Mathers of Life and

Dra Cristiana Montgomery Shanti was the name in her framed certificates on the wall behind her, but she prefers to be called Dra Ana. Citizen of Europa, the natural satellite of Planet Jupiter not the continent, she was born and grew up in a natural satellite in the best neighbour of the Solar System. Conquered a place in Pelican despite her young age thanks in part to the prestigious name, and considerable financial empire, of her father. However, once here, ascend to the position of senior engineer was purely by merit.

Now she was the solitary authority in all matters related to health of Pelican City. That part was achieved by not dying in the fall of the space-ship. About every single college in the same level of her or higher in status had extensive cyborg implants integrated in their brain and neuronal system. She was, minimalistic in that aspect, limiting the implants to basic replacement of skeleton, and reinforced muscles. Little change in brain-structure. The cyborg bones, and the lack of cyborg brain structure, in conjunction, saved her live.

She earned, that way, the privilege to deliver the news for the rest of the inner circle of Pelican City politics. Scientist all, military almost half of them.

The lack of people with professional experience in farming and industrial administrations was costing them dearly. However, the problem she had to bring to the others would make that all feel like background noise.

“By the standards of our home universe we are obviously not ‘super-soldiers’. There is a small group of individuals in the city who can qualify as such. Who where in the Pelican as voluntary subjects, for medical research. They all survived the fall, needless to say and to surprise of no one, since their combination of endo and exoskeleton was designed with survival to high impact in mind. Sacrificing, other aspects of life.

However, if we take in consideration the genetic base line of homo sapiens, each one of us is a super-soldier. Even the ones in this city who survived the fall without having cyborg skeletons, who are precious few compered to the percentage of people with the same characteristic in the ship. We all have nano-robots inside our bodies repairing injuries and trying to keep us alive. We all have genetic manipulated to make us biologically immortal, immune to age for potential eternity.

The active cyborg implants are shutting down. Same thing that destroyed our ship’s central computer is burning them. Slowly, but increasingly. Many will just stop working, some will require extraction. We have the adequate instruments and rooms to perform those surgeries. The nano-robots inside us, are slowing down their replication functions.

What it means to us, in the current rate, is that we will start experiencing slower healing and will feel tired more easily during the day. The symptoms will be minimal for the next decade, if nothing changes. However, after that, local diseases and poisonous substances will begin to affect us. Much more drastically.

Still, my prognostic is that our biological immortality in the strict sense, is not in risk. For now, all information we have suggest we will not age like our ancestors (an some of you) used to consider natural. Before genetic medicine.

We will became weaker and more fragile. **** to diseases that now don’t affect us. Levels of radiation considered banal to us now will became fatal to us, half a century from now.

Our plans for generation of energy, and for food production, must take those things under consideration.

However, our most grim prospect has to do with reproduction. The birth of new generations poses to us a moral dilemma that e cannot delay. Pelican City has a large enough population to stablish a genetic pool, likely viable.

However, our capacity to provide standard treatments of genetic medicine, without assistance of AI, is today very limited. About to became, non-existent.

Without those treatments, biologic immortality will become the rare exception in the next generation. A few generations after that, maybe six, human top longevity will be back to five centuries or less, probably less.

Replace the human skeleton for cyborg equivalent is already beyond our capabilities.

That is still not the worse part, Genetic Medicine is a field developed under the laws of our original universe. And to work properly, even up there, it implies the access to standard medical resources. Domestic reproduction is viable, still, but more dangerous than it used to be between homo sapiens before genetic medicine.

If we keep having children, we are sentencing those unborn humans to a high risk of **** by genetic diseases. Easily fixed by our current tools, but impossible to deal, using the tools we should still have available 20 years from now.

Considering that situation, I feel that is my obligation to propose a program. To sterilize the population of Pelican City. All of us, present company included.

If we do that right now, in the future, we can build new generations by cloning. Our clones will be fertile. That, assuming we eventually succeed in restore acceptable technological levels. Compatible with our standards of human dignity.

Not being possible to achieve that, we would be the last and only humans in this universe. And our tragedy would end with our deaths. Someday in the future.

I submit this proposal to this council. Those are my arguments. We must vote.”

Protests emerged, demands of clarifications. The topic was not even on the agenda, how she expected a decision without give them time to analyse the issue. What the Dra suggesting to impose compulsory sterilization openly, or perform the procedure in secret? Which methods ?

Voices raised, in anger. And the reunion was adjourned without additional deliberations.

North to that, in a vast cave system under Mushroom Mountains, a much larger reunion is been prepared.

Sixteen thousand warogs slow down, after two days running through the Smoke Road, the underground artery that connects the largest cave in the South Province to the underground connections that lead to the central regions, where the largest ports of the nation are. Each large beast carries the a orc warrior in full plate armour. The warriors, 2,5 meters high, half ton of muscle under the steal, look almost small on the back of those beasts.

Those are not ordinary orc warriors, or ordinary war wolves. The Stone Fang Tribe is made of bastard children of upala. Both four and two legged warriors, are larger and more intelligent than ordinary members of their respective species. Stronger than orcs and warogs, more intelligent, longer lived.

Among them, their brothers blessed by fortune, have chosen to travel as warogs or as orcs, as pleases them. Thole are not upala Princes, mere shapeshifters of normal blood, but still members of the dominant race. The Stone Fang presence proves the royal bless.

