General Claymore made some sensory fumbling in the direction of the blue beam before feeling the cool, breezy contact. It wasn’t immediately easy to do things without a familiar corporeal form. How does one grab without hands? Just… grab. When the connection was there, he felt the extent of its channels – by way of the Signalman’s internal pathway to receptive Vedani counterparts, branching toward their frontline programming into a fractally multiplied magnitude of connections to the variety of entry points in their targets. There was a fresh tingle at these ends, like they had literally just now repurposed this technology for what they were about to attempt; yet there was a solidity of competence. While they may have just now done this, this is exactly the sort of thing they can do.

He let go and grabbed on to the tether, let go and grabbed on, like fiddling with a microphone, feeling the difference of connection and disconnect. The bare technical details were rapidly discussed with Sturlusson and a forthcoming Vedani presence, who merely and quickly stated themselves as Vedani – a new enough concept to General Claymore. He now knew what to say to the soldiers, and was feeling those distinct breaths that come before telling people what to do with their lives in the face of risk.

Coming to a decision, he addressed Raev Sturlusson first. “I want you to send me with them. Can you do that?”

“You have this connection… we, they, could actually do that. From ‘here’.” Sturlusson paused. “Your body would go, too. You know there’s a chaotic element to this emergency rescue which precludes us knowing exactly where you will end up, besides in relative safety. Are you sure you want to do that?”

“I’m sure that I’m sending them with little other option. I think this is the only way that I can choose to do so. Wherever we go, however we go, I will help them from there. And then, I think they’ll go.”

“Okay, then we will do that. I hope you’re wearing something.” Sturlusson sounded as though he knew this kind of situation.

“Be that as it may.”

As Draig was guided to examine each viewpoint more carefully, he received internal estimates of each force brewing, its points of focus and the knowledge base directing it. The grips of power and chains of collapse. Most of this came in the form of wordless understanding, but the Dragon Mbarx also whispered.

…so much of this might is new… but what is new comes from the old. we know these workings, now. i know my part… the others know theirs. your shield of disharmony was elegantly woven… but we forged another frequency, and now we are present with the powers needed to remove you of yours…

Gaining knowledge of the forces in conflict also gave General Claymore awareness of how they would behave in the dismantling, and he stopped himself from considering the manner of imminent fatalities. These explosives were lit. The overview folded itself away from him, and he was approached again by the consciousness of Raev Sturlusson. Signalman? Draig was surprised by the moniker which floated into thought. That must be what they call him.

“You know that there’s next to no time. We have an escape hatch option. This wasn’t planned, and it’s never been done before. This is via the combined abilities of concerned parties who you have never met, but you are the one who has to tell your soldiers to save themselves. There’s no time for detailed explanation. The attack won’t wait. It’s for you to decide that it’s worth the risk to try to save as many as you can. If they do as you say… they’ll live. We don’t think they would have listened to us. There’s a good chance they’ll listen to you.”

“What do they need to do?”

“They need to link hands and touch the orbs that appear inside their windows.”

“Where are they going to go?”

“I don’t know. Somewhere.”

“I’ll tell them. How?”

A clean, glowing blue beam extended from Sturlusson’s point of awareness toward General Alisandre’s. “Connect. Then you can speak, and your voice will be sent into every vessel you just sighted.”

There was another human awareness present – something like him, but over there. Draig recognized signs of a similar role, placement, presence, intention. They were actually here, of all places outside of physical space.

Part of the friction boundary swirled open, allowing these two into each others’ space while remaining in their own elements. “Oh, it’s you. Raev Sturlusson.”

The gaze returned from the other side. “Oh. Hello. General Alisandre.” There was a beat, then tension exploded in grappling, between the raw force of one and the other. Claymore felt the surge within himself, but it was met immediately, simultaneously. The churning of fractal boundaries between their domains threatened to fracture the current cohesion, then subsided to a calmer writhing with no mutual injury. “That was fun, I guess. Interesting seeing you here. I am busy.” Sturlusson’s presence began to withdraw, then hesitated while seeming to be directed elsewhere. “If you wait… just a moment.”

General Claymore felt all the dimension behind and around him, wondering how time worked here. Dreams could happen in the minutes before waking, but this wasn’t a dream. Not facile yet in the thought-voice, he decided not to exert unless strictly required. This was probably worth it.

“Since you’re here. Some of my associates had the bravado of giving you a glimpse of what is occurring. That was not a future-telling, this is happening right now. There may be more to this than your curiosity, maybe this: others among us feel it would be better for fewer people to have to die. Your presence affords us a unique opportunity, which some are discussing, very quickly, right now.”

Draig stayed put. The tension between their dynamically balanced forces felt less like arm wrestling and more like handshaking in this moment.

“Mbarx would like to inform you further so you can understand the matter more fully, in case you should like to exercise your role.” General Alisandre had recognized their sightings immediately: the five largest Alpha Station bases with fleet mobilizations.