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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Jul 12, 2018 9:50:44 GMT -8
==A Pact of Crabs==
<<107 PP, F13 Sector, Zonama Sekot>>
It was a fairly short document. For the sake of the Yuuzhan Vong, the details had been accurately translated into their own language & copied onto a sheet of velum. It was not a substance that was used effectively for anything other than artworks in the current day, but it was a surprisingly common media base on Lehon, so it had not been that hard to acquire. Having been drawn up by collected effort by a Chiss & a Mandalorian, it favored hard, direct statements. Ones that had little if any room for personal interpretation.
The basic three policies in the Pact were fairly simple. Don't wage war on other members of the Pact. If another member of the Pact is attacked, you help out. Whenever possible, favor trade with other members of the Pact before groups outside the Pact. Of course, it was slightly longer than three sentences, but not by much. In the second point, there was effectively no wiggle room. If a Pact world got attacked, everyone else in the Pact would be required to treat it like it was one of their worlds that got attacked. The third point was a little more flexible, after all, it didn't preclude trade from outside the Pact. The surprising point was the first one. The wording, if looked at carefully, didn't prevent attacking or even smaller military operations against other Pact worlds. Only a war.
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Post by Ayeniner on Jul 12, 2018 10:50:01 GMT -8
The Seer craned his neck to inspect the document from afar before gingerly taking it in his fingers. It felt as any natural animal hide would, but he still felt slightly tainted. Was he being overzealous? Even realisation that he was would not erode the feeling; he would have to make it up to his Gods when this meeting was over. He read the document carefully. Vongese was a language that had very colourful vocabulary and this was translated well, but some idioms looked misplaced. The meaning of the words was clear, however, and unmistakable.
This was an alliance. A loose one, yes, but a promise of military cooperation and support. The Yuuzhan Vong's ability to wage total war was well known throughout the galaxy, and he could see why this would be a prerequisite to any agreement. He would relish the idea of an enemy to fight once again. Alliances are normally born out of necessity, and he was unsure why this one was necessary at all, but he would surely find out in the future.
If things went sour, a restored Yuuzhan Vong Empire would be a match for any adversary. He was not afraid of it going sour, though. These beings respected strength and projected it much the same as the Chosen Race, and that would be the building block that would see the Yuuzhan Vong become great again.
"I wish to ratify this with my counterparts in person." It was a statement, a command. Tokin was already leader of a resurgent military power in his mind. He best start acting like it, and gain enough support that if anyone questioned it then... well, then it wouldn't matter.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Jul 12, 2018 11:02:53 GMT -8
==A Pact of Crabs==
<<107 PP, F13 Sector, Zonama Sekot>>
Frir was secretly pleased that the first meeting had gone as well as it had. Personally he had expected that killing the first few envoys would be required before they were taken seriously.
-Frir
We will wait here. But we will not wait forever. We will make a fire, when it burns green, we are nearing the time we will leave you.
True enough, the others in the group were already setting up a fire with wood stock they had brought with them. There was enough in the small platform/shelter to last them for roughly three days. The last day of which had been treated with salts so that it would burn a bright green color.
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Post by Ayeniner on Jul 12, 2018 11:32:13 GMT -8
Tokin nodded and turned without saying goodbye. He would return successful, or he would not return at all. Excitement whirled in his stomach. It had been so long since he had anything to work towards, so long since his fantastic mind had been put to good use. Now he would use his ambition and cunning tongue to convince his betters. He knew not what the next few days would entail, but he expected that the Trickster God at the very least would be pleased.
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Post by Ayeniner on Jul 15, 2018 10:08:10 GMT -8
The Seer had not taken the document immediately to his superiors. He had to think on the contents, dwell on the possible consequences, and gear himself up for the bloodletting that was surely to come. He had used his personal villip to summon Orik of Domain Kanor to his side. They had a close relationship, especially as they hailed from two very different castes. Their mutual respect was cemented on the infidel capital of Coruscant, many years ago.
The Seer nodded in greeting as the warrior entered his personal residence. It was on the outskirts of what was now the 'cultural' centre of the Yuuzhan Vong. Tokin refused to be part of it, but still needed to be close to the decision making. This seemed like the best choice. Orik was encased in his living armour that had grown slightly since they had last saw each other, and the warrior had sacrificed an ear and two little fingers to the Gods, too.
