[b][u]Zuukind civil war zone, Celestuial bureaucracy controlled space. [/u][/b]

Rotatha 4 was an arid planet with two habitable areas around its poles that made up about 30% of its total surface. Colonised initially by Forensakai wanderers who had introduced a domesticated herd species best described as the animal equivalent of tumbleweed to the center desert regions to make it in some way useful, the world was only notable for being close to the border between the Celestial bureaucracy and the Republic of equals, two of the major factions in the Zuukid civil war. The civil war itself was in one of its colder periods, an armistice signed 5 years ago had led to an era of recovery for the opposed groups, one focused primarily around military build up, civilian relief, infrastructure repair, diplomatic intrigue,  political restructuring and, in the case of the republic, preparations for its first election in 125 years. Rotatha 4’s only real gain from this period was that the celestial bureaucracy had finally had time to focus on civilian affairs again, which had mainly involved sending agents of the bureaucracy to assist/interfere with things that had been handled locally out of necessity for fifty+ years. As part of this the town of Saltspire had received not one but two officially trained priests, though sadly the second had come to look for the absentee first.

Saltspire itself was a small settlement on the coast of one of Rotatha’s 3 seas, where its primary purpose was to maintain the large network of wind turbines situated out on the tid-less ocean beyond, as well as the related storage and transmission equipment. It was made up of a combination of prefabricated buildings set up by the original settlers and newer structures made out of local red stone, all surrounded by a ring of farmland. The only thing setting the place apart from a one belonging to a type 1 civilisation was the combined sea, air and space port nestled against the shore, a drab strip of concrete and aloys housing maintenance craft and small cargo haulers. The other stand out pieces of tech in the vicinity where found at the local temple, an unremarkable building denoted only by a large anchor shaped symbol bolted to the wall of an otherwise unremarkable larger redstone building. Inside the recently arrived priest, one Vemt Rasdathian, was holding mass with a disappointingly small congregation in a large chamber that had once been a meeting hall that was currently filled with a thin haze of blue smoke. Suspended in this smoke drifted the congregation, given an illusion of a freedom from gravity by 8 anti gravity field generators, each holding a meditative stance appropriate for their myriad of body structures. Giant hexapodal Rodorphins, their mouths covered in oxygen enriching equipment tailored to still let the hallucinogenic gas in the air in floated alongside stout Lonoxi drones, rugged Kalixurans and insectile Forensakai trying their best to avoid instinctive use of their wings. At the front was the priest himself, a Sethhanide clad in a red toga that reached down to the first half meter of his tail which itself was coiled into a neat bundle blow him. Adoring his head was a crown of red gold adorned with a small anchor made of onyx that held the spaced out serpents affixed to his skull in order as he preached to the assembled faithful.

The priest spoke of the Anchor, how it surrounds them all, how it held the galaxy together and how all its people should be united together in reverence of it. He guided the faithful in first relaxing, then meditating and and finally in entering a trance like state to try and open their minds to the Anchor’s wonder, to reach out with their spirits to make contact with that great universal soul, so that they might learn of their place in the universe, of their purpose. To find meaning in the seemingly chaotic galaxy, to see patterns in the madness. To achieve enlightenment. 

Eventually the session wound down, with the priest brining his flock back up out of the trance via a slow countdown, using a device to release a clear white mist into the room that scrubbed the air of the blue smoke and slowly turning down the anti-grav. The congregation drifted slowly back down to the floor and landed with varying degrees of grace. There was a small period of general mingaling afterwards during which most people drifted out of the temple. A handful stayed longer, wanting to talk either with each other or Vemt himself, but after a few minutes they too filtered out.

[i]And then she walked through my door. She was a Forensakai woman in early adulthood wearing a dark green Abolla that mostly hid the flight suit she had on underneath it. She was also trying to hid some kind of injury, 2 of her 4 hands pressed against her side covering a small patch of blood anyone not examining her closely wouldn't have noticed. Perhaps staggered was a better description of how she came in, because she gave up hiding the state she was in once the door slammed shut behind her and I was the only person who could see her. Hands freed from her side she fell into my arms when i rushed to her aid”[/i]

“Senfont? Is that you? Thank the Anchor” she muttered, her voice slurred and wracked with pain at the same time.

[i]Senfont. It was a surprise to hear someone actually familiar with the name of the man I had been sent here to replace. He’d been the first official priest this little town had had in years, he had apparently been instrumental in getting them one, and yet from what I’d gotten out of the locals he seems to have been an entirely absent figure from their community. He’d never introduced himself let alone held mass, that had been left to a local untrained preacher who had been doing improvised sessions for decades and who a lot of the populace still seem to prefer despite my arrival, yet had sent glowing reports of his positive effect on the community. Reports that the pencil pusher that sent me out here was still receiving by the way. Here then, completely out of the blue, was my first real link to that traitor and she was rapidly fading in my arms.[/i]

“Stay with me ok. Keep talking, tell me what happened while I try and help you” The priest used his long serpentine tail to support the woman as he used a small wrist mounted device to send a message to the only doctor the town had, asking for help.

