Private The Colossus of Tython

[Laertia Io]

THE NEW COLOSSUS

TYTHON IS A MIXED LEGACY FOR HOUSE IO.

ON THE ONE HAND, THE FACTION HELPED DEAL A CRITICAL BLOW TO THE BROTHERHOOD OF THE MAW, STOPPING THEM FROM DESTROYING TYTHON, ON THE OTHER, THEY LOST MASSIVE NUMBERS OF THEIR OWN WARRIORS IN THE PROCESS.

ITS TAKEN YEARS TO RECOVER FROM THE DAMAGE. AND SINCE THE COLLAPSE OF MAJOR FACTIONS, THE HOUSE HAS FACED AN INFLUX OF REFUGEES FROM THE RIM AND BEYOND, DISENCHANTED WITH THE WORKINGS OF JEDI LED DEMOCRACY AND FINDING THE HOUSE'S MESSAGE OF SELF DETERMINATION, OF RENEWING AND RECREATING ONESELF INTO AN APEX SURVIVOR AND WARRIOR SEDUCTIVE, A FLOOD OF THOUSANDS HAS THREATENS TO TURN INTO MILLIONS OF IMMIGRANTS, TO THE EXTENT THAT THE HOUSE HAS ACTUALLY BEGUN TO PRODUCE MORE, CHEAP VESSELS TO HOUSE THEM, BUT EVEN SCION MOBILE SHIPYARD'S NOTORIOUS EFFICIENCY STRAINS UNDER THE EFFORT TO PRODUCE THE CHEAP, RELIABLE CRUISERS THE HOUSE SLOWLY FINDS ITSELF RELYING ON MORE AND MORE, NOT JUST TO STORE AND FEED IMMIGRANTS BUT TO PROPERLY VET AND ROOT OUT POTENTIAL SPIES, LEADING TO WIDESPREAD SCAVENGING OF MATERIALS, INCLUDING AN INCREASE OF PIRACY AGAINST ITS ENEMIES.

BUT ALLEVIATION IS ON THE WAY.

THE COLOSSUS OF TYTHON IS THE NEWEST CAPITAL CITY OF THE HOUSE. UNDER CONSTRUCTION FOR A LONG TIME, THE PARLIAMENT IS ON THE VERGE OF UNVEILING THE MASSIVE VESSEL TO HER HOUSE, BUT A RECENT, GRISLY MURDER ABOARD THE SHIP USING A RITUAL UNFAMILIAR TO THE CULT HAS IGNITED FEARS OF ATTEMPTED SABOTAGE

UNWILLING TO RESORT TO HER USUAL AGENTS ON A SUSPICION THEY MAY BE RECOGNIZED, AND DESIRING TO MAKE SURE THE VESSEL LAUNCHES ON SCHEDULE, THE PARLIAMENT HAS CONTACTED HER OLD ACQUAINTANCE Naivia Neryn TO EXAMINE THE RITUAL SITE IN QUESTION AS WELL AS BE HER FIRST GUEST ABOARD...
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Frederick Pendra had never been much of a warrior in the House.

Sure, he had passed the final test of immigration, lasting against a Model 1 for a brief time. Barely. But he worked best as a techie.

He had joined around the time House Io had started doing clandestine work for the Eternal Empire. He was a refugee from a Maw world, same as his little brother. Everyone else he loved was dead. He had been young, thirsting for vengeance. Easy recruit.

Man had this faction gone freaking crazy over the years.

He wasn't a coward. He had shed blood, the same as any member of House Io eventually does. But over time...he had come to quietly regret his decision. He had never voiced it to anyone, and it was ironically the House teachings on hiding thoughts that kept it from being discovered.

But his brother had never felt the same way. He stayed, and so had Frederick.

And now he was dead, murdered on a giant mobile station built by a woman he had once believed in.

A station his brother had been an engineer on.

He had never been to Khemost, content to remain aboard one of those old Interdictor designs the House had scavenged as an engineer. The damn things were built so simple even a gizka could fix it.

He had demanded answers. He had been promised by the Chaplain that had visited he would receive them.

His barracks was kept clean and to specs. You had to on old vessels like this. Fortunately they were easy to clean. Little personal items still decorated the area he shared with others. He had a photo of his brother taped on the wall his bunk was close to.

The scrawny Tier 3 Citizen had been off duty but still in his work clothes when a General Purpose Nuetralizer had walked in, not clad in that usually skintight reflective green armorweave they usually wore, but in a dark green business suit with a pinstripe coat and minidress. The biots weren't so bad. Most times, you even forgot you were talking to a lethal combat android, especially if they had been active a while. But something would always remind you eventually. Whether it was the precision of their walk or movement in general, or the flawless skin, some small thing always broke the masquerade.

He stood at attention as she handed him a letter. He tore it open on the spot'

Citizen Pendra, your presence has been requested at Scion Mobile Shipyard Outpost 007 at once. Pack supplies for five days.

After that he had packed and he was on his way to the hangar bay, about to leave in a Lambda Class Shuttle. The trip had left him terrified.

Everyone knew Mobile Shipyard 007 was a place The Matriarch could be found often, consulting Scions scientists.

It took all his self control to hide his fear as the shuttle had come out of hyperspace, where a fleet of piece meal ad-hoc dockyards orbited a gas giant, two giant Dockyards present at the front of a massive vessel.

