Revan Part II- Cont., the storm on Nirm has.... Options

[Lord Revan]

The Archives have been updated, just some info on psychic focus and magnitude (explaination of psychic powers).
------

He stopped to evaluate the progress of his craftsmanship. Revan had completed his helmet, the cuirass, pauldrons, and gauntlets of his new armor in this short time.

The helmet remained largely unchanged, its visor covered slightly less area though, but Revan was confident he could fight just as well with narrowed vision.
His cuirass was thicker all around than his former one. The parts of his torso that needed to move without restraint were protected by overlapping segments of a refined sapphire-like substance. A chunk of cobalt focusing crystal lay above where the wearer’s sternum would be.

The pauldrons resembled those of Dunmer chitin. Two small crystal fragments were embedded in identical slots that Revan had carved into them.
Another pass-over from his old armor was the gauntlet design, with a few exceptions. Like the pauldrons, both gauntlets had common focusing crystals integrated. Revan had lost his energy blades in the explosion; he hoped learn from that lesson and utilize the High Naryyn technique. I am half High Naryyn after all… He thought dryly.

The completed pieces lay neatly arranged on the floor beside him. Now that he’d stopped, Revan realized that he had not eaten in..... quite awhile.
“So, this is where you’ve been.” Rhys said as she sat down next to him.

Revan set down the yet-to-be-finished greaves. “I apologize for leaving you in bed, but I needed to do something constructive and you needed the rest.”

She glared at him theatrically, “And you don’t?” Striking him playfully in the chest, Rhys teased. “Who’s braver? The people in fancy armor or those that fight without it?”

“Don’t tempt me to prove you wrong, Rhys.” Revan replied with a smile on his face. “Or you might just run out of luck.”

Her own face adorned by the same expression. “You couldn’t touch me, let alone beat me in a fight.”
“Is that a challenge?” He asked as he stood up. “Because, I’ll take you up on that..... after I get something to eat.”

Rhys got up as well, “I won’t go easy on you just because you happen to be my friend, Ahtre’Mehrah.”

Rhys....

The Hvy. Destroyer Emphatic Judgment sat just outside the borders of Sadrith Mora. The capital-class ship dwarfed the Telvaani town beside it.

Rhys’ eyes wandered a bit, having only been to House Telvaani’s domain briefly before now, their distinct traits were still new to her.
Revan paid more attention to the sky and its occupants. Several frigates, destroyers and High Naryyn missile frigates patrolled the nearby airspace.

A small squad of interceptors was visible, swooping low over the sea in close formation. “Since you seem to know this place better, perhaps you should lead."
"Fair enough, though I believe non-Telvaani still require Hospitality Papers..."

"We're just two exceptions, that along with a couple dozen more won't drive some Telvaani lord nuts." She joked lightly.
"Believe me, some Telvaani are nuts to begin with. But that doesn't make them less interesting." Revan said in a tone that told he knew all too well.

The two noticed a gathering of Virtarak around a certain localation: the Sadrith Mora Slave Market. While being some distance from the gathering, Rhys could feel the mood. She promptly closed herself from the powerful emotions.

Revan extended his mental probe, taking in every element of the scene. "This isn't good." He muttured, before marching toward the spectacle.
Rhys followed, knowing what her companion meant. The Virtarak crowd was not armed, which was good, but they were displaying their views on the trade of "inferior races." The mob would advance, leap back in unison, and then advance further, all the while hissing threatening at the Telvaani guards.

As Revan approached the flock from behind, several broke off rapidly to scoop up their discarded weapons. Seeing this, he lashed out, causing said weapons to launch into the air. The Virtarak skidded to a halt, mid-sprint, making ready to leap after the flying rifles.

Rhys didn't want this to become violent anymore than Revan did. She projected her thoughts to the avian aliens. "Fighting isn't going to do any good; it will only give us more enemies when we need only one!"

The mob came to an abrupt halt in their cycle, their heads scanned the area for the speaker. When they noticed the two of them, one thought became very apparent. "This can not continue, but for now we shall stand down in our defense, Naryyn."

