Their biggest problem in this regard was going to be trusting whoever they worked with, as the incentive to sabotage or take control of the Acanti was high, just like the Brood had done, and technology, once put in place, could also be taken over by those with superior technology.

The only way to counter this was for them to understand technology and develop something of their own to counter it.

Maybe alchemically, maybe using the Sublime Chord, maybe magically, maybe psionically. They had a lot of power of their own, and even if it required a symbiotic relationship with another species, perhaps that was what they needed to ensure their survival?

I gave them a lot to think about, but as they devoured the burning carcasses of their own enslaved dead, and considered the massive corpse of their ancestor Right Over There showing them the consequences of not having strength on their own, the examples they had to consider were staring them in the face, and a new road was beckoning.

===========

It took them only four days to devour all the dead.

Every single Acanti in the pod was at least a kilometer long by the time they were done, even the ones as small as the Starsinger had been.

As for the Starsinger himself, he had been given preferential treatment and non-stop meals. Even the eldest members of the pod moved aside to let him feast, and he had grown impossibly fast as a result.

From barely fifty meters long he had ballooned to over a mile long, the size of some of the larger elders before this had all happened.

The largest elders were now nearly eight miles long, all of them at least having doubled in size.

The surrounding void was largely bereft of biomatter now. Even dead Brood, killed by vacuum, were sucked up like so much burning krill and fed into the maws of the Acanti. I was informed they were crunchy and their vivus had a unique prickly tang to it, probably indicating that the origin of their species was not native to this universe.

------

With two days to go to the coronation, the pod of now-massive Acanti formed up around the Starholder. Energy fields reached out, bound everyone together in Song. The whole pod and the Xandaran vessel accelerated very smoothly to FTL and entered hyperspace together.

The course the Acanti laid out in their Song was novel, and McCoy just hummed and went along with it. Hyperspace Course didn’t agree with it, until the slingshot effects suddenly came into play, and then the magic kind of spazzed, not able to compensate for the living modifications to the course.

I could feel the Acanti’s delight as they rode the slipstream of the Starholder. The ship was damn fast, and while the Acanti were not slow and were naturals at navigating hyperspace, they didn’t have the pure energy the ship did to get moving. Hooked into the drive shields and riding smoothly along with us, they were exulting in the sensation of speed even while we surfed through hyperspace far more smoothly than we had before.

“Doubling the hyperspace speed,” McCoy informed everyone, as the navigation display of hyperspace flowed past around us. The winding route somehow made sublime use of the gravity wells on the way, whipping us around and accelerating us on to our destination without requiring more power. “Just having an Acanti escort you through hyperspace would be worth so much money to freighters. The chance of being caught by pirates in hyperspace would drop like a rock. The routes are non-standard, evolving, and the speed increase is massive...”

“No wonder the Brood like to enslave them,” I replied, bringing him back down to reality. “If the Acanti could move faster, they’d be decent freighters themselves. Everyone is going to want an enslaved Acanti guide or fifty, now.”

His furry hands twitched, and he sighed. “Space is quite ruthless, Dynamo,” he replied over his shoulder.

“Yeah, you have that right.”

“Are there any problems with the Asgardian contingent?” Richard asked from the command chair. Most of the time he spent there he was actually reading and training with Mentor, so he didn’t get bored, and could snap back to reality quickly.

“No, they are already there and waiting for us. Dealer is impatient to get the rest of her supplies and start cooking,” I answered from my observation seat at one of the spare stations. I always had stuff to work on, and the Xandaran tech was a goldmine of ideas for stuff. “They are new to Shi’ar space, so I understand the traditional first thing to do is to undertake a proper pub crawl and sample all the many liquors available.”

“Didn’t Volstagg take like fifty kegs of different ice wines back to Asgard with him?” Peter asked from his station, where he was working through some very specific carbon nanotube configurations with special purposes, analyzing a whole lot of Brood tech we’d strangely found ourselves in possession of somehow.

“He’s a master brewer up in Asgard, runs a huge farm with his wife and kids,” Gwen answered from where she was helping Cindy with some programming while her comms were quiet. The telepathic Song of the Acanti was a pleasant thing to listen to, and most of the crew had their psi protection turned down so they could hear it. “He got talking to some of the people delivering booze for the aliens on the Colosseum, and really wanted to try some different ideas out.”

On their end, the Acanti were always amazed at the energy and drive shown by our little minds, and were watching us all in fascination at all the stuff on the small levels we were doing.

Lots of small levels made big levels. It was how the Brood enslaved them and made them bioships, after all. The Acanti were finally taking the lesson to heart.

“Are we even ready fer Asgardian wines? I think there’s a reason they don’t export godly food and drink ta the mortal realm...” Ben commented from the pilot’s chair.

“I’ve had Asgardian food and drink, at a feast in Odin’s own hall,” I informed them all, and had everyone’s attention. “They prefer simple stuff, but simple stuff done to perfection. You all know what Quality Level is... well, the worst of Asgardian stuff is QL 30, and that is considered beginner’s work. Someone like Volstagg is churning out QL 40 stuff without problem if he’s what Asgardian’s call a Master at his trade.

