Ah, I could hear that, the shoe dropping from the other hand. Crinkle, crinkle, shatter, shatter. The Elvar were one of the few races that had dealings with the Ruk, even in their isolation, as the Ruk couldn’t hide from them, and they didn’t really have opposed views on things. The Elvar might have gloated while they were down, and thought they were going to inherit the stars... but the Apotheosis of Amourae had made their rising light a short-lived flash, indeed, by the measure of both races.

And a Ruk King stepping off my ship, that was something.

His face was like a rock, but King Rargyle could read their consternation as easily as I, and was chuckling inside.

Of course, there were now massive protocol breaches involved. The turnout for my arrival was mostly curious Elvar wondering what a formidable human looked like in person, especially a nymphal known to resemble themselves. The honor guards here were probably from Sunhawk’s own crew, and they definitely weren’t considering it anything of an honor to stand for a mere human noble.

“Ah, Your Majesty!” The Elvar envoy was momentarily tongue-tied as he looked down at the Ruk in his gorgeous and very powerful armor. He glanced up in the skies to assure himself that there wasn’t a Citadel or ten looming in the skies. He switched to Ruk smoothly. “We... were not told of your coming, Your Majesty! This is a rare honor...”

To the tune of at least ten thousand years, by Ruk records.

“Contessa Sama invited the Ruk here to listen. I am here.” His words were abrupt and to the point, and the hackles of the Elvar all rose.

He wasn’t here to speak, he had been invited merely to listen... and he had come. Exactly how much pull did I have?

And why were the Ruk involved in this at all?

Suddenly, this had become an Event. The psychic ripples were flying through the Starhome, and suddenly those gaffing this event or poo-pooing it or sneering in disdain at it all suddenly wanted to attend, and attend very, very badly.

“Captain Sunhawk, if you could escort us?” I asked calmly, giving the honor to the one who deserved it.

Seizing the moment with the flair of someone always expecting the dramatic, the golden-haired, golden-eyed, and flamboyantly dressed corsair bowed with a grand flourish, swirling cape and everything, “Your Grace, Your Majesty, it would be my distinct pleasure!”

His Notoriety Score just got bumped a couple notches as he stepped in beside us.

King Rargyle stayed half a step back. This was not a contest of status for him. He already knew his status was higher in the eyes of the Elvar. He was here to listen. His whole attitude conveyed the fact that he wasn’t here to say anything; he was here to watch and see what was going to go down, and bring that news back to the Ruk. The Elvar who wanted to cluster in on an actual Ruk being here instead kept a very discreet distance, and turned their eyes on me.

Captain Sunhawk seized the moment for everything. With complete panache, he gave us a fine spiel of the history of the Starhome, the glorious monuments and buildings, the statues and art on display, breathtaking in its subtlety, grandeur... and in places, for the scars of combat left upon them.

King Rargyle inspected them all stolidly, the elves in flitters and on hoverplatforms and jetbikes and whatnot somehow all managing to slow down along our skyroute as the whole platform with us and the honor guards rose smoothly into the air and headed off towards our destination, generating only the faintest refreshing breeze.

The Envoy of the Starhome could only stand behind, sending out a whole lot of very urgent diplomatic renditions of whatever greeting ceremony was going on, and acknowledging that suddenly a whole lot of powerful Elvar were racing to get to the greeting hall ahead of us. I gave Sunhawk my attention as I listened with half an ear to all the telepathy going on around me, very amused despite myself.

At last he broke his history lesson with a sly smile at me. “An immense diplomatic coup, Contessa. Your Duke does indeed have some pull.”

I smiled slightly. “The Corunsun name has spread to some unusual places, Captain.”

“So it has.” His eyes were dancing with the irony. “I confess that my anticipation of your speech is greatly enhanced. Bringing in the Ruk was a masterful move, giving instant validity to your words. Those Starhomes who only sent token ambassadors are going to be quite crestfallen.”

“You don’t have any personal dealings with the Ruk, but you should know their reputation for straight dealing.” Which is why he didn’t have any dealings with them, naturally. “They are not here to listen to my words. I informed them of the contents some time past. They are here to watch the Elvar, not me.”

Sunhawk’s golden eyes glanced at King Rargyle, who was still looking about with his normal stolid face, unreadable save for the impression from his gleaming, steely beard that he wasn’t to be talked to. “This matter is of graver import than many have thought possible, then.”

“King Rargyle would not have even given me a glance if I was to discuss something as dross as trade terms, cultural exchanges, or alliances.” I rolled my eyes despite myself. “What would the Ruk care about a minor power like me negotiating things like that? Just knowing I was doing it would be enough, there is no reason to attend. Either I would succeed, or I would fail. It would mean nothing to the Ruk.”

