Ascendant

[Omi]

The data-slate flew across the room, bouncing off the metal wall with a smack. The room's sole occupant looked on in fury. It all came down to nothing. All the months and years of preaching, all the hope they had poured into finding a peaceful resolution to the seemingly unending conflict between two races; all of it had been annihilated while she had been gone, revisiting her past on an extended trip to see the revived Chrysanthemum movement. Staring at the slate lying face-down on the floor, Izumi wished she had never gone. In hindsight, to go out of the loop for months was idiotic, especially for something as meaningless as a past she'd already put behind her. And yet she had gone, and this was what she'd come back to.

Shuddering, Izumi began to cough violently, topping off the bed she’d been sitting on. It wasn't fair, she reflected briefly. How could a Chrysanthemum have a Cardamine allergy? She'd run the question through her mind a million and one times, ever since the first time a draught of the orange gas had sent her reeling, and could only surmise that it was a cruel twist of fate. The orange dream was miraculous, yes, but the side effects she suffered were decidedly less welcome. Doubly so in that nobody else had to endure them.

After a brief period, Izumi picked herself up off the floor, even more incensed. The Oracles were all but gone. The Houses had reacted to their message of tolerance and unity with arrests, persecution and hatred, the latter more than likely due to the Order's influence. Her communication lines had drawn nothing but static on her screen, but some of the smaller news articles on the neural net had told the full tale, piece by piece.

Izumi clenched her fist in anger. Truth be told, she felt like screaming. What was there left for her? She still had her faithful Orchid, currently parked in one of Barrier Gate's many docking bays, but what could one bomber do in the face of so much injustice? To take the Orchid to war went against everything she’d preached, and she wasn't strong enough to rebuild an entire organisation all by herself; she wouldn't know where to even start. How could she still serve the divine?

A thought struck her then. Something that the High Exarch had spoken to her about, briefly, as part of her education. Even he had spoken of it in hushed, reverent tones, impressing upon her both the danger and sanctity of such an arcane process. Perhaps to even think of herself as worthy was wrong, much less to actively seek it out.
Turning those thoughts and more over in her head, Izumi crossed the room and picked up the data-slate...
...

Holding back a rising tide of apprehension, Izumi shakily flew the Orchid through the deep purples and blues of the Nomad system. Her nav computer had assigned it the designation "Omicron Iota", but such a generic, computer-generated name didn't do justice to the ethereal beauty of the star system. Truth be told, Izumi wasn't sure any language could ever totally capture the otherworldly, truly alien ambience. She allowed her autopilot to hold formation with the lead vessel, gazing out into the colourful void as the pair of ships wound their way through the nebula.

It hadn’t been easy convincing people that she was truly prepared to go through with this, no easier than it had been to convince herself that she was committed. What information she’d been able to glean about the process from the databanks she had access to was frightening, and were nothing if not thorough in ensuring the reader knew about the permanency of the process. That was assuming the subject survived, which was another point the information banks were less than encouraging on. The fortitude required to successfully pull through was nothing to be sniffed at. Izumi had read through every scrap of information, every strongly-worded warning and every cautionary note what felt like a thousand times over. She’d felt so apprehensive and nervous at points that she’d very nearly backed out on multiple occasions.

And yet, here she was. However close she’d come to losing her resolve, however many times that had happened, she’d still made her way here. Perhaps that kind of determination was what she needed. After all, actions spoke louder than words, right? Maybe all the doubts and caution she felt were just proof she understood what was at stake. Izumi hoped fervently that that was the case.

"Altair Research Complex", stated a monotone voice over the comms, just as the station itself loomed into view. Part of the complex looked almost organic in nature, yet other sections were visibly designed for human habitation. Izumi had never seen anything like it. Other ships could be seen flitting around the vast expanse of the station, with both Nomad and manmade vessels present.

A line of dots appeared on her Orchid's HUD, and she carefully followed them to a docking port. Deftly, she manoeuvred the bomber into place above the landing area, touching it down as gently as possible. The machinery whirred and clicked, searching for the appropriate grooves, before the bolts slammed down and were fixed into place, locking the little bomber safely within the bay.

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