Vytal's green eyes shifted to the former Nightmother as they two came face to face at last.
"As someone that upon her return cannot face those she once led, and instead scurries in the shadows leaving her 'allies' to slaughter those she once protected, I find your accusations wanting,
Katrine Van-Derveld
. I hear the voices of countless spirits, and of many worlds. They speak to me of the many wonders of existence to satiate desires both subtle and gross. And yet, I do not claim them. Nor are they mine -- or yours -- to claim. They are our equals in existence, and there is much we can learn from one another." There was no doubt the two women had differing views on the world and the purpose of the Mandragora. This was far from shocking, nor was it rebuking to accept. Vytal
honored the religious or shamanistic number because they were members of her family as those that did not bond to the Three Great Spirits were her family. There was disagreements, but then there were always new ways to look upon the world or the knowledge with it. Disagreements were not a problem. Killing one another and destroying their history 'to make a point' was a very
real problem. And as for the spirits, Vytal spoke with them just as often as Katrine; the younger Witches were actually blessed to not be the hub of so many voices accumulated over the ages. Yet, the Many had need of such a person to hear and to speak for them, and so the Nightmother did.
"If the spirits sought to sever ties then, as you yourself proclaimed, they could have told us -- the Mandragora. We are not deaf to them. Even the dark and ravenous spirits have voices which we will hear; sometimes in peace, and others in battle. None of this," Vytal's arm swept out to encompass all those that stood there,
"was necessary. None of the chaos. None of the death. None of the destruction that yours brought here. You speak of things as though your actions hold no meaning. The spirits that speak to you, Katrine, if being so Ancient, should have found a better way. A wiser way to commune with us. If they were displeased then this should have been settled before a fire, before an altar, by dream, or by reaching out to me, the Nightmother of the Mandragora, a woman that has sought for women and men of all walks of life to do naught more than to learn, to hear, and to understand the majesty of our Living Realm. How has it come to this, Katrine? To stand here in the blood of the innocent and the ruin of time? Our door is open to every Witch that seeks knowledge whether our philosophies align or not. You should have trusted us." Instead, having not been given a chance, she rode upon a war steed. She descended from the heavens beside those that championed the threat of expelling the Confederacy on trumped up charges of enslavement. One that offered a 'party ship' in exchange for a planet as though the injury had not been enough, the insult had been necessary as well.
"Then leave," Vytal replied to Katrine's proclamation of no desire to fight.
"Because I will not allow you to break this Altar. I am the Nightmother of the Mandragora, and this is our home." The green ichor of began to twist and wind about the pale Witch's red gauntlets.
"The spirits and the people of this world do not prosper if we quarrel amongst ourselves, Katrine. Leave, and perhaps someday you will visit the Castle and be granted the same love and acceptance all Sisters and Brothers experience there." One and only warning for the Agents of Chaos, but it was hard not to extend it to her predecessor. Even if they did not agree, even if Vytal found her choices this day suspect, there was room for her one more time.
Madalena Antares
then cried out news about 'HOPE' and a bombing. What exactly she meant or where exactly this occurred, she had no foreknowledge. As an Obsidian Lord there had been no talk of an
attack on anyone. In fact, the Confederacy's top priority had been preparing
against an attack -- the one the Agents of Chaos were perpetrating that very moment across the face of Ryloth.
"Names." The Nightmother looked straight at the former Commander of the Knights
. "Enough vague assertions and half-truths. Who attacked you? Because it was not us." Vytal knew these people would
love if the Confederacy validated them even if it was in response to their first strike. However, she was not so easily convinced
they had attacked as proclaimed. How many times had it been now that their opponents
claimed the Confederacy had committed crimes only to be shown they were not only wrong, but out right lying? A small matter of
fact that the Agents of Chaos were at that very moment -- and several times hence -- in the process of doing... Deliberately and knowingly splicing together and editing footage to paint the
picture they wanted with not one ounce of regard for 'truth.' So, spirits forgive a Nightmother for not taking everything at face value.
What was more, these Agents of Chaos, Vytal wondered if they had even
bothered to seek confirmation by Confederate Command. Yes, the very Command they had nearly sent a ship down out of orbit with a payload intent on butchering. Were they afraid of being ignored? Afraid of an offer for help to stop any perceived bloodshed or to acquire allies in this purportedly tragic time? Or were they simply going to lash out because it fit the
narrative?
The Nightmother would not need to ask as Madalena lashed out with the power she'd gathered. Rather than flee the field, however, the pale Witch crossed closer to center where the Lord Commander, Voph, stood. Her green eyes flared brighter as her fingers slid along her waist to trigger a molecular shield of her armor's
Kavacha shield. With a flick of her left wrist she snapped the energy absorbing field between Madalena and the Altar. Her right concentrated the ichor conjured from Beyond before she shoved it forth into the path of the energy wave.
