Scales Lie Stars

Bex Thresh, of the Singularity Principalities, knelt low and touched his snout to the obsidian floor of the Pulsar Castle of House Xosh's freehold. His palms spread and despite hardening his scales for the kick, the impact of the Bryaugh bruiser that stood to the left of him still felt like being hammered by a gravity-drill. Bex rolled and tumbled, then came to a stop. He clutched at the place where his scales had been fractured and broken and gasped in ragged pain as he tried to regenerate as quickly as he could.

"Explain again," the dark voice that came from the Neutron Throne sounded like a mountain grinding against another mountain. The dragon perched there was remarkably skinny and angular for a blue - his elbow spikes had grown long and he had let his forehead plates extend upwards and outwards, flaring into something more akin to a ceremonial headdress than a normal crest. His body was clad in nothing, save for a single glittering ring with a pale emerald set in the center of the swirling quark-soup that had been hammered into a solid shape.

"I..." Bex closed his eyes. "I lost the control egg, Lord Xosh..."

"In a game," Lord Xosh said, quietly, his thumb claw rasping around the emerald on his ring.

"I thought-"

"You

didn't

," Xosh snarled, thrusting his finger at Bex. The Bryaugh bruiser that was the only other person in the throne room stepped forward, his claws clacking on the ground. His hands grabbed onto Bex's shoulders and he hauled the other dragon to his knees, then slammed his knee into Bex's jaw, before punching downward. The impact sent Bex sprawling and his teeth scattering across the obsidian floor. Blood dripped - and where it fell, eldritch runes flared to life for a moment, before fading. "You bullied ahead and thought that a basic understanding of Hackmaster rules would let you just slaughter your way to victory. You couldn't even play to your

fucking

alignment, you-"

The bruiser kicked Bex in the belly, managing to match the timing of his master's words to a T.

"-fucking-"

Thump

.

"-red-"

Thump

.

"-idiot!"

The last blow was hard enough to send Bex skidding backwards, almost bowling him into his half-sister. Gimtesh stood perfectly still, her eyes wide as saucers.

Lord Xosh rubbed his jaw with one finger. "Did you try to dissuade him, Gimtesh?" he asked.

"Of course, m'lord!" Gimtesh said, bowing low. "But Bex

never

listens."

"Oh, he listens," Lord Xosh said, grinning slowly. His teeth glittered. "That was why we wanted him on the Prismatic Throne, married to the last survivor of House Castrovel, to the only breedable feathered dragon in the galaxy. Those who sit atop that throne tend to be...targets. And I've not lived this long by drawing

targets

on my chest, Gimmy." He paused. "May I call you Gimmy?"

Gimmy nodded, quickly.

"You have one chance to save your brother's life," Lord Xosh said.

"Oh, fuck him!" Gimtesh said, quickly. "He's a shithead!"

Lord Xosh blinked. Then he shrugged, spreading his hand.

"No, no!" Bex gasped as the bruiser stepped up. The black dragon lifted his arm - and unfolded a sleek silvery blade from his forearm. It was unlike anything that a dragon had demonstrated before. For the black dragon wasn't simply a black dragon. His outer layer of skin and muscle and bone were actually the genetically engineered muscles and skin and bone of a

second

dragon, with its mind blanked and slaved to his own. He merely needed to

think

and activate his favored weapon.

Unfortunately for Bex...

The shrike catapult was neither swift...

Nor painless.

Gimtesh walked out of the throne room and into the corridors leading to it, her back ramrod stiff. Her servants - tongueless and meek - moved to follow her. She snapped a pair of fingers and a silvery orb flew up from behind her. She snarled to it.

"Go and tell my crew. Prep the ship. And tell my arms-master..." she looked directly at the orb. "Get guns. And get nukes. Lots and

lots

of nukes."

***

The

Talon-9

floated in a sea of pure blackness. No. Blackness implied a substance, a possibility. Black is a color - a color of beauty and profundity and terror. Black had a soul. The

Talon-9

didn't float upon anything nearly so comforting. But a human mind is an astounding thing. It could withstand shocks that other minds would reel away from and retreat into madness and insanity. A human mind could be told:

Hey, your planet is about fifty years away from choking to death on some horrifying bad thing

and respond with...

Hey.

"At least we have

Rick and Morty

!"

"What?" Merton looked at Carlos.

