Post by EmperorMyric on Mar 22, 2021 15:45:34 GMT
"Did you hear it?"
Darkness, it was all Skalia saw, the normally comforting hum of her concerts constant conversations and meandering was gone.
"We heard it yes."
Voices? A womens first, but broken, like pebbles over a grate.
"The white queen is ours! an archon of our own... we must move quickly the lambs must be bought to pasture."
And a mans deep and formal.
"And what of the gem?"
The what, where was she who where they?
"Take it make it ours deny their pets everything! EVERYTHING."
//Unexplored system #42\\
A fleet had been sent, not a large one by Annointed standards, but one the shades believed would be more than enough to take the artefact and large enough to consign any humans they found to final safety,.
The fleet leaves its worm holes hauntingly slow, the normal white and gold resplendent heraldry replaced by the black and bone white of the heretics vessels, the dreadnought SS Safe from none leads its fleet into formation, its two accompanying battleships fanning out to its sides while the four cruisers and eight frigates move into screening positions around the fleets core.
The _Safe from none_strikes a cutting image, long rib cage like protrusions wrap around the ships hull, two structures shaped like skeletal hands pull the ribs open and a easily detected pulse of psionic energy roils from the growth.
"we have arrived lord ventera, scans have begun"
At first glance the man within the command throne could easily be mistaken for a skeleton, closer inspection shows that his armour had simply been designed to appear as such, his skull like helmet tilts to the left and he drags a finger over his thrones arm rest.
"Let us see what we can see see see, out here in. The dark blue sea seas sea."
The system was a small one. A white dwarf sat at its center, surrounded by a trio of rocky worlds orbiting at various distances. The second world from the star was the only one of any note. Orbiting yhe world was a hulk of broken metal.
Upon closer inspection the hulk revealed itself as a ship. It was similar in design and dimension to those used by the Black Sail Organization, but it seemed like an aged design. The ship bore none of the insignia of the Organization, the only identifying marker on the ship itself was a faded and illegible set of lettering.
The ship gave off a weak signal, some kind of an automated distress beacon that had long since lost the power necessary to broadcast outside of the system
"Begin charging jump drives, and bring us with in two and a half AU."
The fleet flares to life as it obeys its lords order, brilliant blue plumes of ions fly free of the ships thrusters as grand vaults of reactors poor energy into the drives, gravitic distortions flare to life as grav engines assist the mighty vessels acceleration andupon coming within 3AU the Safe from none turns its interdiction wells on and the entire fleet charges weapons.
"All ships come to a head hold at two point five AU."
Gravity reverses and breaking thrusters flare as the void craft draw to a halt.
"Cruiser four load spinal."
"Spinal loaded."
"Fire on the vessel"
"Firing"
With a shaking of the ships super structure a single slug is fired toward the derelict, the rounds glowing outer form shining bright in the inky depths of space.
The ship was dead, plain and simple. It didn't have the power to muster any defense and even if it did its automated systems had long since encountered catastrophic system errors that made any defense impossible.
It was a husk. A corpse. A remnant of another earth, in another dimension.
The fleet drops its interdiction as the shell approaches, phasing out the leviathan of a shell passes cleanly through the derelict.
"It appears as if we are alone my lord"
"Perfect spread the frigates and have one of the cruisers close."
Spreading out into a ring the eight ten kilometre frigates activate their interdiction drives creating a massive 6AU exclusion zone.
"Deploying mines."
Heralded by the release of several plumes of gaseous white vapour the relatively small ships deploy swarms of drones into space the spheroid nuclear devices spreading out even as they disappeared from view.
The SS Shimmering skull pulls within four kilometres of the ghost ship and launches a pair of elephant landers, the boxy ships pulling close and attaching to the ageing hull.
"We have contact."
The inside of the ship was as derelict as the outside. There was no artificial gravity, no atmosphere, and most of the lights had either stopped working or flickered ominously.
Shadows seemed to swirl and move across the walls of the vessel, but as soon as one tried to look at them they stood still and static, appearing normal. They only moved when in the corner of one's eyes.
