See Jelly Run (Pilgrim Vessel

(Yesterday night...)

In a personal habitation pod aboard an undersized transport, a hanar was making friends. Not with anyone else aboard - he knew them already - but with his fellow posters on CDN. Many if not all of those posters would be quite surprised to hear that they were now "friends", if they'd noticed Laykalar at all, but in the somewhat warped perception of the young hanar, crossing paths on the same extranet forum was all it took. He was exploring the galaxy now, and in his enthusiasm little things like reality weren't going to get in the way.

*****

Laykalar shifted his body mass ever so slightly, easing out tension. He was restless. Not due to any sense of dissatisfaction; no, he was very pleased with how things were going. True, the extranet was no substitute for true immersion, but as for the moment, it was more than enough to satisfy his need for education. Even the most perspicacious of hanar could find intriguing new perspectives via CDN, and for an acolyte like himself, it was quite the education. So much to think over, so much to learn!

Yes, it had been a pleasing day, light in substance but strong in expectation and potential. He was making progress, weaving a framework on which greater and more rewarding relationships could eventually be hung. That sense of satisfaction, though, only left him eager for greater progress. He was close now, and he desired to be closer.

Laykalar turned and moved towards the pod's single entrance, intending to travel to the inner sanctum, perhaps determine if an update had been made regarding the ship's schedule. As he drifted, he continued to bask in his sense of satisfaction. He would access the notes he'd made later, seeking opportunity for further avenues of study. Not only had posters proven insightful and friendly -- in their own, disorganized alien manner -- but one had even started a thread specifically inquiring after others' experience of faith! A forum for discussion of religion had been created, broad in its focus and undoubtedly engendering a climate suitable for many new currents of meaning. Perhaps he had even found an ideological fellow on the board; an individual of the batarian species had expressed the opinion that Laykalar's purpose seemed similar to -- his? hers? Laykalar realized he didn't know, and according to Tathissyl other races could be sensitive about these things, more so than hanar. Asking upfront might be discourteous. He would have to find out, discreetly. Future exchanges with the batarian seemed likely.

Laykalar had known as soon as that thread was posted that he'd indeed made the right choice regarding extranet launching points for his study of the Many Voices. He allowed himself a slight shiver of self-regard. Some of the Elders, most notably Tathissyl, had warned against his decision. Anything with the undercurrent of rhetorical exclusivity suggested by the name of Cerberus was not a suitable touching point for an acolyte. Laykalar, though, had determined quickly that this was precisely what he was looking for. The Elders, most learned and wise as they were, were overlooking one of the truest avenues into the Many Voices.

The "Greater Encompassing" had left Kahje some time ago, but relay traffic to and from the home cluster was still carefully controlled; there was enough chaos both here and in the wider galaxy that nobody needed random transports released to zip around without purpose. A small ship of pilgrims, many of whom had no actual skill or purpose save a desire to further the spiritual growth of the hanar people, was hardly priority traffic in the eyes of greater Citadel Space. Some had thought Laykalar would be unable to tolerate the delay. Indeed, Umpassalo had offered the proposition that, "the other will grow increasingly impatient, and subsequently prove disruptive to the genuine scholarly efforts of this one and her esteemed co-debaters". Firmly, Laykalar reflected that this had not proven to be so. Since as early as he could remember, he had looked to the stars. While other hanar dutifully applied themselves to the customs and structures of their local sects (and, if the sects were broad-minded enough, to the Primacy as a whole), Laykalar had yearned to float free. With the great swirling seascape of the galaxy growing ever more proximal, in time if not always in space, Laykalar could wait with restraint, knowing he rested in a current that drew him closer to the life he yearned for.

That didn't mean he wasn't eager to get to his destination.

Reminding himself to inquire of his elders regarding the deity known as "the Fuckwit", details of which still eluded him despite several attempts to learn more, Laykalar entered the inner sanctum. The "Greater Encompassing" was not a large ship; if it were, the Primacy would likely have nationalized its services and none of them would be here. For now, only Jasthe was present in the sanctum; Laykalar's bubble of contentment deflated ever so slightly.

"This one acknowledges the Learned Elder, and inquires as to updates regarding relay travel?"

"The other may find assurance in the recent re-estimation of the vessel's timetable. Such information is distributed as and when a second timetable - that of the learned ones who further the general goals of the Finding - permits it to be. A general notice will be posted when appropriate. The other may resume its dalliance with generally unstable denizens of the extranet".

So. They might be getting somewhere soon. Pleasing. Laykalar expressed his thanks to the Learned Elder with correct decorum before withdrawing himself to his pod, where he took a moment to settle his thoughts.

The moment stretched on.

After a while, he removed a travel pack and opened it, revealing a toy Nokatok made of shells and plastics. He cradled it slightly within his tentacles. Sometimes he wondered how many of these Nokatok remained. The Banks of the Zaythanal Formation, where he had been born and educated, had been lost during the Siege. Most everyone he knew had been killed. If he were an alien, or even most other hanar, this might have been crippling, but Laykalar's soul name referenced a truth that made his perspective...somewhat different.

Many of the galaxy's species had a limited range of vision when compared to hanar - they would be terrible at Sarophan'tialamenus even without their limited grasp of multi-tiered argument! Because of their selective visual range, they often spoke of "looking back", regarding the time of memory as located rearward of their person, in a position they couldn't visualize unless they chose to, by turning deliberately to look at it. It was somewhat contradictory, Laykalar noted, given that they also called this time the "before", suggesting it was, in fact, in front of them, within their natural field of vision. He resisted the urge to write off the asaroid races as simply confused, for that was unworthy of one who knew the wisdom found in examination of other cultures. Instead, he believed the aliens were in the act of hiding their more troubled memories wherever possible, shunting them to the metaphorical rear where they couldn't be "seen", leaving the way forward populated only by the pleasing matters, the life experiences that shaped them and informed their capacity to embrace life as they travelled through it. Yet they couldn't resist turning to see those bad memories they'd hidden, choosing to search for them like those watching with interest the bloody aftermath of a vehicle collision. Looking back.

On the whole, Laykalar did not "look back". What came before was gone. Instead he "looked forward", pushing free through the swell, unmoored, finally living up in full to his soul name. And he took the better part of his experiences, and the positive force of his character, with him, for the wonder that had defined his polyphood informed him still. It was all for the best, he knew. A plant with a holdfast could not explore the waters; it was the drifters that found the greater truths, that would come, in time, to understand the entire encompassing. He was a drifter now, and that had given him a sense of purpose he had thought he would never know. Truly it was uncertain where the waves would toss you! Soon enough, he'd be at the Citadel. He'd find that hanar restaurant and seek out an audience with the many fascinating beings who passed through. He'd continue to build on his understanding of the greater truths and each day would be a joy. No looking back. And yet he cradled a Nokatok in his tentacles, just for a moment.

He couldn't help but recall a comment made in response to one of his first extranet posts - "everyone lies, even hanar". He reassured himself he wasn't lying. After all, was not it written in Tiyallania's "Argument For These Ones' Susceptibility Regarding The Cooling Touch Of The Breeze" that even the most faithful faltered sometimes? That was just a normal part of anyone's hanarity, not to be viewed as a problem. No. And he could hardly feel deflated when so much excitement attended him in these times of wonder! Reassured once more, he placed the Nokatok back in the travel bag, and returned to the extranet.

But he kept the bag close, all the same.