The other man was waddling along the hull of the

Talon-9

, his space-suit as uncomfortable and ill fitting as any piece of clothes that Carlos had ever worn in his life. His left arm was splayed outwards, to keep the supplies that they had been given by Speccy tucked up against his chest. His right was fastened to the grapnels that the

Talon-9

had helpfully extruded to help them walk around. Meanwhile, Merton was dressed in his skinclothes, which responded to minor magical impulses like a collection of the world's most helpful puppies, giving him a spacesuit that he could move around in with as much ease as his T-shirt and jeans.

"I was just saying," Carlos said, puffing as he dragged himself up to stand on one of the flanges that spread outwards from the upper right 'shoulder' of the

Talon-9

. It was the part of the ship where one of the whale-fin "wings" that spread around the engine connected to the normal hull. It was also where one of the literally hundreds of railgun shots that had been fired at them during their space battle with the Ousters had managed to slip past the portal whipple shields and hit the hull. Carlos panted for a few more minutes. "I was just saying...the TV reception is great for the fact we're floating in the fucking plane of negative energy."

Merton laughed.

The

Talon-9

had used its defensive portal technology to save the whole ship from a legion of psychopathic black dragons wearing genetically engineered power armor suits - and Merton had called out the first plane that had sprung into his brain as being a place that they might avoid detection and attack.

That place?

The plane of negative energy.

The multiverse, as described by David "Zeb" Cook (the original author of the D&D Planescape setting), was split into three rough areas. The first was the prime material plane. That included the galaxy, Earth, the Five Talon Empire, and so on. The second were the 'outer' planes, where heaven, hell, and various afterlives supposedly lived. The third were the 'inner' planes, where the fundamental forces of the cosmos waited to be used. These included the elemental planes (fire, earth, water, air), the paraelemental planes (which was the fancy term for where two elements made out and had freak babies.)

Then there were the energy planes.

Positive energy, which powered all life.

And negative energy.

Which...

Duh.

"Speccy says we're getting feeds from the whole galaxy. The attack on House Yeltanzo is lighting up all the bands. Imperial Legions are mobilizing." Merton took one of the armor sheets from Carlos. "And we're stuck out here until we fix this ship up."

"Right," Carlos said, then turned, looking out at the vastness surrounding them. "It does creep me the fuck out."

"Which puts humans one step above everyone but the dragons," Merton said as he laid the armor plating down. The rectangle of hardened adamantine started to unfold as magic worked itself into the skin of the ship. The replacement hull plating slipped into the jagged line of damage and started to glow with a brilliant heat that was nearly comforting when compared to the vastness of the plane of negation.

"Hi!"

The voice that called to the two humans didn't come through their space suited helmets. It echoed through the plane of negation as if it was just an ordinary room. Brash flew by the two of them, carrying one of the replacement components that Speccy claimed was needed to get the

Talon-9

ready to fight another space battle. Carlos waved. But once Brash had dipped behind the ship, he turned to face Merton, then leaned forward. Their space-suit helmets clicked together as Carlos turned off the radio.

If you shouted in a helmet, you could be heard through the vibration of plastic and glass. And if your radio was off, it made for a nice and private conversation.

"So, are we going to talk about the fact that Planescape is real?"

"Not sure what there is to talk about," Merton said. "We've got nothing to

say

beyond 'gee, that's fucking weird.'"

"Yeah, but...like, it's fucking

weird

!" Carlos said, his chubby cheeks shining with persperation that might have only half been the struggle of moving around adamantine hull plates in an ill fitting space suit.

"Okay, here's my current theory," Merton said. "Dragons learn stuff psychically, right? Maybe they broadcast it too, and the human race has been picking it up?"

"Why has no one else picked it up?" Carlos asked.

"We don't know that they haven't. Every other race we've run into has either been magic, which might fuck with the reception, or they've been enslaved by the FTE long enough to have their original culture buried underneath the draconic one." Merton shrugged, then stepped over to the damaged part of hull. It had gone from white to red hot, and as he watched, even that heat faded, leaving a perfect patch-job. He gently patted it with the toe of his boot, to ensure that the material was hardened properly. He grunted, then flicked on his radio. "Okay, that's one hole patched. How many more do we got, Spe, er, uh-"

"Two more," she said. "And I...am given to understand by Princess Relix that-"

"-piece of murder fuck shit crap damn tail eating scale rotting-"

Relix's voice was filled with more anger and fury than Merton had ever heard in his entire marriage.

