Private Myths, Monsters & Malediction

[Vivi Irius]

~152 Years Ago~

Forty-one thousand, six hundred fifty two days, fourteen hours, thirty-two minutes and seven seconds.

It was the exact amount of time it took for the Novatar to find the magnificent structure. The massive form of Novatar ingenuity languished for many myria-annum. Its once great halls festering with Entars, Kytars and Fytars alike. Instead, it remained here, tainted by the inevitable fate of time. Abandoned by their own due to unknown circumstances. In truth, anything left to wilt on such a massive scale as this could only have meant one thing.

Death.

Death to thousands of Novatar in an event that was locked away from the current generations knowledge. A secret of mystery in an age of answers. This was disturbing for the Novatar that had finally managed to travel far and wide for it. Many Novatar across generations prior to their own had heard of it, the very thing they now found in ruins. What they had come to call, "The Gyre." Even so, it was a marvel of Novatar innovation and a comprise of resources that otherwise wouldn't be possible without the Novatar species involved. Of course, with absence of those before them the question remained, what now?

This place was an amalgamation of all things the amorphous beings had tried to create and bring to the galaxy's heart. Their magnum opus of invention to bring balance to the stars among them. There was an uneasy feeling with this place however, and it resided in the depths of extra-galactic space as a suffocating reminder of the dangers that history had taught them. Repeating the same mistakes of their ancestors would only mean the same fate.

Then why? Why travel such an exhaustive amount of time to ignore the twisted hunger and yearning that was left behind for them. The longer they were fascinated by the towering cylindrical masterpiece before them, grasping tendrils of ghastly enticement pulled them deeper into obsession. The attraction behind the entire behemoth was a coalescence of a formulaic source that only Novatar were fond of, relied on and used for their own protection...Novatrite.

Never had they seen the obsidian metal stripped and torn from its former glory in such a horrific manner. Cracked and corroded from infinite years from exposure to the oceans below. The Gyre spanned twenty thousand kilometers in total, stretching to the sky and beyond. On the opposite end of that, whatever manifestation of cataclysmic event that transpired had forced half of it to dig into the deathly swamp of earth below, on whatever unfortunate planet it happened to make part of its own end. It was a destroyed metal construct of unequal proportions and it would take longer than the Novatar traveled to bring it back to its former glory.

Although all the signs pointed to danger, some Novatar refused to leave making the restoration of this once great invention of a Novatrite construct possible. Others, who heeded the warning of those before them decided to leave. These Novatar sought new places to find peace or belonging in the stars abound.

For those that stayed behind, the force gave them their answer and they began to perform rituals known as Loci to bind themselves to the sacred grounds of The Gyre.

Present Day - Unknown Regions - Extra-Galactic Space - Planet: Given Name: Andra Dominus
​

They were few now.

Numbered in only a few hundred, compared to the thousands that remained among the stars. It was evident how much of a project The Gyre would be to restore, but the losses that were endured for the last hundred years, stunted their efforts tremendously. Still, some remained, waiting for other Novatar to be beckoned to the great Andra Dominus, the name they gave the planet harboring an untouched portion of The Gyre. In a stint of one-hundred and fifty years, the engineers and masterminds behind Novatrite the Kytars, had completed the shell of the North-East quadrant of the old ancient structure. Regardless, their numbers were scarce and so they made due the only way they knew how. They continued to work with a sense of temperament and logical calculations to bring forth a manifestation of true Novatarian intellect.

However, the force ushered to them in droves of promises and ambition. It whispered to them about the course of major changes in the universe. It spoke of skewed energy, skewed favoritism, disease and war. It made them feel loss, growth and change within the ripples of pure intangible phenomenon. Despite the uncertainty of these whispers, the Novatar did what many may have not. They listened and believed the ushering torrent of invisible knowledge. The more they did, the more they became apparent of the galaxy and how important The Gyre would be once their involvement was necessary to correct the imbalance amongst the worlds in the void far away.

That would be then.

