A Few Minor Cycles Later, Ruktan Class Frigate, Interrogation Room 1.

I took stock of my surroundings. The first thing I can see was the familiar environment of an interrogation room. I look down to witness my hands bound to the table. This time, likely with sturdier restraints, I shuffle to an upright position only to take in a new visage. In front of me seated in the opposite chair is an altogether familiar Wokan. It only took me a moment to speak his name out loud. "Randax I presume?" The abrupt words seemed to spark a reaction in the man, he tilts his head, likely a gesture of curiosity or affirmation.

Gazing upon him I notice ever so slightly a smile beginning to take shape. His mouth opens, and a calm and collected voice emerges in perfect Shahnese. "Excellent, no need for awkward introductions. We both seem to be aware of each other." His pitch is monotone, no sense of emotion can be heard, and he continues speaking. "It is a pleasure to meet you, I will admit I am thrilled to encounter such a unique specimen such as yourself." He places his hands gently upon the table not too close to me, but only a short distance from my own grasp.

I decided to play along with this game and respond in kind. "It is a pleasure to make you acquaintance as well, I will admit. I have never met a God in the flesh before." I decided to exaggerate the term God, regardless of whether he understood the gesture or not. The act felt petty, perhaps all this time has allowed me to develop a personality.

Suddenly a loud bout of laughter resounds from the previously monotone Wokan. Quite the shift, I am indeed encountering some strange beings as of late. After his laughter dies down, he settles his trembling body into complete stillness, before speaking. "There is no need to spout such drivel, you and I are neither inept nor primitive. So, calling me a God is just insulting my intelligence and yours." Honestly, I didn't expect he would just come out with that. I thought he would continue with the divine charade. What I wouldn't give to record his words and play them on a loop for the planet to hear, would save me so much future trouble.

With his words spoken I reply in kind. "So, you admit you are not divine in nature?" I know the answer to that question since I am quite certain he is not a God. Still, I'm curious why such a person would readily admit to the contrary, what he had been pushing on an entire species.

He smiled again, chuckling softly before bobbing his head a few times and replying. "Well, to a bunch of savages I might as well be, but between you and I, I think you know that answer." He creaks his neck before continuing, not allowing me to respond. "Now with that out of the way, we can get to the fact of the matter." He turns to his side and withdraws a small datapad from his side pocket. Placing it on the desk and activating the device.

He investigates the information displayed. His eyes rise to mine a few moments later, grinning slightly, he speaks. "Now this is quite intriguing; I initially had no expectations for this expedition to the unknown regions of space." He pauses for a time, looking down before rising again. "The discovery of a planet of sentient primitives was quite the find. Albeit not the first time such a planet was discovered by the Shah." He turns the datapad around and then pushes the screen forward, allowing me a good look. "That there is a list of all the species the Shah Empire has ever discovered and catalogued. Each neatly listed along with their associated technology and civilisation classification." Placing his index finger on the screen and tapping it thrice he directs me to inspect.

I peruse the list with keen interest, some of the names are familiar. Wokan, Demthesian and Pintonian. A few unfamiliar ones grace the list such as Nagyari, Filusion and Bovanin. Likely they are species the Shah have encountered, besides the three the Filusion and Bovanin are classified as surface age civilisations with the Nagyari as space age. Thankful for the new information, I can't help but wonder what the point of this is, so I simply ask. "Is there a particular reason you are providing this information?" I am not certain he will answer me, since for all intents and purposes this is an interrogation of a prisoner.

The Wokan smiles, not a jovial nor a happy smile, some sort of thrilling glee I suspect. I decided to await his response, and low and behold he replies. "I thought it was obvious, well I suppose I should explain." He grumbles softly, perhaps he is annoyed. "That list does not contain any mention of a species matching yours. I will admit you look similar to a Demthesian, but you are certainly not a member of the legion." His voice deepens towards the end of that statement, a slight waver in his tone. "From what information I have gathered, you seem to hail from at least a developed civilisation surface or space-age is unknown." There again with those rigid terms, defining a species based on whether they remain on their planet or can effectively leave it.