Forty black clad soldiers now occupy the twisting and shadowy halls, pallid white bone highlights curve elegantly with the gentle slopes of their long coats, the forty break into teams of ten, eight conversion riflemen a single AM grenadier and a crimson clad Red letter day soldier composing each team, with a burst of movement they begin to fan out into the ship, silently, hands on guns, fingers on triggers and eyes on sensors.
Shadows continued to dance and swirl on the edge of sight. For its part the ship remained cold and lifeless. The only sound to be heard was the occasional groan of metal as time and gravity worked tirelessly to break up what remained of the once proud vessel.
Sensors and eyes alike turned up nothing and no one.
And yet there was a sound, not unlike whispering that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
The words were too quiet to properly make out.
The leading Red letter soldiers hold up a balled fist in an entirely ceremonial move as the squads linked meta concert allowed for instantaneous order and data sharing, coming to a halt the fire teams take up defensive positions around their squad leader as the red armored soldiers attempt to listen more intently to the whispering voices.
For a moment it seemed that much like the shifting shadows, attempting to focus on the whispers would only cause them to cease. As the soldier focused, the whispers died away...
But then they returned. Disjointed phrases that meant little on their own.
She's here!
She'll ruin everything!
Come... as you are...
Kill the Black Hand
More whispers followed but the last rapidly became the moat prevalent. Repeating over and over growing in volume and intensity until 13 seperate voices were chanting the phrase as one.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand!
KILL THE BLACK HAND!
And then, as quickly as they had started, they stopped.
The squads stood stock still listening to the strange voices insistently demand the death of the "Black Hand" with passive faces, shades lacked the full breadth of emotions that their more refined cousins among the Annointed had and what for most would be an unsettling experience was for them a minor discomfort at worst.
"Ignore the meandering of ghosts you fools! Find the rock."
The harsh voice of Ventara cuts through the Demi choir the four squads had been sharing and snaps the psi life forms into action the halls once again echoing with the soft sound of grav cushioned boots as the heretics resumed their search of the ageing vessel
Seconds passed in silence as the soldiers were once again free to search unhindered by the angry whispers of the long dead. The ship itself remained cold and silent, and the stone ever elusive. One hour became two. Then three. Then four, and finally on the fifth it was found.
Deep within the heart of the ship was some kind of command bridge. Most of the electronics were broken and unusable but a few screens still glowed dully, displaying the millions of error messages they had accumulated over the years.
Corpses floated, frozen and long since dead in the bridge... and clutched in the hand of a grey haired man, was a sparkling diamond.
They'll ruin everything
The whispers said.
The squad that found the diamond was led by none other than red one himself, the leader of red squad and arguably the strongest psion among the heretic forces his helmet melted away into his neck brace as he and his men fanned lit onto the bridge in a small circle around the brilliant gem and its less than lively holder, approaching alone red halts a few feet away from the free floating corpse and opens his mouth.
"And just how would we ruin everything?"
His voice rings both verbally and telepathically through the air as he addresses the disembodied wraiths.
A cacophony of answers came. Thirteen voices in hundreds of languages shouting, whispering, and talking all at once. It was impossible to determine an answer out of the cacophony but slowly the voices once again began to chant.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand.
The voices fell silent.
"Not you," All thirteen answered at once.
"Well thats good to know."
Red responds with a light chuckle before striding forward the last few feet confidently and wrapping his hand around the gem intending to pry it from the long dead humans ghoulish fingers.
The moment his fingers brushed the gem something felt off. It was impossible to say entirely what until one tried to pull away. His hand remained locked around the gem. The whispers became a cacophonous shout and then faded away to nothing. The ship itself faded into blackness leaving Red One in an empty void, hand still clutched around the gem.
Kill the Black Hand,
A single voice whispered.
With a sudden jolt he found himself in a cockpit, not one of Anointed design. Interestingly, he wasn't the one flying the ship. There was another, a woman by the curve of her flight suit, who piloted the vessel.
"Target coordinates are being patched through now. Sound off once you've recieved them,"
One by one pilots sounded off acknowledging the coordinates.
"Please!" Someone shouted over the radio. "Don't do this! We are a peaceful people!"