Now, new whispers spoke to a single Novatar. A Fytar, seeking answers among the Entar for purpose. Ironically, that purpose existed among incoming invaders, ones that were labeled as evil by most, but these Novatar knew destruction in many forms would be necessary for the galaxy to remain whole.

Sometimes, ashes were needed for new beginnings. At least, that's what Vivi Irius thought. He knew in the grand scheme of all, things would need to be destroyed and cleansed of impurity to bring a new balance to everything in existence. He had heard of the Entars and Kytars speaking their peace. They wanted a softer approach, one that entailed thinking about how they balanced the galaxy. A vision that didn't invite every world being destroyed or burned by the ranks of Fytars in their company.

Vivi didn't care, he had his own thoughts on the future for Fytars. He had seen centuries of cruelty among all races, including their own. Nothing couldn't change those scars and no healing or connection with a sacred place would change it. Still, those things didn't matter. For now, Vivi focused on the uneasy feeling from the void above. The whispers of the force chanted in circles around him as he floated, inches from the large body of water below.

A swamp filled with grime and soot, humid and pungent with the smell of sulfur, irons and salts. It mixed together as one toxic cloud of miasma and the difference in temperature between the water and hot air formed swirls of unpredictable fog. The trees and vines overtook most of the magnificence away, but the dead trees that spun their way around the construct was more impressive. The roots entwined over the mucky black below, as if feeding off whatever nourishment it was able to receive. It fascinated Vivi. Vivi didn't mind being here, dissecting the the indigenous fauna and flora. He took pride in learning, it allowed him ultimately to find answers that otherwise would be left unanswered to other Novatar. As a warrior of his kind, Vivi found peace in mundane tasks and growth of intellect. As a Fytar, he was built for one thing according to the Entars here on Andra Dominus...

War.

Though Vivi was considered a powerful Fytar, he still hadn't performed the sacred ritual of loci. He found it to be pathetic, to be latched to anything. In time, he knew deep down he would be stuck with the mammoth structure before him. The circular architecture was massive in width and length. Vivi's flowing plume of flames for eyes shifted upward, trying to search for the top of the ruin, but he already knew part of it was in space. Still, down here, The Gyre was in shambles, desecrated by the festering nature around him. If he could smirk, he would, but instead, Vivi's shell of Novatrite skin lightly clinked. The pulsars surrounding him latching onto another shred of wet putrid Novatrite beneath the murky water.

He could feel the magnetic force inside him bend the metallic black ore into shape and before not too long, the armor malformed to his wispy body. Like static catching the air, Vivi sighed with a hissing crackle. He wanted to be somewhere else, but he couldn't abandon the work at hand. One less Novatar, meant more time before the Gyre came to life. Despite this, Vivi thought leaving and building a force of other Novatar in the stars would be better. Many were against it and while he understood their reluctance, the force told him else wise.

Vivi hovered, examining the next piece of the internal parts before him. The Kytars around him snatched the new piece into the air, rotating it and bending it to their liking. The creaking screech from the manipulated sterns and metal groaned as the new casing was slammed into the siding of the Gyre. The sound reminded Vivi of the Kytars constructs positioned around the large swamp for protection. They had infused their energy into the hulking masses of mounted Novatrite in the shape of a mortar. Vivi didn't even know if they worked, let alone if they were able to fire energy from them. All he knew, is the Kytars were exceptional builders and when metal groaned, it did for a reason. Vivi hoped with the construction of the Gyre that the reason was stability and comfort.

The weight of the whispers became more apparent, arrivals from unknown space slipping into the influence of his own Force Senses. The flowing flames beneath his armor flared and for a moment his purple aura flashed a bright red with excitement. It was brief and the tiny cracks for openings around his body seeped out purple leashes of fire, licking the air with a snap.

He rose higher into the air, closing his eyes. The obsidian Novatrite replacing them as he focused. Vivi concentrated on the disturbance, his pulsars teased with anticipation and the waves of energy that vibrated through him meant only one thing...

Unknown guests had finally arrived.

Rakvul | Tathra Khaeus ​

 

[Rakvul]

​

Unknown Regions, Beyond Civilized Space, Aboard the Scourge...