Good; one who still cherishes our traditions.
Torik made no effort to accommodate the warrior. Any opportunity that was not a cause for struggle, worship or pain was not an opportunity at all. Orik was made to stand.
"Orik, you must know by now that there are filthy infidels on our sacred world." The warrior nodded, but remained without comment. "I have, as instructed, met with them. They offer me a pact." He said the word as if it were as filthy as the infidels who waited some distance away. "The Yuuzhan Vong compromise with no-one, however the terms of this agreement are interesting. I would have your opinion."
He provided the velum to Orik, who gingerly took it in his hands.
"They would make the Yuuzhan Vong strong again?" He asked after a time of consideration.
Torik spat. "No, they would not. We would make the Yuuzhan Vong strong again. This would provide the opportunity to acquire some dire-needed resources to grow a shipwomb in orbit. We could be space-born again. The Chosen Ones could cleanse the galaxy once more."
"My opinion is surely obvious, Seer. The Gods have provided us with a chance to serve them again. We must take this chance, at all costs."
Tokin nodded. "Yes, at all costs."
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 9, 2019 7:47:05 GMT -8
Tokin's fortune was not forthcoming, and he had not risen to become Supreme Overlord of the remnants of the Chosen Race. The survivors of the first invasion of the galaxy remained idle on Sekot, content at their daily lives. Tokin chafed at inactivity, desperately wanting to leave this world and earn the forgiveness of his Gods for his failure at Dantooine. At present, however, Sekot had no shipwomb. It was an effort by the denizens of this galaxy to prevent more bloodshed, and Tokin hated himself for acknowledging it had been successful.
The current ruling members of the remnants had not tried to remedy this situation, and thus Tokin considered them heathens like the abomination-loving people of this galaxy. He desperately needed to get off this world and back into the void.
So he and his warrior accomplice, Orik of domain Kanor, had enlisted the help of Shaper Dumi Nim and had begun a secret project to escape their prison, for they were in a cage in all but name. Tokin visited it now, wanting an update on its progress.
As always, Orik stood in an eternal vigilance. If any others saw what they were trying to do, they may be executed. Orik had killed several inquisitive functionaries who had wandered too close. Their heads, mouths agape in an eternal scream, stood on pikes.
The location of their secret project was in a great crevasse in the northern hemisphere of the planet. It had taken years, but slowly it was beginning to take shape. Although still an infant, the living creature below Tokin was now semi-conscious of the world around it. Tokin often thought it recognised him when he approached, but such talk was nonsense. Such creatures were not sentient and obeyed instruction only, as required by the Gods. Shaper Numi was carefully ushering a beast of burden, created to carry sensitive cargo, into the project. The Seer instantly recognised the black, spherical forms of Dovin Basals. The project was code-named 'the Redeemer', as it would allow Tokin to gain favour once again in the eyes of the Gods.
The creature was a juvenile Yorik-stronha. It looked less armoured than what one would normally expect, but Shaper Numi had explained that the creatures normally encased themselves in material found in space, such as asteroids, but there was no such material on the surface of Sekot. Numi had to do with standard Yorik Coral salvaged from the decaying carcases of old warships and abandoned buildings to make the creature void-worthy, and once free from Sekot's prison, they would fine the appropriate shell for it.
The Redeemer was not finished yet. The Yorik Coral shell was almost complete, but its organs were not yet all present. Shaper Numi had said it may take a few more months before they were ready.
That was okay. Tokin had waited years; he could certainly wait a little longer.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 9, 2019 10:27:47 GMT -8
The Redeemer was a complicated organism. It normally required a shipwomb to grow, coordinated by a Yammosk. Tokin was impressed that they had managed to get this far, but was not surprised; he was doing this for the Gods, so of course they would allow them to succeed.
Numi stood at the foot of the crevasse, a grey hand caressing her headdress. Her skin seemed too pale not to be dead, and yet she showed no discomfort. He would have to ask her about it one day.
"Shaper, how goes our redemption?"
Numi turned to see the imposing, tall figure of the Seer approaching. A creature that would best be described as analogous to a cape latched onto his shoulders and sunk its teeth into his chest for anchorage. It hurt every time he moved his arms; it was an exquisite pain, one that the Yuuzhan Vong cherished above all else. It meant that he was alive.
