Private The Fourth Week

[Paila Dalle]

The stars of hyperspace dissolved into pinpricks of white as the little transport slipped back into realspace. Ahead, Nirauan hung quietly against the darkness, it's clouded atmosphere wrapped around mountain ranges and forests that appeared almost tranquil from orbit. Had she not known who awaited her below, she might have mistaken it for any other peaceful world scattered across the Outer Rim.

The navigation computer chimed softly as it confirmed arrival. Paila reached forward and silenced it. For a few moments she remained seated in the cockpit, simply watching the planet through the forward canopy. The journey had given her ample time to think. More, perhaps, than she would have preferred.

Four weeks. She had kept her promise. The holocron rested securely within a reinforced compartment behind her seat, untouched since its final closing. It's purpose had been fulfilled, at least as far as she was concerned. What it contained no longer existed in only one place. Weeks had been spent carefully documenting its contents, not by blindly reproducing every symbol, but by recording it's history, translating it's language where she could, and preserving what knowledge seemed worthy of surviving alongside careful notes of it's context and dangers.

It was not a perfect copy. Perhaps it never could be. Some things belonged to the object itself. Its age. Its craftsmanship. The impressions left by hands thousands of years gone. But if the holocron were destroyed, it's knowledge would not vanish with it. And that mattered.

Her eyes lingered upon Nirauan. She still did not know whether she intended to surrender it. Understanding what it contained had not made the decision easier. Only more honest.

Beside the pilot's seat rested her beskar staff, secured within easy reach more from habit than expectation. She had not come seeking a fight. If violence followed, it would not be because she had arrived looking for one.

"A promise kept," she murmured to the empty cockpit. Whether his would be remained to be seen.

She keyed the communications console, transmitting only the identification codes necessary to announce her arrival.

To Aurelian.

I have arrived at Nirauan, as promised.

Inform me where you would have me land.

The message was brief. Nothing more needed saying. With the transmission sent, Paila settled back into her seat and waited patiently in orbit, the world turning slowly beneath her while silence filled the cockpit once more. Somewhere below was a man who believed that the galaxy could only be saved by ending an age. She had come not to argue that history should be forgotten but to see whether two people who had kept their word could still find another path before either was forced to break it.

Tag: Aurelian Sigismund

 

[Aurelian Sigismund]

Aurelian

Hegemon · Lord Indomitus · Dragonknight

✠ Griffin of Vandemar ✠

✠ Directive ✠

Consecration

✠ Sector ✠

Nirauan · Eternal Triumph

✠ Wargear ✠

Armor · Sword

The silence of the void buzzed with activity. From the hyperlane points to the planet there was traffic, small freighters, tenders, large cargo ships moved as the Imperial world received and released them. The rebuilding obviously had an effect on the planet, with it came trade and industry to fuel the need for consumer goods, work and expenses. As typical for their kind, the government tightly controlled who came and who went. Signal and guiding boyes, custom stations with scanners, patrols were mandatory for entrance and for those who felt brave - above the civilian traffic corridors throned silent silhouettes of Star Destroyers, their cold presence being a menacing backdrop to the thriving ports.

It seemed a miracle that such a minor, short transmission was not completely lost.

She received a hail and coordinates as well as some security codes to move without interuption to her new destination. It was not on the planet, not on Nirauan. But led her further out of the system, through military installations and finally to what almost seemed like only void.

The Eternal Triumph suddenly appeared in front of her, from bow to stern measuring several kilometers, the massive battle-barge looked like it was from a different age with its split front and sleek design. Massive weapon emplacements, gun batteries and sensor spikes extended from its otherwise clean and smooth hull.

Her craft was guided to the flank below one of the prows where a several hangar bays opened, only now the clear white light from their interior becoming apparent. Their interior brightly illuminated by white-blue hue which seemed to originate from everywhere at once, not even a hint of shadow remained on the blue-gray deck as the ship would set down.

She was awaited by a single individual. Aurelian. He was out of his armour and dressed in a long doublet of gray and red, the weapon at his side reminding of his martial disposition. His hands were clasped as he waited for her.

✠ Dispatch Directed To ✠

Paila Dalle

Eternal Duty · Eternal Loyalty · Eternal Order