“If you wonder why they are more impressed by mortal styles and presentation than by the taste, that’s why. You really want to impress them, you have to mix alchemy into your cooking, which is something they don’t do.

“Generally speaking, the very best of Terran food and drink doesn’t get beyond a 30. They try not to be condescending, but it’s like a little kid giving you their first malformed cookie and expecting praise for their great efforts making it.”

“I sometimes have problems boiling rice the right way,” Cindy muttered into the quiet.

“That sounds like a wonderful challenge to inspire some mortal chefs. Trying to actually please an Asgardian sitting down at their table...” Peggy Carter spoke up, still ceaselessly paying attention to scans from both the Starholder and the Acanti even as she conversed.

“Can you do it, Dynamo?” Gwen piped up. “I know you’re a good cook...”

“If I can use alchemy, sure. I can make combicha, just like Dealer.” Technically, it was the other way around... “Asgardians have simple fare, so you start putting in exotic spices and new tastes, you can really wow them. It’s just that they do the simple stuff so well, it is very hard to impress them with basics at all. A lot of Oriental dishes are like that. The Asgardians do make rice, and so even with the new spices and sauces and vegetables and stuff, the fact our rice can’t compare to theirs shoots down a lot of the cuisine from there.”

“And stuff that roils their immortal guts really impresses ‘em,” Ben contributed with a chuckle. “Shoulda seen ‘em dying not to be the first to grab that milk.” Everyone chuckled at the memory.

“I’m sure they are going to be going for a higher grade. Volstagg has talked about taking a year or two on the Colosseum just so he can work his way up to Combicha Seven...”

“Maybe he could lose a ton or two of weight?” Cyclops spoke up from his Gunnery station. He had little to do other than run shooting simulations... which he was sharing with the Acanti, who were proving to be very adept students.

“It’s definitely the place to get in a lot of exercise,” I agreed, “and he’d definitely keep the other Asgardians on their boisterous toes.”

“If he goes there, it means that Fandral and Hogun probably will as well...

“Nuh-uh. Dealer pointedly said that Fandral should go looking for lessons from Sama or one of her students, and Hogun should be seeking out Hercules. If the Warriors Three need to split up for a time, what’s a year or a decade to one of them?” I corrected them. “Maybe after some real lessons they can go up into the Colosseum for some other pointers.”

“Fandral probably wants a rematch with MJ,” Cindy muttered under her breath, pronouncing the name as Emya as the Colosseum people had, but most everyone heard her anyways.

“Who was invited along and accepted, oddly enough...” I answered after the quiet chuckles went down.

“The Shi’ar love their plasma swords,” muttered Peggy knowingly. “There are probably swordmasters from across the Imperium lining up for a friendly duel with her...”

“They are so not going to like it when she schools them all,” Gwen sniggered, and the rest of us laughed, too.

“Seven Dragons swordplay is going intergalactic!” Hank McCoy mused.

“Mom doesn’t like teaching classes of students, she leaves that for her advanced students. I think MJ is the last personal student she took. She might actually take Fandral if he comes humbly enough...” Kismet piped up, taking her own break on the bridge, mostly because I was there and she didn’t have to worry about gazer beams as much, haplessly attractive as she was.

“I may be intruding, young lady of aurum, but are you a swordswoman, considering who your mother is?” Hank asked over his shoulder, from where he was splitting time between navigating and looking over Ebersol’s doctorate submission with a fine-tooth comb.

“No,” she pouted. “Mother said I was too strong and powerful to need to use a sword, and it was a waste of time. Then she cuts spaceships in two and halves a Celestial!”

I sighed, and closed down everything I was working on. “So, in other words, your needle beamer skills are nowhere near what your mother would find acceptable?” I asked her archly.

She blinked her golden eyes in surprise. “I, uh, ohhh...” she murmured, trailing off. “Uh, no, I don’t think so...” she admitted in a smaller voice.

“Riiight. Cyke, up for some impromptu shooting?” I asked him.

He glanced at Peggy, who waved him off the Gunnery station absently, and then at Richard, who waved at him in dismissal. “Mind if Jewel and I join in?” Richard asked, rising to his feet.

“The more the merrier.”

“Peggy, you have the bridge.”

“Yes, sir!” she replied smartly, moving smoothly to take the chair as he headed out with us.

I told the Acanti to clear a firing arc out of the starboard hangar doors. Very interested in the energy focusing that was about to take place, they shifted and adjusted their formation so nobody was in the cone, and we headed down the central tube to get some practice in.

Me included, of course. Rich had his uniform to help him, but it couldn’t do anything but help to be able to enhance his Nova blast on his own, too, and needle and saber beams were not a part of standard Nova Corps tactics.

Us Terrans, always with the wild and crazy versatility of tactics...