“I. We were attacked. Damned snakes.” she managed ever so slowly

“Where? Here? Are we in danger?”

“No. no. got away. In the ship. Its safe.”

“Good. I’m going to help you with the wound. Where’s the ship?” 

[i]She was slipping away from me, must have used all her strength just to get here and now that strain was rapidly catching up with her[/i]

Vempt pulled the cloake aside revealing the flight suit beneath, which at her left side had been shredded by some kind of flechet weapon, creating a gruesome mess of cloth, carapace, and flesh through which she was losing blood. fast. As the priest futility tried to press the woman's cloak against the wound to stem the flow she managed a last “Dock. Hanger. 12.” before losing consciousness. The resident doctor arrived moments later, having been one of those attending the earlier session. 



[hr]

Vemt entered the back of the temple, his hands still covered in the woman’s blood. The doctor, an aged Lonoxi Queen who had had her long since had her pheromone glands removed, was taking care of her as best she could but was unsure if she would recover. [i]There's nothing more I can do for her, so I’ll need to follow up on what little she had given me while I waited to see if she would recover. I’d managed to get a look at her her personal effects and they had been telling: A small wrist communicator, locked by voice id. A series of wallets containing numerous, presumably fake, ids and a variety of currencies and battering chips including a number of microprocessors, compressed gold and vials of panacea. A force-knife and gauss pistol with a variety of munitions. She was, by my bet, some kind of smuggler or mercenary who made illegal trips to areas of the empire currently not under our control, and my predecessor had something to do with that, though what exactly I didn't know. The answer lay in the ship no doubt[/i]

The rear of the temple had more in familiar with a police station than it had with the depths of a temple. The drab dull space housed, among other things, a dedicated interrogation room, a weapons rack housing Pilums: short spear like weapons who’s two pronged blades were enhanced with force fields that let them stab or cut through near anything and could also fire lasers from a lense located between them, a selection of less lethal weapons and restraining devices, an attached garage housing an armored car mounted with a siren and painted in inquisitional colours, a small number of spy drones and a old fashioned billboard that had Vemt’s limited knowledge about Senfont pinned all over it. At the far end where a number of holding cells that had been blessedly empty upon his arrival, but now held one occupant. His ‘partner’ who had been secured safely behind the steel door, their only access to the outside world a small barred window. From within the armored chamber came a voice sounding like a low predatory growl tinged with iron. “Blood. Yours? No. Wrong kind. Hmmm. Wasp. Female. Your first kill?” The monster asked, its inflection making it clear that it believed such an event was well overdue.

“No. Someone who was shot. Smuggler probably. Might not recover” the beast moved like lightning inside its holding cell, armored talons grabbing at the bars of the tiny window as the beast pushed the visord dome covering the top of its head to the small gap, its six eyes barely visible below it. “Hunt”

Vemt took a few seconds to catch their breath. Both he and his serpents had recoiled in fear when the predator had surged forwards. Their natural predator, one enhanced with alloys and artificial sinew to the designs of some long dead mad genius. A Rekshai. [i]Anchor damn whichever clerk had decided I needed this things’s assistance.[/i]

“You will be staying here. You’ll only scare the people here and it's been difficult enough getting them on side without having a monster following me around”

“Death. Danger. Protocall demands I go” the beast told him matter of factly.

“Protocol be damned, I have evidence there’s no threat here. I am ordering you to stay here” He turned to wash the blood from his hands, the matter, in his mind, settled. 

“Have higher orders. To protect you” 

“Good luck fulfilling those orders inside that...” there was a hideous screeching of metal on metal interspersed by 3 metallic clunks and followed by the sound of the door unlocking. The beast pushed the door open, some of the bars on its window having been severed so that the Rekshai could reach through and down to unlock the door“...Cell”

The creature, designated REK 0001 6613 7906, was a two meter tall bipedal monster coated from head to toe in unremovable metal armor that had been painted a sharp regal blue, the color of the inquisition. Its head was mostly hidden by a helmet that left only the creatures mouth, a voracious maw filled with razor sharp teeth, tuly exposed while keeping the rest of its visage hidden beneath a cloudy visor. Running along its back where a number of long scythe blade like spines that it could used to communicate with members of its pack. Behind it was a long prehensile tale that undulate lazily, maintaining the creatures balance as it walked with an almost raptor like gait. It’s fingers and toes all ended with the claws it had cut its way out of the cell with, each as deadly as a Pilum’s blade. The freed monster stalked past the horrified priest and picked Pilums from the wall rack, tossing one at Vemt which the Sethhanide just barely caught in his fumbling bloody hands.

“Lead the hunt holy one.”

[i]Well then. this is one cobra that's not going back in the jar any time soon. Just my luck.[/i]