"-that I am to accept you calling me...Speccy..." Speccy sounded less than pleased.

"Awesome, Speccy," Carlos said.

"I better check on the waifu," Merton said.

"Don't you FUCKING DARE CALL ME THAT!" Relix's voice boomed over the radio.

"Sorry, snoogums," Merton said, grinning as he demagged his boots, kicked off the ship, then turned on the cold-jet thrusters on the back of his suit. He skimmed along the ship, leaving Carlos behind, holding the other armor plates. It wasn't until he was nearly at the snout of the

Talon-9

that Carlos realized Merton had left him with the hard job of lugging those plates around and started to shake his fist after him.

When Merton cleared the nose of his ship, he found his wife floating next to one of the exposed railgun barrels that she was trying to fix. A collection of parts were floating around her, glittering like stars in the light shining from the front of the

Talon-9's

bridge, and she was using a wrench to try and undo a screw. Her muscles bulged as she gritted her teeth, braced her clawed feet against the hull, then strained even harder. Merton put his palm against the ship to slow himself down, and felt the low

groan

of stressing metal.

"This railgun shall

bow

before me!" Relix snarled.

"Honey, honey!" Merton started. "It's-"

In the three way battle between Relix, the wrench, and the bolt she was working on, the wrench surrendered first. It bent with a squeal Merton could hear through his palms and the sudden relaxing of pressure sent Relix flipping back into space.

"-righty tighty," Merton groaned. "Lefty loosy."

Relix beat her wings, demonstrating why this place wasn't a true vacuum, and flew back into the nose of the ship, where she wrenched the wrench free and started to shake it. "Traitor!"

Merton pushed himself down to float beside her, putting his hands on her shoulders. He pressed his space-suited helmet against her ear and whispered. "You do know that you don't need to help, right?" His voice was soft, and it made her tense up as she lowered the wrench down, letting it fall from her fingers. Which meant it started to float away from the ship, gently carried away on the invisible forces that seemed to determine the drift in this place.

"I know," she whispered, her voice husky. "But...I'm not just a spoiled space princess. I

can

help. If Brash can help, I can help."

"Brash seems to be preprogrammed with the engineering data on a worrying number of weapons," Merton said, smiling as he squeezed her shoulders. "You, meanwhile, spent most of your youth learning magic and politicing and stuff."

"Mostly dance," she said, quietly.

"What?" Merton blinked.

"Dad's been on my tail-scales since I came of age to attract a mate, honestly," she said, shrugging as she glared at the bolt that had forced her wrench to surrender. "It was kind of weird, never really figured out why."

"We'll ask him," Merton said.

A faint

thump thump thump

that he could feel through the soles of his boots made Merton look up. Up meant looking at the upside-down face of Lisa, because

space

. Lisa was on the bridge of the

Talon-9

, and Gunner had activated the forward window screen now that the battle had finished. Technically, Lisa was a few demiplanes away from the skin of the ship, but thanks to the magic of portals and advanced visual projections, she looked as if she was right there for Merton to talk too.

"You're not going to fucking believe this," she said, her voice firm over the radio.

"What?" Relix asked, looking up, her eyes narrowing.

"We've detected something on wide-band scrying," Lisa said. "We confirmed it with the telescopes and LIDAR. It's..." she made a face. "It's a

castle

."

"You gotta be

fucking

kidding," Merton whispered. Then he swung his head around. He was getting the hang of asking his skin-suit to do something. But even so, it took a few tries to get a vision enhancing augment online. It zoomed in on the infinite blackness that wasn't blackness and, there, on the edge of vision, he could see a grayish spec. It was definitely coming slowly closer.

"What is it?" Relix asked. "I was told nothing can survive in this plane. We're only alive because of our reactor..."

"It's..." Merton paused. "It's..."

"What?" Brash asked, alighting on his shoulder. "Is it candy!?"

Merton scooped Brash into his arms and started to rub his belly. The tiny dragon immediately forgot all questions and started to bat at his fingers while giggling.

"It's the Fortress of Regrets," Merton said, looking at Relix.

***

A light brighter than the sun exploded into being. It cast shadows both jagged and curved with the starkness that only a truly bright light could perform. Dust swirled in the sudden heat-vortexes created where that point of brightness appeared. Then the point swept in a circle about a meter wide. Once it was finished, a muffled conversation could be heard.