"Don't listen to them!" A second voice answered. "They're not real!"
"Sixty seconds to target," The pilot of Red One's fighter answered.
"Please!" The someone shouted again, further arguments was cut off when the pilot reached out a hand and flicked a switch, drowning out the voice in a crescendo of music.
And I swear, that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
"Grim Reaper in position," The woman declared finally. Moments passed in silence, a thumb caressing a firing button before a decision was finally made.
"Fox one."
He heard, rather than saw the missile launch. Three followed after it before the pilot pulled up towards the outer atmosphere. More pilots reported successful launches as the unmistakable flashes of thermonuclear detonations began to light up the sky behind them.
And I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
The vision faded away replaced by an empty concrete room. A table sat at its center, two chairs on either side and a door that led... elsewhere. Before much thought could be given to the new surroundings the door opened, admitting a young brunette woman who took a seat on one side of the table with a sigh.
"So, you must be the one who found the Diamond, hm?"
Red one takes the visions in stride, he was a long lived creature after all and it would be unseemly of one as venerable as himself to lose face over simple hallucinations, glancing down red takes note of the gems refusal to leave his hand and decides to simply accept his fate in regards the to the stubborn rocks adhesion to his hand.
"Yes it would appear so."
He responds raising his hand and shaking the diamond experimentally.
The diamond fell from his hand and clattered onto the table loudly. The woman glanced briefly at it and then at him.
"There are only three people alive who had any idea what that was and where to find it," The woman said, leaning back in her chair.
"One is me, and I didn't tell you. The second is Crawley, and he certainly didn't tell you... and the third is Trinny O'fuckingShea," The woman chuckled. "I suspected rumors of the Black Sail Organization's demise were overexagerated. How overexagerated if you don't mind my asking?"
The diamond glows a light purple and raises from its resting place on the floor as Red manipulates his telekinetic field in order to avoid touching the cursed rock.
"Whats it to you?"
He enquires
With a flick of her fingers the diamond sailed out of Red One's telekinetic grasp and into the woman's hand. She slammed it down on the table with a resounding clang and smiled.
"This is mine," She said. "I didn't ask for it, but it's mine all the same and I'd very much like to know how you found it, because it wasn't meant to be found, and moreover I'd like to know exactly how Trinny O'Shea managed to tell you about it from an alleged grave around the broken remnants of Freeport 81."
Red one tilts his head slightly, having something wrenched from his telekinetic grip was an honestly new experience for the gestalt and was throwing him very slightly of kilter.
"Trinny O'Shea did not inform me of the diamonds location."
Red one supplies simply.
"The information was extracted from a contractor named Kirsten Vane, she is currently my puppet and host."
"Puppet, and host are generally two words I don't like to hear coming out of a psion's mouth," The woman said simply.
"Kirsten Vane, suspected contract broker for the Black Sail Organization, known associates are Leanne Devereaux, also a conrtract broker, and Trinny fucking O'Shea. All missing presumed dead at the siege of Freeport 81,"
She chuckled and rubbed her eyes.
"They always said pirates were like cockroaches. Who else survived? Grim Reaper? Rufus Wolfgang? Sol Fenrir? Sarah Drake?"
"As of this time i can confirm that Caroline was alive last we saw her as is wolf gang, unfortunately due to the limitations of my species and our unique relationship with the church vessels records on the others are incomplete at this time."
Deciding that lying was a waste of time Red divulged with what little information he had available freely, it didn't matter at the end of the day after all.
"Are you human?" Red inquires.
"Yes? No? Maybe? I don't know," The woman answered. "Depends on who you ask, which team has been posting better success numbers, and what test everyone's talking about. Some days they say I'm as human as they come, other days I might as well have blue feathers and scales. Tell me about the Organization. Where are they located? How many ships do they have? How much money are they grossing? How many Freeports have they established?"
"The question of course arises, why should i divulge with this information freely?"
Moving forward Red takes a seat, his coat moving aside with a gentle shove to allow him to sit more comfortably.
