth’s position and gave him a sickly-green potion.

“It’s gonna taste bad,” remarked one of the medics, “but the nerves to your vocal cords will reconnect to the proper nerve channels leading to the area that controls vocal communication.” Forneth drank it, nearly gagging, and let himself be escorted to the Infirmary to rest. He passed by Ops to see everyone inside.

“Thank you,” he whispered before swimming off.

“Well now,” mused Arsha, “we have an ally.”

“With him here,” chuckled Palmanar, “we’ll be able to plan a victorious attack.”

Arsha and Elmar were called into Sick bay. Their confusion was clear on their faces until Marshii came in. “All right, you two,” she began, “good news first or bad news?”

“That depends on which relates to what,” replied Elmar.

“Well, the bad news relates to something in the deeper parts of the Kurontar sea,” answered Marshii. “The good news relates to the peculiarity you found in the virus.”

“Then I think the good news is best,” confirmed Elmar.

“I agree,” supplied Arsha.

“The peculiarity you found, Elmar,” reported Marshii, “was the result of genetic experimentation. The DNA of the virus was artificially created. And that came with better news, artificial viruses only adapt to the drugs doctors are currently using. Any resistance to previous drugs, their genes deem as unneeded and so it is gone, making it easier to use an older drug to completely eradicate it.”

“New strains forget how to fight the rest of the drugs!” simplified Arsha.

“Bingo!” confirmed Marshii. “And, thanks to the database of the Over-realm’s Vorkath Monastery, the finest medical database in all the Realms, I discovered that our virus was eradicated before we were born.”

“So make the cure!” urged Arsha.

“That’s where the bad news comes in,” winced Marshii. “I have all the necessary ingredients to synthesize the cure except one. I need the mucus of a clownfish in the Trelfan Trench.”

“Then let’s get some!” insisted Arsha.

“Ill-advised,” countered Elmar. “The Trelfan Trench is a Mega-shark breeding ground and it is Mega-shark Mating Season here.”

“If anyone is foolhardy enough to try and go there now,” supplied Marshii, “the female Mega-sharks will use them as presents to attract the males. Both will then use them as ingredients for food or to seek pleasures of the flesh.”

“…Charming,” moaned Arsha.

“Besides,” continued Elmar, “they don’t recognize the authority of Realmfleet. They are rather xenophobic.”

“We can’t let Laverda die!” insisted Arsha. “Will a fighter craft get through their territory?”

“If escorted, I believe so,” guessed Elmar.

“Then I need to talk to Marianes now,” declared Arsha. “She can loan me the best fighter pilot in her kingdom.” She headed out of Sick bay and practically jogged, not very effectively in her dress, to the Port Deck, a room with the floor covered with warp circles. “The Velnar Base, Central Stage,” she directed to the transporter chief, a female Elf from the Under-realm. She was directed to a blue circle and all of the underwater survivals spells were rewoven onto her. She was then surrounded by green light as she teleported to the Central Stage Entrance. Marianes and her troupe were performing another routine to make up for the one that was interrupted by the merman. They performed at twice their usual excellence. When the routine was finished, the crowd gave off cheers and applause, raising the roof like never before.

“Thank you everyone!” called Marianes. “We hope you’ve enjoyed the show and took advantage of the merch special to make up for the interruption earlier today! We’re The Flowing Tails, and we hope you remember to…!”

“GO WITH THE FLOW!” finished the crowd, giving off one final cheer.

“Goodbye, everyone, and travel safe!” cheered Marianes. The crowd dispersed, all except Arsha, who swam up to Marianes. “Arsha!” called Marianes. “How’s Laverda?”

“Doing bad, but we know how to cure him,” replied Arsha. “The only trouble is, we need Trelfan Trench clownfish mucus.”

“…Did I hear that right?!” quizzed Marianes. “During Mega-shark Mating Season?! You WERE told about that trench being a Mega-shark breeding ground, were you?!”

“I know the dangers,” answered Arsha, “but I can’t let my best diplomat die!” Marianes sighed.

