The Morrigan

Far into the expanse of where mankind had once reached, rain fell on a distant world.

There, a flight deck that should never have touched an atmosphere felt the kiss of rain, while waves slapped against the hull that should never have seen an ocean. So, it did not stand in contrast that the gunship whose engines still cooled, sat on a landing pad to which it did not belong.

Not that anyone who had served on this floundering leviathan was here to protest.

Not even the dead.

The fateful crew who had ridden this mighty warship to its final resting place had rotted away long ago. Yet, for as old as the wreck was likely to be, one could almost be convinced that its end had been only a few days past.

But the figure who now stood deep in the abandoned holds of this derelict knew that a union carrier, especially one of this size, hadn’t seen the vacuum of space for almost two centuries. Any pristine value that the ship was managing to maintain was just one more testament to the ingenuity of humanity.

After countless wars that finally ended with the collapse, wrecks such as this littered thousands of worlds. Often they became haven for those who survived whatever cataclysm that had made them refugees. But no one had been able to endure this ship’s unplanned landing, and apparently nor had it been discovered by anyone since. That is, no one except this lone figure and the two dead women that lay in its empty compartments and hollow corridors.

Still dripping with water from the rain outside, the figure stood shrouded in a full body cape and cowl. It all glistened in the dark as the figure knelt to examine the dead, the mimeo-fabric shimmering as precipitation slid from its surface. Soaked and tattered, the kinetic electro-camouflage hung heavy to the frame of the person underneath, revealing a woman’s very fit physique.

Crouched, she took a rosary chain off of one of the dead women, holding it in her hand. At the chain’s end however, where typically a religious icon attached, there was instead a heart shaped locket. She winced.

Grieving, she pulled the locket close to her face, hidden under her hood.

Of what could be seen of her arms and legs, it showed an intricate suit of segmented neuro armor. It addition, it was clear that the lone figure was an augment with cybernetic implants and bio-ware upgrades, but she was not a cyborg, not in the conventional sense anyway.

She was a Savant.

A pinnacle of human evolution.

A being who had naturally manifested powers of the mind, psionics. A rare phenomenon amongst humans. More than a thousand years ago, in an event that earned the moniker of “The True Human Epiphany,” psionics finally achieved recognition.

When Savants first came into public view, it was disbelief. Surely their capabilities were a hoax.

Encouraged by the first however, others eventually came out of hiding.

Soon Savants numbered in the hundreds.

Disbelief turned into awe.

Their existence changed society as a whole.

Ideologies formed around them. Sciences took off in new directions and anything seemed possible.

But as time rolled on, various understandings took hold. Their genome, as well as all of humanity would be put under a microscope. In the next few centuries governments and corporations spent untold billions researching every aspect of how this had come to pass.

How did a Savant’s powers work? How long have they been around? Were their capabilities something that others could engineer? Could these talents be given to someone who was simply a Mundane, a normal human being? This and many other questions were posed, and eventually most were answered.

Research determined that their powers were part of a natural evolutionary process. It was a direction that humanity had been headed towards for eons. All of mankind had traces of it. In actuality, all were integrated into what a Savant was.

By the time of the Epiphany, it was estimated that there were over half a trillion humans throughout the galaxy. And it was these numbers that ended up being the most important aspect of research conducted, as they told something astonishing.

All of humanity was connected.

Proof of this came forward with evidence that there had been other Savants throughout history. And as people dug further into archives of old, more and more data illustrated that the number of Savants at any one time, was limited to a single and overarching factor.

Population.

All statistical models illustrated that humanity had been producing, and was continuing to produce, one Savant for every one billion people. But it was not simply odds. There was an inter-correlation to the number of Savants versus Mundanes, a symbiotic balance. For a Savant could not draw power without a billion people in existence.

Records had shown figures in history that had been identified as likely Savants, who had then disappeared into obscurity as their capabilities apparently waned, unknowingly a result of a population decrease.

Conversely, if a Savant died, provided that the population of Mundanes could support it, humanity would see a new Savant born in the near future. But in this, it was also discerned that once you were born, if you did not have the gifts, they could not be given to you.

Yet for all that they gleaned, humanity wanted more, and would not leave it alone. They had been manipulating and playing with genetics for centuries. Which is what led many to the hubris belief that it was exactly this that had created the Savants in the first place. And this was only reinforced when a combination of cybernetics, gene engineering and other advancements in neuroscience, allowed humanity an eventual and astounding breakthrough.

They figured out how to change the population correlation.

By augmenting the larger group of Mundanes through widespread implementation of certain cybernetics and gene engineering, they eventually reduced the need of a billion Mundanes for every one Savant, to a mere ten thousand.

In short order, humanity saw an explosion in the Savant population. And soon mankind returned to its old ways as entire armies of super powered beings came into existence.

