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Authors: Selene Edwards
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landing pad.
“Something like that,” Avrick replied, falling into step and doing his best to take in the sights and sounds as they left the pad and moved into the central docking ring. It quickly became clear that while all docks may have smelled the same, that was where the similarities ended. He had already boggled at the size of this facility as they had flown over it. A twenty kilometer radius circle with thousands of docking pads, both private and commercial, as well as an impressive array of water-side ports, Norvang stood out as probably the largest complex he had ever seen. A hundred shuttles left from this dock every minute—or so the impatient flight-controller had told them—and Avrick understood what that meant the moment he stepped off the ship.
Lines. Norvang was an open port, but that hardly meant it lacked security. Aside from the usual sensor sweeps and ID checks any shuttle faced as they came in for a landing, passengers often got to enjoy half-day delays as they stood in line waiting for customs to approve them and all of their possessions. Even with an immense staff and security force, it was clear the dock was operating well beyond its functional capacity.
“At least we packed light,” he commented dryly, ogling at all the different travelers and their bizarre behaviors and fashions. He swore some of them were almost a different species…
“Patience,” Vaelen admonished, directing them to the back of the seemingly infinite customs line. “And remember that one day, their judgment will come.”
Avrick grunted but remained silent. The line might have been long, but at least there was a lot to see. Aside from the busied travelers from all across Argoa, he noted the thoroughness of the security procedures. Despite the open port policy, the Elassian government had been gradually imposing more and more restrictions upon its visitors. The Covenant took it as a sign that its missionaries were having an effect; hundreds of them were out here even now, preaching on the streets and assembling worshippers into any makeshift temple they could find. He knew that several of the priests took great personal satisfaction in turning the laws of Solace against itself—while the government sponsored no single religion, it also refused to keep any out. Worshippers and priests from any faith were welcome on its streets, so long as they did not harm one another or openly incite riots.
In principle, the openness had always had a certain appeal to Avrick, but of course the others only saw it as more proof of blasphemy. Covenant missionaries may have had the strongest presence here, but they were not alone. Priests from other religions, such as the popular cult followings from Dallin or Haucos, were almost as common, preaching their backwards faiths in an attempt to woo the masses to their side. Some sponsored the archaic Earth religions despite the fact Avrick hadn’t seen such a temple in his lifetime.
In time, the Covenant believed the message of all lesser faiths would be swept away. While they made promises about the hereafter, only the Sacra’thar offered people the safety and security of Angels in this one. Their power and inspiration would eventually be a beacon to all of Argoa, and every man and woman would come to believe in the glory of God.
All except one.
Avrick winced as Sariel’s face floated before him. He tried to bury it, but it was just as immovable as it had been for their entire flight. What if she had learned something? What if she was right about turning away? Was he really prepared to deal with the consequences of her capture?
“There will be a day when we look back upon this time with bitter amusement,” Vaelen whispered as they slowly shuffled forward in the line. “Not in my lifetime, but perhaps in yours.”
“Yes,” Avrick murmured, trying to let his mind settle.
As it turned out, the line wasn’t nearly as imposing as it seemed. An hour later, the two Chosen had passed
“Something like that,” Avrick replied, falling into step and doing his best to take in the sights and sounds as they left the pad and moved into the central docking ring. It quickly became clear that while all docks may have smelled the same, that was where the similarities ended. He had already boggled at the size of this facility as they had flown over it. A twenty kilometer radius circle with thousands of docking pads, both private and commercial, as well as an impressive array of water-side ports, Norvang stood out as probably the largest complex he had ever seen. A hundred shuttles left from this dock every minute—or so the impatient flight-controller had told them—and Avrick understood what that meant the moment he stepped off the ship.
Lines. Norvang was an open port, but that hardly meant it lacked security. Aside from the usual sensor sweeps and ID checks any shuttle faced as they came in for a landing, passengers often got to enjoy half-day delays as they stood in line waiting for customs to approve them and all of their possessions. Even with an immense staff and security force, it was clear the dock was operating well beyond its functional capacity.
“At least we packed light,” he commented dryly, ogling at all the different travelers and their bizarre behaviors and fashions. He swore some of them were almost a different species…
“Patience,” Vaelen admonished, directing them to the back of the seemingly infinite customs line. “And remember that one day, their judgment will come.”
Avrick grunted but remained silent. The line might have been long, but at least there was a lot to see. Aside from the busied travelers from all across Argoa, he noted the thoroughness of the security procedures. Despite the open port policy, the Elassian government had been gradually imposing more and more restrictions upon its visitors. The Covenant took it as a sign that its missionaries were having an effect; hundreds of them were out here even now, preaching on the streets and assembling worshippers into any makeshift temple they could find. He knew that several of the priests took great personal satisfaction in turning the laws of Solace against itself—while the government sponsored no single religion, it also refused to keep any out. Worshippers and priests from any faith were welcome on its streets, so long as they did not harm one another or openly incite riots.
In principle, the openness had always had a certain appeal to Avrick, but of course the others only saw it as more proof of blasphemy. Covenant missionaries may have had the strongest presence here, but they were not alone. Priests from other religions, such as the popular cult followings from Dallin or Haucos, were almost as common, preaching their backwards faiths in an attempt to woo the masses to their side. Some sponsored the archaic Earth religions despite the fact Avrick hadn’t seen such a temple in his lifetime.
In time, the Covenant believed the message of all lesser faiths would be swept away. While they made promises about the hereafter, only the Sacra’thar offered people the safety and security of Angels in this one. Their power and inspiration would eventually be a beacon to all of Argoa, and every man and woman would come to believe in the glory of God.
All except one.
Avrick winced as Sariel’s face floated before him. He tried to bury it, but it was just as immovable as it had been for their entire flight. What if she had learned something? What if she was right about turning away? Was he really prepared to deal with the consequences of her capture?
“There will be a day when we look back upon this time with bitter amusement,” Vaelen whispered as they slowly shuffled forward in the line. “Not in my lifetime, but perhaps in yours.”
“Yes,” Avrick murmured, trying to let his mind settle.
As it turned out, the line wasn’t nearly as imposing as it seemed. An hour later, the two Chosen had passed
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