Once more Altair was empty, its halls silent apart from Miranda's echoing footsteps. The drones had been dismantled for parts and taken with the Musashi as it returned to Kusari space, to be delivered to the arch. Days passed as Miranda withdrew further into the mindshare, spending less time in her human form and more perusing the thought streams of the others. The wanderers would surely find an opportunity for her, if nothing else.
Miranda woke to the sound of proximity alarms and a blaring, robotic voice sounding through the halls of Altair...
"...Docking bay 3 Unauthorized Access... Docking bay 3 Unauthorized Access... Docking bay 3 Unauthorized Access..."
She hurried through the corridors, bare feet slapping on cold metal flooring, to the docking control room. Her mind raced trying to think of who would be docking without access codes, they had to have been let through to the station by the various nomad and drone patrols in the system, so hostiles were unlikely, but Wild personnel all had current docking information. Looking down from the control room into docking bay three, an overly large fighter spun around, setting down on landing gear as it rotated to face the docking bay doors. It was a Spatial - a long range vessel for surveying and exploration, a cross between a fighter and a small freighter. Miranda had never seen one in person, and rushed down the stairwell from the control room to the bay.
The vessel was scorched by weapons fire, though it did not appear significantly damaged. The hull plating bubbled and cracked in some locations from radiation and heat exposure. Everything about the ship was generic; no visible markings to identify ownership, no squadron colors, and unremarkable, civilian-grade weaponry. The rear of the ship opened up into a ramp, releasing a blast of vapor and mist as atmospheres collided, and a lone shadowed figure emerged from the cloud. He wore simple black robes with a high collar, the fabric cut into angular accents. He was young, perhaps in his early twenties, with plain features, bright gray eyes, and close-cut hair.
Miranda kept her guard up, focusing her mind and attempting to scan him telepathically via the mindshare. She sensed nothing. He was not wild, he had no incubi, and no connection to the others. As he approached, the man bowed deeply and went down to one knee, face turned down to the floor plating beneath his boots, he said nothing and the silence drug on to an uncomfortable level.
"Who are you?" Miranda asked, thoroughly puzzled by his appearance and unexpected arrival.
The man looked up as he stood from his overly formal bow, "Caliban. My name is Lucius Caliban."
"and..." Miranda continued, restating the question, "... who are you?"
"I am an... or was an Oracle, an Initiate."
Miranda's eyebrows furrowed questioningly, "We sent a request to them, it has been so long I was under the impression it was not received. We also recall requesting multiple personnel to aid with an already failed endeavor, not a single individual."
Caliban nodded uncomfortably, "The request was received... but they chose not to respond. Forbade it, even. I came on my own, quite certain my position with them is forfeit now."
"Why would they refuse to even acknowledge us? We were the mother of Oracles, have they forgotten who we are?"
It was apparent in his features that Caliban was thrown offguard by Miranda's unusual speech, her constantly referring to herself as a collective; an unfortunate side effect of being host to multiple alien entities and merging completely with the mindshare. He recomposed himself, "I am only an initiate, I do not presume to know their reasons, but I can speculate... times have changed, it has been years since any Oracle has seen or heard from you, and I think that they believe you're a myth, or possibly an imposter."
Miranda's eyes flashed like a bright purple flare, almost appearing to smoke. It was the first time she had experienced anger since being killed by The Order. "Imposter? We created them!"
Caliban seemed to physically shrink at Miranda's rage, backing up a step and lowering his posture in subservience. "I only speculate, I could be wrong."
She relaxed, the fire fading from her eyes, "If this is true, why did you come?"
He regained his composure, "I have only been with the Oracles for a few short years. I joined to be a seeker of knowledge, to learn the truth of the universe, and in my time among them I have achieved none of my goals, none of my dreams. I have seen elaborate displays of light to impress and quell followers, complex hoaxes to imitate a front of knowledge and power, and I have seen a focus on wealth and influence over any form of true prosperity. I do not believe the current leadership of the Oracles are interested in sating the thirst for learning that many of us have, they only appear to care for politics and public relations. I abandoned my duties and came here, against their wishes, because I had hoped to find purpose in seeking our founder."