"Because you already have," The woman answered. "You answered the most important question of all: is the Black Sail Organization still a viable threat? Almost certainly. You'll provoke a response. The details only determine what type of response,"
She smiled and leaned in.
"So what type of response would you like?"
Tilting his head Red weighs his options for a moment, while his organisation was currently in open hostilities with his sister ships a tinge of loyalty did still remain to what many among the Annointed considered to be shining examples of their vision for mankind, however, red mused nothing tempers steel like fire.
"The BSO currently has an unknown number of free ports, i know of two, in regards to money..."
Red smiles and leans his elbows onto the table.
"They are currently supplying fifteen of our world ships with narcotics, each world ship is home to seven billion individuals for a grand total of sixty billion people requiring a very large supply, before long they will supply fifty world ships with narcotics for a total market of three hundred and fifty billion people, this is before taking into account income for other contracts, lethalons slave freeing expedition and the myriad other contracts they have with the denizens of the Ancerious galaxy."
"Unless of course you're lying to me," The woman said. "Trying to provoke a larger response and destroy your enemies? You've admitted to possessing a known broker and forcibly extracting information from her. You certainly don't sound like friends of the Organization."
The Annointed is friends to all of mankind.
He responds with a smilie.
"We are after all your dearest children and you our most sacred creators, it is just unfortunate that sometimes to protect you we must also hurt you."
Red runs his tongue over his teeth as he finishes and his smile widens.
"But like all families as large as ours sometimes the children argue over how best to take care of our ageing progenitor, we and the shades believe you will be safest in the afterlife where none can harm you, the Annointed believe that ultimate freedom is mankinds supreme destiny, for who knows if the afterlife is truly safe from the cloying hands of the UAE."
"Interesting but incorrect," The woman replied. "If humans made you, they weren't us. You don't owe us anything and even if you did I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be buying what you're selling,"
She leaned in and rested her chin on her hands, smirking ever so slightly.
"Seems a bit odd that a people so intent on exterminating humanity would spend millions on drugs from a criminal syndicate made of predominantly humans. Still leaves it up to interpretation whether you can be trusted. Well that's a problem for the politicians. I'm sure they'll argue for weeks before determining a course of action... and who knows what will happen after that,"
"There seems to have been a critical break down in communication at some point, i apologise, i am not Annointed i am Red Letter, I seek your extermination, the Annointed seek instead to guide you and protect you despite such a task being truiy impossible."
He corrects.
"And it matters not that you didn't make us with your own hands you are still human after all, the difference between a Palestinian and an American is simple geography much like the difference between you and our progenitor is simple geography, you're still human and there for are still our creators."
Red winds down from his tangent and slouches slightly.
"Will your politicians seek the BSO's destruction?"
"Depends entirely on whether or not you believe in fate," The woman answered with a sly grin.
"The fateless would say maybe. Sure Black Sail are unfashionable back home right now. They're bloodthirsty pirates after all... but they've paid so many politicians so much money over the years. And they represent an opportunity to exploit the resources of another dimension. Think of the upper hand we could gain in the wars. Or worse, the upper hand our enemies would. There will be counters and counters-counters and when it comes time to vote who knows what will happen...
The fateful on the other hand... they see two powerful psions sitting across from eacother. Communicating across an impossibly vaste distance. And one of those two psions is alone, the only of her kind, and thanks to the psionic imprint she left upon a piece of jewlery she now knows where to find the other. If this where a story, what would happen next? Why... she'd go of course."
Red raises a hand to his chin and drags the rough fabric of his glove over his faux skin in a scratching motion he looks vacantly over the psions shoulder.
"Then i look forward to meeting you."
His eyes drift down to meet hers.
"I can only wonder, will this story be a happy one for the fateful, or is it to end like a greek tragedy, in tears and death?"
"Every story ends the same friend," She said with a widening of her grin.
"We all fall down."
And then she was gone and he was back on the ship, diamond clutched in hand and the whispering silent.
Red begins to laugh, a low measured laugh at first but quickly he descends into unrestrained spunds of glee and happiness.
He reaches through his choir and back into his hosts mind his voice full of excitement.
"Oh Kirsten i have such an exciting story to share!"
