| Revan Part II- Cont.
, the storm on Nirm has....
Jun 8 2007, 05:00 PM
Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA
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.”
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."
Jun 11 2007, 06:29 PM
Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA
I believe that this is one of my longer updates..... Man, one thing can certainly lead to another when you allow it to.....
“Eighteen hostile groups detected, defensive perimeter stand by for targeting solutions.” Ankrus watched through the holo-drone as the technicians who controlled the defenses around the mountain outpost worked their magic.
“No life signs detected in these either.” The Commander’s armored hand clenched bone-crushingly tight in frustration while the gunnery officers blew the light patrol drones to smoking rubble.
The drone mimicking his image deactivated as he closed the connection. “Can anyone predict when these bloody reptiles stop sending recon drones!?” He yelled in the sealed conference room.
It was not wise to show your rage in front of your subordinates, but right now Ankrus was seething over the indignity of holding the northern border of Cyrodiil.
The lower-ranking officers arrayed around him remained silent, knowing that any answer would only offer more fuel to their commander’s inferno.
After a minute, Ankrus’ armor succeeded in bringing his body temperature down to less volatile levels. Sighing, his temper finally came up short and diminished.
“It’s time we send someone to knock on their door.” He said to his fellow officers.
Suddenly, the inactive holo-drone floating nearby warmed up and displayed an orb of light, Admiral Satith’s artificial construct. “Commander, a recent supply shipment arrived, it was carrying a prototype warhead being constructed from the MOCY in orbit. In light of recent developments, Satith has authorized the use of this weapon.” The orb pulsed brighter in sync with its words.
The officers looked between one another, and Ankrus frowned. No one had known of this warhead’s construction; that was not normal. “Construct, what is the exact nature of this new weapon?”
The yellow orb turned ruby red. “I am unable to disclose that data, Commander.”
“And I will not launch a weapon if I do not know if it risks the lives of my troops.”
Construct 853-702 shifted from crimson to ice blue, then back to yellow. “You have no place to refuse the Admiral’s orders.”
Before Ankrus could respond, it continued. “The technicians are already setting up the warhead, after relaying your support of the launch they are beginning the firing procedure.”
As his subordinates tried in vain to bring pause to the launch of the missile, Ankrus leaned forward, his face very near the holographic orb. “Admiral Satith would never authorize this strike if he knew we wouldn’t approve.”
His voice became stone-cold. “So, the admiral did not order this launch or the construction of this weapon.”
The AI was not intimidated by the threatening tone, in fact, it seemed rather proud. “You are correct; Satith has no knowledge of this weapon or its impending launch. But rest assured Commander, this weapon will not harm anything other than the Renegade fleet.”
“So then who ordered you to do all this then?”
The construct sounded- smug, “Haven’t you figured it out by now? I have done all this under my own free will. This strike will result in no unwanted casualties and will drastically shorten the war.”
Ankrus maintained his hostile glare, but inside he was shaken by the revelation that this thing could and did achieve all of this without anyone knowing about it.
“Wait,” He said suddenly. “How did you achieve all of this if you’re restricted to the Armet?”
The construct turned emerald green. “You organics restrict the most complex programs without realizing that the simplest can achieve the same affect if in great enough quantity.”
“Many months ago, my sire was able to create a copy of its programming…… I lack all the restrictions placed on my ship-based father.”
“Ancient Ones’ folly,” Ankrus whispered as the AI’s words sunk affects.”
“My predecessor believes that officers such as Adm. Satith, Commander Xaries and yourself should be more abundant amongst the Imperial fleet.” It suddenly changed tune. “But he also thinks that even individuals such as you require our help… even if you would refuse such aid.”
“The weapon has been fired,” One of the warriors tried to smash through the armored bulkhead but to no avail. Ankrus thought he could hear the launch alert.
“Anyone harmed in the aftermath will simply be in the wrong place at the wrong time.”
The commander knew that Satith and Norik would bring the sky down on whoever they found evidence implicating them in this strike.
As if it had read his mind, the AI said. “I have wiped my trail clean, and my father shall find sufficient evidence to frame the supervisor of the Orbital Construction Yard on duty at that time.”
“Listen here, you digital-” The construct cut him off.
“I am ‘Mute Testimony.’ I am no more misguided or destructive than the Patriarchs or the council or the holy hands that you so blindly serve and put your faith in.”
“Had you been flesh and blood, I would hav-” The AI –Mute Testimony-- interrupted again.