Miranda stood silent for a moment, mulling over what he had said. She was furious to hear that her one-time followers had lost their way, but that anger was directed inward; it was her own doing, she had left them to their own devices and naively believed they would stay on the path she had laid out. Human motives would always fall to greed and corruption. Still, this man could present an opportunity, he could be useful; following her cloning, Miranda had become quite distinguishable from human - she was readily apparent as an alien, or at least an anomaly, to anyone she met. Having a true human operative to interact with others in her stead was not an opportunity to be wasted.
"Caliban, was it? You seek truth and knowledge? We can provide it, but we require your service. We require your loyalty. Pledge it, become our emissary, and you will know all that we do."
Caliban smiled and nodded eagerly, "Of course, I'll handle anything you need done, I knew it was the right choice to come here. I wont let you down."
Miranda afforded a tight lipped smile in return, "Make yourself at home here, refuel and restock your ship, we will call upon you when you are needed. For now, revel in the silence of this place, meditate on it, the stars speak their secrets to those who quiet themselves and take a moment to listen."
Miranda quietly approached Caliban. He was on the observation deck, sitting next to the window overlooking the empty drydocks below, gazing off into the blue nebula. His eyes followed the glowing crystalline forms of the nomads that passed by, gliding through space like fish through water. She sat down across from him and watched the light show.
"The spirits are beautiful..." he muttered, just loud enough for her to hear.
"They aren't spirits." She corrected him. He chuckled and turned to her, "Well, that's what the Oracles tell us."
"They're certainly magnificent beings, the 'spirits' term was coined by the Outcasts for their resemblance to angels from old earth mythology. We cannot say we are surprised that the term has thrived, humans always deify what they cannot explain. We were once seen as a prophet, after being bound to the custodian of the Shrine." Miranda reflected on the past, and her shattered memories, staring out the window into space as she spoke.
Caliban stared at her, taking in her features, the glow of her skin, the light that seemed to emanate from within her eyes, she often looked more like one of the creatures in space than a human. "I'm curious about the Shrine, and the Oracles' origins. I was never told much, and the only temple I've seen is the one on Malta."
"We were a Zoner, once... an explorer, traveling through space in a vessel, with a crew, far from the houses. We wanted to learn, to discover what lay beyond the known territories. We found the Shrine, an amazing structure, alien to us then, but familiar now. It called to us, a song we could hear across the vastness of space, a song that played in our minds more than our ears, like the call of a Siren luring us in. Our crew didn't hear the song, only we did."
She stood, pacing as she recounted fuzzy and unclear fragments of the past, "We made that place home, studied it, tried to pry its secrets from the walls. The drive to learn, to discover its purpose, was maddening. The custodian lived in those walls, it was the Shrine, and the Shrine was it. We... became host to it... the relationship seemed symbiotic, but perhaps more parasitic in hindsight. It used us, made us more than human, changed our code, the structure of our cells, to further its search. It had gone mad, and drove us to madness with it, afraid to go alone but only staying with us long enough to leave. It sought the creators."
Caliban shifted in his seat, "What creators?"
"In our tongue, the Daam K'vosh. An ancient empire that spanned Sirius and more, an empire more vast than anything humanity has achieved. The K'hara - the nomads - were created by them; and in a way, so were we. They left Sirius for the K'hara to inhabit, to grow, until humanity arrived and interrupted that growth." Miranda looked saddened, and Caliban could see in her eyes the pain of an entire race, a burden that almost seemed to physically diminish her, if but for a moment.
"So this custodian, it possessed you until it could leave? leave to where?"
"That is what we still seek. Our memory was... impaired... by the presence of the custodian. We remember little from that time, and even the mindshare has failed to reveal much. All we know is that it sought something left behind by the creators, perhaps a ship, or perhaps another vault or structure such as Valhalla or the Shrine. We have been pursuing it from the time it left us, following the path; the K'hara support us because our success is theirs, whatever we discover will surely benefit them as well. Come..."