​

Deep in the vastness of space they were nothing. It was as if they ceased to exist, disappearing into the vastness of the ether. So sophisticated was the cloaking system aboard the Scourge that it was nearly impossible to detect its presence when active. The entire ship seemed to phase out of existence, its form shimmering before it disappeared. It was a one-of-a-kind in the Bryn'adul Armada. There was nothing like it. The beast that it birthed from had long surpassed its average lifespan, a legendary, ancient creature straight from the annals of history. It was a creature hardened beyond the realm of known possibility. But at first glance one couldn't tell that such a thing existed inside the endless layers of plate, and shielding. It was a true marvel, a combination of the bio-technical supremacy of the Draelvasier mixed with their incredible ability to adapt to any situation. It was a living horror of flesh and black iron; its new and oppressive form was an awe-inspiring sight over every world it descended upon. Its structure defied all known conventional designs and methods utilized by nearly every shipwright in the known galaxy.

It did not belong to them.

The sheer size of the Scourge's interior was enough to defied comprehension. Its colossal interior was so large it resembled the ancient tunnels of Xaeldrask, organic pathways resembled cave tunnels. In some parts one could see the bioorganic residue of contracting muscle, crisscrossed with pathways, doors of dark iron. It was a symbiotic relationship between the organic and the material together, that created a unique harmony within. To others it was a dazzling, darkened maze that left experts speechless. It was a realm unto itself as one crossed from one area to another. It was so large various lifts, bioorganic pathways opened through flesh. Paths seemed to open and close without much sense. It was as if something was directing some twisted play that allowed everything that walked, scurried, or flew unfettered access. To most it was a home of monsters.

But to the Draelvasier? It was just home.

Every facet of the ship was designed specifically, exclusively for the Draelvasier. All others would have to adapt to their home, their ways. This belonged exclusively to them. The Scourge was considered a small city unto itself it was so densely populated. Over one hundred and fifty thousand Draelvasier walked through the cavernous interior. There was a careful order to the chaos, a rigid discipline instilled into every species who walked its halls. Baedurin, Aeravalin, Sraelvun, Risen Sraelvun. They were accompanied by Ungulloi, Vaydralen, Akhenaton, and a host of other monstrosities lurking within its darkened interior. Even the light within the ship was designed to uniquely suit the eyes of the beasts who walked within. Even the monsters, the beasts understood their own place in the hierarchy. All along the ship from one end to the other were nests of Decapi Spiderlings, dormant until they were needed like white blood cells fighting off the infectious virus of other alien scum who dared to walk its halls without permission.

But high in the sky? Deep in the highest recesses of the cavernous ship was the huge, personal Draeyde Hive of the High Warlord. They enjoyed the darkness, drowning themselves within this paradise reined in by their master. It was at any point that a thousand-thousand eyes could peer out of the shadow, surveilling those who walked past. Few had the natural talent, the skill to command the obedience of an entire Draeyde Hive. But he had done so completely alone. Everything within the ship was in perfect sync, operating as a union against discord. Each individual had a job to do, to the betterment of all, previously it had been for the good of the Remnant that propelled them forward. But now everything changed when Rakvul the Darkener walked through the halls beside the God-Titan. When they started this journey, he began his long tour of the interior of the Scourge. Since the last time the Chieftain had walked its halls, the ship had changed significantly. It evolved, growing beyond its constraints into something entirely new.

The very first place he'd taken the Chieftain was one of the most safely guarded locations in the entire ship. It was considered a huge accomplishment to find one of the sacred Draelvasier Hatcheries. Such places were relics of the God-Titan, creations that saw the rebirth of their entire race. Deep within its halls there it was, birthing the next generation of Draelvasier to consume the stars. Ever since they had achieved optimal capacity, due to the Remnants mobile nature they had slowed in production. Everything was based off the needs of the armada now, Draelvasier were born, trained, and put to task across the various ships. It was a large hatchery but about half the size of those on Xaeldrask, at full capacity it could produce roughly three thousand Draelvasier per day. Every waking moment it was manned by dedicated attendants who watched over it, overseeing the process. Their leader reported directly to him, to avoid overcrowding he'd been forced to place more restrictions on production.