The Parliament was insane, no doubt, but he couldn't fault her skill in ship construction.

But inside the hangarof the dock they landed on, as the nervous techie had stepped off the shuttle in full dress uniform, he froze at the sight of Lyssa Io . She had morphed herself to look like she wore a gray business suit.

Nanite Assassin Droid. He had heard of them, but had never seen them up close.

"Citizen Pendra..." Lyssa spoke in an unnaturally serene voice. Please wait with me a moment. The other guest is sure to arrive soon...

 

[Naivia Neryn]

Clothing:Image
Year after year changes eternity itself, and sadness itself freezes in nature's eyes. Born from fire to death, burned in the horrors of war and nurtured by the freedom of flight...Proud and arrogant, languid and untrusting, cold and hot, iron and dead. The language of a mortal creature holds many secrets, pains and doubts. From the first cry, may the Almighty understand and forgive us, we stand under arms in the guard of life, a soldier from beginning to end. Not the gold coin on the tongue of the poisoned lord, not the steady breathing in the pitch-dark midnight darkness, not the organ and decay-filled remnants of the departing soul, not one of the accomplishments of the material spirit has prevailed over the fate of Neryn. Born in a well-known for its mystery, and a kind of half-closed culture of the elite family of one of the leading businessmen on Brentaal, the girl from an early age languished hidden from the eyes of the proletariat and other below born on the steps of the hierarchy of poor creatures affairs of higher economic class home planet. Thus gifted in the highest sense of the word, from an early age this miracle tried to comprehend the immensity and wind of vital energy flowing from one substance to another, from a light bubble on a festive day to the drops of a fountain in a lonely park, from the desires of thousands of crying souls and millions of ancient tablets to the semi-mythical dimensions of love, knowledge and death. But nature is not always benevolent to provide her child with a gift without the first thorns of the blossoming rose of fortune, from whose jealous bout Neryn learned the value of all that she called goodness. It was neither philosophical nor even scientific, but a metaphysical description of the picture of the world, formulated decades later, at the moment of return to the familiar and therefore no less mystical planet Khemost, where she was invited as part of the emerging uncomfortable for local authorities realities that required both a special flair and "bite" of madness, which from arrival at the world was so rich and known female soul of Neryn! As always, simultaneously flashing and jumping from place to place as she struggled with some inner conviction, Neryn arrived safely at the rendezvous point, completely oblivious to the mobile shipyard number, much less the various droids and other specific elements of this composition for internal consumption only. Before entering the ship she bowed as usual and approaching Lyssa Io she smiled at her and replied. "Naivia Neryn is in place by invitation, hope you weren't bored without me!" And seating herself on an empty seat she squinted at the second guest with purely biometric curiosity studying his body structure and possible interests that would help her get closer to her potential mate in this very promising venture.
Lyssa Io
Laertia Io

 

[Lyssa Io]

The Nanite Assassin blinked at Naivia Neryn and her enthusiasm, head swiveling too smoothly between her and Citizen Pendra.

"How can I be bored?" Lyssa asked. "I've never met you before. I am Lyssa. First born daughter of Laertia. Please accompany me, the both of you."

Lyssa indirectly gave them a tour as they walked. The space docks were a quiet flurry of activity, various House Citizens, both droids and Organics, busily rushed supplies to the massive city-ship, and it wasn't long before they were all taking a shuttle ride to its hangar. The Colossus of Tython was a built from the salvaged frame of an eclipse class super star destroyer.

"A marvel. It'll be one of the largest stealth vessels in the Galaxy when it's ready..." Lyssa remarked as they landed, stepping out to a row of her skeleton like Model 1's, covered in scratches, medals, and paint markings for battles.

They saluted as she disembarked. The hangars alone stretched into the distance.

"Due to launch very soon. Are you hungry, or shall I show you to your quarters?" she asked the both of them...

"I'm hungry." Pendra noted.

Lyssa turned to Neryn. "And you?"

 

[Naivia Neryn]

"I would be most grateful to you for doing me such a favour of providing me with food to satisfy the emptiness of a day's travel, hunger and more." Neryn answered a little high-pitchedly, as always immersed in her own deep thoughts, partly reflected in the image of the hangars of spaceships of various sizes and for various needs stretching for kilometres into the distance, an unusual fleet of a not universally recognised well-armed organisation with its own aims, views and values for assessing the incidents and historical turmoil that the whole galaxy has to go through again every time in a matter of months with short "moments of peaceful respite". In many ways it was the emotional makeup of the place that prevented Neryn from fully enjoying her time with one and close friend's daughters, for in the grey and dark blue paint job of the hangars were traces of the pain and suffering that the House of Io would still have to go through in order to complete the metaphysical process of building its small but nevertheless beautiful world surrounded by various biomechanical supporters and secret tempters of fate, always lurking in the distant sands of time, hoping at the right moment of inclement weather to offer an unfair deal and make the party to this agreement dependent on them like as another spider's web of a criminal game appearing between the real figures/movers of progress and happiness and those watchful eyes from the silence of the night, always languishing in the hearts of the poor with their dubious rewards and dreams, Neryn hoped that neither the construction of such massive ships nor the various outside players would organise such a trick on the dearly beloved House of Io of hers, of which she had been a part of for months and was willing to do anything for those who moved her hopes forward and restored her faith in the coming of a better day for all the inhabitants of the galaxy.

Lyssa Io