“So, you need a Combat Shellcraft?” she asked.

“I’m using one of my own fighter craft,” replied Arsha, “but I need an escort. Do you know who’s the best pilot here?”

“You won’t get far with just one person piloting a Combat Shellcraft,” elaborated Marianes. “They seat two people, one to fly the thing and one to man the weapons. I’m the best pilot and Troga’s the best at handling the weapons. We need to talk to him.”

“Talk to who?” asked a voice. It was Troga.

“Troga, sweetie,” called Marianes, “we need to take a Combat Shellcraft to the Trelfan Trench.”

“To WHERE?!” yelped Troga. “Not when the Mega-sharks are breeding, we’re not!”

“We need to get the mucus of the clownfish that live there!” insisted Arsha. “It’s needed to make the cure that Laverda needs!”

“I can’t risk anyone, especially royalty,” answered Troga, “going off into that trench!”

“Even if your WIFE is a royal family member?!” asked Marianes.

“ESPECIALLY that!” replied Troga. “I’m sorry, but if you’re that hell-bent on getting to the trench, you need to convince Palmanar to authorize this!”

“…All right, we will!” declared Marianes.

“Where is she?” asked Arsha.

“Let’s find out,” replied Marianes. “Computer, locate Major Palmanar.”

“Major Palmanar,” answered a masculine voice, “is taking dinner at Rokanth’s Family Diner.”

“The Northern side of the base,” elaborated Marianes. “Come on!” She and Arsha them swam in that direction.

---

Palmanar was enjoying her Rakurian Crab Cake, finally catching a much-needed break after Thangred and Layto fixed the base’s problems. The main problem was Layto. His instructions weren’t written in layman’s terms, thus confusing the poor Engineering crew. Thangred helped simplify things and now then Engineering crew understood how Layto kept Under-realm tech functioning with Mid-realm magic, thus fixing any problem while Layto geeked out at the site. Marianes was about to take another bite when she heard the Diner’s doors ring. She saw Arsha and Marianes swim over to her table. “Your Highnesses!” she called. “Please, sit!” They did so. “What can I do for you?” asked Palmanar.

“I need Troga’s help to pilot a Combat Shellcraft,” explained Marianes. “He’s reluctant to assist.”

“Why do you need a Combat Shellcraft?” asked Palmanar.

“…You don’t want to ask that,” gulped Marianes.

“Too late,” replied Palmanar, “I just did.”

“You don’t want to know,” insisted Marianes.

“I can’t loan you a Combat Shellcraft,” answered Palmanar, “or order Troga to man its weapons unless I know where you plan on taking it.”

“She needs it to escort my fighter craft,” revealed Arsha, “to the Trelfan Trench so we can collect the mucus of the local clownfish.”

“…You’re right, I DIDN’T want to know,” sighed Palmanar.

“Laverda’s dying!” begged Arsha. “That fiend-ice was laced with an artificial virus that’s shutting down his organs. He’s got 5 hours left in medical stasis. Once that spell wears off, the virus will kill him in six hours flat!”

“That DOES change a thing or two,” mused Palmanar. “But I can’t loan you a Combat Shellcraft.” Arsha and Marianes couldn’t believe it. “At least, not without my help on this venture.”

“You’re coming with us?” asked Marianes.

“I believe I just said that,” confirmed Palmanar. “Laverda’s an old friend of mine. I’ll be damned if I let him die.”

“Major, you have no idea how much this means to me!” cheered Arsha.

“Let me order Troga to help and we’ll get started,” assured Palmanar.

“I’ll inform you when my fighter craft is ready!” called Arsha. As both Marianes and Arsha swam out of the Diner, Palmanar brought out her shell-shaped communicator and called someone.

“Troga, I need you for a mission,” she directed.

The party had found itself at the Ruins’ entrance, a large gate that towered over everyone. Awe struck their hearts as the archaeologists continued their work. “Staggering!” breathed Arsha. “A kingdom we’ve never heard about appears and it may be where the Order of Ancestry began!”