As they left the hatcheries they entered the beast pens. It was one of the largest areas of the ship where dozens of beasts were held. The Scourge wasn't a dedicated carrier, certainly not. But what these pens did hold were prime specimens from the beasts utilized in war. Each one was carefully attended to in pens on a vast deck. As long as they were preserved, they could be recreated. They were instrumental in giving his forces a vital edge that so many had lost. Each carefully preserved and watched over by Shamans who diligently carried out their tasks. Across every deck, every passage they walked, and the Darkener spoke, breaking everything down for the Chieftain. They passed through the armories where he continued about the different developments being made to improve their arsenal, deepen their methods of communication. All were presented to the God-Titan for his personal review from the newest Hive Shards to the Agragost Kukri.

Everything was ready. This day had been in the back of his mind for decades. It was what he prepared so tirelessly for, to show his liege what he'd done for their people, the progress he'd made for him. To help engineer the survival of their species so they could once more darken the skies, exacting vengeance on those who thought themselves safe from the monsters stalking the stars. The Kraemonen Network was immense running from end to end, intertwined with mind stone and technology to endlessly pour over the ship. Rakvul channeled the hive shard in his gauntlet as he walked. Passages of biomass like closed muscle pulled open, revealing metal blast doors that parted like diamonds in the middle to reveal the next passage. It was a warship designed for them, designed to confuse anyone else while giving its defenders the strategic edge in every situation. They'd gone to the Sanctum of the Zealots, Headquarters of the Order where they met with the Honor Guard Ultra.

"Discipline needed to be maintained. We needed to be ready at all times. As order was threatened when our empire fell and our numbers grew it became harder to reign our kin in, to enforce the tenets. To solve such problems, I tasked the Zealot Order to become the enforcers of the Kad'Maera, they ensured our people old and new did not stray from the path." Rakvul told the Chieftain as they walked.

But even as they walked these halls the ship was put to task on a great journey of its own. They'd recovered more of the mysterious metal, Novatrite. It was their guide to track its resonance through the stars. It was due in part to his work on the material that created one of the Scourge's unique shielding systems. "I have experience in working the material. We can track its magnetic resonance. I have engaged the Scourge's stealth system to ensure we remain undetected, undisturbed, Chieftain." The feeling of standing beside the God-Titan once more was beyond words. To bathe in his commanding presence aboard his ship while they traversed the stars was everything, he'd sought for all these years. Their journey had begun at the ruins of Kardun where the God-Titan had shown him the remnants of their home, shattered by civil war and disaster, the betrayal of Hadad. The sight of the gargantuan servitor's broken body was etched into his mind. Samples had been taken from the beast, many samples. The devastation wracked his mind with grief at the sight. Kardun was where it all began, where he took his first breath in the world.

Everything was so different back then in the ruined colony of the Precursors. They were new, ambitious and driven. It was by the guiding hand of the Chieftain that they learned what it meant to be Draelvasier, it was there that the very first colony was founded. Kardun always held a special place in his heart, and seeing it destroyed it was like his heart was being torn out of his chest. "Even after seeing it. It is still hard to believe that it is truly gone."

Tathra Khaeus | Vivi Irius ​

Spoiler

• "Dialogue"
• "Hive Shard Communication"
• "War Whistle Communication"
• "Beast Communication"
• "NPC Dialogue"
• "NPC Mind Dialogue"

​

 

[Tathra Khaeus]

The Scourge - En-route to an unknown planet

​

Stonesingers moved through halls of cavernous design, moving with certainty through the den of tunnels that made up the interior of the intersections of the Scourge. Ungulloi whelps followed at their heels, being led through the ship. To the Titan, the Scourge was almost overflowing with attending staff - more so than he had ever equipped his warships with. A minimalist from a different time when compared to what Rakvul had made of the Scourge. A ship he guessed was thrice its original size, upgraded and refitted perhaps dozens of times to survive the unwelcoming Galaxy beyond the walls of the ship. Its corridors of stone reminded the God of their home, of Xraeldrask. Of the tunnels often traveled by mining crews ready to ship out to Edemar and Caradim, their first colony worlds. A time when their species was more militant, and disciplined.