Darkness, it was all Skalia saw, the normally comforting hum of her concerts constant conversations and meandering was gone.
"We heard it yes."
Voices? A womens first, but broken, like pebbles over a grate.
"The white queen is ours! an archon of our own... we must move quickly the lambs must be bought to pasture."
And a mans deep and formal.
"And what of the gem?"
The what, where was she who where they?
"Take it make it ours deny their pets everything! EVERYTHING."
//Unexplored system #42\\
A fleet had been sent, not a large one by Annointed standards, but one the shades believed would be more than enough to take the artefact and large enough to consign any humans they found to final safety,.
The fleet leaves its worm holes hauntingly slow, the normal white and gold resplendent heraldry replaced by the black and bone white of the heretics vessels, the dreadnought SS Safe from none leads its fleet into formation, its two accompanying battleships fanning out to its sides while the four cruisers and eight frigates move into screening positions around the fleets core.
The _Safe from none_strikes a cutting image, long rib cage like protrusions wrap around the ships hull, two structures shaped like skeletal hands pull the ribs open and a easily detected pulse of psionic energy roils from the growth.
"we have arrived lord ventera, scans have begun"
At first glance the man within the command throne could easily be mistaken for a skeleton, closer inspection shows that his armour had simply been designed to appear as such, his skull like helmet tilts to the left and he drags a finger over his thrones arm rest.
"Let us see what we can see see see, out here in. The dark blue sea seas sea."
The system was a small one. A white dwarf sat at its center, surrounded by a trio of rocky worlds orbiting at various distances. The second world from the star was the only one of any note. Orbiting yhe world was a hulk of broken metal.
Upon closer inspection the hulk revealed itself as a ship. It was similar in design and dimension to those used by the Black Sail Organization, but it seemed like an aged design. The ship bore none of the insignia of the Organization, the only identifying marker on the ship itself was a faded and illegible set of lettering.
The ship gave off a weak signal, some kind of an automated distress beacon that had long since lost the power necessary to broadcast outside of the system
"Begin charging jump drives, and bring us with in two and a half AU."
The fleet flares to life as it obeys its lords order, brilliant blue plumes of ions fly free of the ships thrusters as grand vaults of reactors poor energy into the drives, gravitic distortions flare to life as grav engines assist the mighty vessels acceleration andupon coming within 3AU the Safe from none turns its interdiction wells on and the entire fleet charges weapons.
"All ships come to a head hold at two point five AU."
Gravity reverses and breaking thrusters flare as the void craft draw to a halt.
"Cruiser four load spinal."
"Spinal loaded."
"Fire on the vessel"
"Firing"
With a shaking of the ships super structure a single slug is fired toward the derelict, the rounds glowing outer form shining bright in the inky depths of space.
The ship was dead, plain and simple. It didn't have the power to muster any defense and even if it did its automated systems had long since encountered catastrophic system errors that made any defense impossible.
It was a husk. A corpse. A remnant of another earth, in another dimension.
The fleet drops its interdiction as the shell approaches, phasing out the leviathan of a shell passes cleanly through the derelict.
"It appears as if we are alone my lord"
"Perfect spread the frigates and have one of the cruisers close."
Spreading out into a ring the eight ten kilometre frigates activate their interdiction drives creating a massive 6AU exclusion zone.
"Deploying mines."
Heralded by the release of several plumes of gaseous white vapour the relatively small ships deploy swarms of drones into space the spheroid nuclear devices spreading out even as they disappeared from view.
The SS Shimmering skull pulls within four kilometres of the ghost ship and launches a pair of elephant landers, the boxy ships pulling close and attaching to the ageing hull.
"We have contact."
The inside of the ship was as derelict as the outside. There was no artificial gravity, no atmosphere, and most of the lights had either stopped working or flickered ominously.
Shadows seemed to swirl and move across the walls of the vessel, but as soon as one tried to look at them they stood still and static, appearing normal. They only moved when in the corner of one's eyes.