“You can see why the Order’s helping out in any way it can,” mused Marianes as she pointed out a pair of Order Members, a merman and a mermaid. Arsha resisted the urge to arch an eyebrow at seeing a mermaid without even sea stars on her chest. She figured it would have been impolite.

“There is so much to learn here,” sighed Arsha. “We know so little about the Order’s origins. I envy you guys.”

“Your Highnesses!” called Laverda. “Over here!” Marianes and Arsha swam towards Laverda’s position in what was possibly a Throne Room. He was holding a thick book. “I believe THIS may help us unravel the mysteries of this place!” he guessed.

“How long has it been here?” asked Marianes.

“For 50,000 years,” revealed Laverda, “according to the archaeologists.”

“That should have rotted away and disintegrated,” muttered Arsha.

“That’s what we figured,” replied Laverda, “until the mages discovered an ancient version of a preservation spell on the book.”

“A preservation spell?” quizzed Arsha. “That kind of magic is recent! Only 100 years old!”

“The mages were all over that like ants and started studying it,” chuckled Laverda, “figuring that, if they could study an ancient spell, our modern twist on it can be improved.”

“What else has been found so far?” asked Marianes.

“Be patient,” replied a mermaid passing by, the head archaeologist, Moreeta. “We have to take things slow when digging something up. Any faster and we risk breaking it.”

“…You guys have the most mind-numbing job in all the Realms,” muttered Marianes.

“As do we diplo…” Laverda then cried out in pain as his hoof struck something. He started clutching it as a medic swam over and helped him lay down away from the object. Moreeta dusted some of the sand away to reveal a man’s arm in ice!

“Someone’s buried here!” she called. Arsha examined the ice and recoiled in horror.

“It’s fiend-ice!” she shouted. “Get him out!” The digging crew got the ice block out of the sand and found that the arm’s owner was a bare chested merman! The medical crew took him back to base to get him out of the ice, a result of dark magic, trapping the victim for a long time. Arsha called up her ship. “This is Arsha, calling Sick bay!” she called. “Marshii, respond!”

“What’s the matter?” asked Marshii’s voice. “You sound like you found a body.”

“We did!” replied Arsha. “A merman in fiend-ice! We need you here now!”

“On my way!” replied Marshii, sounding more urgent. Everyone headed to the base’s infirmary and did what they could to melt the fiend-ice. Marshii arrived, holding her medical kit and leaving her robot legs behind on the Endeavor to swim quickly to the scene. “Medical torch!” she directed. A small rod with a red jewel at the end was handed to her. She breathed on it and the jewel spewed a small flame, hot enough to cut steel. She chanted a spell to adjust the flame so it wouldn’t damage the merman inside as she cut him out. She started at the head so he could breathe. As she began cutting, one of the medical staff heard a crack. Then another, and another, until he saw that the ice was breaking at the merman’s fins at the end of his tail. A fissure then traveled up the ice and the merman started moving. With one last powerful thrash of his tail, the ice split off of him and he decked Marshii! The rest of the medical staff tried to restrain him, but it was no good. He was too strong and managed to escape the infirmary. Erga and Troga saw him swim out at top speed. A nurse told them what happened.

“Security team, to me!” called Troga. Erga followed him as they swam after the mystery merman. A security team joined them and he was spotted at Central Stage, the main venue where Marianes and her troop do their belly-dance routines. Sadly, such a routine was going on as the merman barreled through the dancers on stage. He was tangled in the mess and the security team arrived to sort it out. He was freed and started punching again. He had a rough time going against Erga. He may not have been the skinniest merman around, but his strength and speed were not to be underestimated. He kept the merman busy until the merman grabbed a dancer’s veil and threw it onto Erga’s head, charging it with magic so it couldn’t get caught in the current and fly as if it went through air. Erga was distracted enough for him to get away and leave the base. He finally got the veil off and Marshii was tending to whatever injuries he suffered.

“Okay, off to the infirmary with you!” she directed. “In fact, all of you!” she was addressing the security team as she said that. A bald mermaid of the Order opened her mouth to protest, but Erga stopped her.

