\| Divided Paths |/ - Chapt. 3 - Resolute - Biome (IC)

On one of the colonial outposts within the jurisdiction of the Confederacy there was a town, and in that town, rain was falling, a heavy downpour that drove most people indoors. In the town's spaceport was a single Markovan freighter, one of the smaller varieties. Further within, hovering a foot above the ground, a small vehicle made its way through the streets, a low hum emanating from its engine. The a constant squeaking could be heard by the sharp of ear as it went by; the vehicle's windshield wipers were hard at work clearing the main viewer of the unrelenting precipitation that kept obscuring the view of the operator. Making its way from the landing port to the commerce district, the vehicle came to a halt in front of a building and a door opened in the side. Two Markovans hopped out, carrying between them a container which they bore to the door of the building. Giving a few quick knocks, they were admitted inside. Once in, they opened the container and began haggling with the merchant for what was inside. A perfectly innocent enough activity.

A third Markovan stood at the entrance of the vehicle, seemingly keeping an eye on things. Lifting his head, he peered out into the rain, blinking as some got into his eye. Taking a handkerchief out of his belt pouch, he fastidiously wiped the rain away.

It had been about two and a half weeks since the incident on Ekest, where Gettrav vin Dastic had been captured and convicted for conspiring to have the Markovan ambassador assassinated. But he had escaped, and now sat inside the trade transporter, waiting. In the past, he had had some considerable contact with a group called the Alkisuns. He had slipped them information on regular occasions. However, circumstances had turned against the Markovan traitor, and he was now obliged to seek refuge amongst them; they owed him a few favors by now. He would lay low until it was safe for him to resume his activities on Markova amongst the Opposition.

Reaching once again into his belt patch, he extracted a small box, gave it a few shakes, and then opened it. Inside were several high quality cigars, made from the best nivitt plants to be grown. Selecting one and lighting up, he stowed the rest and continued to peer into the rain. All had been arranged. These so called Markovan traders were in fact members of the Opposition who were smuggling him out of Markovan territory to the relative safety of the Alkisuns holdings. His pickup would meet him right here; all he had to do was say the correct coded greeting to let Gettrav know who he was.

Gettrav examined his time keeper critically. This was taking longer than he had anticipated. Patience, Gettrav. Patience, he thought to himself. Rushing into things never turns out well. If you hadn't learned that lesson early in life, you probably wouldn't have gotten this far in life.

Gettrav took a pull at his cigar and puffed a smoke ring. Patience was the key, patience and good judgement. One should always be sure to be on the right side, the winning side. That was all that counted.

Xavre tilted his head slightly to the left; he was studying Lucean. His cool gaze scrutinized her face, while his mind worked on the problem she presented. The Captain inhaled deeply, while the library's ambient sapphire glow further emphasized this relatively unnoticeable action, creating shifting shadows.
 
"Is your people new to the galactic community? This galaxy is at war. Alliances of spacefaring races dominate it; do not assume they would not find us. These alliances are constantly reaching for new star systems. If were found, we would surely be destroyed. Therefore, we must sever our ties thoroughly."
 
Finished with Lucean, his line of sight moved suddenly and swiftly to focus on the engineers. Pondering their worth, he found it satisfied him to give them another test, this time working on the circuits and electrical devices for the three rooms that had been disabled.
 
"Keo, Ariz, Avlex and... the one who calls himself "Survivor" will be led out of the library to assist in repairing damaged machinery." He said, mispronouncing their names quite fluently. "Corena will remain here. All deck cadets will be escorted to the bridge."
 
Each guard promptly moved to their escortees, walking them out of the room with the precision expected of a soldier. Keo and Avlex were led to the medical station after Dolos's inert form was dragged away, while Ariz and Survivor were put to work seperately in the chambers above and below, ordered to fix the power transmitters and given access to them. Jorro'kil Sentries watched them warily. Lucean was led up to the bridge, where she was directed by Jex to report each restored power flow from the rooms on the levels below.
 
Meanwhile, Captain Xavre stepped down off his podium in the library, and approached Corena with the same cool gaze he had possessed earlier.
 