Forty black clad soldiers now occupy the twisting and shadowy halls, pallid white bone highlights curve elegantly with the gentle slopes of their long coats, the forty break into teams of ten, eight conversion riflemen a single AM grenadier and a crimson clad Red letter day soldier composing each team, with a burst of movement they begin to fan out into the ship, silently, hands on guns, fingers on triggers and eyes on sensors.
Shadows continued to dance and swirl on the edge of sight. For its part the ship remained cold and lifeless. The only sound to be heard was the occasional groan of metal as time and gravity worked tirelessly to break up what remained of the once proud vessel.
Sensors and eyes alike turned up nothing and no one.
And yet there was a sound, not unlike whispering that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere all at once.
The words were too quiet to properly make out.
The leading Red letter soldiers hold up a balled fist in an entirely ceremonial move as the squads linked meta concert allowed for instantaneous order and data sharing, coming to a halt the fire teams take up defensive positions around their squad leader as the red armored soldiers attempt to listen more intently to the whispering voices.
For a moment it seemed that much like the shifting shadows, attempting to focus on the whispers would only cause them to cease. As the soldier focused, the whispers died away...
But then they returned. Disjointed phrases that meant little on their own.
She's here!
She'll ruin everything!
Come... as you are...
Kill the Black Hand
More whispers followed but the last rapidly became the moat prevalent. Repeating over and over growing in volume and intensity until 13 seperate voices were chanting the phrase as one.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand!
KILL THE BLACK HAND!
And then, as quickly as they had started, they stopped.
The squads stood stock still listening to the strange voices insistently demand the death of the "Black Hand" with passive faces, shades lacked the full breadth of emotions that their more refined cousins among the Annointed had and what for most would be an unsettling experience was for them a minor discomfort at worst.
"Ignore the meandering of ghosts you fools! Find the rock."
The harsh voice of Ventara cuts through the Demi choir the four squads had been sharing and snaps the psi life forms into action the halls once again echoing with the soft sound of grav cushioned boots as the heretics resumed their search of the ageing vessel
Seconds passed in silence as the soldiers were once again free to search unhindered by the angry whispers of the long dead. The ship itself remained cold and silent, and the stone ever elusive. One hour became two. Then three. Then four, and finally on the fifth it was found.
Deep within the heart of the ship was some kind of command bridge. Most of the electronics were broken and unusable but a few screens still glowed dully, displaying the millions of error messages they had accumulated over the years.
Corpses floated, frozen and long since dead in the bridge... and clutched in the hand of a grey haired man, was a sparkling diamond.
They'll ruin everything
The whispers said.
The squad that found the diamond was led by none other than red one himself, the leader of red squad and arguably the strongest psion among the heretic forces his helmet melted away into his neck brace as he and his men fanned lit onto the bridge in a small circle around the brilliant gem and its less than lively holder, approaching alone red halts a few feet away from the free floating corpse and opens his mouth.
"And just how would we ruin everything?"
His voice rings both verbally and telepathically through the air as he addresses the disembodied wraiths.
A cacophony of answers came. Thirteen voices in hundreds of languages shouting, whispering, and talking all at once. It was impossible to determine an answer out of the cacophony but slowly the voices once again began to chant.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand.
Kill the Black Hand.
The voices fell silent.
"Not you," All thirteen answered at once.
"Well thats good to know."
Red responds with a light chuckle before striding forward the last few feet confidently and wrapping his hand around the gem intending to pry it from the long dead humans ghoulish fingers.
The moment his fingers brushed the gem something felt off. It was impossible to say entirely what until one tried to pull away. His hand remained locked around the gem. The whispers became a cacophonous shout and then faded away to nothing. The ship itself faded into blackness leaving Red One in an empty void, hand still clutched around the gem.
Kill the Black Hand,
A single voice whispered.
With a sudden jolt he found himself in a cockpit, not one of Anointed design. Interestingly, he wasn't the one flying the ship. There was another, a woman by the curve of her flight suit, who piloted the vessel.
"Target coordinates are being patched through now. Sound off once you've recieved them,"
One by one pilots sounded off acknowledging the coordinates.
"Please!" Someone shouted over the radio. "Don't do this! We are a peaceful people!"
"Don't listen to them!" A second voice answered. "They're not real!"