“Sister Ransii,” he assured “it would not be good for anyone’s health if we argued with a doctor’s orders.” The mermaid then closed her mouth and was led to the infirmary.

---

Major Palmanar was discussing the altercation in her office with Arsha. “This merman’s caused a lot of chaos in my base,” she grumbled. “I want answers from him and I want them as fast as possible.”

“The Endeavor’s sensors will find this merman, I promise,” assured Arsha. “I just wish I knew why he acted that way in the infirmary.”

“Perhaps we’ll find out when we find him,” guessed Palmanar. As soon as she said it, a thud was heard outside the office. They got up to check on what happened and saw Laverda collapsed on the floor. Arsha checked his pulse and became worried.

“Arsha to Marshii!” she called over the communicator. “Medical emergency in the Command Center! Laverda’s just collapsed and his heart rate is through the roof!”

“I’ll port you right to the Endeavor’s Sick bay!” replied Marshii. A green light surrounded the two and they vanished in a runic circle before it faded from the base entirely.

---

Arsha and Laverda appeared in Sick bay as two nurses, one Centaur male and one Elf female, helped Laverda up onto a bed. Marshii waved a wand over him and got a reading. “Good heavens!” she gasped. “No wonder his heart rate’s so fast! His larger horse heart has shut down! His smaller human heart’s doing the work of both!”

“Doctor, there’s a puncture wound in the skin around his hoof!” revealed the Elf nurse.

“The same hoof he found the fiend-ice with!” growled Marshii. “Borto, get Elmar and Orthena’s help on this! I want that ice analyzed to see if there IS something in it that would attack a Centaur’s hearts like this!”

“At once!” confirmed the Centaur nurse as he made the necessary calls.

“Halnee,” directed Marshii to the Elf nurse, “I need a blood sample to see what kind of disease this is!”

“Yes, Doctor!” replied Halnee. She took off to get the necessary equipment.

“What can I do?” asked Arsha.

“You can wait for results OUTSIDE of Sick bay,” answered Marshii. Her tone indicated she will have no truck with backchat. Arsha stepped outside, letting Marshii do her work.

---

The blood sample revealed that Laverda WAS infected with a virus, a slow acting one that would shut down his entire circulatory system starting with the larger organs. One of his horse lungs had shut down before Marshii cast a medical stasis spell to prevent any other organs from shutting down. It could only last for six hours and the virus had six hours left to do its work once the spell faded. Elmar came in and delivered his analysis. “The virus DID have its origins in the fiend-ice,” he reported. “And I have also concluded that, during the merman’s encasement, it has mutated every year.”

“Impossible!” snapped Marshii. “I’ve looked up the mutation history of that virus and I can tell you now that it was supposed to have been eradicated! For it to mutate, people would have to have been fighting it for ages! The mutations would be a result of adapting to the newer drugs to that specific strain!”

“And yet,” observed Elmar, “it mutated WITHOUT such means. In other circumstances, it would make an ideal organism for study.”

“How can you not be worried about him?!” protested Marshii. “Laverda’s dying and you’re acting like you looked a Gorgon in the eyes!”

“You mistake me, Doctor,” replied Elmar. “I AM worried for him. I am simply channeling my worry into my duties.”

“Oh yeah?” hissed Marshii. “And have you made any more insightful observations?!”

“As a matter of fact, I believe I may have something,” answered Elmar. “I noticed a peculiarity in its genetic structure. As of now, I am unable to determine what that peculiarity is. I believe you have the tools needed to name it.”

“I’ll see what I can do,” sighed Marshii. She got a bit of the virus safely into a test tube and put it through a rigorous analysis that would take an hour before any conclusions were reached.

“Don’t tell me you don’t want to see this!” remarked Arsha as she went through her physical.

“No, thank you,” replied Marshii. “Mid-realm waters are too cold for an old Under-realm girl like me.”

“One, you’re only 35,000,” reminded Arsha. “That’s just middle age. Two, it’s an archaeological find!”