"We know you have an artificial intelligence. I know it has been spying on our network. I know where it is stored on your person." Another figure emerged from the darkness, the blue glow from the datacases descending upon him rapidly. He held a plasma cutter.
 
"Your companion will desist from interfering in the ship's system or will be removed."
 
He turned around rather arrogantly, strolling once more into the obscure corners of the library. "Or could be made to work for us - whole.. heartedly." A gleeful rise in his tone of voice indicated he found the phrase laughably unfitting for a computer.
 
________________________________________________________________________________________________________
 
 
"I will reciprocate, perhaps not as meticulously." The Councilor replied. His avian eyes narrowed, and he looked up at Relthar.
 
"I have been waiting for thirty years. I will not have this fail." He said. He was speaking to Silus, but his stare targeted only Levantus. "You will recieve whatever you require, in return for your faith." With that, he confessed his plans to Silus, clearly and confidently.

Ariz made no comment as he went to work. He had developed some technical skill, having had to keep his own ship in repair as he traveled. After some time had passed, he put the last touch on.

"Done," he said aloud. Without warning, he whirled and threw a punch at a sentry, but didn't hit him; rather, his fist came within an inch of the sentry's stomach, and then was pulled back. Ariz stood, hands akimbo, looking at the Jorro'kil with disapproval.

"Sloppy," he said. "That's what you are. If that blow had struck, you'd be spitting up your own blood now. Do you lot get any training here?"

Let's see just what they're capable of, he thought privately to himself. It seems they don't expect that sort of thing.

Survivor quietly worked on his aassignment but in truth he observed his sentries more. Evaluating their posture and equipment before "laughing" to himself. His robotic ringers then moved.

"So are the cameras in this sector. Offline?"
_______________________________________________________

Avlex worked on the few things in the med - bay that had similarities to his sleeve. Glancing occasionally at his fellow prisoner. After a bit of silence he finally spoke.

"So uh... hi I'm Lieutenant Avlex. What's your name?"

Berem

The drone lasted approximately ten seconds before its armour reached critical damage. In that time it had managed to fire nine tranquilliser rounds, seven of which were massively off target due to the inertia of enemy fire impacting its body, and the one that was on target was hardly difficult to dodge. After those ten seconds, the armour plating around the drones central body mass was completely destroyed, its intricate and masterful circuitry bare to the world.

For a brief moment the drone paused, lowered its weapon and put its free hand across one of the damaged areas of armour, as if trying to protect its modesty. It was almost akin to an organism defending itself. There was no self defence protocol on its systems, and especially no covering of circuitry. Was this just the drone replicating organic behaviour, or something else...


Then the feed went dead. The Kar'Geualiea masters gathered around the screen all looked up and stood in silence for a moment.
"How long before he reinforcements arrive?" The chief researcher asked
"About eight minutes." Another answered. That was a long time. Too long. More aliens could arrive in that time, or they could take their tranquillised comrade away. It would be a coin toss, whether they took the drone or their fellow alien with them. A coin toss the Kars couldn't afford to lose.
"Get them there faster." The chief growled and strode away, his cloak flourishing behind him,

"As I told you. The long game." #485C said dryly. He collapsed into his prefab chair, suddenly exhausted. "Remember this if you will. All good things must come to an end. If only to carve a pathway for more good things." He smiled, curving the soft parts of his beak mandibles to form it.
 
"Whatever you think, I will be always resolute." Would this Krathunian assume he meant his odd tiredness had no effect on his resolve? No, nor was he truly tired, it was merely an unnecessary act. It was one more thing to amuse him, until long-awaited events would finally commense.
 
He left Nvarn with this statement, and ordered the guards in his cell to show the Sentinel out of the prison facility.
 
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"Arc of the Sun." A young voice, polytonal in the form of an accent, was uttered behind Gettrav. He placed a hand, rough and mottled with sharp black claws, upon Gettrav's low-down shoulder.
 
Should vin Dastic revolve to face the agent, he would see a Jorro'kil, young like his voice, dressed in a grey uniform similar to the ones Free Absolute officials would wear. However, an ornate, curved shoulder pad with a matte blue color set him apart from any executives of established empires. Atleast, non-criminal empires. He also wore a glowing blue wrist COM of Alkisun make.
 