"Sixty seconds to target," The pilot of Red One's fighter answered.
"Please!" The someone shouted again, further arguments was cut off when the pilot reached out a hand and flicked a switch, drowning out the voice in a crescendo of music.
And I swear, that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
"Grim Reaper in position," The woman declared finally. Moments passed in silence, a thumb caressing a firing button before a decision was finally made.
"Fox one."
He heard, rather than saw the missile launch. Three followed after it before the pilot pulled up towards the outer atmosphere. More pilots reported successful launches as the unmistakable flashes of thermonuclear detonations began to light up the sky behind them.
And I swear that I don't have a gun
No I don't have a gun
The vision faded away replaced by an empty concrete room. A table sat at its center, two chairs on either side and a door that led... elsewhere. Before much thought could be given to the new surroundings the door opened, admitting a young brunette woman who took a seat on one side of the table with a sigh.
"So, you must be the one who found the Diamond, hm?"
Red one takes the visions in stride, he was a long lived creature after all and it would be unseemly of one as venerable as himself to lose face over simple hallucinations, glancing down red takes note of the gems refusal to leave his hand and decides to simply accept his fate in regards the to the stubborn rocks adhesion to his hand.
"Yes it would appear so."
He responds raising his hand and shaking the diamond experimentally.
The diamond fell from his hand and clattered onto the table loudly. The woman glanced briefly at it and then at him.
"There are only three people alive who had any idea what that was and where to find it," The woman said, leaning back in her chair.
"One is me, and I didn't tell you. The second is Crawley, and he certainly didn't tell you... and the third is Trinny O'fuckingShea," The woman chuckled. "I suspected rumors of the Black Sail Organization's demise were overexagerated. How overexagerated if you don't mind my asking?"
The diamond glows a light purple and raises from its resting place on the floor as Red manipulates his telekinetic field in order to avoid touching the cursed rock.
"Whats it to you?"
He enquires
With a flick of her fingers the diamond sailed out of Red One's telekinetic grasp and into the woman's hand. She slammed it down on the table with a resounding clang and smiled.
"This is mine," She said. "I didn't ask for it, but it's mine all the same and I'd very much like to know how you found it, because it wasn't meant to be found, and moreover I'd like to know exactly how Trinny O'Shea managed to tell you about it from an alleged grave around the broken remnants of Freeport 81."
Red one tilts his head slightly, having something wrenched from his telekinetic grip was an honestly new experience for the gestalt and was throwing him very slightly of kilter.
"Trinny O'Shea did not inform me of the diamonds location."
Red one supplies simply.
"The information was extracted from a contractor named Kirsten Vane, she is currently my puppet and host."
"Puppet, and host are generally two words I don't like to hear coming out of a psion's mouth," The woman said simply.
"Kirsten Vane, suspected contract broker for the Black Sail Organization, known associates are Leanne Devereaux, also a conrtract broker, and Trinny fucking O'Shea. All missing presumed dead at the siege of Freeport 81,"
She chuckled and rubbed her eyes.
"They always said pirates were like cockroaches. Who else survived? Grim Reaper? Rufus Wolfgang? Sol Fenrir? Sarah Drake?"
"As of this time i can confirm that Caroline was alive last we saw her as is wolf gang, unfortunately due to the limitations of my species and our unique relationship with the church vessels records on the others are incomplete at this time."
Deciding that lying was a waste of time Red divulged with what little information he had available freely, it didn't matter at the end of the day after all.
"Are you human?" Red inquires.
"Yes? No? Maybe? I don't know," The woman answered. "Depends on who you ask, which team has been posting better success numbers, and what test everyone's talking about. Some days they say I'm as human as they come, other days I might as well have blue feathers and scales. Tell me about the Organization. Where are they located? How many ships do they have? How much money are they grossing? How many Freeports have they established?"
"The question of course arises, why should i divulge with this information freely?"
Moving forward Red takes a seat, his coat moving aside with a gentle shove to allow him to sit more comfortably.
"Because you already have," The woman answered. "You answered the most important question of all: is the Black Sail Organization still a viable threat? Almost certainly. You'll provoke a response. The details only determine what type of response,"
She smiled and leaned in.