All Virtarak cleared out, leaving the only occupants as the Telvaani guards and the two Naryyn. The former appeared to be confused as to the sudden withdrawl. As Rhys and Revan walked past them to Wolverine Hall, Revan said to one of the guards. "A word of warning: don't be around here for the next few weeks; if you want not to be the target of the Virtaraks' fury."

The guards said nothing, so both moved on. "Do you think the Virtarak really will resort to violence?"
"Anything is possible," he replied. "We can only read the scroll, not rewrite it."

Both were silent until, Rhys muttured. "Some scuttle and saltrice would be really good right now."
Revan nodded, "Same here. Hopefully, there will be a buffet and no pay required..... otherwise we could just make some food go missing."

[Lord Revan]

“Master Norik!” The envoy stirred and opened his eyes, realizing he’d fallen asleep. Hastily, he composed himself, replacing his seal of office and making sure his crimson clothes of rank were in presentable condition.

Dismissing the lingering exhaustion, Norik opened the entrance to his quarters, a young non-combatant in and upper-class suit stood in the hallway.
He nodded to Liara Brant, one of the five news personnel in the fleet. As an embedded reporter, Liara spent most of her time safe within the heart of a powerful warship like the Dominance.

Liara’s features were mostly plain; she was petite by Naryyn standards, by generic humanoid scale, the journalist was average height.
Like her five fellow newsman and women, she was escorted about by a low-ranking MP. The aforementioned officer faced away from them, decked out in light security armor and armed with a low-energy firearm.

The journalist wiped a loose strand of cyan colored hair back past her ear. “Sorry to bother you, sir, but some things have come u-“
Commander Ankrus said through the intercom. “Envoy, you need get to the bridge ASAP.”

Liara crossed her arms and muttered, “I tell him I’ll get you and as soon as I get to you, he tells you himself. Makes ordering me around seem pointless to any sane individual.”

Norik didn’t respond to the journalist’s monologue, and ignored the frustrated continuation as they made their way to the bridge.

--------

When they arrived on the bridge, Ankrus was hunched over the main holo-projector. The commander did not acknowledge their presence until Norik took a position to his left in order to study the display.
“We just received this intel from the Armet’s AI, that free-roaming copy to be precise.” Ankrus explained, not taking his eyes of the image to regard the envoy or Liara Brant.

A holographic Plys’Iea gunship and starfighter hung closest, statistics and some cut-away images of their weapons. Then, behind them, there were Plys’Iea warships, battle cruisers, destroyers, and long list of attached files.
Beneath the fighters, a unique mobile armor walked, galloped, and crawled across an imaginary landscape.

Before Norik could say anything, Ankrus said. “There is more than that intelligence.” The commander gestured to the junior officer nearby and the holograms changed, showing Iso Naryyn vessels.
“The AI was able to bridge the gap between Xaries’ fleet and our own combat net. We don’t have any information on the warships and fighters themselves, by design or mistake, no one in the combined fleet has logged any relevant data on the Iso Naryyn.”

Ankrus continued, “From the fleet’s recent movements, we can assume their preparing for an offensive; the Plys’Iea are the most obvious target, but we can’t put it past them to try and hit us if we don’t stay sharp.”

Ms. Brant chimed in at this point. “When was the last attempt to communicate with the combined fleet? Back when the Ascendant and three warships appeared to offer assistance, since then?”

Norik already knew the answer, so did Liara, but the newswoman asked anyway. Commander Ankrus clearly understood the rhetorical nature of the question. “Not until now, the admiral has decided to send a passive message to Commander Xaries, and by extension, the Iso Naryyn leader, Lord Arastus.”

“The message shouldn’t be hard to miss, all they need to do is send a reply and we’ll know they’re willing to speak with us. Although, what the Admiral put in the message is unknown, to all of us.” The last sentence left Norik skeptical, but he didn’t raise his concern.