"Gettrav vin Dastic, I have come on behalf of the Alkisun organization. Where can we go to discuss business privately?"

Gettrav turned, quickly taking in the appearance of the young Jorro'kil. This must be one of those 'kil's that the Alkisun lured in using the story that they were the Jorro'kil's creators. Gettrav would have preferred an older more experienced individual, but still, this one would have to suffice.

"Indeed, Sir," Gettrav said aloud. "That's quite interesting. You do tempt me. Just one moment." He took a quick look around to ensure that no one else was too close, and then pressed a button on the inside of the vehicle's door. After a second, one of the Markovans opened the door of the near building and peered out, glanced at the young Jorro'kil, and shot a questioning look at Gettrav.

"This fellow has just told me that he has something we might be interested in," said Gettrav to the Markovan. "I'm going take a look and see if it's something worth are while."

The Markovan blinked, and nodded in understanding. "Alright, we'll see you at the ship then," he said, and closed the door.

"Come along, my good Sir," said Gettrav adopting a slang accent to his voice. "Let's take a look at this item in question." Getting out of the vehicle and shutting the door, he took a hood he was wearing and pulled it to his face, both to cover his features and to keep the rain off. He then took the Jorro'kil's hand. "Lead on, Sir," he said aloud. To all purposes, the Jorro'kil walking on front would seem to be in the lead, but it was really Gettrav who chose the route, using subtle pushes and pulls to guide his contact in the proper direction.

About ten minutes later, the other two Markovans exited the building, the container now emptied of its contents. Hopping inside their vehicle, they drove off into the rain. They made a few more stops for trading, and then made their way back to the ship. Once the vehicle and a few things they had obtained were aboard, the ship took off, leaving behind their passenger as planned.

Gettrav directed the young Jorro'kil to a local bar. "Let's stop here for a nip," he said. "They have the best mead around, I hear." Pulling his contact in, he promptly ordered a private table, and the two sat down.

"So you're my contact," he said, suddenly dropping the accent and act.

Unfortunately for the Felinite bounty hunter, malfunction or failure to respond incorrectly would result in one of two things. An intensive scan performed by airborn drones, or destruction from atmospheric fighters. The latter was instituted particularly efficiently in the inner Free Absolute worlds. As wars continued, so would espionage and sabatoge. It was this option that was taken, when the trade vessel itself attested to the fact that, when confronted with the improper response from additional cargo, they were not supposed to be carrying any such attachments, nor did they know of it.

As several sword-like fighters rapidly approached the unknown consignment, Fluffy would have mere moments to disengage from the host ship and make a hasty escape.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Berem - S/I-XI - 2,750

-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

The squad leader knelt down infront of the shattered machine, and swore under his breath. The first encounter with sentient alien life, or an extension thereof, and it had been needlessly hostile. He and his squad would almost certainly face some punishment for the miscommunication.. or be honored as heroes, decided by the next few hours, and critical decisions.

His attention shifted abruptly to the unconscious soldier whom the drone had tranquillized. He was breathing softly, but would sleep for an unacceptable amount of time. They could move him, but the journey would be extremely cumbersome.

The choice was made for him as a buzzing sound broke through the gentle wind.

It is time to begin.

Advantage rumbled and quivered, awakening from a year old meditation. Hundreds of youngling Va squirmed and croaked in excitement, filling the chamber with noise. They were eager to watch and hear the ancient behemoth after a deep strategy meditation, his words after such a time would be wise and knowledgeable. The younglings surrounded Advantage on all sides of his circular throne. Shaped like a bowl, it was filled with perfectly heated liquid, keeping Advantage comfortable and hydrated at all times. The bowl which held Advantage was surrounded by a moat with similar liquid within, holding all the eager and wild youngling Va. Food was brought to Advantage by a parade of young, which was carefully and meticulously consumed by the elder. Upon finishing his meticulous meal, Advantage addressed the younglings.

"Awaken The Advancement. It is time for exploration."