But despite all the advancements made in both science and understanding, there were always limitations.

For Savants, it was no different.

Not all of their kind had the same mastery or capabilities. Most were telepaths of varying degrees, but there were those who could also master telekinesis, which had almost limitless applications.

But there was more.

Psychometabolism, a mastery over one’s own body. Many having the ability to shapeshift, physically adapt to environments, heal almost instantly and even reverse aging.

Yet there were even rarer talents.

Some could perceive space and time in a fashion that effectively gave clairsentience to the most gifted. The ability to see into the past, or future, or even other possibilities of existence.

And if all of this was not enough, newer cybernetic and bio-ware implants were continuously developed to augment almost any Savant’s discipline further.

To most however, even without these enhancements, a Savant appeared to be a person who had been touched by a God or they themselves were on the path to becoming one.

And it was this simple difference in ideology that broke humanity into a schism of multiple camps.

There were those who saw Savants as evolutionary beings on a path to Transcendence.

While others, typically more zealot in their beliefs, thought that Savants were the result of Immanence on this plain of existence.

Then there were those who perceived Savants as abominations of inequality. A new race that would cause elitism.

Because despite understanding the symbiosis, many Mundanes felt that they were comparatively Neanderthals, who eventually would be bred out of existence by the more advanced homo sapiens, the Savants.

And then there were Savants who did indeed see themselves superior, but were actually fearful that science would eventually destroy the gap of inequality. Possibly even remove Savants altogether.

However, amongst all the disparaging extremes, there were still those who sat somewhere in the middle. People who thought both Transcendence and Immanence were possible and that science had been a critical part in all that was, and was yet to be.

This was the philosophy held by Morrigan, the woman who now stood over two bodies of her own kind.

She had been a long time moderate, a long time.

But she knew that her ideology had become quite rare in the wake of all things.

Pulling back her cowl Morrigan exposed her helmet. Telemetry and readouts could be seen reflected on the glass inside her visor. The atmosphere registered green.

With the touch of her hand, the helmet peeled away in segments and hid itself inside her suit.

Tears rolled down her cheeks as she took a breath.

As critical as protection was, the suit always muffled a Savant’s extrasensory perceptions. Her mind reached out to her surroundings. The completeness of knowledge flooded in, and anger.

Immancers.

Still here, hiding, waiting.

The first attack came from behind.

He outweighed Morrigan by almost twice her body weight. Yet as her psi-blade tore out from under her cloak and impaled him to the wall, the force that struck him made his mass seem insubstantial. At the point of impact, the metal bulkhead behind him spidered with fractures, like glass. Despite the assailant’s best efforts to use his psionic talents to deal with the damage, he was killed almost instantly.

Simultaneously, a second attacker tried to remain hidden and struck at range. But his volley had stopped midair, quite far from its target, eventually dissipating into nothing. Before the shots had faded from sight though, Morrigan had responded in kind.

A stippling burst of psionic energy tore through the telekinetic barriers of her foe like metal flechettes tearing through paper. The multiple strikes perforated tissue throughout his lungs, forcing a coughed exhale of spit and blood.

He fell, but not dead. No. Purposely so, he was not dead yet.

Morrigan held him pinned to the floor, unable to move as she walked up to him.

The Immancer looked up at Morrigan in fear and rage. Between coughs of blood, “You are even more powerful than what they said, witch.”

Morrigan replied with almost pity and disappointment, “You have no idea.”

She could tell that the Immancer saw the statement as one of smug arrogance. She didn’t care.

“Do what you will heretic, I’ll tell you nothing more,” he sneered.

She simply turned a cold gaze onto him. “I don’t want you to tell me anything. It is your master that you will speak to next. Inform the Erudite that the end is approaching for us all, but it will find him sooner than the rest.”

Then the Immancer screamed when he felt his neurons turn to fire as her statement finished.

What happened next could only be described as the Immancer being consumed, his body turning to ash while his mind tore away like a solar flare, punching through the bulkheads, ripping into the atmosphere and out into space.

Morrigan activated her com-link to a ship in orbit, “Tannen.”

Tannen replied, “Morrigan, what was that? Are you okay?”

Morrigan, “I’m fine. But I need you to assemble the Elders. The Enclave must find haven for a time, as I will be leaving.”

Tannen, “But your pledge?”

Morrigan, with a hint of anger. “It still stands. I will help you find Exodus, all of you. But I must do something first.”

After a pause Tannen replied, “Understood. Are you sure you are okay?”

Morrigan, “I said I’m fine.”

But she was not.

This dead vessel, that somehow shared her name, had been used as a lure. As a result, it had become a family tomb.

When Morrigan had touched the locket, an imprinted psi-message had been discovered. It was instructions from her son to his own daughters.

“Cross back over. Find your Grandmother.”