When the Bryn'adul Empire expanded, the Titan was forced to loosen his grip as the Tachael-Vamnak struggled to oversee an Empire spanning a sixth of the Galactic map. Tathra brought forth Warlords in place of Marauders, Draelvasier that were entrusted with the upkeep of his Kingdom. The tenets, the Kaerd-Ma - these things became less and less the centre of their world and were summarily replaced by a focus on their foes more than themselves, the hatred of the Sith and Jedi as the Bryn'adul burned a hole in the fabric of the Galaxy fighting all that was different to them. That hate consumed his Warlords, and their people grew weak and complacent. Perhaps that arrogance had been seeded long ago from the very first.

Or so the God-Titan thought, standing opposite Rakvul in the gallery above the Hatcheries. Tathra remembered watching that night on Kardun. Only a few weeks into the Civil War, Galak had sent Akhenaton warriors to his own hatcheries to destroy them. Eventually, the loyalist-held hatcheries were destroyed too. One of their own hated him so much that he destroyed the future of their species. That irked, made the Titan chafe. Tense mandibles and nails digging into palms. A stoic, unimpressed visage for Rakvul but turmoil beneath the incarnadine carapace. Tathra had spent the time since then perfecting the next genome sequence - stored in his mind. A few changes, namely to the Sraelvun. But there would be... symmetry.

He would not suffer another heretic forged by his own hand.

Rakvul escorted him about the Scourge, showing him personally what he had already learned as soon as the Master-Shard linked with the mind stones aboard the vessel. But it paid to see it with one's own eyes, the effort of the newly christened Wrath did not go unnoticed. Loyalty without reward, discipline without cause. The actions of the Darkener had left the Draelvasier in a position of strength on entrance to the Protectorate. Rakvul had made the order of Zealots, his ally. Ultra Kraug, a trusted agent of the Tachael, had been instrumental also in returning their forlorn kin to the tenets. To the Kad'Maera.

"You have made yourself integral, Rakvul. Well done." The Titan spoke bluntly. Rakvul had always been a loyal warrior, his proficiency in battle and industrial mind making him an easy choice to oversee colonies holding vast quantities of Barad smiths and Kadesh armourers. But he had never been a prodigy, never had he been Galak or Osam. The Darkener, a grim title made to sate this ambitious Drael. But now he shun, when supposed heroism failed traitors, grit and a welcome of adversity set Rakvul apart and now the Scourge was the proof of it.

A new flagship for the Bryn'adul, for the Draelvasier. Rakvul had shown his quality, and scourge was to his merit. Rakvul had already begun to learn what secrets the Novatrite held. Tathra too had ordered experiments on small samples, testing the magnetic properties of the metal. He did not know who or what was generating black holes, but they would no doubt find out wherever they were going. He only hoped the new shielding technology of the Scourge would allow them to avoid a black hole erupting in the middle of the vessel. He had already experienced that phenomenon once, and it took months to recover fully.

Long-range probes launched upon leaving behind the ruins of Kardun had been searching for traces of novatrite had located something... incalculable. Tathra knew its readings were in error, but it was their best option for the time being. Seeing the destruction of their second home alongside Rakvul had been challenging to process. It was the Wraths' only home. Now, it was gone.

Tathra was not surprised when Rakvul stopped the elevator halfway to the bridge to speak of it. The Titan clenched his mandibles, mulling. Rakvul spoke true, it was difficult to believe. But he had to.

"The crew of this vessel needed to see it. We have nothing at our backs now, there will be no safe haven until we make one for ourselves. The Scourge and the Draelvasier aboard must be ready, our allies in the Protectorate. Myka, Neti. They have potential, just as the Vaydralen. But we must project strength if we are to lead this Protectorate back to the Galaxy. To take what is ours. That is why we must find this technology, not them. It will be ours, and the Neti and Myka will fall in line whether they realise it or not." Tathra's baritone was stringent, confident.