Her headdress was green in colour, and the serpent-like appendages had been curled up in a ball until she saw him. They fluttered slightly; Tokin wasn't sure what this meant. He knew by experience that the headdresses worn by the Shaper cast had a rudimentary link to the wearer's mental states, so he deduced the Shaper felt something when looking at him. What, though, he cared not.
"Seer Tokin. The Redeemer is progressing well. I am installing the first of the Dovin Basal plants. Once this is done I will have Orik test them with the Tall-Yor I grafted in last cycle, to ensure they become one with the creature we are trying to... manufacture."
Tokin hissed at her obvious displeasure. She felt tainted by patchworking an organism as perfect as a Yorik-stronha, that much was obvious. She also knew that remaining on Sekot, with the heathen Remnant government, was the worse of two evils. She was therefore willing to provide her expertise, but only begrudgingly. Tokin almost felt pleasure at her discomfort, but it was not profound enough for him to care.
"You will not have Orik blunder around with such delicate creatures," Tokin ordered. Though his domain had been shamed and he was technically no higher in stature than the Shaper or the Warrior, he had taken an unvoiced yet irrevocable lead in this scheme. "Have someone with void experience do this. I don't want the Redeemer damaged because someone didn't know how to give instructions correctly."
She nodded her compliance. The last thing Tokin wanted was to involve someone else in their plan; the more people knew, the more mouths there were to betray them. Even so he considered this a necessary risk. The Tall-Yor had not yet been tested and as the only direct link between the vessel and a crewmember, it was vital that someone who knew how to communicate with such creatures tested its capabilities. The last thing Tokin wanted was a stray thought to lead to the creation of a gravitation anomaly and destroy the trio.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 10, 2019 6:53:44 GMT -8
Tokin Herr really had to appreciate Numi's skill in their endeavour. Though he was loathe to admit it, the Shaper truly was an expert in the field of creatures grown for void travel and warfare. Without her, he doubted this final chance at redemption would have been even possible. She had intricately coaxed separate slabs of yorik coral to knit together to make a new shell, and had been working tirelessly to grow the nervous system and guide the blood vessels within this shell. She had enough of a 'spread' to begin installing the requisite organs of the creature, its 'innards'.
Tokin had made it clear he wanted to know if the Redeemer would survive its creation before worrying about its internal composition. He had told Numi to concentrate on getting the biot living first, and then worry about crafting the innards to a pleasing aesthetic once this was complete.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 11, 2019 9:46:03 GMT -8
Numi was angry while she worked. She was often angry; the position that the remnant Yuuzhan Vong occupied on Zonama Sekot was embarrassing, and until recently she couldn't do anything about it. Then Tokin convinced her to help him grow a vessel, and she jumped at the chance to shape a void creature as per the perfect instructions received from the Gods.
Her serpentine headdress hissed quietly but constantly, a true reflection of her seemingly-permanent sour mood. She had installed three mature Dovin Basal plants into the Yorik Coral shell of the Redeemer and wanted these to settle and integrate before attempting anything else. Shaping such a complicated and large creature without the aid of a shipwomb was tiresome, complicated and heavily resource-intensive. She had resorted to salvaging dying bits of Yorik Coral and enticing them to grow and knit together to form a base shell. Once void-borne, the Redeemer would feed on matter such as asteroids to build up its carapace and replenish its energy.
Until then, Numi had been given a task to do by the Seer. She needed a pilot to test the connection with the Tall-Yor, and she had just the person in mind.
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Post by House of D'Ordinii on Mar 12, 2019 14:40:03 GMT -8
==A Pact of Crabs==
<<108 PP, F13 Sector, Zonama Sekot>>
The delegation from the Imperium had been true to their word, they had not stayed forever. They had stayed nearly a month before leaving. However, a ship had stayed in orbit & a party of equally tech devoid figures returned to the spot at the turn of each season. They would stay for a week, burning sulfurous fires that hurt the lungs to breath & could be seen for vast distances in every direction. The Yuuzhan Vong had not rallied to the invitation yet, but it cost little enough to maintain an open hand.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 13, 2019 11:25:49 GMT -8
The Shaper found the pilot carrying out the lowly task of cleaning out the waste area of an animal the Yuuzhan Vong created to digest discarded carcases. They were round, large slug-like creatures; easily half as long as an adult male Chosen One. They could secrete enzymes that would eat through permacrete, and the waste they then produced was used as food for juvenile Dovin Basals. It was a menial job, not one that a renowned pilot should be completing.
