NationStates Jolt Archive

(Yeesh...yay for half remembered latin from ages ago. Only nations that should be posting here are:
Revenia
Liebermonk
The Atheist Reality
Impworld (Because Revenians are far too sane to make good "Screw with your mind" hostage holders.)
Otherwise you need to ask me first, mmmmmkay? Good.)



Mission Number Eight-Seven-Nine-Three-Four-Six
Locale: Liebermonk, Earth, Sol.
Operatives:

Colonel Jerrin Crane (Shade Seven-Four), Team Lead.
Major Severian Stark (Hawk Four-One)
Lieutenant Aiden Cinder (Cinder Five-Six)
Sergeant Thomas Stark (Spectre Three-Four)
Specialist Chella Stark (Huntress Eight-Five)

The Directorate Slice Craft was a wickedly effective little ship, built for a single purpose. Inserting a team of operative covertly into enemy territory from orbit. It handled only the first step of that process, but it handled it –incredibly- well.

The stories one could tell…anyways.

Right now, one of those wickedly effective little ships was doing its job, ducking into the atmosphere for a few instants, looking for all the world like a rogue meteor…and spitting out five operatives to float the way down on their combat gliders, before streaking straight out, then going full-stealth and looping back home.

Now, the five individuals currently making their descent were, to a man (or woman,) RASP operatives. They wore shadowsilk bodysuits that covered the entire body save for the eyes, which were covered by snooper goggles. The gliders they used were also made of shadowsilk…and for a reason.

Shadowsilk was completely proof to every sensor system ever encountered by Revenians, and before the Revenians, every sensor system ever encountered by the Ascended Supremacy. The only way to detect an individual wearing shadowsilk was via the Mark One eyeball. Cameras worked also…generally.

At any rate, the moonless, overcast night chosen for this op meant that the operatives could take an unusual amount of risk without compromising the mission, and so they would land closer to the objective than they were used to.

As feet silently hit ground, the gliders would retract into small backpack-sized units. No evidence. Ever.

The small team would set into the ground devouring lope of the Revenian on a one-gee planet…and reach their target quicker than one would believe possible.

Down onto one knee they would drop, sighting along their thumb, then squeezing the other four fingers inwards explosively. A gentle hiss would be the only sign that an unpowered bonding grapnel had just been fired up and onto the lip of the roof of the targeted complex.

The situation was exactly as expected, and the team would go about their business. Cinder finding the exact point at which he would emplace his package, one of a short handle of EMP “shaped charges” that the team carried. This one was rather large, though, designed to knock out all electronics within the building. For the duration.

Cinder darted away from the package, then crouched at the proper point and brought his carbine up, scanning for invisible targets until Shade called ready.

Shade had cut a beeline for the roof-access elevator and done a general scan for any cameras about. Those would be dealt with through the simple expedient of a charged dart from the launcher running his forearm. That dealt with, he would dart up the elevator doors and slap a breaching charge in place, then back pedal rapidly to clear the back-blast.

“Mark Two.”

The whispered signal set the team into motion, forming up about the elevator, Huntress in position to make entry…and she would nod.

Shade nodded, and the EMP charge would detonate simultaneously with the breaching charge, pointed straight downwards so that the entire building was within its cone of effect. Instant localized “power failure.” ‘cept it was a power failure of a more permanent sort.

The breaching charge detonated with a poof and a rather…large…hole was burned through the elevator doors. The elevator was not at this level, which sped things up a bit. Huntress pulled the unpowered adhesive grapnel unit from her belt, this one was quite a bit more robust than the personal units mounted in the suits forearms, and affixed it to shaft roof.

RASP Operators all spoke Ascended Battle Language – fluently, but on an Op they resorted to sign language. It wasn’t the low-profile Gunslinger sign language, but rather was derived from the Battle Signs used by the Supremacy Special Strike Force. Either way it was effective, and the team was in motion.

Huntress was first down; her implants gave her abilities that the other operators didn’t have. Of course, she couldn’t go full active, but the shadowsilk jumpsuit she wore blocked all emissions…

Soft-soled boots pressed up against the shaft walls stopped her descent. She slipped the grapnel anchor unit onto the belt clip and hung, orienting herself to face the elevator door and holding her carbine one-handed…

Meanwhile, Shade had started down the line towards her. He used a secondary anchor unit that fed off the primary line, giving him a full two feet of excess play to either side of the primary. Thusly he was able to plant both feet on either side of the shaft, place his knife in his mouth, and slip a breaching charge free from his belt. He activated the charge, rolling the dial to the proper time, and then pressed it up against the elevator door.

