The Martial Unity

What followed was a series of questions from Ria about the surveyor.

”How long will it take you to make?” She asked curiously.

”A year, but I’ll reserve a slot in the manifold for it,” the man replied.

”What if it gets detected?”

”I’ll make it a stealth surveyor.”

”What if it gets attacked?”

”I’ll have dwarves craft the ship’s structure, hull, and armor plating. And I’ll have it crafted from an invintium alloy.”

”Since we’ll be outside human civilization, it will need to be self-sustaining.”

”I’ll throw in a proprietary dark energy system.”

”How fast can it travel? We’ll have to travel massive distances.”

”I’ll throw in a premium high-end superluminal warp drive.”

By the time she listed her specifications, they happened upon a light, planetary dark energy-powered stealth surveyor spaceship with a double premium high-grade superluminal warp-drive system.

It was an extremely extravagant ship, one that was approaching the absolute limit of what human civilization could possibly produce for the needs and specifications that Ria had conceived of.

Of course, what she was concerned about most was the primary purpose of the surveyor ship.

”You’re sure this ship can replicate the functions of the quantum entropy satellite, right?” She asked with a concerned tone. ”Since it is much smaller than the satellite you showed me.”

Stealth became exponentially more intensive as a feature, the larger the ship was. At the size of the satellite that the Esoterist had shown her, it was simply too difficult to guarantee that a ship would remain highly undetectable.

They had both decided to err on the side of caution and go for a light spaceship, the equivalent of a frigate. The kind of sensory apparatus that would be required to detect such a ship would be detectable before the ship entered the star system, allowing them to ensure that they didn’t take excessive risks.

The experience of Planet Amadeus III was ultimately what led Ria to choose erring on the side of caution, even if a bigger ship was more powerful and could do more. A lot of infected worlds would undoubtedly harbor homoarachnoids, without a question.

”Yes,” the Esoterist answered with a confident tone, reassuring her. ”It will take longer than the satellite, and it will require completing an orbital surveillance routine, but it can get the job done.”

She nodded, heaving a tired breath. ”I have a lot to think about before we proceed any further, and I have to consult my teammates before I confirm anything specific.”

The meeting with the Esoterist ended there. The man rushed off, muttering something about harvesting esoteric matter before his rivals got to it.

It left her alone in the lab with the Psyker, who simply put aside his brain hologram, smiling at her. ”I’m impressed. Most people do not manage to earn Azazel’s respect. And most people certainly do not manage to speak with him on equal footing. He does not respect anything other than merit, I assure you, so you can rest assured that you have earned it, rather than received it by virtue of your status as the Kandrian Princess.”

She heaved a deep breath, leaning back on the couch she was sitting upon as her body went limp, trying to relax. ”He… truly does keep you on your toes.”

”That, he does,” the Psyker admitted. ”Still. I can vouch that he was being truthful about his words in this meeting. He is sincere about this partnership. But I must say…”

His tone grew more serious as his blood-red eyes bore deep into hers.

”You have accepted quite the undertaking. Both in terms of the burden it will place on you, as well as the risks that come with it.”

She knew what he was referring to, of course. Entering alien manifolds was very dangerous, she understood that. But danger was the bread and butter of a Martial Artist. She had accepted, later on in her life when she was older enough to understand, that she could die at any moment.

Especially in an era where Martial Artists infested the world such that even hundreds or thousands of Martial Masters dying wouldn’t even make a dent. They had grown more disposable, and the risks had not reduced. The cosmos was a dangerous place, and she was arguably visiting some of the most dangerous frontiers it had to offer.

”I’m willing to accept the risks,” she replied with a serious, but quiet voice. ”I can help myself. I can help the world. Besides…”

She shrugged. ”I have nothing else going on in my life, if I’m being completely honest.”

The man raised an eyebrow at those words. ”You are the princess of the Kandrian Empire.”

”I have no intention of becoming Queen,” she remarked with a huff, shaking her head. ”It doesn’t suit me. Not to mention, my father would only retire if he wanted to, since he’s not going anywhere himself. That leaves me very free to do what I want with my life.”

She had human civilization at her fingertips, of course. She had chosen the frontier because the further away she was from Gaia Prime, the less her identity as the royal princess would impede her.

”And once I’m outside human civilization, my identity as a princess will simply not matter. I can do good for myself by sabotaging the virus. By learning more about it. By learning more about myself. I can do good for human civilization by strengthening it with esoteric matter. It’s a win-win-win.”

The Pskyer had a more sober perspective to offer. ”Your relationship with the universe puts you at even more risk than you would otherwise sustain, which is already quite a lot. I haven’t heard all the details, but from what I have heard…”

He directed a pointed look at her.

”Your relationship with the universe was divulged to the homoarachnoids you encountered, right?”

Her expression tightened at those words.

He was right. The homoarachnoids realized that there was something special about her and mounted a very persistent and intense campaign to capture her. And they almost succeeded. They certainly would have captured her and carted her off if not for her father’s rescue of her.