Miranda beckoned him to follow as she walked through the winding halls of Altair. The station was built like a maze, every corridor and doorway looked the same to Caliban, yet Miranda seemed as if she could navigate the structure effortlessly, without hesitation. They eventually came to an intimidating-looking doorway, reinforced and impenetrable, with a glowing crystal ball at its center. Miranda reached out toward the sphere, and Caliban watched in amazement as tiny tendrils of light pierced the skin of her hands, wriggling out to intertwine with the surface of the orb. A pulse of light seemed to travel from within her, through the tendrils, and into the doorway, signaling it to open.
They stepped through the precipice into a round room, pedestals lining the walls. Each held a small artifact - objects comprised of a purple crystalline lattice and bronze-gold alloy - of varying shapes and sizes; no two were alike. Some of the artifacts glowed, emitting an unearthly light from within the translucent crystal, and some seemed to be distorted; surrounded by an energy field that confused the eyes. Caliban struggled to take it all in, "What are these?"
Miranda slowly walked around the room, running her fingers over some of the relics; they seemed to respond to her touch, as if they were alive, glowing brighter or emitting sound when touched. "These are the keys we have been seeking since the Custodian was joined to us. Each one is a fragment of the whole, one piece of a puzzle, and also a clue to the next. There are more, though we know not how many; we are certain, however, that they will lead us to whatever it is the Creators left behind."
Caliban refrained from touching any of the objects out of respect - or perhaps fear - but inspected several more closely, "So they're a map, of sorts?"
Miranda nodded, picking up one of the artifacts. As she held it high, it projected a holographic image into the high arched ceiling of the room. Glowing dots, presumably representing stars, were connected by winding and intertwining pathways, creating a web-like appearance. It was obvious to Caliban that the map was incomplete, the edges were frayed and it only displayed a small number of stars or systems. "Some are maps, like this one, others serve different purposes." She set down the map-projector artifact and moved to another pedestal, picking up another, cylindrical object. "This one, for example, manipulates gravity."
Holding the relic in front of her, Miranda walked forward, transitioning from the floor to walking vertically up the wall, and finally upside down on the ceiling. It was an eerie sight, but something similar could be done with artificial gravity plating in most ships. She walked back down the opposing wall and returned the artifact to its pedestal, "We havent yet found the purpose for that piece, but we know it will play into the solution. Each of these keys we have found, each one calls out to us, like the Shrine once did; we can hear them from the far reaches of space, and we hear others ringing out from across Sirius even now. Sometimes, the call is quiet, other times it becomes louder, a symphony of tones. We must find the others, bring them here, assemble the puzzle, it is the only way forward. Their call can be aimless, though; they are exceptionally difficult to track down without a focus, an antenna to drown out the noise and focus on one at a time. The custodian knew how to do this, but on our own it is more difficult."
She motioned for him to follow her out of the vault, and it closed behind them, "The Ascendant, the vessel we once flew, underwent extreme modifications to act as such a focus. Many other artifacts were used, forged into the hull and systems, to create an array that could track the keys. We had hoped the Aoi could do something similar with the drones here, but they were unsuitable for the modifications."
Caliban hurried to catch up, matching her pace, "What about my ship? If you need it, it's yours, I've already seen to maintenance and repairs, as well as upgraded the engine and weapon systems with what I could find here."
Miranda shook her head, "The modifications made to the Ascendant were very complex, they took space to function properly, your ship may be useful in other regards but it is too small to suite our needs. We do appreciate the offer, though, and your eagerness to serve. For now, we must return to the mindshare, we will seek other opportunities, we require only that you be ready to serve at a moment's notice."
Caliban bowed as Miranda headed back to her chambers, "Of course, mistress." After her departure he returned to the window to admire the view once more, to reflect and gain introspection on his new purpose.
Miranda swam through the stars, her mind occupying a Rabisu form, fast and deadly, a purpose-built predator. Its deadliness was of little concern to her, despite so much time working with the K'hara and literally becoming linked to them, her purpose had never been one of hostility, she longed to bring Humanity and K'hara together, to unify those who were worthy of such elevation. It was on these principles that she had founded the Oracles, and used the siren song of the shrine to draw in would-be followers for their chance at ascension.