His words spoken like fact. Their path was clear, and the Draelvasier seemed only a step away from domineering strength once more. The muscle of the wall retracted, shifting doors of dark iron from the path of the two towering Drael as they entered the bridge of the Scourge. A single Stonesinger turned, bowing to both Drael as they were led to a large marble table in the centre of the bridge, just behind the command platform and pulpit directly at the nose of the bridge where a Shaman stood, speaking to the Kraemonen.

"Sire, we have discovered something on the planet below." The stonesinger gestured to the marble as a maroon hologram rose from its black surface, red symbols glowing on either end of the table.

A large swath of broken swampland filled the hologram and in its centre, something implausible. The biggest contrast the Titan had ever seen. Something he instantly recognised as the whole of the destroyed fragment he landed on with the Neti Chieftain months before.

"That's it. Commander, prepare a Squadron of Gunboats for immediate deployment to the surface. Interceptors and Strikers at the ready." Tathra did not wait for the response of the Stonesinger, eyes lingering on the hologram for a moment before turning on his heel and leaving the bridge with Rakvul in toe.

Whatever that colossus was below, it would be theirs. The sheer structurel design alone amazed him, beyond anything the Draelvasier could build, beyond anything the rest of the Galaxies combined effort could accomplish. Truly alien, truly other.

It was meant to be his.

-

Sixteen Gunboats set out from the hangar of the Scourge, seemingly sprouting out from between its jagged silhouette as they followed the leading Gunboat, piloted by the Titan himself to the surface. Even from orbit, the construct was visible. Half their number would maintain a circling perimeter around the construct, watching every angle available to them whilst the others followed Tathra to the surface. The deployment bays extended onto the marshland. Rakvul and Tathra were flanked by Honour Guards as they made to the surface, Tathra leading the small group as the other Gunboats set down in a semi-circle pattern around them. The construct sat partially buried in the swamp, long roots from towering forestage had grown along its edges. Even then, its immensity was hard to quantify.

Tathra's mandibles sat agape as he stopped to ponder its awesome magnitude.

"I have seen many things, but this... I have no words for this."

He wasn't sure if he wanted its builders to be long dead or alive.

Vivi Irius | Rakvul

​

 

[Vivi Irius]

Vivi felt the swaying weight of their intrusion. From his mind's eye to the central universe, the deep pits of his magnetar hert began to alter the very fabric of space between him and the interlopers. Vivi could feel more than just the eviscerate rumble of their ships slipping into Andra Dominus's magnetic fields, he could feel what they were. The Draelvasier hidden within. A species that he had not known, but must have been synaptically passed down through his own kind. In truth, even without knowing their species, Vivi felt an insurmountable amount of dread wash over him. These things carried darkness. Vivi strained to keep tabs on their entry point, their movements smooth and precise as they made their descent towards the Novatarian planet. In a way, Vivi felt an itch of excitement. Although they felt dangerous, Vivi would determine that himself. Despite how he felt, he did question one thing.

"If there is darkness in your kind, is it deep inside you? Or are you merely carrying burdens that have latched to your people?"

Vivi asked it to himself aloud, eyes still tightly shut as he wanted to feel every inch that these Drael gained. Vivi's body twitched with more leashes of purple flames. The flickering aura of his purple presence hidden beneath the Novatrite protecting him. He lifted himself higher into the air, the sounds of the swamp below and the clanking of Kytar working became muted. Vivi imagined himself like water, slipping through each crack of the universe to trace the newcomers. Each path splintered rapidly as Vivi ushered the connection forward. He was close to turning feeling, into seeing. He curled a ball of flame tightly as a fist, the struggle to keep up with the metallic looking ship seemed too fast, until; the force granted him his wish.