The deep grumble sent the younglings into a frenzy. High pitched chirps and croaks bounced off the walls of the chamber, creating an unbearable amount of noise. As fast as he could, Advantage slowly produced a command plug from a small slit in his skin. The nearest youngling quickly consumed the plug, and travelled out of the room with a convoy of younglings in hot pursuit. The sudden emergence of younglings for the Eldest chamber stirred the Va from their various studies. The awakening of Advantage meant something important was about to happen. Soon, hundreds of Va were eagerly awaiting a message to their ingested communicators. The command would be amazing, wise, knowledgeable, groundbreaking, everything they hoped for. The youngling finally reached the command module within the elder chamber, depositing the plug into the reader. The chamber filled with high pitch croaks and low rumbles as the Va awaited their leaders truth.

//The Advancement shall be awakened, demilitarized, and sent to explore unknown space. After proper intelligence is gathered, Advancement shall commence again//

Communicators went off all across the population complex, and Va rumbled in agreement. Their leader had made a perfect decision, of course. He is the most qualified to lead us, his thoughts are the only thoughts that matter. The Va went back to their studies, and the command module sent out much more specific instructions to the SRIAS drones in orbit. Connecting the dots, the message finally reached the outlying SRIAS. Multitude streamed towards fabricators, stripping weapons and turning them into scanners and scout drones. A taskforce was put together, and launched into the given area of unknown, wild space. Among the units in the scouting force was a giant moon sized fabricator, pumping out scout drones. The Advancement Mandate had spoken, no one was to be harmed without good reason.

Diplomacy would have a chance.

Fluffy quickly disengaged the ship and moved away.

"Arkrt! What a pain. Clearly I need some new tactics when dealing with these beakheads. And a better stealth fighter."

Fluffy quickly got an idea. She moved to the back of her ship and pulled out a medium sized metal crate. She opened it up to reveal a large number odd looking microdroids and a small wristband with a screan on it. "Lets hope this at lest works."

She pulled out the band and put it around her arm. She activated a small holographic terminal and programed in a command. Suddenly the microdroids sprang to life and positioned themselves in various positions around her body. They the proceded to generate a solid holographic barrier around her that seemed to change her body shape and concealed everything underneath including her weapons. When it was finished she looked like a funny little green furred male alien with two tall pointed ears, a long tail and four antennae.

"Well what do you know. These disguise microdroids actually work. Now I must remember not to get hit. Its only a disguise and won't offer much protection in combat.
Now to see if I can work my way in."

With that she programmed her ship to decloaked and send out a signal stating that it is surrendering.

"I just hope this disguise holds together."

Everything returned to bliss for Keo after Xavre's speech, all outside noise being drowned out by his thoughts.

This machinery happened to be one of the only things he was slightly familiar with - another stroke of luck, Keo decided. He worked slowly on it, trying to reteach himself on how this worked. Eventually, though, even that sense became numb as his instincts took over, and Keo found himself unconsciously working on the machine. He glanced to the side to see how the others were faring, but picked up little detail.

Around this time, the full realization of what had happened to him had come to light. He knew what had happened, but had initially put little thought to it. Maybe he was just weak; the others didn't seem to be suffering. Maybe they were? Did they miss their old lives as much as he did?

No! Don't say that. It is not your old life. You will be avenged. You will return.

The air now felt much colder. Keo couldn't help but shiver.

Keo was knocked out of his trance by Avlex's words. It took a moment for him to comprehend what was asked for him.

"Oh..." Keo responded, "Keo Kal Dosuul." He muttered something afterword, as if ashamed, "Private."
-- -- -- -- -- -- -- -- --