“Ah.” The corsair’s smile was forced, as he was getting the impression that matters were moving above and beyond him, never a good thing for a pirate’s ego. Such things I had mentioned as minor points were generally landmark occurrences for two races, both because of their rarity and the objection of xenophobic people and warhawks on both sides.

He was right in the middle of something very big indeed, and it had all started with a deal for Void Osmium...

“So, you aren’t here to discuss trade terms at all?” he hinted broadly.

I lifted an eyebrow. “Not to the Elvar as a whole, no. If individuals want to do some honest business... or some exciting business... there’s always room for that. And if you like, I’m sure King Rargyle will serve as a Witness. I understand it was an ancient honor accorded them by many species.”

His expression was most amusing. A trade agreement Witnessed by a Ruk was a tantalizing thing that would be a massive coup, and yet remove so much fun from the actual execution of it. That the Ruk would even agree to be a Witness for me involved momentous amounts of rep. He simply had no way of understanding where I’d gotten such powerful backing from.

I wasn’t about to tell him, either.

We were moving through the sky faster than the speed of sound now, but there was no sensation of movement on the platform. A technology showoff, superb control of motion tech. I was already mapping out the circuits in the platform and posting them to Markspace for dissection...

The Elvar needed more living room than the Ruk. Living in close proximity like the Ruk did would have driven the more emotional and free-wheeling, psychically empowered race batty. Thus, this Starhome, this massive island in space, was filled with sprawling forests, great gardens, hills, prairies, rivers, streams, hills, and even small mountains, with floating subrealms hovering above and outside others, creating more living areas for elites, noble houses, and special organizations to do their things.

They’d made a sylvan homeland in space, complete with all the colorful vegetation and animal life that could be used to soothe their peace of mind.

It had definitely made for an interesting battlefield, more than once.

For all that, the mindscape had an odd kind of serenity to it. There were psychic murmurs flying past me all the time, and for all their indulgence in style and color and the fashionista mindset that went with it, there was an asceticism about them of discipline and denial, an attempt to ameliorate their own sensual nature and desire to immerse themselves into the wonders of the world, push their limits, and explore what the universe had to give them.

Without discipline, they started to go dark. Sunhawk’s greying skin indicated he was already embarking on that path, much as he might try to deny it. He was probably telling himself that he was sacrificing himself for his people, the old lie that lured in so many to the same fate he was heading towards. Restraints and discipline would keep looking stupider and stupider to him, until his viewpoint matched that of the drow and he fell to darkness, and anything he wanted to do was perfectly valid simply because he wanted to do it.

Most of the Elvar around me had varying amounts of advancement on the road to the dark, showing grey or green, and rarely blue, at the edges of their pale complexions. Those who were starting to blue at the tips of ears and edges of sight were also starting to flush slightly, redden slightly down the road towards lethal crimson. Those going green were also starting to tan, moving towards the bronze and brown that would rot into arrogant, spoiled purple.

The grey was like an ever-stretching shadow on skin and soul, each shade darker one more step on a black road of damnation.

Reclaiming ground was nigh impossible. After all, we just got more jaded and practical, lazier and all-knowing as we got older, right?

But no, that wasn’t true.

Colby’s Curseline was still predominant among our relations with the hyn, although she had branched off to a whole lot of other worlds that could use some undersized terrors scampering around killing things in the dark. The Shire had now been around for over a generation, time and years flitting past like shooting stars.

The hyn of the Shire had grown up in a very different environment than their parents had, with the Markspace there, and their whole society had transformed as a result.

Tellingly, they got on swimmingly with the Elvar who also dwelled on the Shire. These were wild Elvar, leaving the corruption of the stars beyond and returning to their roots to stay clean, and having next to nothing to deal with the stars.

Some had been Marked by the Void Brothers among the hyn, a singular mark of trust by the smaller race. That Markspace was only opened slowly, but as it did, the effect on the native Elvar had been remarkable.

Their colors had slowly faded, withdrawing as their spirits moved back towards the Light.

It was said that elves in a magical world evolved to match their environment. In a grimdark universe, that was a horrible fate awaiting their sci-fi counterparts.

But a grimbright universe, well, that was something entirely different, wasn’t it?

The Markspace was overwhelmingly populated by Good people, and even the stodgy, conservative, unbending Ruk who joined were slowly moving towards the silver. The universe was a harsh, mean, nasty place, and sometimes you had to bite the bullet and do what had to be done... but that didn’t mean the universe was meant to be that way.

It could be better. Perhaps not peace, but understanding, accord, the ability to see past the racial limitations the Warp amplified and which caused so many problems, to higher causes and beliefs that were true regardless of species.

The Elvar were meant to be children of the Light. There was a way home for them... but they could not do it alone.

That was why I had come here, and that was the message I had to bring. The Ruk were here to see how the Elvar reacted... and to back the truth of what I was saying. If the Elvar rejected hope, the Ruk were there to bear Witness to their true Fall...