Interlude Fifty-Three: Looks Gently Upon Blossoming Flowers (Patreon)

Looks Gently Upon Blossoming Flowers considered certain times of his day sacrosanct.

These were the times he spent on his personal research.

Amongst other species, a scientist might study one topic, but the Xeranai knew all science was, ultimately, one - a study of every different aspect of the universe.

Like most Xeranai, Blossoming had spent the needed time studying astrophysics, biology, chemistry, psychology, economics, and even - ugh - engineering. A true scientist should not, of course, be deterred by something as simple as mechanical contrivances. That didn’t mean he’d enjoyed swinging a spanner.

However, since building your own environmental suit was a mandatory part of Xeranai education, Blossoming had buckled up and learnt to enjoy the elbow grease.

His old school suit was still in storage on the ship, along with the latest version.

The call came in while he was halfway through a peer review document. Blossoming glanced at the caller ID.

Bloodsword. He should have guessed.

<Blossoming>: What is it?

<Bloodsword>: Greetings, Dr. Looks Gently Upon Blossoming Flowers.

Blossoming mentally cursed. The only time the Puppetmaster used his name was when something was going wrong.

<Blossoming>: Can this wait?

<Bloodsword>: Unfortunately not. I have just received a report from the Gellatoid Primary Adjunct. Their existence has been revealed.

<Blossoming>: How long do we have for containment?

<Bloodsword>: Multiple Gellatoid agents were exposed on video and it was broadcast on the global information net.

Blossoming swore.

<Bloodsword>: Data indicates that so far, over sixty million humans have seen the footage. From more than a dozen factions.

<Blossoming>: Do we know who did this?

<Bloodsword>: It was the battlelord. The one who slew Ehu-tu-Vettorak.

A deep sense of regret washed through Looks Gently Upon Blossoming Flowers.

He’d had high hopes for the humans. A promising species, capable of creativity and diversity on a scale other civilizations rarely matched. Now, though…

<Blossoming>: We shall prepare for a punitive mission.

<Bloodsword>: The North American continent shall be purged.

<Blossoming>: No. That would be overreaction.

<Bloodsword>: We are obligated to punish such irrational and illogical behaviour. Our agreement with the Gellatoid calls for such.

<Blossoming>: Continental extermination is excessive. Do we know where the incident happened?

<Bloodsword>: In the battlelord’s home port. Surely you don’t mean to kill him but spare his faction.

<Blossoming>: Then a purge of the home port and the surrounding countryside should suffice. Perhaps a thousand kilometres in each direction. However, we should take care not to contaminate the biosphere - good planets are hard to find.

<Bloodsword>: What do you propose?

<Blossoming>: We shall take the flagship to the surface. Then we shall bombard their cities, and reduce their structures to ash. And then… I shall let the Raptors off the leash.

<Bloodsword>: Very well. I shall do my part. For the Hierarchy.

If only it were that simple, Blossoming thought to himself.

The visage of the Guthnar clanlord shimmered into view on his screen.

<Blossoming>: Daemoras. How do you fare?

<Daemoras>: As ever, my lord. How may this one be of service?

<Blossoming>: Do your men stand ready to wreak havoc on the humans?

<Daemoras>: As ever. My scions will do their duty. As will I, if but you slip the leash. My lord.

<Blossoming>: Ready your men.

<Daemoras>: How many, my lord?

<Blossoming>: All of them. And Daemoras - today, you may take the field.

<Daemoras>: My lord! Thank you for this privilege. The Guthnar will not fail you.

<Blossoming>: Be ready in ten minutes.

The next call went to his engineering specialist, Basks in the Starlight with Gentle Snores.

<Blossoming>: We will be punching through the shield in less than an hour. Prepare the flagship for low altitude combat.

<Gentle Snores>: As you will, Doctor.

<Blossoming>: Thank you, my friend. And… have my environmental suit ready, please.