Like a slingshot, Vivi's projection through the force sliced through a final opening. The dreadful aura of murderous intent tainted his pathways that brought him closer to the enemy. Each second emersed him deepr into the voids of unkown. Vivi's body lifted higher now, purple leashes wrapping around him like a small furious coffin of purple chains. He was stuck, stuck with one image. A symbol, engraved on the side of whatever futuristic warship the intruders descended with. Vivi refused to remain tightly fixated on it, so the flames of his body reacted, slashing outward to find something to engrave it on. Each second that passed the image began to fade and as it did, Vivi's pyrokinetic abilities allowed him to reach a tree subliminally. Like whips of destruction, each lash told struck the hard decaying tree like thunder. A symbol charred beneath the bark that was left over scorched the dying tree with each strike.

Suddenly, with each stroke of the precise snaps of his flames Vivi created the very thing he saw in his network of galactic pathways. The force ushered to him more now as his weightless form shifted upward once more. This was a gift, to all Novatar that were sensitive to the spacial pathways of the finite tunnels the force allowed. He strained even more as the last leash of his body stretched out for one last thundering flourish. The symbol carried bright plumes of cinders rising to the air, the after image; that of the exact symbol engraved on the warship heading for all the Novatar on Andra Dominus.

Vivi could feel the river of power shift against him. Clouding his senses before a bright beam of light interupted his connection compeltely. His eyes shot open, the gap of his Novatrite bent open, a clear translucent void letting out a static screech. Vivi screamed to all those who could hear around him. There were some Novatar less capable of reaching through such pathways the force allowed. Vivi was stern and as the Kytar around him stopped all work he let out a command.

"Intruders are upon us, they come bearing this sigil!" Vivi paused, his metallic armored arm reaching out and pointing as a tiny flame snuck through his Novatrite armor. What would have been considered a finger, directly showed the others the sigil of the enemy. "Are there those that understand the meaning behind this!?" Vivi questioned, a static crackle of annoyance behind the electrical waves he emitted. Vivi's pulsars twisted and shifted within, something deep inside him wanted these new galatic visitors to be his outlet. To be his freedom.

If Vivi had known what the Draelvasier truly were, he would have known that such things weren't granted by the Bryn'Adul. Still, he observed the sigil now engraved on the tree. It didn't mean anything to Vivi, he tried to scope the mental remeberance from a time before, but nothing came to. There were tiny glimpses, but nothing to the effect that would have given him anwsers. So, he looked upon the rest of his kind. If there were answers, the silence meant only one thing. Vivi would only be able to find out about the Draelvasier through interaction.

Vivi called out to his Fytars, ripples in the force carrying his voice so that way they could descend from the higher portion of the Gyre to assist him. Vivi settled himself, demanded some space and began to pull more Novatrite around his body. If the interlopers were here to kill them, Vivi would return in kind. So, he hovered over the swamp, observing everything around him. High and low, there was no sight of them, but the presence of these strangers became heavier and heavier by the second. Vivi lifted his head, seeking for their arrival. Before he gave up the search, a pounding alarm through the force struck him.

Ripped from reality, Vivi's body arched backwards. The internal pathways of the universe guiding him one last time. The shapes and sizes of the images racking his mind and soul began to take form. The force-river pulled him beneath an undertow and as Vivi surfaced, the face of the enemy presented itself to him. They were warriors, there was no doubt. Vivi inched closer and closer until the force no longer allowed. The whispers reached out like they had at the beginning. One name formed as one of the shadows on the gunboat spoke in a lanaguage unlike anything Vivi heard.

"Tathra.."

The name meant nothing.

Vivi snapped out of the interconnected labriynth in the force. His flaring eyes locked on to the first arrivals in hundreds of years. The steel and grey Gunboats harboring the inevitable. Vivi felt his own kind tense through the magnectic forces around him. It was only then that Vivi heard the resounding groans of metal and energy collide. A massive succession of loud infused mortars became active. Vivi turned to see what caused it. Before he could stop the first ring of decimation, thre first mortar let loose the hells of war, launching balls of energy at the incoming gunboats to protect the Gyre.

To Vivi's surprise, they worked. To his disappointment...howerver, it seemed making friends would be harder than Vivi thought.

Tathra Khaeus Rakvul

​