Some Witches were content solely to study the Art of Magick and the Will or Spirits. As a Nightsister such things were second nature -- first nature to boast, but she was still a flesh and blood creature. Vytal in particular, however, desired to learn of technology. Many on Dathomir were content to spurn it, but as a young woman she'd seen the threat it posed. Even those lacking in spiritual power could be dangerous. While her armor was steeped in the traditions of her Craft, it was not bereft of all boons of the galaxy. Technology and magick, working together, was perhaps the height of what a Witch could achieve -- what anyone seeking 'power' should hope to obtain. Fortunately, the Nightmother had no delusions of galactic conquest; it was antithetical to spending time learning of the world.
Meanwhile the three Great Spirits faded into smoke and flew out along the periphery of the Altar and among the rocks. Jart appeared atop
Hanna
's head only to crane its neck down to look at the woman. Doashim reappeared ahead of where Vytal and Voph had stood to charge at
Madalena Antares
. The rumble of
Shamira Karuto
's Risen would be felt in tandem with any foot fall Doashim seemed to take, which served their purpose. Hearty necrobotanical beasts were ascending toward the peak eager to make the acquaintance of those near the Altar. While Lylek surfaced to swipe her serpentine body at
Judd Hunter
. Their appearance and the sound of their presence in the world seemed so real to the senses, but they were not there as soldiers and were apparitions. Their greatest weapon was in the mind of those that saw them, not in brute force.
Meanwhile, at Vureshakkairn Castle...
You have got to be kidding me, was the thought that slipped through Firestorm Five Heavy's Lieutenant's mind. A Corvette somehow entered orbit after being told clearly by orbiting ships
no unauthorized vessels are to approach Ryloth -- because
Basic was such a hard language -- and was now on course for the Castle.
"Hey, Kicks, spin up that broadcast telling these Laserbrains to go kark themselves, because if we meet up there they're getting their asses kicked. But, you know," the Lieutenant said as the
Miraj-class Dropship began to dust off with a roar echoing amongst the trees,
"politely." (
K
Kaine Australis
)
"C-CDF this is Firestorm Five Heavy," opened a channel to the Defense Forces in and around the Castle as their ship began to sweep around the surround before punching into the skies.
"There's an unauthorized inbound Corvette and a lot of trash they can't be bothered to take with them. Requesting air support to make it clear to these chuckle heads they're not welcome." Hey, at least he didn't call them Sculaging Shavits. That would have been on the official transcripts... that no one ever read.
"Firestorm Five Heavy, fighters hitting the skies now. Be advised the Castle's shield will be operational on your return. C-CDF out." By that command meant it was operational now as the dropship slipped up above the Castle to take stationary position. The dropship would not too far from the Castle, and its new friend would enjoy a nice, long, 'leisurely' descent in their field of fire.
At that point the Sister or Brother on duty with Castle Confederate Defense Force command would likely be checking in with others to figure out why they had not picked up on the threat themselves. No one liked unwelcome surprises. Especially when your planet was under siege, and a war had been sparked in orbit.
Unlike all the gentle hand holding and well-wishing the Confederate Defense Force had before, whoever or whatever was in that pile of junk headed for the Castle was about to get a hell of a wake up call. Firestorm Five Heavy wasn't here to make friends. First terrorists, now an actual shooting war in orbit. Whoever or whatever thought they were getting through here had made a
grave mistake. Every turret, cannon, and tube facing the Akaan'bral locked on and fired. Some were consecutive, others sequential -- after all, there was no point shooting your own karking proton torpedoes. Not to mention torpedoes weren't as fast as near-light bolts.
A squadron of
RMS-SC01 Starbird-class Space Superiority Starfighters streamed out of the Hanger set apart from the Castle itself the second the order came in. While the Confederacy couldn't know where or when the enemy would strike, they had places where they could stock pile people, equipment, and vehicles. Since the Castle housed Defense Force personnel and patrol craft already, it had been an ideal staging area. With the attack within and upon the Capital being well under way everyone was primed -- even on edge -- waiting for the 'go' order.
In short order, the squadron of Starfighters swept around and begun closing in on their target. The dropship's
MXC-R13 Saja-class Sensor Array easily plucked the wheat from the chaff, and conveyed it to the starfighters using the
MXC-T18 Tyr Tactical Command Network. The fighters focused on the target with a full barrage. If friendlies closed on the target, the enemy came too close for ordinance, or somehow the vessel did more than fall out of the sky the ships would focus on cannon fire.
Nerium
| Herah |
The Bridesmaid
|
Zaldros Sabolte
Darth Metus
| Darth Miseria | Mandragora
Muad Dib