“Ma’am, you have enough to make a report, you’re free to leave.” Ankrus said, Liara glared indignantly at the commander, resenting the obvious dismissal.
As the journalist and her escort left, Norik followed Ankrus silently to the reasonably unoccupied fore of the Dominance’s bridge.

“Envoy,” the commander began, stopping to look out the view port and the fleet around them. He crossed his arms, not regarding Norik.
“I won’t lie by saying this will be a decisive war. The council sent orders to the admiral and him to us.” The leader’s young age became apparent at that moment.

“Enlighten me, Commander.” Norik pressed after a bout of silence on part of Ankrus.
He sighed, “We’ve been ordered to expel the Plys’Iea from this world, as we’ve been doing for the last few of months. But.....”

Ankrus seemed uncertain again as to proceed; then he continued. “We’re to recover all samples of Iso Naryyn, Plys’Iea, and the avian race’s technology and assets.”
Norik didn’t need the commander to draw a picture; this meant that any victory on this world would ultimately buy time for some elaborate scheme by the Patriarchs.

Then, telepathically, he added. “We don’t know what the Patriarchs are planning, but we can trust that it will be for our own good.”
“More than likely the plan will screw over a few of us, too.” Ankrus spat in response.

The envoy did not reply, Ankrus wouldn’t ever move against the Patriarchs, he was just voicing one truth about the Patriarchs. Any price that preserved the greater whole was an acceptable sum.

Finally, Norik said. “I want to speak to my son before this is over....” The estranged father then dropped the subject like a spent tool, moving on to discuss the new intel and muse predictions as to the course of this conflict.

Talament Station, near Tracâdus II, 12:49

Of the three current Patriarchs, Valance was the most intertwined in military affairs. Patriarch Wahn was more embroiled in politics and domestic affairs, and Salem, the least ambitious and influential, handled relations with the various loyalist races.

Valance stepped down onto the observation deck of the renowned Talament Station. Tracâdus II, his patron world was the primary source for armaments for the marines, and the twenty shipyards in its orbit were the backbone of the High Naryyn Navy.
As Tracâdus II was a producer of naval vessels and marine weaponry, Talament was the heart and nerve center to the whole Imperial Armada.

Outside in the void, twelve capital ships waited to be sent out into the interstellar fray. Two destroyers, five carriers, and six frigates, all prepping to join the fight on Nirm.
Suddenly a flash of light winking beyond the gathered ships. Thirty new vessels now resided in the space around Talament. It was impossible to mistake the newcomers with the High Naryyn battlegroup.

The vessel in the center of the formation was equal in tonnage to a Hvy. Cruiser, and even larger. Valance allowed for a slight grin to cross his face, as all of the workers around him turned to stare in wonder.

Five minutes passed and then a single Shai’Phayl exothermic drone entered through one of the lower airlocks. It then came up to the observation deck via the main service elevator.
Valance calmly approached the alien warrior while the various non-combatants gave it a wide berth. The Patriarch gazed appreciatively at the creature.

Its exoskeletal form was akin to a Terran crustation, no head, and overlapping plates of chitinous armor. The drone was easily 5.5 meters in length, and as wide as 885th legionnaire armor.
As there was gravity with Talament, the drone slithered across the floor. When there was only two feet between Valance and itself, it stopped and emitted a deep rumbling noise.

To those unfamiliar with the Shai’Phayl, it was impossible to come up with any meaning from the alien vocalization. Valance, however, had dealt with them before, and the tones were meant to be felt rather than heard.
He picked out complex nuances in its seemingly uniform rumble. When the large creature finished it remained still awaiting a response.

The difference between understanding the Shai’Phayl and being able to speak back was as immense as the distance from Tracâdus to the Shai’Phayls’ home system.
Telepathic communication with this particular race was nearly impossible, but not useless. Valance used his psychic powers to create vibrations in the air without sound.

The drone dutifully slithered back into the service elevator, and made its way back into space. The second High Naryyn Patriarch watched it fly back to the gathered fleet, satisfied that the Nirm Conflict was in even better hands than before.....

This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Nov 10 2007, 07:05 AM