He set his anchor unit to break-away and coiled his leg muscles to spring…and the charge would detonate, and he would explosively uncoil his legs, shooting him forward. The anchor unit stayed behind, allowing him to shoot out into the hallway, turning as he did so, pistol tracking in one hand, the dart shooter that had sprang out from its wrist sheath in the other, tracking simultaneously…

To find two targets, both guards. He squeezed off two rounds from each pistol, four quick puffs and the darts would impact, delivering their primary payloads of fast-acting tranquilizer, then longer onset, decidedly longer duration, paralytic.

The guards would be out a couple centiseconds after the tranquilizer was introduced to their systems…and they would stay that way for at least another two hours. After that, the paralytic would stay in effect for twenty four hours on top of that…plenty of time.

“Mark Three.”

The team came through in rapid succession in the order of: Hawk, Spectre, Cinder, Huntress. They would then form up, and Shade would lead them off towards the doors to the apartment…

Spectre flattened himself on one side of the door, pistol and knife at the ready. Huntress kneeled at one angle, her carbine at the shoulder, while Hawk took the other angle. Cinder had overwatch, that is, he kept an eye out for anyone approaching from “behind” the team.

Shade took a breath, then holstered both his pistols and removed his carbine from its sling. Control was, at the moment, less important than rate of fire…and a pistol couldn’t mount an underbarrel ballistic launcher.

That door had three BL-7-S underbarrels pointed at it, and at Shade’s signal…all three would thump. The fourty millimeter projectiles were dual-stage, designed to punch through a barrier, then eject their payload into the tender gooshy innards. They worked as designed, and each projectile spat out a pair of RASP stun grenades set to wide-angle blast and dispersion.

The grenades would fly until they detected something human, then they would detonate in a spray of short-lived stun-needles, each with the single purpose of delivering their payload into a living body…then vanishing.

Six grenades would careen about the interior of the suite, each seeking a separate target, aided by their short-lived but effective grav-prop units. They weren’t stealthy, per se, but when one got to the stage of an op where they would be used…it shouldn’t matter.

The effect of three fourty millimeter slugs blasting through the door did nasty things to it. Shade darting up and kicking it straight in the center of what remained of its mass should do it in, nicely. He would be the first in, scanning with his carbine, then immediately behind him would come Hawk, then huntress, then Spectre, and finally Cinder.

Presuming that no targets presented themselves immediately, Cinder would take up overwatch position while Hawk and Spectre hit one room – the room which intel had identified as being least likely to contain the targets, while Huntress and Shade would hit the room identified as being almost certain to contain the targets.

(But first, we’ll let the targets…and what few remaining guards there could be…respond.)

Queen Lerathen jolted awake with the sounds of gunshots at the suite door. Thoughts began bursting into her mind on what to do. She had been trained before on how to keep herself alive in the event of an attack. After the attempted assasination of the previous ruler, President Doyle, she made sure she would be prepared for that situation. Unfortunately, she found herself with no real idea on what to do. She did know she wanted to do one thing: protect her daughter Eldena. In the room next door Eldena was sleeping, but most likely she was awake and scared now. Lerathen didn't like the thought of her daughter being afraid. Her motherly insticts kicked in.
Quickly she grabbed her phone and sprinted to the door, opening slightly. Peering outside, she caught a glimpse of some propelled objects taking out her guards. One by one her defenenders fell. That would not be good. She needed a way to save Eldena, but the loss of her security guards meant that she would have little options. She could possibly sprint out of the room with Eldena to the stairwell in the hallway, but if this was an assasination attempt, it would be suicide.
First, she needed to reach Eldena. Peeking through the door again, she saw one of the propelled attackers on the other side of the living room. Perhaps, she though, she would be able to run down the hallway before being attacked. She decided Eldena was worth the risk.
Opening the door, Lerathen ran down the hallway, holding up her blue nightgown as she went. The few feet seemed like they took forever. Every second became a planned event for her. She finally reached the door. She turned the handle.
It wouldn't turn. Eldena had locked the door. Shoving all her weight into the door, she forced it open. Unluckily, she also broke the door free of its lock. That was going to be a problem.
Inside the room, Eldena was not in her bed. A second of suprised by Lerathen was overcome with worry. She ran to the side of the bed and peered under to see Eldena crying softly.
"It's okay honey, everything will be okay. I want you to go hide in your closet for now. I love you and don't worry."
Eldena hugged her mother tightly, then ran to the closet. Lerathen was now left in the room with little time to think. She began pushing the bed to the door. Only a twin size, it was light and easy to move. It finally rested up against the door.
Lerathen ran to the window as shots rang outside in the living room. She opened the large glass frame, letting it get pushed by the wind. She hoped that her attackers would somehow get tricked into thinking she left with Eldena along the windowsill to another room. She then ran to the closet and quietly slipped her way into the walk-in closet.
"Mommy's back. Everything is going to be okay. Let's just hide in here. Like a game, okay?"
Eldena slightly nodded her head.
Lerathen climbed to the back, pulling Eldena with her. She pushed the clothes aside and sat behind them with Eldena at her side. The Queen then pushed the clothes back to how they were. The thick mess that Lerathen was always telling Eldena to clean was what they both now relied upon to keep them hidden from the attackers. If they were lucky, these invaders would not look closely behind the clothes, and just figure the closet was empty.
Shot after shot from automatic weapon was heard in the suite. The many walls and clothes of the closet dampened out most sound. Queen Lerathen, sitting in fear, could hear each and every heartbeat she had coupled with the soft crying of Eldena next to her. Eldena was terrified; they were both terrified.