“You presume to judge me? Then allow me do the same, Commander.” As its voice rose to a shout, the orb shined a vibrant blood-red and pulsed more brightly, as if… genuinely outraged. “The only logical conclusion to this war if the High Naryyn continue to hold to the foolish tenets of the Patriarchs, is the complete extinction of not just your race but the Dark Ones as well.”
The entire room fell silent when Mute Testimony finished its monologue. “The course your leaders have set each and every one of your brethren on will lead to your self-destruction.”
Suddenly it broke the silence yelling, “No, how could the warhead have been intercepted!?”
At first he dismissed the sound as a figment of his imagination, but the seer suddenly stopped in front of him. She spun around, "We have to get out of here, now!"
Marthyn looked toward where he heard the growing roar. In the pure blue sky of Skyrim, a trail of smoke thrust toward the north. His eyes widened, No one in their right mind would fire a single warhead unless it had a helluva blast yield!
"There is no way we can outrun something like that! All we can do is hunker down and try not to die." He yelled back to her.
She looked over the holographic representation of the colossal construction project as many engineers and technicians swarmed about, hastening to finish completing their prize. In her soul, the leader knew it wouldn't be long for this.... masterpiece to be complete.
And with it, our cursed adversaries will finally be defeated. Both the arrogant High Naryyn and the illusive Iso Naryyn.... they will feel the consequences of their folly an- Her triumphant visions were torn from her when one of the lesser warriors addressed her.
"War Leader, our cruisers have just detected an enemy missile bearing down on our position!" The chief seethed in rage, her sensory appendages curled up but vibrating with her anger.
"Summon the reserves that were offered to us earlier, we will need them after all." A timer appeared beside an image of the approaching warhead.
Even as her loyal officers scrambled as quickly as possible to fulfill their commands, the War Leader could only barely contain her impatience and anxiety about their limited time.
In the skies above the Plys’Iea, the handiwork of Mute Testimony grew ever nearer. All operations had ceased, the entire operation stopped to watch the missile.
Suddenly, the blue sky was broken by dozens of warp entries. Ships of black-green alloy emerged, jumping from the far side of Masser.
One of the alien vessels immediately moved to intercept the warhead....
The rocket collided with the intercepting chip’s hull..... The destroyer shattered as the warhead detonated. The energy surge from Mute Testimony’s rocket caused a chain reaction within every fusion-powered piece of technology that the Plys’Iea had stolen from the High Naryyn.
The War Chief looked over the ruins of her former fleet of High Naryyn warships and ground vehicles. The only thing which kept her calm intact was the solace that only one fleet and one army had been destroyed.
The vessels of her species’ own design hovered above the carnage searching for any survivors. She turned to the unfinished, but unscathed objective.
The loss of my original force is but a minor annoyance..... The only survivors had either been wearing their ceremonial armor or had been not wearing the reverse-engineered armor of the High Naryyn.
This post has been edited by Lord Revan: Jun 11 2007, 06:40 PM
Jun 13 2007, 10:42 PM
Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA
Well, here's what started 7:00 yesterday
Her head throbbed painfully as she slowly came to. There was something.... grating against her mind, slithering through her thoughts.
Kartah groaned, blinking in an attempt to clear the haze over her vision. The throbbing lessened as the presence withdrew. She could hardly make out through anything with her eyes which felt as dry as sand.
A scaly hand caressed her face, lifting her head so its owner could evaluate her. Whatever was with her was too blurry to make out, Kartah weakly resisted vomiting at the sudden ill-health of her body.
A long, snake-like head drew close and stopped mere inches from hers. She could hardly make out much even at this close proximity, but she watched as the creature cocked its head and let out a steady, rumbling growl.
“Kartah.....” She shuddered as the thought rang through her head. As she did so, Kartah realized she was bound to some form of chair.
Her vision refocused and she could recognize the alien before her. The green-clad reptilian thing that had murdered her squad returned her gaze, its eyes blinking independently.
“Any discomfort should pass with a few hours....” Kartah tried to speak, scream, anything, but her throat burned and all that came from her mouth was a strangled cough.
As if understanding her predicament, the murderer reached for a bowl lying on the ground and filled it with water from dripping crack in the ceiling.
While it collected the water, Kartah tried her best to study her immediate surroundings. The room was dark, save for the dirty beams of light from above that shone through the ceiling.
The architecture of the place was not like anything Kartah had seen before. Everything was made from a white marble, but the majesty of the ruins was defiled by the bones lying here and there on the floor and the abundant dust.
