to agree in part.
"Look at these ships," said Taylor, "We're scraping bits together to try and get them operational. At least half of them should never be committed to space again. They'll be damn death traps. We need the tech they have."
"Who?"
"Irala's people, whoever they are. How do we not even know what they're called yet? You know we are goddamn allies, and I've not heard a word from them. Sure, they must be repairing and recovering themselves, but not a single bit of contact? Time we got some contact from them."
Jafar didn't respond, but Taylor knew his silence was a statement in itself.
"What, you don't agree?"
"If they have not come to you, they may not want to talk."
"And if we don't go to them, how will we ever know? I'm gonna go find that silent son of a bitch and get some answers."
Taylor intended to leave but was suddenly met with Irala standing in front of him. He jumped back a few paces in surprise.
"How the hell do you do that?"
"You have encountered Erdogan enough times now to know that he possesses hologram projection technology?"
"Yeah."
"He stole that from us. One of many devices he stole in the war we fought."
Taylor thought himself a fool for not reaching that conclusion, but he still found it hard to adjust to the ever-increasing amount of tech he encountered.
"That cloaking technology I have seen your ships use. I have seen it before."
"Yes, though his people were never able to make it work effectively for larger vessels, and only ever in a limited number of equipment taken from us."
"If you possessed such technology, how did you ever lose?" Taylor asked.
"We are few, we always have been. We live for hundreds; sometimes even thousands of your years, but we have few offspring and are a small people in population. Hence, we rely on our technology to make up for this."
"If you live that long, then dying must be a pretty big deal?"
"Individually, no more a loss than I should imagine you would feel, but as a species, yes."
"Well, we're starting to understand that. We aren't exactly a flourishing population. There are what, three million humans left? We've entered a new dark age."
Irala looked surprised by his comment.
"There are many more than three million of you left."
"What do you mean?"
"Those on Earth, of course, your homeworld."
"Earth is long lost, and Erdogan would not have let humanity survive in his paradise."
Irala shook his head. "Then you are misinformed. Pockets of resistance fight on in your world. Others have been enslaved and work for the Krys."
Taylor was shocked and speechless. He had never believed life could have gone on in any capacity after they left.
“How do you know this?”
“We have monitored the progression of the war on your planet.”
“So you have people there now?”
“No.”
“Do you know how many humans still live?”
“Our last figures suggest up to eighty or ninety million worldwide.”
Taylor was once again silenced and shocked.
“I need to pass this information on to our leaders. I don’t think you appreciate how significant this is.”
Irala didn’t respond physically; he only calmly responded, “You will in time tell them.”
“They’ll need to meet you. I do not command this fleet, far from it.”
“But we have dealt with you, we trust you. We do not know them, and we do not know whether we trust them yet.”
“Well, you won’t know till you meet them, will you?”
“For now, we will make all contact through you, Colonel. You have proven yourself to my people. Though we can still not approve of your association with that,” he said as he pointed to Jafar, “You should have killed it the first time you set eyes upon it. For that creature can bring you nothing but pain and destruction.”
“And if I had killed him all those years ago, I wouldn’t be here to talk to you this day. You expect a lot of trust from me, so I expect a little back. When we finally take Earth back, we’ll have a sizeable Krys
"Look at these ships," said Taylor, "We're scraping bits together to try and get them operational. At least half of them should never be committed to space again. They'll be damn death traps. We need the tech they have."
"Who?"
"Irala's people, whoever they are. How do we not even know what they're called yet? You know we are goddamn allies, and I've not heard a word from them. Sure, they must be repairing and recovering themselves, but not a single bit of contact? Time we got some contact from them."
Jafar didn't respond, but Taylor knew his silence was a statement in itself.
"What, you don't agree?"
"If they have not come to you, they may not want to talk."
"And if we don't go to them, how will we ever know? I'm gonna go find that silent son of a bitch and get some answers."
Taylor intended to leave but was suddenly met with Irala standing in front of him. He jumped back a few paces in surprise.
"How the hell do you do that?"
"You have encountered Erdogan enough times now to know that he possesses hologram projection technology?"
"Yeah."
"He stole that from us. One of many devices he stole in the war we fought."
Taylor thought himself a fool for not reaching that conclusion, but he still found it hard to adjust to the ever-increasing amount of tech he encountered.
"That cloaking technology I have seen your ships use. I have seen it before."
"Yes, though his people were never able to make it work effectively for larger vessels, and only ever in a limited number of equipment taken from us."
"If you possessed such technology, how did you ever lose?" Taylor asked.
"We are few, we always have been. We live for hundreds; sometimes even thousands of your years, but we have few offspring and are a small people in population. Hence, we rely on our technology to make up for this."
"If you live that long, then dying must be a pretty big deal?"
"Individually, no more a loss than I should imagine you would feel, but as a species, yes."
"Well, we're starting to understand that. We aren't exactly a flourishing population. There are what, three million humans left? We've entered a new dark age."
Irala looked surprised by his comment.
"There are many more than three million of you left."
"What do you mean?"
"Those on Earth, of course, your homeworld."
"Earth is long lost, and Erdogan would not have let humanity survive in his paradise."
Irala shook his head. "Then you are misinformed. Pockets of resistance fight on in your world. Others have been enslaved and work for the Krys."
Taylor was shocked and speechless. He had never believed life could have gone on in any capacity after they left.
“How do you know this?”
“We have monitored the progression of the war on your planet.”
“So you have people there now?”
“No.”
“Do you know how many humans still live?”
“Our last figures suggest up to eighty or ninety million worldwide.”
Taylor was once again silenced and shocked.
“I need to pass this information on to our leaders. I don’t think you appreciate how significant this is.”
Irala didn’t respond physically; he only calmly responded, “You will in time tell them.”
“They’ll need to meet you. I do not command this fleet, far from it.”
“But we have dealt with you, we trust you. We do not know them, and we do not know whether we trust them yet.”
“Well, you won’t know till you meet them, will you?”
“For now, we will make all contact through you, Colonel. You have proven yourself to my people. Though we can still not approve of your association with that,” he said as he pointed to Jafar, “You should have killed it the first time you set eyes upon it. For that creature can bring you nothing but pain and destruction.”
“And if I had killed him all those years ago, I wouldn’t be here to talk to you this day. You expect a lot of trust from me, so I expect a little back. When we finally take Earth back, we’ll have a sizeable Krys
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