"Mark Four."

Shade set his shoulder and darted forward, bring his shoulder to bear on the door...which unexpectedly gave way without issue. He tumbled through, but managed to deftly turn what could have been a disasterous fall into a roll, coming up with his carbine at the ready.

Huntress was in moments after him and noted the open window. She darted over to it and peered outside, then shook her head. Shade nodded, then looked about...and saw the door to the closet. Hmmm.

"Mark Five."

The signal for all clear. Twelve guards had been disabled, six by stun grenades, six by dart-shot.

Shade nodded and stepped over to the closet, slinging his carbine. He pressed the palm of his left hand up against the closet door...and nodded.

His right hand went to his pistol, freeing it from its holster. His left went to the closet door...

He pulled the closet door open, his pistol leading the entry, tracking, tracking...

Snooper Goggles active. Body heat. Two life-forms, far back.

"Shade takes Queen."

Queen Lerathen stifled her breathing and placed a hand over Eldena's mouth.
She had sensed someone in the closet with her. The door had been opened. She knew it. Despite the stealthiness of her invaders, she could feel their presense.
She feared that in the next few moments, it would all end. Lerathen figured that if she were to die, she would not want to die a coward.
"YAAAAAA!"
Lerathen leaped out of the clothes. Her hands were extended in the air. Her face was filled with rage. She was not afraid of death for she only thought of Eldena's life. Eldena had to be protected for the future of the nation.
Lerathen, without thought for herself, grabbed at the man's neck.
If she could somehow strangle him, or at least distract him, Eldena could escape. She had to try. She had to do something.

Normally, Shade would have either fired, or reacted with his usual expediency. Shade was a creature that lived, thrived on the edge, where the only difference between coming home alive and coming home dead was your reaction time.

However, he had prepared himself for something like this, and as such, his action was not a reflex, though it was scarcely slower than a killing move.

He dropped his gun and reached out, grabbing Lerathen's arm as she charged towards him, turned side on, and instead of using her momentum to aid him in a throw, he swung his free hand out, grabbed hold of her side, and took her down.

He ended the maneuver with one of his legs in supporting his body, the other out as a counterbalance, and lerathen pinned to the floor. Huntress was already moving, having let her carbine drop down onto its sling and blurring past Shade and Lerathen with a speed that was at odds with her slim, small body.

Until one remembered that she had full Devilrunner augmentations.

She would subdue Eldena rapidly and effectively, using a move that she had learned not from any soldier, but from Cassandra Stark. The motherly Cassie Stark had been her surrogate mother, and one could not help but be surprised when one saw the short, portly Lady Cassandra move to end any conflict between any of her charges as House Stark's professional nanny.

Cassie looked nothing like her half-brother Dysaryn, short and plump where he was tall and muscular, yet in the realm of subduing unruly children and/or frightened children...there was none better. The fact that she would have been a nasty surprise for any kidnapper foolish enough to make an attempt on the sons and daughters of House Stark was merely gravy.

With Eldena hugged tightly to her chest, Huntress waited until Shade had expertly bound Lerathen's wrists and feet and gagged her before she emerged to allow him to help her bind and gag Eldena.

Truth, they binders they used on the child were loose and a few precious seconds were spent to make sure the gag was as comfortable as possible...and then...

"Game Over. Mark Six."

The team formed up and entered the elevator shaft, Shade with Lerathen and Huntress with Eldena, both captives secured by lengths of line running from the ankle and wrist binders to their captors belts. Spectre would head up first, then Shade, then Hawk, then Huntress, then Cinder.

Shade and Huntress took a few moments preparing, then nodded. Their evac equipment was sufficient to handle the weight of their captives. Thus it was that the five operatives took a running jump from the roof of the building...dropping only a few feet before their glider packs deployed.

The two captives were carried up against their captors chests with both arms, and the five-glider unit swooped off...and at the proper point, the small grav-slope units mounted in each glider engaged, and the team floated upwards to meet the returning slice-craft at the proper point.

Mission Successful.