It was one for a slave, and the fact it was being carried out by someone such as Dromin Rag was infuriating. Another nail in the coffin of the current Remnant leadership, if she had her way.
"Dromin," she called. He stood quickly, remembering his time serving at the head of the invasion force that nearly had the galaxy at its knees. She respected his crisp posture. He wore simple robeskin that had grown slightly too much, indicating that the manual work caused a lot of perspiration that it fed off to grow and mature. She thought briefly to mention that it needed torn, but decided against it.
"Who are you?" he asked briskly, but not unkindly.
Numi smiled. "I come from a Seer called Tokin Herr. He is to be your salvation."
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 15, 2019 12:01:25 GMT -8
The ridges that hung over the pilot's eyes rose in mock-surprise. "My 'salvation'? Tell me how this Tokin can provide me with more than what the Gods can."
Numi almost grimaced. The last thing she wanted was to be working with a mightier-than-thou 'this is what the Gods have ordained for us' pilot. Worse than the Remnant leadership; not striving for better, not looking to take revenge on the galaxy. Sickening.
Still, she needed him.
"Tokin is a Seer; he is the voice of the Gods, and he is displeased with the current inaction of our current... 'leaders'. He knows that being trapped on one planet, allowing the abominations and godless heathens of this galaxy to go unpunished is not what our Gods want for us. I am helping him with a project; one that will help us get offworld. I am growing a void creature, but I need a pilot to test the connection with the Tall Yor. You're that pilot."
Dromin was definitely intrigued. His eyes glistened momentarily with hunger; a hunger she knew all too well - one of retribution, and a way to do what they all knew had to be done. They needed to be void-capable again; become what they were meant to be. For the Gods.
"What void creature are you shaping?" he asked.
"A Yorik-strohna. It is the Redeemer, for she will be our redemption in the eyes of our Gods."
Dromin smiled. This pilot had decided to remove his teeth and graft a creature to the roof of his mouth. It was rather unique, not an improvement Numi had seen before. The creature was small, flat and had a concentration of very pointy, articulated legs at its front. These seemed to replace Dromin's teeth. The legs were grey-black, formed of glossy chitin, and wiggled when he smiled. It was unnerving, but in very curious way. Numi's estimations of the pilot increased somewhat then. "The Gods' will be done," he said, ushering for her to lead the way.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 16, 2019 2:50:50 GMT -8
Tokin had been left alone with Orik while Numi searched for the void-experienced Yuuzhan Vong who was to join their endeavour. In the distance he could see a growing grashal and became nervous at the sight. The Remnant government were expanding settlements as the population grew. The Seer did not want their project discovered before they were ready.
Luckily they had decided to grow the vessel in the crevasse, so it was not visible on the horizon and would only be discovered if someone came to look and, well, Orik would then handle them.
A slight breeze set the exposed part of his skill tingling. He enjoyed the sensation, though was akin to 'brain freeze'. The Seer was quite happy to contemplate their next moves in silence, but Orik was not.
The Vonduun Skerr Kyrric creature was odd in that it had stripes of colour; several red stripes bisected the Warrior. Orik referred to them now; "the Gods blessed me with unique armour, Seer," he said.
Tokin rolled his eyes, careful not to let Orik see. "Indeed?"
"These birth marks on the shell are unique. Numi has told me she's never seen them before."
He sounded almost proud. Tokin turned to look at him then. The living armour was mostly the normal black-grey palette, however there were three red stripes straight down the middle of his chest to his groin. Why hadn't Tokin noticed it before? The only thing interrupting the birth marks was Orik's aging amphistaff which was curled around his waist.
"What do you think they mean?" Tokin asked Orik.
"That I've been chosen by the Gods to do their bidding; that we'll succeed and that we'll bring glory back to the Yuuzhang Vong. Death to the Remnant leadership; glory to Seer Tokin!"