"Can I knock?" A youthful voice.

"It's not a d-" A gruff, clicking voice.

"Knock knock!"

The hammering

booms

that filled the Fortress of Regrets echoed off of the walls with such force that they almost obscured the

crash

of the wall falling inwards. Brash the Dragon hopped onto the center of the meter wide circle, saying: "A candy gram made of actual candy who also has sex with you named Pinkie Pie!"

"I told you you shouldn't have shown him e621," Carlos said.

"Who showed him e621!?" Lisa shouted from behind Gunner and his two armsmen, who hurried forward into the fortress, their laser rifles at the ready, sweeping them about to cover the large chamber that they had cut into.

"What's e621?" Brash asked, then cocked his head. His eyes

whirred

and he went. "Ooooooh!" Then he paused. "Why bother looking at cuckoldry pictures if you're just gonna

complain

about it? Also, blacklisted! Blacklisted! Blacklisted..."

"What's he doing?" Trevor asked, stepping onto the door with Merton.

"He's blacklisting kinks," Merton said. By now, he was actually pretty used to Brash's thought processes. It went candy, snuggles, pets, sex, roughly. The rest of the group stepped in. Thanks to the Ouster attack, the

Talon-9

was really low on armsmen. That was why Gunner, despite his grumbling, had given impact armor and laser rifles to Trevor, Lisa, and Carlos. Of the three, Lisa was the only one who should really have been given a gun, which was why she was covering their asses. Relix brushed some dust off her cufflinks as she swept into the Fortress of Regrets.

The first chamber they had cut into was clearly an entrance. It was a hall, grand and alien in its design. Several 'statues' loomed throughout the area: Jagged and snarled looking things that looked more like energy cannons than anything decorative. Their barrels aimed into the ceiling or at one another. There were broad stairs that swept up towards landings that loomed almost twenty feet higher than the rest of the chamber, while broad doors made of metal thorns and flowing quicksilver were set into frames studded with black gemstones. The entire place was only illuminated by the circles of light that spilled from their laser rifles - giving everything a jagged, half finished look to it as the pools of light swept here, there, everywhere.

"What

is

this place?" Relix asked.

"Uh, if my information is right, a solidified fortress made purely out of the regrets of a very bad man," Merton said.

"And how would

you

have information?" Relix asked, narrowing her eyes slightly. "Your people are mage blind. You don't even fly in space."

Merton licked his lips. Carlos and the others had every reason to not trust Relix, or any dragon. She had kidnapped them after all. He looked at Julia, to see what she thought. His girlfriend was leading up the rear with a four legged hamper that followed after her. She was holding a tablet in one hand and what appeared to be a plastic wand in the other. Merton was about to ask before she said: "We're honestly not sure, Princess."

Relix crossed her arms over her chest. "Fine, give your suspicions."

Merton sighed. His hands slid into his pockets and he shrugged. "Human culture seems to have...guessed...a lot of what is going on in the galaxy. The split between prismatic and metallic. The existence of this place. The layout of the Planes, if not their exact names." He pulled out his hand, waving it at the castle for emphasis. Then his hand went right back into his pockets. "I think that humans are picking up some psychic backwash from dragons. Like, a side effect of how you learn."

"That's not possible."

Speccy had entered. She had her own four legged hamper following her, and was holding up something that looked like a rectangle with a glowing crystal orb set into the middle of a hole cut into it. She held it up like a Nintendo Switch and started to look through the crystal orb at the surroundings. "Dragon learning," she continued. "Stops after they hatch."

"Maybe Earth sits on a ley-line," Trevor said, shrugging.

Merton looked at his most taciturn friend.

Trevor shrugged again. "Hey, if Planescape is true, Rifts might be."

"God, I hope not," Lisa said, shuddering.

Speccy lowered her device. "This place is clean. If anything lived here, it stopped a long time ago. I'm detecting several purely arcane portals linking to the Outer and Inner planes, though. Give me a day, maybe two? I can re-target them."

"We can go home!" Lisa said, her eyes widening.

"Those portals are connecting right to House Castrovel holdings, their allies, and the Prismatic Throne," Speccy said, her voice firm. "We have to get the warning to the Imperial House

immediately

that the attack on Yelnatzo was no pirate raid, no exterior invasion, but treachery."