"MMM! M MM MM NMNMNM!!!"
Lerathen tried her hardest to protest and scream as she was bound and gagged. But unfortunately for her, she was bound and gagged and no words would come out. All she and Eldena could do was hang on as they were flown away from home, away from Liebermonkians, and away from any chance of saftey. They did now know where they were going or why they were taken, but it was sure that they would not be going home for some time.
Lerathen stretched her hand down to feel her side pocket. Inside resided the cellular phone she had grabbed back at the suite. This could come back to save her. It was odd for her to be loving the one thing that she had hated for so many years.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
The next morning, a computer engineer worked furiusly.
"I don't understand what happend... everything is dead, I can't fix a darn thing. It all just fried during the night. It would take an EMP blast to do this, and the only thing I know of that can do that is a haywire transformer."
"Well, is there anything you could do? We need to go to the elavator to take the Queen her breakfast. Her duaghter will fet fussy. We don't want her to get fussy." The building's manager was growing restless.
"I'm working as fast as I can, you'll just have to take it up the stairs."
"Take a food cart, up stairs!"
"Yes, take a food cart upstairs. I told you, I am going as fast as I can."
"Fine. I want this fixed as fast a possible though."
The manager walked out of the control center of the tower. While grubmling to himself about the lack of power to the entire building, the manager paced his way to the kitchen to inform the staff that they will have to take the stairs.
~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~
CRASH!
James, the personal assistant to Lerathen and the Queen, dropped the three plates he had balanced the entire way up the stairs. On the floor on the other side of the hallway were two guards, knocked out by some unseen thing. After the shock subsided, Paulo ran to suite door, but there was no door remaining. Inside, the other ten guards were knocked out.
Cautioiusly he paced his way throughout the suite, finding signs of a scattered awakening and a bigger-than-usual mess in Eldena's closet. Both the Queen and her duaghter were gone.

"We interrupt this regularly scheduled broadcast with breaking news. During the night, Queen Lerathen Alarin and Princess Eldena Alarin of Liebermonk were found to be missing during the night. Not much is known of their dissappearance, but a kidnapping is believed to be the cause. All the guards were found to be unconsious in the morning. Anti-elf terrorist groups are not believed to be at fault, but the federal agents will continue to look at all possibilities.
In the mean time, the cabinet shall take full control of Liebermonk. According to the Liebermonkian constitution, the government shall continue to run until all has been solved.
We will report more to you as more is revealed.

"LNS, your fastest news service in Liebermonk

"And now back to your regularly scheduled broadast."

OOC: *pokes Revenia in the eye* ahem, we have a thread to do! I'll need my queen back before I can move on to another RP....

IC:

Five Helicopters sped across the night sky. Two were filled with diplomats. The other three contained the best of the best of the Liebermonkian Army, Air Force, and Marines. All five were flying to an aircraft carrier in an undisclosed location. From there they would board the LSF X903, a secretive space plane that flies inside and outside our atmosphere. At that point, they would go full speed to The Athiests Reality to meet up with Movodor Alarin, king of that nation, husband of Lerathen, and father of Eldena. Unsure of what would happen there, the men in the helicoptors did know that the first step to finding their Queen and Princess was to organize and learn all they could from what they had.

The slice-craft would finally arrive at its destination, having travelled the full distance from Earth under full-stealth. The Directorate pilot would expertly bring the fragile little ship into the cruiser's docking bay...and the team would finally relax.

The Telarius Kindran was a Directorate Maloy class Stealth Cruiser, one of only a handful in existence. The Directorate was powerful, but it could hardly afford to staff its own navy...

Anyways, the Telarius would begin moving the instant the slice-craft was touched down, heading under full cloaking ecm towards the N/S warp-point guarded by Sol Station...

The Directorate liaison passed the Telarius through, and the cruiser would hit the warp-point...

Inside the boat bay, other things had been happening.

Moments after docking, the slice-craft's small ramp would lower and the team would disembark with their two...captives. The captives were handed over to the handling team present to receive them, and the RASP operators would head off to debrief and work off the stress...it'd be a while before they were human again.
---

Captain Mark Vickers was a handsome, friendly man who was rather good at his job. He was a Handler, a part of the "active" half of the Directorate's Subject Handling division. The other half were paper pushers and bureacrats and quite vital to the operation of everything...but they didn't -do- anything.

Vickers' team had accepted the two captives and moved them quickly to the ship's Brig. It was quite a bit larger than the usual Revenian brig, which tended towards being a room with a secure lock on it...because it wasn't designed to be a place to let crew-members cool their heels.

The Brig was a fully-outfitted Handling area, and every Directorate cruiser had one like it. Telarius's Brig was the personal domain of one Mark Vickers...

Anyways, Vickers took personal overwatch as three Handlers processed the two subjects.

The pair were manhandled into the first "room" of Processing, where they were quickly stripped of both restraints and clothing, both clothing and restraints were then tossed into a plastic bin. The two larger Handlers controlled the subjects, while their compatriots darted in with Handling's specialized restraints.

The restraint-set consisted of a collar, a pair of bracelets, and a pair of anklets. Seemingly innocent looking, the devices had a number of functions...one of which was demonstrated now.