The Warrior became animated at the last part of that statement, thrusting an arm in the air. Whether Tokin believed him or not - the Gods did work in mysterious ways - he was happy to have someone so dedicated to their cause be so capable in the areas of martial combat and tactics. Tokin smiled; it wasn't a nice grin. One of hunger for power, and he just had his first taste of that sweet elixir.
"Seer Tokin, Warrior Orik, I have brought Dromin of domain Rag. He is the most capable void pilot I could think of, and he is immediately willing to serve."
Tokin turned to see the Shaper arrive. Her serpentine headdress had calmed somewhat and did not stir at the sight of the Seer. Was that progress?
The pilot was tall and stood proud, eager to serve. Excellent.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 16, 2019 7:01:44 GMT -8
Tokin admired the sacrifice the pilot had made to the Gods, having a rather unique creature grafted to the roof of his mouth. The Seer couldn't help but stare in fascination when Dromin talked. The glossy, chitinous legs wiggled when he did so, and made his voice sound eerily serpent-like. Tokin almost felt like cutting his head open wasn't dedication enough...
He shook the thought away. He knew that, amongst all those present, he was the most devout. It was he who decided to act against the Remnant government, he who had concocted this plan, and he who would see them to glory. The others are just doing their part in the events that would lead them to salvation, as the Gods intended.
Tokin led Dromin and Numi into the Redeemer, leaving Orik to stand watch once more, and the Warrior remained stoically at his position without complaint.
The innards of the Redeemer were not yet complete. There was discolouration and cracking in the yorik coral walls where Numi was still enticing separate slabs of the material to knit together, and the leathery tubes that transported the lifeblood of the creature were still visible. When the Redeemer was more mature, they would be secreted in the yorik coral shell itself. The 'support' structures that began to shape the void-capable biot were visible as rib-like protrusions in the walls. Numi had hooked lambents into the organism, feeding directly off the bioreactor, to light their way. Most of the juvenile ship was still in darkness, but that was low on the list of priorities.
They passed the succession pool which held the young and weak heart and livers of the vessel, also acting as waste disposal to feed the growing creature. Numi quickly peered into the murky liquid, checking on the health of the organs. She came away looking neither pleased nor displeased, leaving Tokin wondering what their progress in growth actually was.
She stubbornly did not elaborate.
They eventually arrived at the helm of the Redeemer. There were multiple alcoves which stood empty, ready for Numi to graft in creatures that would allow interaction with the ship and allow Yuuzhan Vong to give it direction. There would be a creature relating to the weapons, one relating to the dovin basals and so on. The key one, however, which would allow deep and personal communication with the void creature, stood to the right of them. It looked like half a hood that was attached to the ceiling via an umbilical cord. The Tall-Yor.
Tokin gestured to it. "Dromin of domain Rag, your Gods have need of you."
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 16, 2019 9:07:20 GMT -8
Tokin left Numi and Dromin to test the connection with the Redeemer. He had much bigger talok to kill.
The Intendant Caste was still alive and well. Zonama Sekot was currently ruled by a council, of all things, but the Remnant government allocated areas of jurisdiction to its local prefects. Part of Tokin's plan was to use the Redeemer to escape the confines of their world, but this would mean nothing if they could not command the might of the rest of the Yuuzhan Vong. He needed political power, and he needed it before the Redeemer was fully functioning.
It was time to test the waters. "Orik; come," he said as he left the crevasse. "You will accompany me to prefect Qualoch's office. May the Yun'O be with us today."
A small distance away slept a creature Tokin used to transport him over long distances. He needed to appear important and influential for this to work, and could not arrive looking like he walked the entire way. The creature was crab-like in its appearance, though its front arms did not end in pincers, but rather bulbous spheres of chitin that were used to bludgeon those that got in the way. Tokin woke the creature by letting out a sharp but quick shriek, and climbed on its rough shell. Orik did the same.
The crab began its ponderous walk towards the local administrative centre of the region - Dush Yarma.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 16, 2019 11:02:23 GMT -8
The Seer's mind was lost in thought as they traversed the long, deserted path to Dush Yarma. The only thing of import on the horizon was the city itself; grashals and damuteks of many stories dominated the skyline, and flying biots carried the Yuuzhan Vong passengers to and from the hive of activity. Behind Tokin, to the west, was the plume of smoke that appeared seasonally. With everything going on he had forgotten about the infidels offering the hand of cooperation. It sickened him to think of the prospect, but he also remembers being intrigued by the proposition.