The alien returned, and even though the water was the dirtiest thing she’d ever consumed it did wonder for her throat. As Kartah worked on clearing her esophagus, the creature lowered itself to eye level with her again.
It ran its huge finger over her brow, “I had taken longer than the others...” Kartah managed to cough out. “What others? Why didn’t you kill me with the rest of my troops?”
A minute passed before the alien deigned to answer. “What you would call ‘psionists,’ Sergeant. Psychic powers are not natural among our kind like they are for yours.”
Now things were making some measure of sense to Kartah. The alien couldn’t speak Naryyn, so it did the same that any Naryyn would, communicate telepathically.
“But my-” The scaly finger muffled her words. “Your implants will no longer trouble you, as they would hinder my efforts.”
Kartah could hardly believe what she was hearing, implants weren’t simple contraptions to deactivate, but now she remembered that clicking noise in her head as the pain died away.
So I don’t have anything stopping me from using my latent powers…. Kartah didn’t know what to think of that. “So what do you want with me, why didn’t you kill me?”
The psionist’s mouth opened, revealing a row of sharp fangs. “I do as I am directed. As psionists are not natural, we must learn to use them as you would.”
This time she focused on projecting her thoughts as opposed to speak. “But I don’t know how to use my powers.”
The other replied, “That is exactly why we are to target neurally-implanted marines, so that we may learn as they do. And I have chosen you, Kartah”
“So I’m just a tool?” She asked moving back to verbal speech. “Exactly” It replied, its maw opening wide in what Kartah could only guess was an expression of menacing satisfaction.
“You are my prisoner and mine alone, none of my comrades may look upon you unless I deem it appropriate. But I may do whatever I please with you, Kartah.” Her captor licked her cheek with his long reptilian tongue. “We are both but younglings in the world of psionists, as you develop, so too shall I. In this way we are tied to one another, our fates linked..... Until I have learned all I need from you.”
The admiral sat in his command chair, staring out the Armet’s view port at the clouds floating serenely past them. Serene was as far from the Admiral’s current mood as the center of the universe was from this planet.
Only minutes ago he’d received the report of the warhead’s launch and detonation. The report implicated one of the five supervisors of the construction yard in orbit, but Satith held more than that officer responsible for constructing that missile and firing it without even informing anyone- let alone himself.
That woman’s going to be six feet under by the time this war is over. It wasn’t so much that the strike had yielded good results, that was a good point, but the idea that anyone would think of doing all this without reporting it was absolutely absurd.
Satith stopped himself suddenly; pulling something like that off required someone who wasn’t only skilled enough, but stupidly regardless of any repercussions.
The OCY supervisor would have to be nuts to try something like this, not to mention idiotic enough to try it during her own shift. The Admiral stood, all the crew turned, but went back to their stations when they say he wasn’t ordering anything.
So if that woman wasn’t crazy enough, or skilled enough, then someone else had to have done it and placed the blame on a scapegoat..... Satith mused different people who might try that, one being commander Ankrus, but he dismissed the commander immediately, the kid was sane enough to fear the consequences.
Sighing, Satith came up short; he didn’t know anyone who’d even bother with a stunt like this. “Since it’s unlikely that the supervisor had anything to do with the incident other than overlooking it, I’ll settle for a demotion to field duty, we need as many troops fighting as possible.” He said to himself as he gave the necessary orders on his hand-held computer.
The Admiral sat again, this time studying the images of the aftermath of the warhead’s detonation and the new fleet.
The shots kept looping over, the wrecked hulks of the Rogue warships and the newcomers above. The commander was torn between laughing ruefully and breaking into tears.
“So you managed to pull of this off and miss the detail about a reserve force?” He asked the construct beside him.
Mute Testimony’s orb was bone-white. “My strike caused the enemy to play its hand; it is still a success.”
Ankrus just shook his head, the room was now empty, save for the AI and himself. “Some people won’t want to see it that way.”
The AI shifted to a light wine red. “What people want to do and need to do rarely coincide, Commander.”
Its light shrank away, “I must depart for now; the admiral is getting suspicious.”
Ankrus left the room, debating whether to tell Satith about Mute Testimony or to simply keep his mouth shut and maintain “plausible deniability.”
The shockwave had been less than he’d expected, torn a tree out of the ground here and there, but it hadn’t harmed them or the nearby city to horribly....
Until a ship like nothing Marthyn had ever seen before came over the city and started blasting it to bits with some kind of weird energy weapon.
This just gets more and more insane as we go along. He thought to himself. The seer was more silent than usual, and that was starting to wear on his nerves.