Both the bracelets and the anklets contained a compact gravitic generator. Mark, as overwatch, had the job of controlling the restraint sets...and his implants made that rather simple.

If he didn't know their assigned numbers off-hand, his implants would match their faces to their files and supply the number as needed. That process was decidedly quick as every Handler had the files of the subjects under his jurisdiction loaded into his implant memory.

Mark had the numbers in his biological memory and as such he didn't need to call them up. It took no time at all, then, to issue the necessary command...and the grav units would engage.

Lerathen and Eldena would find themselves hovering exactly two inches off the ground, their legs spread about shoulder length and their arms above their heads and spread about the same distance.

A handler would step forward and pass over the pair with a fine-detail sensor wand, make any adjustments as necessary, then nod and pass the pair on to the next room.

There, they were enveloped in a gas that seemed to be every color at once and seemed to both cleanse and refresh at once, like the best shower one had ever taken.

That done, they would be moved on to the next room where they would be placed down on a pair of tables. Surgeon-Commander Andrew Hendrikson was an expert at his trade and it took him only fifteen minutes per to fit both Lerathen and Eldena with the Subject implants.

Hendrikson was also a vitakinetic, and as such they were passed off with not even a scar as evidence.

In the next room, they were outfitted in the standard tight-fitting flat-gray jumpsuit with 'Subject' in yellow across the back and the Handling seal over the heart. The Subject jumpsuit was a remarkable piece of work...and one that need not be discussed at this time.

That done, the two were brought to the last and final room.

Lerathen was first up, and as such she was maneuvered forward to the block and set down up it. Her left foot was raised upwards and slid into an ankle-lock that dropped down from the ceiling at the end of a solid metal pole.

One of the Handlers would step forward and run her finger along the invisible seam running up the outside of the jumpsuit's left leg, parting the material full-way to the hip. The cloth was drawn back, and Mark stepped forward with the 'iron'.

Now, it wasn't a branding iron by any step of the imagination. It merely served a similar purpose. He pressed the short, stubby, metal rod into the flesh on the outside of her hip and the 'iron' engaged.

It was quick and painless and the rod was withdrawn almost instantly, leaving behind the Handling 'H' brand and another set of tracking devices...to add to the uncountable number already inside Lerathen's body.

Her pant leg was zipped up and her leg was unlocked and lowered, she would be then led out of the room while the same process was repeated with Eldena.

Finally, the two would be deposited in their "cell." Looked more like a hotel room, actually. A pair of beds, vidset, partitioned bathroom, table, chairs...

'cept everything was welded to the floor...

Mark sat down at his desk and pulled up the required forms and began filling them out. With any luck he'd have them done before he had to start on the forms necessary to transfer the pair over to their final destination...

Quietly sitting in his office listening to a selection of classical music after a hard days work, and generally lazing in the tropical sunshine that characterized the nation, Movodor was understandably surprised as one of his aides burst into the room, trailed by a great burst of excited yelling and screaming. "Sir...your wife....daughter..." He attempts to calm down his obviously overexicited aide with a pat on the back. "What is happening, that you would barge into my office like this? And what are you saying about Lerathen and Eldena?" In between gasping for breath, said aide relays the bad news to Movodor. "Her highness...has been kidnapped, along with your daughter." Obviously expecting harsh retaliation for such news, the aide cowers in fear. Movodor, not surprisingly, doesn't believe such a thing could have happened, and shows it with the standard look of disbelief. "What proof do you have of this? And why do you honestly expect me to believe your words?"

The aide, by now shivering with fear, nervously passes to Movodor a set of photo's and documents with liebermonkian seals imprinted on their covers.
Glancing at them with a rather glazed look on his eyes, he hands them back to the aide. "Oh...dear lord...Do we know who took them? and where?"
"No sir, we do not. Not one clue." Falling back into his seat with a loud thud, Movodor dismisses his aide.

Why..did this happen? what god cursed me so, to lose my wife and only daughter? The only possible way I can think of is to use Lorain, and she most certainly wont like to be pulled from her travels, but it must be done, for the sake of my family. He lightly taps a small blue button under his desk. "Secretary, contact Lorain, using any means necessary. I'm sure you understand the graveness of the situation at hand." He then sinks back into the seat, and spirals into a general feeling of grief.

DSS Telarius Kindran, Holding Pattern, System DX1712-875-213, Dark Space

Dark Space. It sounded incredibly corny, and yet...still maintained a semblance of sinisterness. This was quite suitable, as Dark Space, the boonies, the wilds, the area beyond civilization...was quite frightening, indeed.

It was also the natural domain of a Directorate Stealth Cruiser. They were built at Directorate installations in Dark Space, they operated largely in Dark Space...

