“That isn’t how you craft the shock absorption rune,” Daeson called out from the doorway, causing Dan to jump, wrecking the intricate whorls and lines of the inscription he’d been trying to carve into a piece of scrap silver.
“Are you sure?” Dan asked with a sigh, putting down the now-useless piece of metal. “I can swear I got the angles of the interior scripting just right.”
“You did,” Daeson agreed, striding into the room, a bottle of wine and two glasses in hand. “Your hand slipped when you were crafting the exterior connectors. The rune was fine, but if you tried to run any mana through the input, the entire thing would short out and probably burn down half of the lab.”
“That sounds painful,” Dan remarked, carefully pushing the possibly-explosive rune away from himself. “Thanks for the heads up.”
Daeson nodded, filling both glasses with wine and setting one in front of Dan. He looked back at the elf in confusion.
“It’s my birthday, and I’m feeling sentimental,” the elf huffed, taking a sip of the ruby vintage. “Now drink up; that wine is older and more valuable than you.”
Dan raised the glass to his mouth, frantically wondering what game Daeson was playing. The nanites would handle any poison, but he wouldn’t know that. Dan would be fine, but the real question was how Daeson would react when his ploy didn’t work.
The wine spilled across Dan’s tongue, not quite as sweet and a little drier than he’d like, but overall a lot better than what he usually bought from the local corner store.
“Taste that!” Daeson swirled his glass before bringing it to his lips once more. “That’s a hint of capprola root. It really brings out the body in the red snow grapes.”
“We both know I only understood about every fourth word of that.” Dan shrugged before taking another nip of the drink. “It tastes good, for what it’s worth.”
“Good?” Daeson snorted. “There was a time when virgins would strip naked just to sniff the cork of an Amberell Ice Red. It took us almost two thousand years of magic and selective breeding to develop a strain of sub-arctic grapes to take advantage of the unique mineral melange of Astooth. After that, it was another thousand years to perfect the mix of grape skin to juice, to ensure the right amount of tannins. Literally, civilizations have risen and fallen in the time it took to develop that glass of wine in your hands, and all you can say is that it’s good?”
The elf took another drink of the wine, closing his eyes to enjoy the dark red liquid as it coated his tongue. “You’re a barbarian, Daniel.” He shook his head, a half smile on his face as he basked in the drink’s flavor bouquet.
“What can I say?” Dan shrugged. “It’s good.”
“That bottle is priceless.” Daeson shook his head, pouring himself another glass. “Astooth has fallen to the Orakh some two hundred years ago, their advance as relentless as it is boorish.”
“I thought the Tellask were beating the Orakh?” Dan frowned, setting his wineglass on the table.
“Oh, we win most of the battles.” Daeson waved a hand flippantly. “Grand stories of heroism, each warrior standing tall atop a small mountain of green bodies. Very heroic and noble.”
Daeson gestured at Dan with his glass. “What they don’t say is that the Orakh just need biological material, water, and time to grow an army. If you kill five hundred of the things and leave a planet, they just eat their dead and give birth to another four hundred and fifty. You can wear them out eventually; it just takes decades of warfare and hundreds of thousands of deaths, and for what?”
He sloshed the cup, almost spilling it, but recovering just in time with the help of his finely-tuned reflexes to catch the precious liquid in his glass once more.
“By the time we recapture the planet, it will be denuded.” Daeson set the glass down, a mournful expression on his face. “Stripped bare of all life in order to power the Orakh war machine. We stop their incursions, but without support from the rest of the Empire, we’ll never be able to take back a single world overrun by the Orakh. Like poor Ashtooth. Three thousand years of careful work turned into a couple hundred ravening grunts.”
“What about here?” Dan asked. “Do you think we’re safe on Twilight? I know we’re close to the front, but no one really talks about it.”
“Fuck no.” Daeson chuckled, then blinked, a half smile rising on his face. “Pardon me, the wine must be hitting me harder than I thought. But to answer your question, no. We are not safe from the Orakh here. The planet has no Amberell support, let alone units from the Tellask Empire. By the void, it isn’t even unified. A single Orakh incursion craft would be enough to take over the entire place in six months.”
“Why don’t you leave?” Dan asked, curious despite himself.
“Stubbornness?” The elf replied, swirling his wine in its glass before taking another sip. “I suppose I could return to the Empire, but I’m not welcome anywhere I’d want to be. That just leaves the rest of the frontier.
“It’d be one uncivilized hellhole or another.” Daeson sighed, shrugging at Dan. “At least on Twilight, the entire planet is run by warring city states. They don’t even have their act together enough to realize I’m here. It certainly has cut down on requests for assistance.” He chuckled, forcing a wry smile from Dan. “But there really aren’t any other options.”
Daeson took another sip of the wine. “My great nephew once removed, Paltai, was on a scouting mission in this area. I was sort of hoping he’d find some frontier world worth hiding out on while I completed my research. He even reported back that he’d found a planet teeming with humans that he was going to try and conquer.”
Dan stiffened, the name triggering a brief memory of the invasion of Earth. He forced out a breath, hoping that Daeson was drunk enough to overcome his normally keen senses.
“The damn fool kid never sent a follow up message.” The elf set his empty glass back down on the table, looking at it mournfully before stealing a glance at his still half-full bottle. “He probably bit off more than he could chew and got himself killed. I guess we’ll have to wait until the follow up subjugation expedition sets out to find out.”
“Subjugation?” Dan asked, his earlier attempts at nonchalance shattering with a crack of his voice. “Does that mean what I think it does?”
“A voidship setting up a teleportation gate to bring in Imperial and Amberell troops until we overrun whatever killed Paltai?” Daeson inquired rhetorically.
“Why would they bother with some sort of punitive expedition when the Orakh could arrive at any moment?” Dan leaned back in his chair, the half-finished glass of wine in front of him forgotten.
“The planet could be a threat,” Daeson recorked the wine bottle with an audible sigh before continuing. “There could be an Orakh infestation, just waiting to build its population up enough to build and crew an incursion ship. If all else fails, it’s a stain on the Empire’s honor. A world full of savages resisting the Empire doesn’t sit well with the Imperial Court.”
“Will the expedition begin soon?” Dan asked hesitantly.
“Who knows.” The elf leaned unsteadily forward, snagging the cup of wine from Dan and pulling it back to his side of the table. “The Empire moves when it’s good and ready. It’s possible that the ships have already been dispatched, but it’s more likely that they are still in their planning stages. It could be years to a decade before they find the planet Paltai was visiting. Happy birthday to me.” Daeson winked at Dan before downing the wine from the stolen cup.
“Happy birthday to you,” Dan agreed, struggling to contain the rush of worry filling him. He needed to return to Earth, and soon.
“That’s what I like about humans.” Daeson smiled, placing the two empty wine glasses next to each other. “You’re like dogs, but you can talk back. It really helps cut down on the loneliness of being trapped in a barren wasteland.”
“Thanks?” Dan replied, struggling to find a suitable answer.
“No, thank you.” Daeson stood up, grabbing the glasses and the bottle as he walked to the room’s exit. “Keep up the good work, Daniel, and thank you for being a sport about my spots of mopiness.”
Dan watched him go, a mixed expression on his face. Despite himself, and as awful his elven jailor could be, he felt some pride at Daeson’s words. Of course, that didn’t change the fact that he needed to escape as soon as possible. Now, more than ever, Earth needed him.