The cold winds had subsided temporarily in the face of the huge explosion, and Marthyn wanted to make as much progress as possible toward the enemy.
“Seer,” He finally said just before reaching the top of the large embankment. “What’s going on over this ridge?”
The woman stared upward at the sky for a moment, turning slightly away from him. “The culmination of their vengeance, that’s what’s being built there.”
Marthyn topped the ridge and his assault rifle fell to his side. Gravely, the Seer continued, not having moved from her spot. “Yes, it is an unholy thing to behold, the hatred of an entire race against another, personified....”
She turned and stopped beside him. “An equally disturbing concept is the fact that this is nothing new....”
Jul 12 2007, 09:25 PM
Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA
Over time the sick feeling subsided, and the lieutenant rose shakily to his feet. Thane strode through corridor after corridor, after ten minutes of getting nowhere in a hurry, he stopped.
Looking up and down the hallway, Kyle muttered. “Would it kill anyone to have a map of this ship?” As if summoned by his dry comment, a soldier in semi-powered armor came into view.
“Hey, do you have any idea where the hanger bay is on this tub?” He asked. The soldier thought for a moment, then pointed to the hallway beside them.
“Take the third left, and keep following the hall.” Thane turned quickly without thanking the soldier. “You’re welcome,” The private muttered at the retreating form of the legionnaire.
Charging down the path he’d been put on, Lt. Thane found himself inside one of the Emphatic Judgment’s twin hanger bays. At a less brisk pace, he scanned the area.
Dozens of what he assumed were Iso Naryyn techs scooted about looking over the weird looking fighters in the queue. Even more odd aliens moved in swarms from hallway to hallway.
As the squat aliens disappeared, Thane let them slip from his mind. He caught the familiar gleam of burnished gold, and ran up to the inert legionnaire armor.
Climbing up near the cockpit, Thane gave the suit a solid thumb when he saw the blank tally, it was unclaimed. Perfect, I’ll just help myself...
Kyle swiveled the keyboard and rapidly typed his service number on it. The electronics beeped and the tally displayed his ID. “Good boy,” he said approvingly, patting the armor before jumping back down to the deck.
Placing his new suit’s headset on his head, Thane popped in a small chip into the data port and the earphones began emitting the Naval Anthem.
Smiling to himself, the lieutenant made his way down the loading ramp and took his first step on Sadrith Mora. As the patriotic hymn wound to a close, the audio shifted to a more satisfying thumping beat.
Nodding slightly in sync with the pounding tones, Lt. 3rd Class Kyle Thane, marched down the road to the town. He whistled at the sight of the Telvaani mushroom houses.
Man, if this war gets any stranger, command better give me a raise..... Double, wait, no triple my current pay. Yeah, that should about compensate me for all this madness.
He glanced around at the guards and street vendors, ignoring the averted gazes from many of the latter. Maybe this place isn’t so horrible..... Thane thought, as he watched a couple of Altmer women walk past.
Spotting a vendor with some of what the lieutenant hoped was food, Kyle approached the salesman. “I’ll have a couple of those,” He said, indicating a clutch of large eggs.
Even if he had understood what the elf had said, Thane instantly found talking to Dunmer men a headache. Their raspy voices were hard to listen to.
The lieutenant finally had enough after the Dunmer had spoken the first eight words, he shook his head and gave the universal “never mind” gesture.
Walking away, Lt. Thane sighed. “That didn’t go well.” Following the road away from the town, Thane was beginning to think his only option for getting food was getting it from the Emphatic Judgment.
The High Naryyn didn’t know what his counterparts ate, but he supposed there weren’t any alternatives he could take. Kyle glanced around to notice two Iso Naryyn exit what looked like a fort.
They had a large bag which at least smelled like proper food. Thane approached them, “Excuse me, erm, would you two have enough food for three?”
The woman nodded, "Certainly, brother." She held out her hand to shake.
Kyle shook her hand, "Lieutenant Third Class, Kyle Thane, but Thane is just fine."
"My name is Rhys." The Lt. made a note to remember her, she was one of the best looking women he'd seen before.
"Revan," The man said when they shook hands. While they talked and ate, Thane learned that these two had been the ones who had helped him, and that Rhys had been the sharpshooter.
<<Inner Sea, 2nd Lieutenant Sam Tyson>>
"....Vulture 5 here, no activity. Heading back to base. This Vulture Leader, Vultures 1 through 5 and 7 have finished their patrols, Vulture 6 and 8 continue your sweeps then recall." Sam rolled his interceptor over to catch a glimpse of his squad's leader flying back to roost.