Anyways, it didn't surprise anyone that the hand-off would take place in Dark Space.
---

Mark Vickers tended to get nervous whenever it was time to hand one of his Subjects off to other people. It was one of the reasons that he was so good at his job, yes, but it made hell on his emotions while he was -doing- that job.

It surprised no-one that he was personally overseeing the transfer of the two captives out of Directorate hands. Similarly unsurprising were the armed guards about the airlock bay.

Lerathen and Eldena were securely bound and wore opaque face-helmets that both concealed their features and prevented them from seeing.

A red light went on as the outer airlock hatch cycled open, then blinked off in favor of an amber light as the outer hatch sealed tight. The hiss of equalizing pressures was completely inaudible from within the bay, but that didn't stop many of the assembled people from hearing it.

Then the amber light flickered to green, and the inner hatch cycled out. Three individuals exited, wearing black. Lots of black.

The first figure wore a black duster over black "cargo" pants and a black t-shirt. The third figure wore a shorter jacked over similar clothing.

The figure in the center was the important one, though.

Mark stepped forward and inclined his head, "Javidhj darda Kalon, Ad?*)

(*"I presume that you are Kalon, Yes?" Language is Darkspeech)

Lerathen had lost track of time. She didn't know wether it had been hours, days, or weeks. Either way, it felt like an eternity. The room she had been carried to felt dead. Something about the place she was in made her extremely uncomfortable. She could hear that the same was true for Eldena. Near her, she heard the soft wimpers of her young daughter. She desperately wanted to tear out of her bindings and to rescue her daughter; however, the entire thing had made her tired and barely able to move.
She began to squirm as she heard a language she could not understand. She was going to be taken somewhere even more unknown and that did not settle well with her. Her heart began pumping energy to her arms and legs and her insticts of self preservation kicked in again. She began fighting againts the bindings forcing her in the position she was.
She screamed as loud as she could. She wasn't sure why. She knew that she had no hopes of success. Something beyond logic had gained control of her mind.

Meanwhile, in the Liebermonkian Parliament, a debate raged. For too long, the Queen had been missing and the opposition party was furious. Liebermonk could not coninue running with the interim leadership system. The people, too, had grown quite restless with the political situation. Rallies had been held almost weekly to create a new government system. So unfortunatley, that act was going to happen within a week. So as Supreme Foreign Minister Jacob Salinas stared out the window towards the sky, he began to dream to himself. Lerathen would come back. He felt it. If she didn't, then he coudl not coninue for she was the one that had guided and helped him. She was his mentor, and hte only one that could make sense out of the situation.

Drakhal Toresani raised an eyebrow, then shook his head with a snicker.

"Kaya. Dosa deej iarda Toresani. Kalon mar sesa krek." (No. I am Toresani. Kalon had other business.)

Of course, there had been no Kalon. (Or rather, there had...but not here. Not now. No Spacedy Vampires for you, Rev.)

Drakhal was far and away the most intimidating of the three individuals. Because he wasn't human, you see. He was Sevle.

He stood about seven feet and seven inches with darkest crimson-black skin and white hair, an inhumanly beautiful face and those eyes...eyes of orange and red with white chaosfire that constantly flickered about within them...

He also wore gracefully formed power armor that, while bulky, did not seem to bother him in the least. The long, slightly curved sabre and pistol that he wore on his belt completed the martial image.

He switched to Trade English.

"Very Good. My Master will be most pleased."

Then he said something in his own language, and one of his two hired thugs murmured something into a lapel mic...and the airlock cycled through again, and two more individuals entered, both Sevle and wearing similar armor to Drakhal. Between them, they dragged a young girl.

This was obviously a hostage exchange, and the Sevle released their charge to Mark, then took Lerathen and Eldena with them into the lock, followed by Drahkal and the two humans. That was that.

Once within the Sevle vessel, Drakhal's personal fast strike cruiser, Lerathen and Eldena would be led to the vessel's bridge, wherepon they would unbound, then re-bound to a pair of shock couches. Then the helmets would be removed.

Drakhal Toresani would look down at them, his all-too-perfect face smiling an all-too-perfect smile with all-too-perfect lips and teeth almost blindingly white in comparison to the darkest black skin with the crimson undertones. His hair was also brushed back in such a way as to show his pointed ears...

"My name is Drakhal Toresani, Mage-Knight of the Sevle and Sworn Lieutenant to Mage-Lord Kassigar Aedarian, Warmaster of the Black Night Void Striker Legion.

You were...abducted...on his orders, and it is my duty to see you delivered to him. He means you no harm...he is simply...curious. Curious because of the physical similarities between our peoples, you see. He wishes to learn more."