“I’m not interested in ruins!” snapped Marshii. “You history nuts go ahead with digging up some mausoleum, I’ll stay here and catch up on the medical journals I missed during the jarring trip to Falgreth!”

“Don’t you ever relax?” asked Arsha.

“Reading medical journals IS relaxing,” protested Marshii. “I gain comfort knowing that medical knowledge is expanding. It puts my mind at ease.”

“If you say so,” sighed Arsha. She finally got off the treadmill.

“All right, let’s measure the ol’ heart rate,” directed Marshii as she took out her stethoscope. She put it to Arsha’s chest and listened. “A bit fast by mermaid’s standards, but perfect for a human/kitsune hybrid. Next up is blood pressure.” She got the pressure monitor out and wrapped the gauge around Arsha’s arm. After a few squeezes, she released and got a reading. “Perfect blood pressure for a land-dweller, you’re perfectly healthy.”

“Thanks!” called Arsha as she went into a changing stall to get out of her workout clothes and back into her dress. It took a few minutes, but she came out pinning her rose hairpin where it usually sits. As soon as she gave a final adjustment, Shalvey’s voice came through.

“Bridge to Arsha,” she called.

“Go ahead,” directed Arsha.

“We’re just about to go over the Kurontar sea,” reported Shalvey. “We’ll convert to underwater mode at your arrival.”

“On my way,” replied Arsha. She made her way to the bridge and saw the crew doing its usual activities to keep the ship running. This time, it was little minor maintenance, nothing more. She arrived on the bridge. “All right, Nazay, underwater landing procedures.”

“Aye, Captain,” confirmed Nazay as his fingers danced across his console. The Endeavor dove down into the sea and activated lights. An orange aura then covered the ship and its crew before it faded. It was a spell for those that weren’t amphibious to walk around in the base as if they were going through air, allowed them to breath, and dried their clothes immediately when in contact with air. The Velnar Military Base and Commercial Port was lit up in splendor to attract businesspeople across the Realms to conduct their activities. It was also one of a great many places that held the weaponry and soldiers of the Kurontar sea and where Princess Marianes Caldora and her spouses worked and lived as soldiers, shop-keepers, and entertainers.

“Captain, did you adjust your eyes for Kurontar lighting?” asked Elmar.

“No, but thank you for reminding me,” answered Arsha. She snapped her fingers and her eyes glowed for a minute, then she started blinking a lot, clearing away any blindness she suffered. “Should have done that OUTSIDE of the ship,” she muttered. As soon as her eyes adjusted for both ship lighting and the darkness of the Kurontar sea, she stood up. “Laverda, Thangred, Dalengor, Elmar, with me. Oak, you’re in charge until we get back.”

“Aye, Ma’am,” replied Oak as he settled into the Captain’s chair when she gave the order. They headed to the lower exit and opened the door to reveal the water. Arsha went first, letting the water touch her dress and allowing its weight to pull her down. She landed safely on the seafloor and looked around, breathing normally and getting as much details in the water as she would when on the surface. Laverda, Thangred, Dalengor, and Elmar followed her and scanned the area like Arsha.

“Captain, a Super Class Shellcraft is approaching,” reported Laverda. Shellcrafts are shell-shaped Merfolk transports that range from the family-sized Common Class to the stadium sized Mega Class. Super class Shellcrafts were used to transport at least 20 people. The Shellcraft lowered landing struts and opened to allow a blue-haired Mermaid in a blue outfit that revealed her tummy. Her blue hair was adorned with a purple flower with a ribbon attached to it and she had a purple belt with the same flower at her hip and a bit of the belt flowing in the currents. She swam over to Arsha’ away team and shook Arsha’s hand vigorously.

“I always knew you would command a ship as grand as the Endeavor!” she cheered.

“It was on the docket as a political test,” replied Arsha. “It’s good to see you again, Marianes. How’s life treating you?”