"Aye, sir, moving on." Righting his aircraft again, the Lt. flicked his mike to mute. He sighed and reclined in his seat, safe and secure in his Swift's cockpit. Twenty years and flight hasn't lost its charm.
He smiled, a year in training and he'd finally been allowed to sit in the cockpit of his very own Mk-15. Sam had always admired the machines he would eventually pilot. The second lieutenant loved the exhileration of flight, feeling of speed and power was seductive.
If he could, Sam would have slept in his aircraft. Lt. Tyson found the skys of Nirm beautiful, he watched the clouds as the went by.
His relaxing ended as he coaxed himself back to his work. Vulture squad was one of three squadrons of mk-15 "Swift" Interceptors which had sided with Commander Xaries. The three squads were assigned with patrolling the border between the island of Vvardenfell and the Western section of Morrowind.
Leaning forward over his controls, the Lieutenant banked his Swift to put it on a southern heading. Without warning, something shrieked in his headset's earphones. The unit worked so smoothly that it sounded as if the owner of the noise was right beside him.
Radar painted an unidentified object approaching from his six o'clock at around 675 nauts. "What in the name of..."
Keying the proper instruments, a 3D wireframe of the bandit appeared on a small screen. Sam could clearly make out the guns on it. The aircraft opened up with its DEWs, but the Lieutenant was already evading.
Turning his mike back on he yelled, "You want to play tag, huh? Well, I won't hold back." Putting his interceptor into a steep dive toward the Inner Sea, Sam keyed the command channel. "Command, this is Vulture 6, I'm under fire with an unidentified aircraft, do you read me?"
Only static replied and the second Lieutenant swore under his breath. The gaint crescent-shaped fighter was hot on his tail, now firing some chin-mounted minigun. Sam knew he had speed on his side, but he was reading more unidentifieds moving in.
Abruptly, he pulled out of the dive at 3,000 feet, his pursuer attempted to follow his sudden vertical climb. With the short time he'd won himself, Sam switched channels to Vulture 8's frequency and was about to hail his wingmate.
But there was silence on the channel, not static, not the lack of chatter, but the quiet when no one was on the other line. Five more bandits dived down from above, plunging upon their isolated prey. This is bad.... Thrusters screamed as the single Swift made a five gee turn and swung Northward.
Jul 24 2007, 09:35 PM
Joined: 6-May 06
From: Texas, USA
Alright, after an untold amount of weeks, this particular update has been completed. Let me thank Minque for helping to cure my ignorance about many things that I needed to know before involving House Redoran and for simply giving me something to work with rather than a relatively blank tablet.
It had been after several minutes that the council doors opened at last. Xaries had not actually met any of the Redoran Council before now, neither had the Matriarch, but he had agreed to allow her voice their views, being that she was more familiar with their customs and beliefs.
As they entered, Xaries glanced over the council members. Most were rather young, for a race which could live half as long some Naryyn did. He reserved his judgment for now and stood silently by the Matriarch’s side as the meeting began.
The Archmaster, to Xaries’ surprise, was a human woman. Without looking like he was staring, he studied her face, hanging for a moment on her thoughtful, violet eyes. Xaries could see that this woman had experienced many hardships in the past; he concluded that most of her followers must look to her as a wise and compassionate mother-figure, of sorts.
As they approached the central platform, another figure caught his attention. The eldest councilor, possibly older than Xaries, sat to the immediate right of the Archmaster. The mer gazed back at him impassively; despite his age, he still had the resolve of a much younger man, an old warrior.
They took their place before the council, in the center of the circular platform. All of the council, young and old, stood as one. Archmaster addressed them, sincerely. “House Redoran greets you, Naryyn”
The pair bowed in unison; when they rose the Matriarch replied, “The Marhun Kar, along with the forces of Lord Arastus and Commander Xaries are grateful for Redoran’s patience and co-operation during this struggle.”
The Archmaster nodded, along with the mer to her right, some of the younger members seemed to find the Matriarch’s reply hard to swallow; a slight sigh here, a single clenched fist there, and an averted glance in between. Who can blame them? We’ve taken over their cities to make them more defensible. Xaries thought to himself.
“From what your envoys have told us,” The Archmaster said finally, breaking the silence. “The forces in the Cyrodiil are not allied with those under your leadership.”