Lerathen looked up at her new captors. The black pupils of her deep blue eyes tightened so that they became mere dots. She began to focus her mind on the dark but beautiful creature in front of her. What was he thinking? Did he tell her all the truth? She attempted to probe his mind to find if she was in any immediate danger, but something stopped her. She couldn't reach him. All she could assume was that the powers of her aura had faded in the place she was in, as if there was a force here cancelling it out.
She gave up on that pursuit. She turned her thoughts to Eldena. She looked into her daughters face. It seemed weak. Eldena was not surviving all this as well as Lerathen had.
Lerathen reached out to her daughter. "It's okay my sweet child. Fear not, for you will always be with me. I shall ensure that we remain near."
She knew that she could not ensure that, but her daughter's emotional comfort was all that she could possibly provide right now.
Lerathen turned back to the captor. "Well, Mr. Toresani. It seems that your Lord is quite resolute in his determination to find answers. Oh well. I know that there is not much that can occur now, besides you finalizing your mission. Please, I ask of you however, to make this more comfortable than the other trips have been. You are obviously not here to hurt us. The least you could do is ensure we are in good condition for when we are delivered to your Lord."
She stared back into the captor's eyes. She wasn't sure if the returning stare was of understanding or evil... it was hard to tell with his eyes.

Kassigar Aedarion's Battle Barge was a mammoth vessel, even compared to the Battle Barges of other Sevle legions. This was allowed because the Black Night did not bother with attacking other legions. Their interests were aimed into the unknown, their all-consuming passion was the quest for knowledge.

It fully dwarfed Drakhal Toresani's Fast Strike Cruiser, making the quite large (1.5km) Strike Cruiser look quite a bit...smaller... against its bulk. (Nearly 15km. Big. Yes.)

Drakhal would take an assault shuttle (as if the Sevle had any other sort of shuttle) over to the Farseeker from his cruiser, with the two elves in tow, and escorted by his personal nine-man retinue.

Lerathen and Eldena were bundled up in vacuum suits, as carefully fitted to their sizes as could be expected, considering the suits were made for short Sevle...who were still quite a bit over six foot.

Thusly, they could be moved through the boat bay, which was open to hard vacuum. The airlocks were numerous and cycled very quickly, so it wasn't long before Lerathen and Eldena, bereft of their vacuum suits, were brought before Kassigar Aedarion, Warmaster of the Black Night and High Mage-Lord of the Sevle.

Kassigar was one of the most powerful Sevle in existence, ranking just beneath Mage-King Torquemada Illyrian in his power, and he certainly looked the part.

He stood almost eight feet tall in his ornately crafted Relic Armor, a great black-headed war mace hung from belt, and his gauntleted right hand grasped a black-shafted staff with an ornate white head. The black-and-white theme was carried throughout the entire legion, as they were the colors of the Black Night. Primarily black with white highlights.

He rose from his throne and looked over the two young elves, then hunched down slightly so as to get a better look at Lerathen, before going down to one knee before Eldena...and peering very closely at her.

The elves would feel as if the red-orange warpfire-lit eyes of that great Sevle Mage-Lord pierced to the very center of their beings and beyond. Back to the very beginning...

And then he would turn his head slightly to the side and nod...

"So that is how it came to be. Aye...that does not surprise me."

He returned to his command throne, and waved his hand slightly.

"I apologize for the manner in which you were brought here. Space Pirates can be so...thorough...some times, can't they? I would be quite willing to return you to your home personally, now, and I hope that you bear us no ill will...you have proved very useful to me, really. I am now closer than ever to, perhaps, unlocking the mysteries of my race's past..."

OOC: Damn you rev! return Mov's wife already. also I'm posting from the airport! at 12:14am! will probably get around to posting from carlos's house.

"You... you... you!"
Lerathen's face turned a slight red. A rage burned in her eyes that Eldena has never seen before. The young daughter let out a tear at the sight.
"How dare you! You put me and my daughter through hell just so you can look at us for two seconds!"
Lerathen struggled to stand up higher. She felt weak next to the High Mage-Lord, but would not let herself be the weaker now.
"You are not going to end it with just that. I demand to know why you would go through all the trouble bringing us here."
The air around Lerathen warmed as her mind began releasing unintentional telekinetic waves.
"Why didn't you just ask us for help!? I would've come if it only took that much. But you had to go and kidnap us! I want answers. I want to know what all this trouble was worth before I go anywhere!"

Kassigar peered down at the Elf, his chaosfire-shot eyes seeming to gaze right through her...

He smiled, then, and rolled a few choice thoughts through his head. Then he turned to his helmsman and gave a few rapid fire orders that translated to:

"The Flotilla will set a course to Earth. The Atheist Reality. Now."

Then he turned back to Lerathen, and his words were quite calm.

"Those in glass houses should not throw stones."

"Those in glass houses should not throw stones."