Blood Overseer,
          K'aeo Kal Dosuul has been reported missing earlier this week. We have done a thorough inspection of the circumstances before reporting.
Initially we suspected desertion, but a survey of the surrounding cities didn't reveal his presence. Were he to leave the planet through normal circumstances, we'd know about it immediately. The idea of him leaving willingly in the first place has been ruled out as unlikely due to signs of a struggle. However, this has been ruled as less than likely due to the signs being relatively minor, and the fact that no other privates near his dorm reported anything suspicious.
          That being said, it is possible for someone to knock him unconscious with a material such as chloroform or zenithium (though the latter is unlikely). But then, the signs of struggle would have no reason to be there. Therefore, we suspect that Dosuul was conscious during his supposed kidnapping, though somehow being kept quiet by his captors.
         More details shall arrive with further investigation. If he were to be kidnapped by a non-Nowikkan party, I'd suggest it necessary to plan action.
                                                                                                                                                                                  Regards,
                                                                                                                                                                                   Blood Officer Konassas

"You sound ashamed of your rank. Why? If it's because of my rank don't fret about it. I personally do not think I deserve it."

Avlex asked confused as to why he should sound ashamed. Maybe he hasn't completed his five required years yet or something but he is an alien and the chances that they have that same law as your people is low.

"Well," Keo explained, "I'm... Uhh, in my culture, your service in the military affects your social status... And, well, I'm horrible at what I do. My peers are a rank above me - still technically privates, but... But you get the idea."

As he said this, he continued to work on the machine. "I'm more of an engineer type, but I didn't realize that before signing up for the army. Now, I must wait out my term before I get the chance to switch professions." He sighed, "One and a half years to go."

Even though he loved engineering, a part of him always wanted to be a brilliant soldier. However, by now his dream seemed to be fading away. He'd have to live with it, for better or for worse.

"Ah, how do you like being lieutenant?" Keo asked, with an unintentional hint of spite.

"Wow."

That is the only thing Avlex could say at that moment. He didn't think another race that had a similar culture to yours could be found so easily. After the astonishment he finally spoke up again.

"Our cultures are actually very similar. Except in my culture we have to do five years of military before we can have any other job and the rank we have when we leave the military is a part of our names for the rest of our lives and to answer your question. I do not enjoy it. Mostly because I don't feel like I deserve this rank. One above Sargent yes but not Lieutenant."

He said return to the equipment he was working on.

Suflet Călit climbed up the ladder and hopped off of the roof of the sand crawler. He landed somewhat ungracefully, but managed to keep his balance more or less. If one were observant, they would see Nisipians peeking through their blinds from other buildings, watching the aliens.

Suflet Călit lead the way into the eatery. The establishment is empty and quiet, save for the few Nisipians walking about who obviously work here. The room itself seems to be a large square shaped room, about twenty be twenty feet and the same distance high. Nearly perfect rectangle holes are carved into the walls about a foot or two from the ceiling. The sandstone floor has small bits of sand with a few sweep marks left by a broom.

Music can be heard through some static from a small speaker in the ceiling. It would sound a bit odd to those not accustomed to Nisipian culture.

On the wall opposite from the entrance is a small door leading to another room that would likely be a kitchen. In the center of the room is a long table with 12 chairs, each made out of the same material as the building and likely weighing nearly a hundred pounds.

On the sandstone table itself, are smooth glass plates, with sporks of the same material at their sides. The arrangement of plates and eating utensils is the same for every seat. In the middle of the table is a large glass bowl containing some sort of black liquid made from one of the plants that can grow on the planet. The taste would be similar to that of black coffee.

The Nisipian workers here seem to ignore the visitors completely. Suflet Călit made a gesture for the Markovians to take their seat at the table. Suflet Călit would sit down with them.

"Our is six years mandatory service... From fourteen to twenty. Afterwords, you are free to do what you want with your life." Keo paused and added, " I once read that thirty-five percent of Nolwikkans stay. Go figure."

He became surprised with himself; Where was this friendliness coming from, and why didn't he have it before?

Keo continued the conversation, "Anyway, why stay in the military if you dislike it so much? Are you still serving your term?"

"Two reasons. One rank mean everything in my society. If you don't leave with a good rank good luck finding a job and two... well...when both your parents and brothers are generals....I think you get the idea." Avlex said a bit sad. "Of course I don't think I'll go anywhere now thanks to me having a rare genetic disease that cause the muscle in my right arm and eye to deteriorate to the point where I can barely use them."

Alvex looks lost in his thoughts before shaking his head and snapping out of it.