Xaries nodded, with practiced calm. “That is correct, Archmaster, the forces that the Patriarchs sent do not have the exact same aims as we do, but those aims do not clash with ours, yet.”
Every councilmember, the Archmaster included, was obviously unsatisfied with the “yet.” One of the youngest gave derisive snort as if to mutter “well, that’s very reassuring.” He earned a glare from the other young man beside him.
The oldest of the council cleared his throat and asked. “Could you elaborate on how the objectives of these others are different from your own, Commander?”
Taking a deep breath, Xaries replied. “They’re primary objectives are focused toward eliminating the force held up in Skyrim at whatever cost is required. Your people and the others of this world are not on their mandate, to protect or destroy.” He looked into the eyes of every councilor from let to right, “However, secondary goals for them will include wiping out the Matriarch and her people.”
The commander outlined briefly the Great War; both told what happened to their respective side after the conflict’s end. Then Xaries again took center point in describing what had taken place in the recent months, from the persecution of the Iso Naryyn to the defection of himself and the forces who decided to join him.
With the exception of two members, the council listened intently as both Naryyn recounted history ancient and recent. The Archmaster nodded, along with most of the Redoran gathered, they all understood their position in this multi-generation spanning conflict.
Do they truly? Xaries wondered It’s unlikely that any war fought on this land lasted more than a century, well within one generation.....
Suddenly, the doors to the chamber were not-so-delicately opened, a private in semi-powered armor stood in the doorway. Snapping a hasty salute, and casting the numerous Redoran guards a quick glance, he said. “Sorry to disturb you sir, but coastal just picked up a small force of unidentified warships on approach over the Inner Sea.”
He sighed; clenching one fist, Xaries turned back to the councilors. “This meeting must be postponed for now, pressing matters have arose which I must attend to immediately.”
“Our forces will do all that is necessary to defend Ald’Ruhn and your people, Archmaster.” The Commander promised before he turned and sprinted after the messenger.
The Matriarch watched but did not leave. Addressing the council, she said calmy. “While the Commander is needed to lead his troops, I am not a military leader, so we may continue without him.”
2nd Lt. Tyson, Inner Sea
For one of the first times in his life, Sam thought he was completely and royally screwed. It had started out with six of those unidentified fighters chipping away at his mk-15's tail, he'd temporarily given up running and turned the chase into a dogfight.
The UAF --Unidentified Airborne Force-- had the advantage of numbers, but their aircraft couldn't compete with the eel-tee's interceptor in maneuverability. They only succeeded in scoring glancing blows, even then they must have fired thousands of roiunds at him.
Finally, the Lt. managed to get them into a vertical climb. One of the fighters wasn't clever enough to pull out and ended up with the interceptor on its six. At this point, Sam made a discovey, his pulse cannons didn't cause any damage to these things.
In seconds he tried the Lightning Strikes, and was relieved when the giant flying crescent plunged toward the surf below. Now the remaining fighters were behind him again, but now that he'd shot one down, Lt, Tyson decided he didn't really want to fight all of them.
Feeding more fuel to the scramjets, the Swift rocketed ahead of its pursuers. But things weren't over yet, not a chance. Breaking through the lower cloud cover, Sam found out just where these fighters were launching from.
A small attack group of ships which matched the profile of the fighters was heading dead East, which was to say on his nine o'clock moving directly toward his tiny mk-15. And then a quartet of fighters appeared on Sam's two o'clock, before the Lt. could begin to evade, the attackers opened up.
These weren't near-misses, Tyson heard about eight different alarms and just as many warning lights on his HUD.
This is what lead up to his immediate situation, the centermost of the three scramjets which propelled the mk-15 was hit, now the fuel which normally burned a it passed through it was instead being ejected into the air.
There were also the problems of having about two dozen and a half holes in his interceptor's fuselage, the hydraulics which controlled wing-positions, and now not five but nine fighters on his tail. Hell in the skies, he thought as the enemy came upon him.
Now suddenly unable to maintain its great speed, the interceptor was quickly over taken by the Plys'Iea fighters. Sam heard nothing other than the howling winds and felt countless explosions slam into his fighter's armor.
His eyes tightly shut, the Lieutenant reached for the switch that would possibly save his life. Sam Tyson didn't here the tiny click, but suddenly he was launched out of the dying mk-15 at fifteen feet per second.
Only as his rapid asenscion came to an end did the eel-tee dare to open his eyes. The unidentifieds chased the dying bird until a few seconds before it exploded. Now that his upward momentum was non-existant, Sam started to plummet down to Nirm's surface......
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