Masterminds & Comets

The tale of the Koprulu Sector unfucking itself

Date: 2508.07.05

Location: Aiur, Citadel of the Executors, Council Chambers
Time: Early afternoon

Artanis liked being in the Citadel. It was both nostalgic and rejuvenating. When the Twilight Council was looking for a proper building to house itself in, there were at first arguments (somewhat commonplace now that the war was over). Not specifically about the location but its potential symbolic meaning. It was actually Karax who solved the problem by saying 'You are executors, so why not move into the Citadel of the Executor? Back then we only had one, but now that we have four it only seems reasonable that they should be where their former colleagues were.' Clean, logical, efficient. 'Hah! Just add a plural and be done with it!', he remembered Vorazun laughing.

Of course, the Citadel needed to be rebuilt but that was a good problem. It became a symbol of unity for the many cultures that lived under the Daelaam, and as such, the construction brought together all the tiny sparks of hope that someday the horrors of the past would be behind them, that they could explore their new future as one people, no matter how diverse.

They chose the small chamber for this hearing, since this was not a public issue – yet. Although the imagery was purely holographic, the room appeared to be a giant disc of thin gold, floating above the tallest spire of the Citadel. Its artistic engravings marked the position of the hierarch, the executors, and the guests. Artanis stood at the north, defining the position of the rest, both symbolically and practically. To his left, at the 2 and 4 o'clock position were Selendis and Talandar, representing the sunlight rising from the east. To his right, at the 10 and 8 o'clock position were Vorazun and Yalara, Executor of the Tal'darim in the Daelaam, representing the darkness into which the sun descends in the west.

In essence, this was the practical expansion of the Twilight Council, as well as the visual indicator of the division between their peoples. Back then it was only Selendis and Vorazun arguing, one bull-headed, the other provocative. Now this was expanded with Talandar's bull-headedness and Yalara's provocativeness. To make it worse, both were different, so Artanis was stuck with 4 vastly different worlds colliding, and he was supposed to forge them into one people.

Today, however, he was supposed to judge someone for being even worse than them.

"Who are you, and why do you believe to have been brought before us?" Artanis asked, both to provide a somewhat formal context and give himself time to digest.

"I am Nabiros, phase-smith of those known as the Purifiers.", the machine-Protoss said with shocking contempt. "I am here to be tried for heresy of the highest order. Then executed, in all likelihood."

"There is nothing to blaspheme against in the Daelaam, thus you cannot be a heretic. We cannot execute you for a crime you could not have committed.", Artanis said to Nabiros, though it was also addressed to his four Executors. "Still, I would know what you meant by 'heresy of the highest order'."

Nabiros stood for a moment, as if to appraise him and his council. "I do not believe that I, or any one of the Purifiers, are Protoss.", he said with the tone of one who is explaining something he knows will not be understood by his audience.

"Sacrilege!", Talandar shouted in disbelief, despite having already heard it once before this council session.

Artanis noted that Vorazun and Yalara did not respond, though they do seem to be very interested in the matter. "Explain.", he said, even though every fibre of his being screamed at the sheer impossibility of what the phase-smith said.

Nabiros waited a moment to see if any objections were raised. When none came, he continued with a hint of uncertainty, as to what could possibly be going on in his audience's heads. "It is simple, and my proof stands among you." he said, gesturing at Talandar. "Talandar believes with certainty that he is not Fenix, even though he was created with everything that we consider to be the core building blocks of an individual: memories, experiences, character. According to the records I have read, the Fenix interred into a Dragoon had no such symptoms: he died the second time as the same hero that he always was. As I am sure you have experienced, the technology involved in making a Dragoon and a Purifier are vastly different. A Dragoon is essentially a combat prosthetic that contains an already living person within, while a Purifier has no organic components. So how is it possible that the water poured in one cup changes colour, while the other does not?"

Artanis' inner turmoil calmed into a quiet horror, as he began to saw the reason in the phase-smith's words and awaited his conclusion. Talandar looked like an innocent whose lethal verdict was being read to, devastated and confused. Selendis' eyes darted between Talandar, Nabiros, and himself, bewildered and unsure if she wanted to comfort her comrade, listen to this mad preacher, or to ask Artanis to silence him. Vorazun and Yalara, on the other hand, were hanging on his every word, curious and with dawning realisations behind their eyes. It is as if I am seeing my own soul: half terrified, half interested. Artanis thought. And I am to decide on this.

