Our aethership has settled into a steady orbit around the unknown, uncharted
aetherbubble. For the moment, all is quiet, other than the gentle hum of the
command chair in which I sit. I take the moment to gaze out through the glass
of the hull, marveling at the vastness of aetherspace. Marveling at my own
insignificance.

There was a time in my life when those thoughts created within me a feeling of
wonderment - a desire to explore every corner of creation, to discover unknown
worlds and civilizations. I had wanted to unravel the mysteries of the far
corners of aetherspace, to travel even beyond the realm of the dragons. Surely
there must be other worlds than this, and what a joy it would be to find them!

But that was a long time ago. Such a long time ago. Today I was serving on
one of the most rickety, beaten down, derelict ships in the Celestian fleet.
Which wasn't saying much, really. Out of the three hundred odd ships that New
Celest possessed, we were actually one of the better equipped. A whole two
turrets to our name, and a fully functioning empath grid!

It is 15,031 years after the coming of Estarra, and the entire world has gone
mad.

There was a time in New Celest's history when we had dreamed of recreating the
ancient Empire of old, of spreading the Light to the rest of the Basin,
cleansing the world of the Taint, and taming those savages of the forests.

But we lost the wars. We lost our territories. We lost our Holy Supernals. We
had even lost our nexus, the Pool of Stars now just another ruin in the broken
and beaten city of New Celest. But we had not lost our faith.

We had one final, desperate hope to save ourselves, to resurrect the long dead
Holy Supernals, cleanse the now tainted Plane of Water, and even rebuild the
Pool of Stars. The discovery had been made by a group of astrologers, the final
remnants of the once glorious Celestines. Celestia had long since forsaken
them, not even granting them angelic companions. Perhaps that is why they
worked so hard, to redeem themselves in the eyes of the Light.

While studying the movement of the stars and other planar bodies they had
discovered a small pocket of pure power in the inter-weaving of aetherspace. It
was incredibly difficult, but they built a tool which could be easily carried by
an aethership, and used to siphon that energy back into pylons which they had
hidden beneath the ruins of the Deep Blue Cathedral. The plan was then to
harness the power stored in these pylons, and focus it back into the Pool of
Stars. If all went well, the light of the Pool would be rekindled, and spark a
chain reaction through the outer Planes, cleansing Water, reviving the
Supernals, and even retying the Pool's connection to the Astral sphere of
Cancer.

Since the defeat of New Celest, the rest of the Basin had devolved into "fend
for yourself" warfare, each of the other three nations trying to gain the upper
hand over the other two, in a bid for final and ultimate victory. Most
Celestians had opted to sell themselves out as mercenaries to whichever nation
could pay them the most, so it was a simple matter to sneak one ship off into
aetherspace to test the first siphon.

It was hailed as a great success - the tool worked perfectly. The only problem
was that it was going to take more power than first considered to reignite the
light of the Pool. A great deal more. So the decision had been made to launch
all but a very few of the Celestian fleet into space, in a gamble to quickly
find as many of the pockets of power as possible.

Things had started off smoothly, with a few ships finding new pockets every few
days. But the further out into the aetherspace we voyaged, the fewer and more
far between the pockets became. Eventually, we passed the point where our
communication systems could reach back to the Prime plane. Our King sent out
one final message to every remaining ship,

"You are the finest citizens that New Celest has ever known. The hopes, dreams
and lives of everyone back home is riding with you. Wherever you go and whatever
you find, take the teachings of the Light with you. This world has not been
kind to us, I'm afraid, but we must uphold our ideals. In ten years time,
despite what you have found, return to us. Even if we were not able to reignite
the Pool of Stars, I would rather we live out the final years of our lives
together, as was meant to be."

It had been eight years since that transmission, and here we were. Not a
single new pocket of energy had been discovered in the last three years, but we
continued pressing on. Constantly vigilant, always hopeful. Today those hopes
had finally come to fruition, only not in the way we had expected. Our sensors
were picking up enormous spikes of energy and power from the surface of this
bubble.

There were, however, a few inconveniences. Our telescopic sensors had stopped
functioning several years ago, so we could no longer obtain visual information
on anything more than half a mile away, and for some reason our siphons could
not pull this energy in the same way it could the pockets of power found
floating naturally in space. I had ordered a few researches into investigating
the problem, but thus far no answers had been found.