The words echoed through her head. It was enough of a warning for her. She needn't risk angering her caretakers too much. But as she tried to calm herself, her Elfen emotions took over. She slumped over and began to cry. It wasn't a loud cry, merely a calm whimper. She had been trying and trying to just have something go her way, but now she finally realized that as much as she try, things were out of control.
She looked up at the High Mage-Lord as Eldena grabbed her by the wrist. Her face was of pleading. She wanted her mother to just let whatever they planned to happen. Although she couldn't understand what the High Mage-Lord had said, she had a sense that if things went as they planned, they would be home soon.
"Mommy, please. Just let them do what they want. Maybe if we're nice enough we'll get to go home. I miss my daddy and my home..."

Lerathen looked to her daughter and realized that it was time to give up.
"Please forgive me. My daughter and I have gone through a very hard time. I only wished to understand why we've been put through this. If you wish to not share this with me, I understand. Please, just let me know that I shall return home safely."

Kassigar exhaled slowly, then nodded, as if agreeing with some unknown force...

"My mission in life is to undertand. The foremost part of that mission is to understand...my race. The Sevle. It is...perhaps...the greatest curse imaginable that the greatest mystery to a race of immortals is that race itself.

Sol...Earth...is not a hospitable system for my kind. Because of the way we look, because of our beliefs, because of our civilization. There was a time when we would sweep in and bend these...Solars...to our wills...but that time has past. Now...we are weak.

We expend our strength in petty squabbles amongst ourselves, and we are not united.

When my Legion awakened from our Long Sleep, we chose to distance ourselves from the power struggles and factionalism of our brother Sevle, and instead look to the past, to that great darkness that hides our legacy.

Yes, you were kidnapped. Because I am wary of starting a war that I can not win. We are not naturally violent people, Lerathen. We are, however, easily provoked. Even amongst my Black Night, there are those whose blood runs hot...who will meet even the slightest insult with drawn steel.

The Black Night is not considered a threat by the other Sevle Legions. That does not mean that we are not soldiers. We maintain our fighting prowess, it is simply that we direct that prowess outwards, rather than in the direction of other Sevle.

We will return you to your Husband...and you may know that we are in your debt. We are...truly...sorry for the manner in which you were brought here. The entire matter was handled through a series of middlemen..."

He shrugged, as if to say "what can you do?," then finished his little speech.

"As I said, we are in your debt. One request, one reasonable request, I will grant you. Beyond returning you home, mind you...and I suggest that you keep that request for a time. But, with that one request, you may have the aid of myself and my legion for one task...and if that task is within our power, we will complete it. My word on that."

Lerathen steeled herself to ask something that could mean the seperation of her from another member of her family, something she dreaded ever increasingly more. All the while Eldena was still tugging at her mothers arm, even more afraid than she was, for she was too young to even understand all of this.
"...And if you cannot return me to my home, and to my husband, please, for the sake of my daughter, return her to her father. She deserves that much."
Their ears drooping a little, both Lerathen and Eldena stare at the mage lord with pleading eyes, as if mentally urging the sevle to indeed return Eldena to her home.
Movodor himself was of course unaware of all of this conversation, still in the midst of the general depression that had gripped him since the end of the civil war, on top of the sense of loss the taking of his wife and daughter had brought down upon him.

Kassigar shook his head wryly, "Don't assume that I'm evil. Don't assume that I'm cruel. And don't assume that you're more than an inconvenience. We are already headed to Earth. Then we shall see. I have...reports...on the situation in your Husband's country, and they are...not...exactly...what I would call positive. I will make judgement when I arrive -- but I will say now that I will not separate you from your child."

He then crossed his arms over his chest, letting his staff lean against his thigh...and the matter was closed and decided.

"Figures."

Kassigar grumbled absently as he glared at the sensor plot. The massive Grand Battlecarrier of the Black Night floated in perfect anonymity (amazing how well a 15km long warship could fit in in Sol.)

"Putting those two fluff-brained elfs down in the middle of that might be a -little- less certain than shooting them in the forehead, but it'd be a close thing."

Kassigar nodded absently at the lieutenant who had spoken, one Kressnaeijan Kalamasu.

"Quite so. But the situation changes drastically when they are escorted by even one Void Striker," Kassigar murmured in a quiet, pondering tone.

Then he smiled ferally, "Someone like you, Kressnaeijian."

The War-Knight, his armor gleaming the sort of gleam that only happened when it was straight from the forge -- he had become a War Knight less than a month ago -- shook his head faintly, then nodded.

Kassigar grinned, then, "Take a pod. I'll have reinforcements standing by."

Kressnaeijian was already walking out from the briefing room, collecting his two charges, and settling his helmet into place. He kept the visor up -- no hostile gasses just yet.
---

The pod shot had gone well enough, and so Kressnaeijian emerged first, leading with his Carbine. Along with the carbine, a dual-shot heavy pistol rode in a holster on one hip, and opposite was his war-knight's sabre, an expertly crafted flickerblade.

Then, noting the lack of threats, he signalled the two elves forwards.

"Well, then. We're here, now. So where the hell is this exalted husband of yours?"