“It’s been splendid, so far,” answered Marianes as they all headed for the Shellcraft. “I’ve been updating my belly-dancing routine lately and Rosa’s learned some new songs for me to perform to.”

“No kidding?” quizzed Arsha as they boarded.

“And Layto’s been improving the base’s construction by adding stairs for land-dwellers to easily get to the upper levels instead of swimming all over the place,” continued Marianes. “Although, with the new archaeological find, he’s left that to his engineers.”

“How good are the Engineers?” asked Elmar.

“They’re some of the greatest,” replied Marianes, “the problem is that it’s a mix of Under-realm technology and Mid-realm magic.”

“There’s a problem right there,” muttered Thangred. “Good thing you brought me along, Captain.”

“I was hoping you’d relax when we were there,” sighed Arsha.

“Never let an Engineer relax,” advised Thangred.

“Illogical,” said Elmar. “You need rest as much as anyone else.”

“Maybe in your eyes,” argued Thangred, “but I can overhaul a base no problem!”

“Honestly, I wouldn’t be surprised if poor Major Palmanar had complaints while I was away,” mused Marianes as she piloted the Shellcraft to the base.

---

Marianes was right. Palmanar, a neon-green tailed Mermaid in full armor, was at the Operations station when Floona, a raven-haired, teal-tailed Mermaid in a floral-pastel outfit, and Troga, a pink-tailed, brown haired, bearded Merman in armor, swam up to her. They spoke at the same time before stopping. “Go ahead,” they said to one another before talking to Palmanar at the same time again.

“One at a time!” snapped Palmanar. “Troga, you first.”

“I need an engineering crew,” began Troga, “to run a diagnostic on the security systems. There’s been an unusual number of false alarms lately.”

“I’ll send one right away,” assured Palmanar. “Floona?”

“There’s something wrong with the fire suppression spells in my shop,” reported Floona. “Every time I try to feed my lava lilies, the spells engage, make the area too fuel-deficient for them, and they wither and die in an instant!”

“I’ll put it on the list,” sighed Palmanar.

“Please do,” urged Floona. “You have no idea how much lava lilies cost for both me and my customers.” A bald, bare Merman swam in, wearing only a headband. Erga was his name.

“Excuse me, Major Palmanar,” he began.

“Don’t tell me!” snapped Palmanar. “The Seals in the Ancestral Shrine are out of whack!”

“…How did you…never mind, I can guess,” sighed Erga as he saw his other two spouses. At that moment, someone was pounding on the inside of the transport tubes. They looked up to see a pink tailed Mermaid in a Singing Idol’s outfit inside the tube. Palmanar and Troga swam up to open it. They had a bit of difficulty, but they pried the door open and let the Mermaid out.

“Rosa, are you alright?” asked Troga.

“Aside from a bit of claustrophobia playing up?” snarked the Mermaid, Rosa. “Fine. Major, do I even need to say what my complaint is?”

“No, I experienced the same thing around the base,” replied Palmanar. “I have an Engineering team working on it.”

“We seem to have a lot of system glitches,” muttered Floona as Rosa, Troga, and Palmanar rejoined them down below.

“Happens every time Layto leaves the base,” sighed Palmanar.

“I don’t understand why our husband’s staff can’t maintain the base while he’s away,” grumbled Troga.

“Must have left my brother in charge,” groaned Erga.

“The Engineering Crew is doing the best it can,” assured Palmanar.

“The problem is,” supplied Rosa, “no one knows how Layto can keep all this Under-realm tech working with Mid-realm magic.”

“Well, we’ve GOT to do something!” insisted Floona. “This can’t go on!”

“Is he at the site again?” asked Erga. “I told him Marianes was picking up Arsha today.”

“Here I am!” called a voice. A blue haired, green tailed Merman with a cybernetic left hand swam in. His purple shirt was a little dusty and he had a satchel of artefacts. “Erga, we have reason to believe that this was the original site of the Order of Ancestry! Look! Here is a worshipping bowl with the same insignia as your buddies! It was buried for around…!”

