Theocracy of the Unwilling

Chapter 3, Part II

"Stubborn as hell," Ronovi grumbled. "All of them."

She left a foggy handprint lingering on the decorative glass of the window, watching as hired grunts carted away the last of squealing protesters from the County's grounds. It was a beautiful day in Messina...too nice; nice enough to let the sun shine upon the faces of angry Yridians screaming for blood. Ronovi quietly took the glass that the butler offered and sipped from it, directing her attention at the Tarentae sitting across the room.

Anshar said nothing at first, instead drumming his fingers on the arms of his chair as he surveyed the gardens around them. Being Marquis of Messina, he took great care in seeing everything grow and flourish. He had not hesitated in returning to his land after leaving the office of the Master at Arms, and now he, a former Prince of Yridia himself, smiled matter-of-factly at the Consul standing before him.

"I figured you'd understand the consequences of attempting to develop here," he said before slowly rising to his feet. "Yridia IV's been a backwater planet of colnies for years now. With Yridia II and Yridia IX, it was simple. Here, they've grown a certain complex."

"You mean a backwards complex," Ronovi stiffly replied.

Chuckling, Anshar stepped laboriously over to the window, peering out of it and watching the guards return from tossing the rabble-rousers outside the gate. He took great effort in walking these days, as the connection of his spirit to his body was fragile and now incurable. The death of one of the Keepers, Talitha, had left him in this state, and while the story of how he had gotten such a condition was a long one, it was safe to say it was unnatural, and dangerous. He could not fight like he used to. He could not act to his full physical potential, let alone his Force potential, any longer.

"You know, this isn't the first protest we've had to put down in the past few months," Anshar informed Ronovi, as the two stared out over the view of foliage and majestic mountainside where the Marquis's estate had been built. "Not too often that people will just climb the mountains in an attempt to seize my property. But it's been happening: scraggly men with blaster rifles, even young boys shouting for my death. Course, I've dealt with them all accordingly. Sometimes I only have to lift a finger and my security takes them out."

"How often has it happened?" asked Ronovi. "The attempted revolts, I mean."

"Often enough to be concerned about it."

Anshar moved away from the window then, turning to a table and pouring himself a glass of crystal clear water. He drank it slowly, intensely, before refilling the glass to the brim.

"Death to the Tarenti, they say. Have you heard it?" he muttered. "I don't know about you, but I'm not interested in wasting firepower on another Yridian revolt. However, they may simply go with the disruption tactic. They'll try to stop everything you attempt to advance. Be alert. Be vigilant. You're Consul now, and a Tarentae...you'll need eyes in every part of your head. Not just the back of it."

Ronovi smirked at the alteration at such a cliche, sipping her whiskey before averting her eyes. Anshar could only say so much, could only give so much advice without it starting to echo in her mind. It was good, however, to get a report on Messina. And if men were climbing peaks to rebel against their superiors, then they may be willing to go through more hazardous trials.

As she had said, stubborn, all of them. Foolish, too. She placed her hand on the glass again as a light drizzle began to descend upon the mountains and threatened to cover the place in cold, harsh frost.

***

It had felt like only minutes had passed since Dralin had been burning the skin and hair off a man's groin, and technically, it had been twelve or so hours. The morning had turned to early evening when he had suddenly been called to Castle Tarentum, and he entered the hangar bay of the castle with a slow stride. Usually he was not fatigued, though he didn't sleep much and sometimes using the Force to keep himself awake put him in a more aloof mood than he was normally accustomed to. Dralin disappeared into one of the castle's turbolifts and stared out its portal as it carried him up above the ocean waves, until he was observing the transparasteel windows that overlooked the Yridia II horizon.

Ji was sitting at the Consul's desk when Dralin entered the office, and the young Coruscanti looked around curiously, noticing the large Dashade in the corner. Frosty Romanae Tarentae blinked once as if greeting him, before Ji spoke a few words.

"Good to see you, Fortea," she whispered, before signing most of her conversation. Luckily, Dralin had learned more than a bit of the sign language by now, becoming used to the Ubese's minimal speaking. "Frosty and I have been waiting for you. We've been looking for a new Rollmaster since Raiju left the position."

"Very kind of you, K'awiil," Dralin remarked dryly, before looking toward the viewing portal. "Where's Ronovi?"

"The Consul is currently on Yridia IV, taking care of development issues," Ji signed. "Therefore, she has left me in her stead. However, she is in complete agreement with appointing you to this new position. You will be expected to carry out the usual reporting and archiving expected of both Rollmasters. However, I called you both here for a reason."

"From what the Proconsul's told me, it sounds like there's been some trouble with an old enemy of ours," Frosty enunciated through his crowded clusters of teeth. "Been causing some havoc around Yridia IX and even Reinthaler's base. Goes by the name Nilani. You familiar with her?"

Dralin shook his head. "I'm guessing this has to do with necromancy. I barely got into the practice of it."

"Lady Nilani," Ji signed, leaning back in her chair, "is a former agent of the Keepers, who as you were made aware were killed months before the last Rite of Supremacy. She had been working with the Keepers in their long drawn out manipulation of the clan and ended up helping a Dark Jedi spirit called Adamu with his quest for revenge against us. Adamu's been eliminated, but Nilani escaped from our grasp and hasn't been spotted since. But now we know she's been attempting to disturb the Yridian populace, thanks to the information you garnered from that assassin."

"I don't quite understand," remarked Dralin, slightly amused. "This is just one woman we're talking about. What possible influence could she have on the system now that the Keepers are dead?"

"Don't underestimate the Ghost Lady, Fortea," Ji warned, her hands dancing in their lingual choreography. "She is quite persuasive, and since some of the politicians on Yridia IV are doubting the success of our projects, she can prove to be a strong force against us. Not to mention she is a powerful warrior in her own right."

"I'd crush her if I had the chance," Frosty growled, smirking, and Dralin shrugged. The Dashade was powerful and could take on some of the strongest of opponents, but even then Ji's body language was showing an aura of disagreement.

"Nilani is stronger than you think. She killed Lord Khyven, one of the most brutal warriors under Zero's tutelage," the Proconsul signed. 'Not to mention she put a blade through my back on Yridia IV. I still have the scar from it. My point is, Nilani is not to be overlooked. What we must focus on is tracking her down and finally doing away with her. And that's going to take utmost concentration from our units."

Dralin furrowed his brow and made his way to the wall, leaning against it with his arms folded across his chest. Frosty shuffled over to Ji's desk and his eyes flickered to and fro, surveying the two before Ji finally broke the silence.

"I have no further need of your presence," she signed. "You may both go now. But realize you have a mission to attend to. Every member of the clan must be informed of the threat. The Consul will return to the castle soon and further clarify the situation with house leaders, but for now, you do what is expected of you. Observe, report, analyze. That is your job."

As both Rollmasters moved to exit the room, Dralin could feel a certain sharp sensation in his abdomen, like a sudden rush of blood moving to his head. The idea of a target, and an assignment, spurred him on, as his fingers brushed the saber hilt at his side before he heard Ji's whisper behind him.

"Do not fail me, Fortea," she hissed, as Frosty's silhouette passed Dralin and he solemnly followed the Dashade into the light of the corridor.

Welcome to part II of the Rollmaster: Fiction Report/Clan Fiction Update! Today's update was brought to you by your Consul, Ronovi, and the letter T.

More ideas in the works, but you'll just have to wait it out while we plan. It's kind of our thing.

So, I kind of lied about the whole "including more information" thing. I do that sometimes. Until next time, stay classy, Tarentum.

KP Dralin Fortea (Krath)/RM-M:HRLD/Kaerner of Tarentum