Loathe though he may be to think it, if he cannot make progress with prefect Qualoch, then he may need to seek outside help. He would have to commune with the Gods to know their will when it came to interactions with the heathens of this galaxy, however. He did not imagine them condoning such cooperation.
The crab only crushed two slaves before depositing the Seer and the Warrior before the main grashal of the city. The arrival drew attention, which is exactly what Tokin had been hoping for. His particular robeskin was decades old; he had worked with a servant of one of the consuls to entice the creature to grow only at the cape that flew at his back, leaving the rest of the attire at perfect length. Its teeth sunk into his chest and it fed from his sweat and oils from his skin. Perfect harmony granted by the Yun'o.
Orik was imposing. A Warrior fully encased in his living Vonduun armour, the amphistaff wrapped around his waist seemed interested in the activity around them. Though more 'progressive' than the Empire that had invaded the galaxy, the Remnant - rightly so, in Tokin's opinion - still made use of slaves for most of its menial tasks. The old client race - the Chazrach - was still bred by the Shapers to be of use to the Chosen Race. Their green, reptilian forms scuttered around them, oblivious to the history that was developing before them.
The prefect's office was in the main grashal. It was a shell many stories high, taking years to grow to the requisite size before the creature within was devoured. Orik followed Tokin inside; the orifice that allowed them entrance relaxed like a sphincter and then contracted once more to close behind them.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 18, 2019 13:56:52 GMT -8
The Intendant Caste, being quietly very powerful within the political structure of the Remnant, had enough influence to ensure that the grashal had some Warriors stationed within. Though the Chosen Ones were not currently at war, it was a sign for those who knew how to look. The prefect commanded the respect of the militant Warrior Caste, and therefore were powerful in their own right.
Tokin brought Orik for that very same reason. The prefect was not the only one who had the Warrior Caste's ear, and although the Seer did not have the access to the top of the hierarchy, no one else needed to know that. He brought Orik along to show that he had influence, too. The birth marks on his Vonduun armour just added to the effect.
With his robeskin flowing behind him, Tokin moved through the grashal to the top floor. The central room housed the prefect and his aids and was sealed by sphincter muscles installed separately by Shapers once the creature that lived in the shell was devoured. Tokin touched the leathery muscle and it relaxed, opening to allow the duo through.
The Seer entered, followed by the imposing Warrior. No Chazrach slaves were involved in the running of the region, only the Chosen Ones had the mental ability and the ordination of the Gods to carry out that most sacred role. The large room was a hive of activity. A row of villips were active. Inverted creatures that resembled the heads of those with whom the user communicated, each one was engaged in a conversation with a consul or other attendant of the prefect. Such creatures allowed instantaneous, long-distance communication; required for government use.
Two warriors stood by the prefect's throne, and sitting on a pulsating, red hau polyp was the prefect himself.
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 19, 2019 13:55:54 GMT -8
Tokin had expected to be impressed. The prefect was the Chosen One in charge of the region where the crevasse - and therefore the Redeemer - was located. He had the final say and ultimate power over the things that went on in the area. Tokin expected him to be tall, muscular and imposing. Qualloch, however, was noting of the sort. He was hunched over a portable qahsa, face covered by a cognition hood that linked his conscious to the information contained within. Tokin stood and eyed the two protectors. "I am Seer Tokin Herr, and I'm here to see the Prefect."
One of the Warriors grunted and placed a hand on the prefect's shoulder. He carefully removed the cognition hood to look upon his visitors.
Qualloch, as befitting of someone of his station, had removed his ears and grafted a creature to his skull. Tokin had seen it before; it adhered itself to the skull of the recipient with tendrils piercing the brain via the holes that used to be used for hearing. The creature wrapped around the back of Qualloch's head. It absorbed soundwaves and delivered the information directly to the brain, so Qualloch could still hear, but the slug-like creature's main use was an expansion of 'processing power'. Qualloch could take in vast amounts of data and process this infinitely quicker than Tokin could, for example.
Another example of perfection granted by Yun-Yuuzhan and the Yun'O.