Her frustrations in finding a vessel for her human body had only grown. Nothing would suit her, there was no human-built vessel that could contain her or fulfill her needs. Similarly, the K'hara forms often lacked the delicacy necessary for her interactions. Her hybrid, clone body was even beginning to deteriorate as the light of her soul burned it from within, eager to expand and evolve further. Something was changing, another step in ascendancy, and she could not hold it back.
A sudden flash of pain echoed in her mind. Her vision darkened, and flashes of her old home - the Shrine - overtook her thoughts. The structure was darkening, as if overcome with disease, pestilence. A shadow coalesced into humanoid silhouette, barging into the holy site with disregard for its sanctity. It pillaged, plundered, took the gifts of the creators. Heresy.
The pain subsided, the vision faded, and she was left alone once more in open spaces, swimming along on the power of the stars. Something had happened, the Oracles would have to be contacted.
Shedding the Rabisu skin, she was yanked back to Altair, to her crumbling human form. Soon, she would shed it, and become something new.
Caliban hit the door buzzer to Miranda's study on Altair, and stood patiently, arms clasped behind his back, for the door to open. A slightly nauseating distortion wave passed through the door from inside, and it slid open of its own volition; the result of Miranda interfacing telepathically with Altair. Entering the room, Caliban saw her standing, staring at a mirror on the far wall.
Her eyes were alight, as if stars burned behind them. Wisps of purple vapor, like steam, exuded from them. Her skin was covered in microfractures, little cracks running along the surface like she was made of old, crumbling stone. From within the cracks, the tiniest hints of purple-white light pierced through, where her body was too thin to contain it. She looked both frail and powerful all at once, the physical form deteriorating and withering away while something greater tried to escape its confines.
"Miranda... are you ok...?" Caliban asked tentatively.
She turned away from the mirror to look at him, her face looked as if it was peeling away, "We are ascending again. Dying and being reborn at the same time. Pain and ecstasy intertwined." She looked distant for a moment, her eyes appearing to glaze over as if she was seeing something out of focus beyond him, "The connection grows, we become more like the others."
She slowly made her way over to a meditation altar at the corner of the room, sitting on it and recollecting herself, "We have failed. We failed to find a vessel that could contain this, thus we failed to continue our journey towards the creators. Now, this is the only way forward. We will become something new, something suitable to our needs, and these synthetic bodies will be left behind to crumble into dust. We no longer require them."
He looked uneasy about her condition, "So you're dying and not dying... that's maddeningly confusing."
"It is evolution. We are a new aspect, never before us has there been a pure hybrid between humanity and K'hara, many attempts were tried and failed, Taurvi was the first to succeed, but was imperfect. Our state was only achieved with the interference of the Shrine and the events that followed. We have gradually been converting, slowly losing our humanity and rejecting these clone forms to become something new. Even the others are unsure of what will happen."
"And what is to become of me, when this change happens?"
"You will remain our emissary. We will not speak in this manner again, but we share a bond, you will know when I call for you."
Suddenly Miranda's back arched, she let out an ear-piercing scream as her 'soul', at long last, rejected the clone body fully. Excruciating pain ripped through her as her corpse tore open, flesh ripping like paper and bones cracking apart like twigs. The sight was absolutely gruesome, and Caliban stared on in horror as the woman he was just talking to was reduced to a pile of sundered limbs, flesh, organs, and blood, all of it charred from the inside out as if it had been left to cook for too long.
As the flesh fell to the floor, a still light remained, hovering above the entrails; a ball of solar energy like a miniature star. Gradually, the ball of light seemed to shift and unfold. One at a time, long strands of wispy light sprouted from it - five in total - unfolding to look like angelic wings that wrapped around the length and width of the room, leaving Caliban standing amidst rings of light. His expression was none less than pure amazement and wonder; a painful, gruesome death had just as quickly led to the birth of something beyond description. His mind was incapable of comprehending what he was bearing witness to.
A voice, quite similar to Miranda's but resonating and reverberating in multiple tones, echoed within his mind: ***We are free***
Moments later, the form phased through the wall of the structure, and looking out the viewport he could see it spreading its 'wings' and flying through the void like an illuminated hawk. "Goodbye, Miranda..."