Leaning in a little for the verbal killing blow, Nabiros continued. "It is said that one's soul enters its body when it is capable of housing it – and so it only seems logical that upon the activation of a finished Purifier body, it becomes the home of a soul." Nabiros waited a moment for the statement to sink in. "The memories implanted into that soul are all they know at first, but like all implants, they will be recognised as alien, not coming from the origin. So it is only logical that a Purifier still in its infancy would adopt the imprinted identity; therefore, as the Purifier grows as a person, they will shed this imprinted identity, much like how we would take off the clothes that are revealed to be another's and put on our own instead."

Talandar stood only because he had four legs, while the others summoned a chair for themselves with a barely conscious gesture, so they could ponder this enormous revelation without spending precious brain capacity on something as irrelevant as standing. Seeing that the council believes to have suffered the killing blow, Nabiros found himself finishing his argument with the cold, calculated cruelty of a surgeon who must remove a limb to save a patient they couldn't care less about.

"Based on that, while the Purifiers were indeed made by Protoss, based on Protoss, they are not, themselves, Protoss."

The silence that settled on those present at first appealed to Nabiros. He looked triumphant, like he proved the others wrong. As he began to sense the quiet, almost enervated disturbance whirling within everyone else, he grew unsure first, then fearful. He seemed to have checked and re-checked his reasoning, to see if it was clear – and when he found nothing wrong, only then did it seem to dawn on him that is it not the information's veracity that was on the table anymore, but the meaning of it, and its myriad potential consequences. Artanis was glad that Nabiros recognised that finally.

Imagine yourself in the following situation, Artanis would have liked to say to someone right now. You are responsible for a fledgling domain of 4 different peoples, one of whom is inorganic, mechanical. They have the knowledge and experience of some of your best warriors and scientists, as well as a giant warship that contains all the technological marvels your species ever created, even if only in its vast archives. They respect you, and have acknowledged your lead. However, suddenly they are revealed to be a different species altogether, with a severe identity crisis on every level: personal, organisational, and cultural. How do you help them? Or worse, how do you ensure your own people's safety from them, should they decide to disappear, only to return with vast, mass-produced legions in a few decades to cleanse the sector, because that is all they know, purification? I don't even have someone to complain to, I have to do it in an internal monologue.

Artanis shifted in his seat, put his left arm on the armrest and leant his head upon his hand in contemplation, with the calm relaxation of a man trying to deal with the incomprehensible without fighting its incomprehensibility. "What you say sounds reasonable. Finding out how little we understand of the world is no longer a new and alien experience to us. However, what do you believe should be done about this? You just declared the Purifiers an entirely different species, but how are we supposed to treat the heroes of our history like they are not one of us?"

The shift in the conversation was obvious but the responses varied. Vorazun seemed interested in the answer to what she saw as an entirely reasonable question. Yalara was amused by the finesse with which he flipped the issue back to Nabiros, while apparently considering the entire topic academic, albeit a very interesting one. Selendis seemed glad that now the accuser feels buried under a mountain of pressure, and was fairly certain he wouldn't get out of it easily, or at all. Talandar, however, looked very invested in the quality of Nabiros' response, since he himself very much wanted to know how to deal with all this, and even the smallest hint would have been appreciated.

Nabiros felt pinned for a few seconds, but his circuits burped out the only reasonable response they could nonetheless. "Be a responsible parent and let your children find their identity on their own."

Artanis felt amused, and for the first time in hours, reassured. "I already do. However…" he stood up as he spoke. "… it is obvious to me that you wish to explore your identity in a less… traditional setting. So to support you in that search, I am giving you a ship, and my word that you can come and go as you please within our borders. And when you have found the answers you seek, I promise to listen to them as soon as I am able."

Relief poured from everyone around him. Vorazun and Yalara saw the case settled but not the matter in its entirety. Selendis was glad that they would be rid of Nabiros in a clean way that benefited all parties involved. Talandar seemed relieved that on one hand the big questions became distant enough to bare, and on the other hand that they will be answered in time by the same person who brought them up, which will surely be interesting to say the least.

"I did not believe you to be so wise, Hierarch." Nabiros bowed with respect. "I gained more than I had hoped and lost nothing in return, thank you."

"I told you, Nabiros, that there is no blasphemy to commit in the Daelaam." Artanis replied with a little nod. "In fact, seeking answers for the hardest questions is among the most honourable pursuits. Go with our hopes for your success and safety."

If Artanis had known the consequences of this decision, he might have assigned someone to keep Nabiros in check. Or maybe ten someones, to be sure.