"Prefect. I come with a proposition," the Seer eyed the two Warriors and the menials in the chamber. "We need to talk privately."
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 23, 2019 2:01:05 GMT -8
The prefect was obviously displeased at being disturbed, more so by the apparent brashness of one such as Tokin, who had lost all his influence and authority when his invasion of Dantooine turned sour. Not willing to give them the exact privacy the Seer had asked for, Qualloch took them to a small alcove in the chamber. Nearby menials, consuls and their underlings could still overhear their conversations. Grown from the shell was a knee-high protrusion used as a bench. Qualloch sat, and so did Tokin.
Orik decided to block the view of the alcove with his intimidating and very real presence. Tokin admired the quick-thinking. The Warrior caste was not one known for its innovation. In fact, innovation was seen as heresy. The glorious, perfect organic technology the Chosen Ones possessed was provided by Yun-Harla, the trickster goddess, to Yun-Ne'Shel, the Shaper goddess. This information was, technically, stolen from the glorious Yun-Yuuzhan and as this knowledge came directly from him, it is believed that improvements or variations thereof are impossible, improper and also the work of heretics.
Once upon a time Tokin agreed with this vehemently. He was now much more wise and mature, and having spent days and days praying on the matter, had come to the conclusion that innovation was not heresy. Yun-Yuuzhan had provided them with intelligence and it would be a disgrace not to use that intelligence. Such thoughts were still dangerous, even in the more progressive Remnant.
"What do you want?" snapped Qualloch.
Tokin was used to disrespect, but the disdain he was now subject to still irked him. He would show them; once the Redeemer was void-worthy, he would raise the Remnant from their prison and hold the galaxy by the throat once more. He also had to tread carefully; should he offend the prefect then there was every chance he would not leave this grashal with his life intact.
"I will make this brief. I do not want to be in your presence any longer than necessary ," - Tokin had found in the past that haughty, holier-than-thou attitude often worked with influential figures. He was a member of the Priest caste, which was still considered one of the most powerful in Remnant society. He still had the pleasure of interpreting the will of the Yun'O. He knew what he was doing was right. It was what the Gods wanted, and they were lending their power to see it happen. Tokin only needed to look at the members of the scheme - a Seer, a Shaper and a Warrior. Each a representative of different Gods in their pantheon. What more proof was required? He felt energised by this infallible logic. "I am an instrument of the Gods' will, and I am on a holy mission to launch us into the void once more."
He had thought about how he would ask for help. The prefect was well-known within the area, and Tokin knew if he asked for help directly then this would likely be rebuffed. Qualloch had all the power he ever wanted and was quite happy for the Remnant to remain the way it was, because that was how he would hold onto that power. Tokin needed to change his way of thinking.
"The Gods demand your assistance. Help me release us from this prison, in service to the Yun'O, and be greatly rewarded."
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Ayeniner
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Post by Ayeniner on Mar 26, 2019 11:17:11 GMT -8
A glint in the prefect's eye. Tokin knew he had him, then. It was all it took; the Seer's plan would be accelerated with the assistance of the Intendant Caste. "All Chosen Ones live to serve the Gods, as I serve them daily right now. What is it you want from me?"
The time to be cautious was behind him. Tokin stood, his regal robeskin cloak granting an air of authority and gravitas that drove his presence home. "I am providing religious oversight, guidance and leadership to the creation of a Yorik-stronha. Once it is void-worthy and blessed by the Gods I intend to take her on a maiden voyage to acquire sacrifices, bringing them back here. I will require your aid in organising the sacrifice."
It was now or never.
"This sacrifice will hasten our journey back to the void, creating a shipwomb to grow more vessels and once again bringing the only Truth to the galaxy. Those who do not submit will be cleansed. This sacrifice will see the Remnant changed, and myself elevated to the Most Holy. No longer will the Remnant, our glorious race, be led by the impious leaders of the Warrior caste seduced by power. It is time for someone appropriately educated in our most sacred religion to manifest the will of the Yun'O."
He paused. Orik had stepped aside to allow those present in the chamber to watch the conversation unfold. Again, innovative thinking for a Warrior. The fact that they were being watched by Qualloch's potential replacements would weigh heavily on his decision-making. I have to give Orik more credit, he thought. "I will of course reward those who helped me carry out the will of the Gods."
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