I can't really claim to be the most knowledgeable about galactic society. Still, those arbitrary terms seem to limit me, I'm getting off track, it's time to respond. "I suppose there is no denying it, I am a Korvenin and I am not affiliated with your Empire." Stern honesty seems to be the best approach, in this case, still best to be vague. I lean back against the chair and fold my arms, a simplistic yet effective posture. I am not trying to be hostile, just unyielding as I continue speaking. "My people belong to the Samsiran Empire and from what I have observed, you yourself have broken several of our laws." I tilted my head to the side and glared back at him intensely, merely a ploy.

Raucous laughter proceeded to fill the room, clearly, he was amused, barely containing himself. The episode lasts for some time before lessening to a mere chuckle. His gaze now cast firmly on me with a wide beaming smile, before speaking. "Broken laws you say, I have broken many laws from many so-called Empires." His chuckles began to return, he hunches over to adjust his seating position. Now leaning forward, he continues speaking. "Tell me Korvenin, what laws have I broken?" The words are dripping with sarcasm, he clearly doesn't take this seriously. Not unexpected since the Samsiran Empire has no current government beyond, I suppose me.

Deciding to play along, I began listing his various crimes. "Slavery, invading the lands of a less developed society and I suppose the Church of Meraxis would label you a heretic and false God as well." That last part wasn't exactly a crime as per the imperial charter. It only really applied to the strange religious doctrine of the Meraxisian, truly odd fellows. Of course, as completely expected raucous laughter began anew. Quite a jovial fellow this one, If I was unaware of his past transgressions, he would be pleasant company.

I glanced at him and notice he is holding his chest with his upper arms, perhaps to steady himself. He shakes his head a few times and is now glaring at me with that truly wide grin of his. He makes another shake of his head and speaks up. "A heretic am I. You're only a heretic if you leave alive those who accuse you of heresy, otherwise your faith is the faith." He emphasised the word the at the end, oddly viewing what he is doing as a matter of faith. Truly an odd creature before me, truly indeed.

His gaze lowers as a small smirk crosses his face. His three eyes are abuzz with activity, which could be a response to excessive thought. This state remains for a time before he glares back at me, rolling his forked tongue. Well, that was something I hadn't noticed before, then again, I hadn't been looking. His voice resounds once more. "You are truly an odd creature speaking of slavery and heresy. When neither of these can be considered a crime." What's truly odd is that such an odd being viewed me as odd as well.

He grumbles a bit before continuing his little speech, I didn’t interrupt him as I am curious. "Such narrow-minded concepts your people have, slavery, heresy and false God's." The strange fellow crosses his upper arms, almost mirroring me before continuing. "I understand, harsh measures will always be criticized when employed, it is the nature of it." He shrugs, unaffected by the admonishment of his slavery of an entire populace.

Now even more curious about the man before me, I decided to speak. "So, you don't see the criminal implications of your actions?" It seemed to be an unnecessary query. He had likely already thought of this before and committed the action regardless, of whether he is insane. I don't think the creature is mad, but then again, I am not the best judge of character in that regard.

Tilting his head, Randax expresses a contemplative expression before nodding to himself and speaking. "Law is only valid if there a those to enforce it, for instance, the Shah engage in slavery on a mass scale, to them that is the law." Honestly, I can't refute that since despite my reservations on the subject, there would likely be civilisations out there that view the practice as legal. Regardless of this, I still feel it is better to oppose it rather than ignore it or participate.

The facts he puts forth are intriguing yet I would prefer to steer the conversation elsewhere. "You do have a point there, but what's most intriguing is how a Demthesian is working with a Wokan?" I phrased my words into a poignant question, truly curious at the answer.

He smiles again, yet the smile seems much more sombre than his prior jovial expression. His eyes are now downcast, he lingers there for a time, rising to meet my gaze. Chuckling softly, he glares at me and opens his mouth to speak in a calm tone. "Quite odd isn't that, I a slave to the Legion would work with a Demthesian. But then again, life can breed strange alliances." Indeed, the times have been odd, that is something I freely admit.