“Layto,” interrupted Rosa, “I like archaeology as much as the next girl, but we have more pressing issues. Arsha’s gonna be here any minute and the base’s mechanical systems are NOT functioning at their best.”

“…I left the staff specific instructions on how to fix this!” snapped Layto. He packed up his satchel. “I’ll get on it, but I can’t promise the base will be fixed in any reasonable time.”

“Just do what you can,” sighed Palmanar. The instant she said that, the proximity indicator beeped. She checked who it was. “Oh boy, it’s Marianes’ Shellcraft. She’s got Arsha and her party.” She then activated the viewscreen and a channel opened with Marianes and Arsha displayed.

“Hello, Major!” called Marianes. “I have returned with Arsha and someone that I’m sure Layto would appreciate.”

“Oh?” asked Layto. “Who is it, sweetie?”

“My Chief Engineer, Thangred,” replied Arsha.

“That old-timer?” said Layto as he grinned.

“It sounds like you need an old-timer’s help!” rumbled Thangred.

“Barring any malfunctions not yet reported,” interjected Palmanar, “landing pad 3 is available. We’ll meet you there, Your Highness.”

“Understood,” confirmed Marianes. “Marianes out.”

---

The Shellcraft landed on the assigned pad and opened to let everyone out. Rosa and Troga were there to greet them and gave a big hug to Marianes and Arsha. “Welcome to the Velnar Military Base and Commercial Port, Your Highness,” greeted Rosa, “…such as it is.”

“It still looks magnificent to me,” assured Arsha. “Lead on and we will follow.” Everyone followed Marianes to the Command Center.

“Here’s where the action is coordinated,” lectured Marianes. “And here’s Layto. How’s repairs?”

“Going badly,” sighed Layto. “Someone practically rearranged all power transfer relays in the base. I’m REALLY going to need Thangred’s help.”

“You have it,” replied Thangred. He followed Thangred to where they would start repairs.

“I’m surprised you didn’t bring another Engineer with you,” remarked Palmanar.

“We DO have another, but he’s a Drider,” answered Arsha, “and NOT one of the water ones.”

“Ah,” realized Palmanar. “Well, Layto’s got an expert with him. Things should be good.”

“Excellent,” praised Arsha. “Now, what’s this about an old Mer-kingdom being dug up?”

“From what Layto’s tried to tell us before you arrived,” replied Troga, “there’s proof that we’ve found the Order of Ancestry’s starting point.”

“Order of Ancestry,” muttered Arsha as she tried to recall where she heard it, “you’re going to have to remind me of it.”

“It’s centered around the belief,” answered Laverda, “that Merfolk do not need clothes as they interfere with remembering the past. They’re a religious order that keeps records of the past except where they started. That was lost long ago.”

“Sounds like a group that would start trouble over clothes,” mused Arsha.

“You would think that,” replied Marianes, “but the Order has specific rules of tolerance. Granted, you must have no clothes in their shrines, but they never turn their nose up at clothes in public. One of my husbands, Erga, and a few of my parents and siblings are members of the Order.”

“Quite a few Merfolk are members of the Order,” continued Troga. “As long as no one interferes with their activities and they don’t interfere in anyone else’s, both are tolerant.”

“That changes my views entirely,” chuckled Arsha. “So, if this IS the place where the Order was founded, what does that mean?”

“It means that their whole history will be published,” replied Rosa. “We can unravel the mystery as to why they came to our part of the Kurontar sea!”

“Layto, while not a member, has been studying the Order in his free time,” giggled Marianes.

“So, he’s over the moon at this discovery,” guessed Arsha. “We’ll help with the dig.”

“Thank you!” cheered Marianes. “Now, I’ve got to go. I have rehearsal for my routine tonight and I would like you guys to come.”

“We wouldn’t miss your belly-dances for the world!” assured Arsha.

“Splendid!” squealed Marianes. “Now, you need some quarters!”

“I’ll provide that,” called Palmanar. “If you and your company will follow Troga and I, Your Highness.”

“Lead the way,” directed Arsha. Everyone soon departed for their various destinations.