"Sir," a voice behind me says. I swivel in my command chair, my weary eyes
rising to meet another set of equally weary eyes. "We think we have your
answers."

I simply nod. Words do not come easily to me these days.

"As you know, most of our sensors are either broken or malfunctioning so badly
they cannot be trusted. However, our eco sensors and power sensors are still in
perfect condition. We have detected life forms on this bubble. At first we
thought they were only the primitive life we see on most bubbles out this far,
but given the power readings we are picking up...we think they are actually
harnessing this power. The images given by the power sensor display depicts the
power in clusters, with defined edges, unlike the blurry edges of the power
pockets floating in space."

I sit back in my chair, rubbing my chin, "That at least explains why our
siphons can't get to the energy."

My assistant nods, fidgeting slightly, before speaking in barely more than a
whisper, "The only thing we can figure, sir, is that to get the power, we would
need to...to release it somehow. We've tried to contact the people on the
surface, but our communicators are not what they used to be. One thing we can
be sure of, though...any people with the ability to harness power like that can
surely use it. If we don't do something quickly, they could shoot us down."

I understand at once what he is implying, and immediately the voice of my King,
from that transmission of long ago, echoes in my head.

It takes less than a second to make my decision. "Pull back from the bubble, as
far as you can without the turrets losing it as their target. Ready the
siphons, point them at the core of the bubble. Have them turned on and waiting,
and then fire. A few shots should be enough to ignite whatever they have
containing the power...the force of the explosion will obliterate the bubble and
anything on it. The siphons will then be free to absorb as much of the power as
they can before it dissipates."

A grim smile flickers across his face, "Yes sir."

He turns to leave, but I stop him with a final comment, "And tell...tell
everyone we're going home. Tell them to forget what happens here today."

The explosion rocks the ship with its intensity, and I'm worried for a moment
that it's going to tear through us. But she holds, just like she always has.
She's been such a good vessel, but I'm sick to death of her.

The power we drain from the explosion is about half of the total number the
Pool needed to be repaired. Coupled with what was there when we left, along
with whatever the other ships found, it should be more than enough. I do not
sleep well that night, or any other night for the next eight years on the voyage
home. My dreams are riddled with the screams of a thousand souls, burning to
death in the searing intensity of pure power. My days, however, are filled with
joy at the thought of returning to the Basin of Life, of reviving our nexus. I
see the faces of my friends, which I thought I had forgotten long ago. I think
of walking down newly built streets and laughing with the kinsman, the warm and
radiant glow of the Light all around us.

Eight years after the massacre at the aetherbubble we slide back into the dock
at New Celest, home for the first time in sixteen years, eager to see what
progress has been made with the power we siphoned. Perhaps the Pool has already
been reignited in our absence!

As we exit the ship into the city, however, there is nothing. The ruins we
left sixteen years ago have turned to dust. Black and red clouds hang over the
ground that was once New Celest, rivulets of forked lighting dancing through the
sky. Without warning a high pitched screeching begins reverberating from below
the rubble where we stand.

Wordlessly I sift through the rock, dust, and soot, until I find a small round
metallic device, something similar to what bards used to record plays back when
we enjoyed such things. Suddenly the screeching from the device halts, and the
voice of our King, that we left sixteen years earlier, fills our ears.

"Greetings, long lost voyagers of the deep and faithful servants of New Celest.
This recording has been set to play whenever any Celestian ship enters our
dock. When you return to your ship, please leave it here for future voyagers.
There are no words which can express our gratitude for what you have done, or
tried to do, just as there are no words to express our sorrow and shame of what
we have done. It seems as though the Magnagorans were made aware of our project
to revive the Pool, and as soon as our fleet exited the realm of communication,
they swept down to attack us, and steal the power we had accumulated for
themselves. Gathering as many people as we could into what ships we had left, as
well as all of the filled pylons of power, we fled into aetherspace. We intend
to use one of pylons to give our ships an extreme boost of speed, to reach a
land as far away from this Basin of Death as possible, so that we may resettle
and live out the rest of our lives in peace. We are so sorry for the sacrifices
you have made for our city, and that they were all in vain. But please, when
you receive this, try to join us. We have marked our intended course on the back
of this recorder, and we intend to use the pylons of power as a flare of sorts.
It should be obvious when you find us; we will light up your sensors just as the
Light will always light up your heart."