Curiosity peaked I decided to probe further, in all honesty, it's better for me to know than remain ignorant. "So how did you two meet, that must be quite a story?" Smiling to myself I try to speak with a calm tone of voice, conveying honest intrigue. Though he likely sees this as a simple probe for information, in the background. I gauge his reaction as that smile of his lessens. His right upper hand reaches behind his neck. Glaring at the strange action I witness a cylindrical object rise from behind and rest in his palm. The sound of a locking mechanism opening can be heard, just as a glowing blade rises into the air. Suddenly Randax thrusts the blade forward. The glowing hot blade streaked through the air, right to my neck. The blade hovers next to my flesh, I can feel the heat emanating from it, honestly, it is quite pleasant.

His gaze widens or enlarges, I'm not sure really, but I think he is surprised at my null reaction. Time passes and his jovial smile makes a reappearance right before his melodic tone of voice. "What do you think of this blade, my little, red friend?" Leaning forward slightly, levelling the blade to my neck, Randax glares at me with anticipation. I would have commented on the quip, about me being little. It is an oddity since I am taller than him. Instead, I relax and take a small glance at the sword at my neck.

Gazing at the glowing blade I can get a better look at it. It is clearly of superior make. Better than what a primitive medieval society can manufacture. The handle though appears to be wood; it has a metallic sheen about it. The rest of the blade is glowing with a thin layer of plasma surrounding its edges. This blade would likely be able to slice through anything it encounters. I remain still before glancing back. Randax grunted softly before speaking. "Want do you think of this blade, alien?" A query about a glowing sword abruptly halted at my neck. Curious question to ask, I examined his visage and notice true sincerity. He legitimately wants my opinion.

Still remaining stock still, I glance down at the glowing blade crackling with plasma. Observing the weapon for a short while, I return to him and reply. "It is a rather gaudy weapon, impractical to say the least." I speak softly and confidently as I give my honest opinion. The weapon is indeed gaudy and audacious, likely used for ceremonial purposes.

Randax smirks at my response, with a slight rising of his lips. He then withdraws the blade, causing the glow to fizzle out upon retraction. Casting his gaze on the weapon he begins speaking in a melancholy tone. "You are correct, a gaudy weapon indeed. Yet the history behind it is long and fascinating." His gaze flickers to me as if expecting a response.

I decided to humour the alien and query about this supposed fascinating historical significance. "History you say... Please elaborate." Asking my question, he immediately shows a reaction. I suspected he did not anticipate my prompt response. I observe him for a time, his gaze trails off to the side, gazing at some point on the wall. I recognised it as a contemplative glare and patiently wait for the event to subside.

He returns the gaze, grunts softly and begins spinning his tale. "This blade is one of the nine Xarosian blades of old Demthesia." Glaring down at the weapon he waves the blade slightly from side to side, before continuing. "They were forged on the planet of Xaros, the first colonised world of the Legion." He pauses for a moment as if to collect himself and begins again. "At that time, they were their own society, united under their blood-soaked monarch, I forget his name." He tags on that last part, not exactly a great historian but he does know the highlights. He continues his speech now with some vigour. "Uniting a culture isn't easy but that madman did it, even brought his people to space. In commemoration of his many victories, he fashioned nine swords, supposedly blades taken from the nine duels he claimed victory in." His tone reveals a sense of disbelief, yet he is clearly motivated to continue.

He tweaks his neck to the side, waves the blade again as if fidgeting and continues speaking. "These blades were fashioned with the latest plasma technology on the planet Xaros. The blades were then handed down to his trusted vassals, four blades went to the four houses that supported his reign and five went to the five Admirals of the first legionary fleets." After speaking he places the blade across the table and begins again. "This blade in fact had been passed down through a prestigious military family from Admiral to Admiral." This explanation gives credence to perhaps a culture of nepotism amongst the Demthesians, not unfamiliar.

Sharpening my gaze upon him, I consider his comment. "So, you are saying that this weapon has ceremonial significance to Demthesian's?" Asking the question out of genuine curiosity, I await a response semi-eagerly. His eyes flicker from the blade and then back to me.