Other tribes would follow. Golden Eyes mounted on grotes, giant bats even larger than warogs, flied through the artery, above the Stone Fangs. Another tribe caring the Royal Shield, and upala heritage.

Those elite warriors among the orcs came answering the call of Zaebar Princess. Niarra. The trusted sister of King Lauberg of Cinnabar Throne.

Was her way to show, beyond any shadow of doubt, her brother’s support to the offended orc tribe. A trading post under Cinnabar Royal Protection was attacked and massacred. The throne could not remain indifferent.

This would not remain between the orcs, or inside the nation. Trading Posts are sacred. No one attacks them, even in wild lawless lands.

All upala kings on Kallos would be taking note of their reactions. Specially the two other upala nations in the continent, would be paying attention. Weakness was not a luxury they could afford.

On the same time, have the Stone and Gold chiefs here provided Niarra the appropriate messengers to deliver her brothers will. So, she would not need to command the orcs directly more often than what she considered convenient. They would deliver her will, in the chief’s council. In their own name.

The orcs, as was to be expected, wanted to move by the first snow of winter. As soon as their forces were ready.

That would be logical, if that was an orc war. Long dark nights of winter favour the orcs, a race able to fight in absolute darkness as well as they fight in daylight.

Princess Niarra had different idea.

If she could make the final decision, they would attack before the end of that autumn.

By captured prisoners, her arcanist mind-reader had obtained enough information. Her personal agents were ready to capture the key leaders among the star-demons who call themselves “humans”. One furtive attack could kill or capture their strategists, at the same time sabotage their defences. Poison their food supply. Speed and furtivity, was the key. They magical defences where so weak that neither her spies nor her own telepathy found signs of resistance.

Before midnight this would be done, important prisoners in her hands, the South Province orcs would have her permission to attack, and satisfy their thirsty for righteous vengeance.

They would slaughter thousands, no doubt. Even with the demons defences diminished by sabotage the elite warrior humans would still kill thousands of orc warriors too. Easily replaceable soldiers. She would send the higher Moon-Elves families to support the attack, after the second wave of orcs. That would provide the prune work the South Province elves so desperately needed.

Then they could retreat, by sunrise.

Let the poisoned food work. Keep disruptive attacks from distance, with magic and mind-controlled beasts. Just to keep the pressure. Repeat the attack at night. Space-demons are not nocturnal by preference. Their organism function better during the day.

Ten days of that, she would have the South Province reorganized nicely. And the demons softened enough for the taking.

Least most their hidden powers, and magic, would be exposed by this point. They are amazingly competent in hiding their arcanists. She was considering that, and ready for surprises. Still, a fast approach would end this situation before the rest of the continent had time to digest the arrival of star-demons.

Unfortunately, her brother was deeply invested in this conflict.

The king wanted to prolong it. Instead of end it faster.

His plan was to surround the demons. Isolate them, and study their ways. Capture small groups, take control over the Metallic Fruit bite by bite. Not dismantle their leadership, bleed their forces slowly. Over centuries of years, possibly even thousands.

The king wanted the demons preserved, captured and tamed. Not slaughtered by the thousands every night.

She had disobeyed his commands before, but never in anything important. This time, he was really investing his attention and will.

And one the same time, his way was too unpractical.

If that was at the centre of the county, one of the islands next to the coast. A hundred kilometres East to the Cinnabar Throne. His way could be affordable. However, this was the South Border. Too Close to the Blood River, and beyond the river, no-man’s land.

The savage orc tribes didn’t worried Princess Niarra much.

Or rather, the axes and cleavers of those savages didn’t worried her. Their tongs worried the Princess, considerably.

All sort of thing walk between those wild tribes and in the caves bellow their feet. Spies from other upala realms are not the most serious reason for concern, even. Albeit, really, she would not ignore them.

From upala perspective her brother had ascended to the throne very recently. His fast and decisive war against the Iron-Elves in the East was a positive start. Still, only a start.

A siege of thousands of years next to their south border was an obvious weakness. She had a list of possible forces that would seek for ways to explore it. And those she didn’t knew about were even more numerous, almost certainly.

Despite that, disobey the king in this matter was not a move she could make.

Convince him, was the only way. Find a compromise he could accept.

Something!

Until she could find that, the orc’s would need to wait. One winter, or one thousand.

That, was another moving piece to take under consideration.

Elves are easy to deal with, because they are easy to predict. Orcs on the contrary, deceivingly simple in surface. However, they never brake exactly where, or when, one expects them to brake.

Tricky vassals! A blunt tool, for sure. In addition to that, hard to manage.

All that would be almost harmless and easy for Niarra. If she didn’t had to deal with one more layer, in the same image.

Her family.

The two Princes had been only the beginning.

Before the end of that week she would have two of her sisters to administrate. Along with five other Princes. And nine sisters of those boys. Ho, sure! She could command this people. Give them missions, not one of them was completely without skills. However, in the long game of upala politics, any task she assigned to any one of them would be the seed for plots, manipulation, and consequences she would hardly like.

The longer this situation continued, more this province would feel like the Cinnabar Court. That, by itself, was dangerous.

That close to the border, that many Princes. Before the next summer a conspiration to kill her brother, their father, would be cooking. If she knew anything about upala nobility. She would need to sentence a Prince to **** for treason before the second year burn out.

All that just to satisfy a royal whim…

Comes with the territory.