"So what type of response would you like?"
Tilting his head Red weighs his options for a moment, while his organisation was currently in open hostilities with his sister ships a tinge of loyalty did still remain to what many among the Annointed considered to be shining examples of their vision for mankind, however, red mused nothing tempers steel like fire.
"The BSO currently has an unknown number of free ports, i know of two, in regards to money..."
Red smiles and leans his elbows onto the table.
"They are currently supplying fifteen of our world ships with narcotics, each world ship is home to seven billion individuals for a grand total of sixty billion people requiring a very large supply, before long they will supply fifty world ships with narcotics for a total market of three hundred and fifty billion people, this is before taking into account income for other contracts, lethalons slave freeing expedition and the myriad other contracts they have with the denizens of the Ancerious galaxy."
"Unless of course you're lying to me," The woman said. "Trying to provoke a larger response and destroy your enemies? You've admitted to possessing a known broker and forcibly extracting information from her. You certainly don't sound like friends of the Organization."
The Annointed is friends to all of mankind.
He responds with a smilie.
"We are after all your dearest children and you our most sacred creators, it is just unfortunate that sometimes to protect you we must also hurt you."
Red runs his tongue over his teeth as he finishes and his smile widens.
"But like all families as large as ours sometimes the children argue over how best to take care of our ageing progenitor, we and the shades believe you will be safest in the afterlife where none can harm you, the Annointed believe that ultimate freedom is mankinds supreme destiny, for who knows if the afterlife is truly safe from the cloying hands of the UAE."
"Interesting but incorrect," The woman replied. "If humans made you, they weren't us. You don't owe us anything and even if you did I'm pretty sure we wouldn't be buying what you're selling,"
She leaned in and rested her chin on her hands, smirking ever so slightly.
"Seems a bit odd that a people so intent on exterminating humanity would spend millions on drugs from a criminal syndicate made of predominantly humans. Still leaves it up to interpretation whether you can be trusted. Well that's a problem for the politicians. I'm sure they'll argue for weeks before determining a course of action... and who knows what will happen after that,"
"There seems to have been a critical break down in communication at some point, i apologise, i am not Annointed i am Red Letter, I seek your extermination, the Annointed seek instead to guide you and protect you despite such a task being truiy impossible."
He corrects.
"And it matters not that you didn't make us with your own hands you are still human after all, the difference between a Palestinian and an American is simple geography much like the difference between you and our progenitor is simple geography, you're still human and there for are still our creators."
Red winds down from his tangent and slouches slightly.
"Will your politicians seek the BSO's destruction?"
"Depends entirely on whether or not you believe in fate," The woman answered with a sly grin.
"The fateless would say maybe. Sure Black Sail are unfashionable back home right now. They're bloodthirsty pirates after all... but they've paid so many politicians so much money over the years. And they represent an opportunity to exploit the resources of another dimension. Think of the upper hand we could gain in the wars. Or worse, the upper hand our enemies would. There will be counters and counters-counters and when it comes time to vote who knows what will happen...
The fateful on the other hand... they see two powerful psions sitting across from eacother. Communicating across an impossibly vaste distance. And one of those two psions is alone, the only of her kind, and thanks to the psionic imprint she left upon a piece of jewlery she now knows where to find the other. If this where a story, what would happen next? Why... she'd go of course."
Red raises a hand to his chin and drags the rough fabric of his glove over his faux skin in a scratching motion he looks vacantly over the psions shoulder.
"Then i look forward to meeting you."
His eyes drift down to meet hers.
"I can only wonder, will this story be a happy one for the fateful, or is it to end like a greek tragedy, in tears and death?"
"Every story ends the same friend," She said with a widening of her grin.
"We all fall down."
And then she was gone and he was back on the ship, diamond clutched in hand and the whispering silent.
Red begins to laugh, a low measured laugh at first but quickly he descends into unrestrained spunds of glee and happiness.
He reaches through his choir and back into his hosts mind his voice full of excitement.
"Oh Kirsten i have such an exciting story to share!"