A few moments run by before his words come forth. "Significance huh, I suppose once upon a time it did." He pauses for a moment and stares off into the distance, in contemplation. "But that age is long past, they exist more as a novelty or a symbol of fake glory. The high society of Demthesia pass around between each other." His tone is softer, his shoulders seem tense as if his statement is difficult to divulge. Quickly he reclaims himself before continuing, I await his words eagerly. "So, yes indeed they have some significance but are now of little importance to the Legion as a whole, beyond decoration." A short smile crosses his face, his eyes flutter, and perhaps a memory has surfaced. His species is an oddity like most of the beings I have met, yet there is some overlap in mannerisms and function.

My curiosity stoked; I decided to query further. Before I can get a word out, the interrogation door opens' making way for a well-dressed Garudan to enter. The typical greenish skin was the most obvious trait. Yet her stature was shorter than most female Garudans I had encountered. Instead of towering over myself and Wokan alike, this one was short, not even reaching my shoulders. I observe her fine ornate robes, coloured pale white, an odd contrast to the greenish skin. She arrives at our table with a tray of two smoking beverages, places them meekly and turns to Randax. "Your divine eminence I have brought the refreshments as you requested." Her meek and demure voice was barely audible, yet the sheer fear or perhaps reverence can be heard.

Randax reaches his hand out, caressing the young Garudan's hair, roughing it slightly, almost tenderly. Truly an odd scene, after a while, the Garudan woman bows low and exits the room. Sort of dumbstruck I look at Randax quizzically, he notices and replies almost instantly. "Ah, you thought that I like Zekton would rule by fear." His expression seems almost bemused, perhaps I offended him, though I seriously doubt that. "Fear is for the enemy and a little compassion towards servants goes a long way." Tilting his head to the side, that smile comes back, sharper than ever.

I decided to mirror his actions and tilt my head also. "I agree with that statement, though your perception of enemies seems warped to me." Letting that statement hang for a moment, I reach over and take a sip from the beverage. Delighted, upon realising it is coffee, I take a further sip, savouring the bitter warmth it brings.

I hear him chuckle ever softly before taking a sip of his own beverage. Letting out a short grunt he places it down and replies to my comment. "Are you referring to the enslavement of the southern tribes?" I nod immediately to his query, before taking another sip and waiting for his reply. "Quite a nasty business slavery and religion, but distasteful tools are rarely left to lie for long." Gesturing with his upper arms he turns his palms to face me. "Why let these tools lie unused, when everyone else is eager to pick them up?" Withdrawing the blade from his sheath he raises it as if the weapon was a symbol.

Pondering his words, I try to see things from his perspective and honestly it seems limited. Yet not entirely an uncommon conclusion, I require more to understand. "That is a dim view of our reality, I do not believe everyone would employ such tools." I say this considering the fact of my awareness of slavery and the religious zealotry of my homeworld. Of course, my entire homeworld did not participate in these acts, yet they destroyed themselves in the end.

He nods his head, in an almost Korvenin gesture of acceptance, before speaking. "I agree, but the reality we deal with is a harsh one and harsh realities must be faced with harsh measures." The conviction in his voice is palpable, he is clearly tethered to his view. Competing with his perspective may prove fatal if I explore it any further. Yet I feel a strange urge to challenge him.

Thinking it over for a moment, I cross my arms and counter his words with my own. "To employ such harsh measures, wouldn't that make you no different than the enemies you fight against?" Querying his statement with a question of my own, I request his answer, with genuine curiosity.

A smirk appears on his face, I believe he is sneering in contempt or perhaps amusement. His eyes cease to flutter as a calmness wash over the Wokan before me. His voice oozes forth with very little emotion, tacked onto the end of his words. "I never said I was different to those I oppose. Life has taught me many things, none more important than this." He pauses as if for effect, perhaps he is indeed a theatrical creature or perhaps not. "That it doesn't matter who you are or what you have done. Only who has claimed victory and who falls to defeat." Now I must admit, the conviction in his voice leaves little doubt in the voracity of his statement. I am unlikely to dissuade him from his point of view since I myself see the accuracy.

Regardless I decided to retort as if something at the back of my mind compels me. "The victor does tend to have the better position, to shape the future and of course the past." No truer statement have I ever uttered; my homeworld saw to that grand lesson. With his interest firmly locked to me, I continued. "But one should have some semblance of standards or limits less they create more of the same and less of the new." Honestly, I am not sure where that came from, creativity seems to be a new skill I have learned along the way.