"Anyways, I'm done with my five years. Now I'm just trying to see how good of a rank I can get before the Council decides I'm unfit for duty."

The Markovans took their seats, and the black liquid was served. Hissin tried not to wince at the rather strong flavor; he would have liked a little sweetener in it. Still, no reason to be insulting.

"Interesting beverage," he said, trying to make polite conversation. "How's it made?"

Suflet Călit sipped some of his drink before replying, "I'm not sure how this is made, though I'd rather not ask those who do make it. They don't want to share their cooking secrets and whatnot."

He took another sip and continued, "All I know is we make it from some type of plant that grows here on our planet."

Sounds of metal clanking together and sizzling water can be heard from the other room, as Nisipian cooks quickly prepare the many delicacies often eaten by the species.

"Hm," Keo said, deciding not to reply. So, they had found common ground. Interesting. Maybe... Maybe an alliance could be forged between him and Avlex? It would a step closer to liberation.

"I'm sorry to hear about your condition," Keo said, restarting the conversation. "At home, we're getting pretty good at genetic engineering.  A thousand years ago, we created our own creatures from artificial DNA. If your chemical composition is remotely similar - and I'm just speculating - we may be able to, uh... destroy the disease?"

"So," said Terrin to Suflet Călit, feigning politeness, though it was all he could do to restrain his contempt for this whole situation, "what are the cooks preparing, may I ask?"

"Thanks but they already destroyed most of the disease but the chances of finishing it off is extremely hard..they said that there is a high chance that if someone tried to completely kill it there is a chance that it would just become stronger and would cause all my muscles to deteriorate." Avlex sighed a bit he began to think about have full control of his arm again. "I can dream though can't I?"

Alvex then began to think about Xion and started to laugh a bit. "I don't know which is worse having my condition in the rural areas of my species home planet of Xion or being stuck here."

Seconds passed, and the sentries assigned to overseer Ariz's work said nothing, nor did they move.

"If the work is finished, we will inspect it and you will be led back to your quarters." One of them said, breaking the silence. They had orders not to excessively harm any of the recruits unless attacked themselves. The Markovan had come close, but not quite far enough to provoke a physical response. One of the guards reached over to a wall panel and laid his hand flat on it. The lights came on, and some additional, pentagonal machinery began to function, flickering as it reset itself.  

The other took Ariz by the arm, reaching down to compensate for the height difference.  They did as they said, and brought Ariz back to his silvery-grey quarters. One guard left him with a gift for their departure; the butt of his weapon came crashing down on the Markovan's back, knocking him unconscious. The automatic doors to his quarters slid shut.

Captain's orders could be flexible.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________


Survivor's guards watched him carefully. Their blue-and-silver titanium alloy power armor shimmered slightly; this was due to a voluntary increase in energy shielding across the armor's surface. This indicated Survivor was seen as a clear threat, and any response to him must be handled tactfully.

"Security for this room is conveyed through us." One said.  "We are capable of delivering more immediate response procedures." Said another. A third raised his weapon slightly, watching with discreet concern.

The statement from the first was true. Their helmets were capable of transforming the holographic view they provided for the wearer into a video link to superior officers, as well as recording visual history, generally combat history, for tactical scrutiny and examination.

_________________________________________________________________________________________________________

((I'll get to Lucean and Gettrav later))

Survivor let his robotic hand close a bit so he could chuckle out loud before moving his fingers. "Well that is even better now isn't it? I think that one of you should spar with me. I know it would be "against orders" but just think about it. One of your lucky guards could be the first to spar with one of my species a species that I know no one else in this galaxy has seen yet. Plus you guys could finally release all of your pent up rage towards me in the sparring match. Just think it over would you? Because it is the opportunity of the century."

After Survivor finished his sales pitch he returned to work on the lighting finishing them within three minutes.

Ariz pulled himself to his feet painfully. Gingerly touching the back of his head, he brought his fingers to his face and found them smeared brown. Crawling to his cot, he improvised a makeshift compress with a sheet and some water that was placed in each room. He slumped to the ground, leaning against the cot, and allowed darkness to envelop him.