Wasn't Someone Supposed to Call the Orkin Man??

[Araxis]

The desert heat rose into the air in shimmers, liquid diamonds undulating upwards in small waves. The sun beat down heavily from the azure sky, burning with its face revealed, without the marring mask of cloud cover. In the distance, a rock outcropping reached up into the air, shining carmine behind the dizzying curtains of heat-shimmers. Wraith left wickedly clawed marks in the sand behind her as she marched inexorable on towards Cethyn's grave, basking comfortably in the heat that quite possibly could have killed most other inhabitants of Fyia. Though she was specifically adapted to this world's alien climes, Wraith's genes still harkened back to the original habitat of Orion Prime, homeworld of the Cython race.

Wraith was oblivious to the beauty of the environment surrounding her. She held her antennae high in an insectoid "smile" for finally having gotten away from that chicken-shit Setthirosa. He was such a fool--not killing unless absolutely necessary for his own survival. What a hypocrite! He made Wraith angry, all the more so because Rift actually found his presence tolerable--even enjoyable. But thoughts of Setthirosa and Rift drove Wraith back into the pits of her fury, and she viciously kicked out at a terrified lizard scampering energetically away. The small reptile sailed haphazardly through the dry air to sprawl awkwardly upon the hot snads, dead and bent in an unnatural position. Wraith continued on her way slightly more amused.

Drawing nigh to the sanguine rocks jabbing violently up towards the cloudless sapphire heavens, Wraith was suddenly bombarded by the memory of Cethyn's death. Through his eyes she watched the Orion Sentinel leap forwards, point of his glittering black sword seeking, seeking. Wraith felt again the burning agony of the blade sawing viciously across Cethyn's body. Then blackness closed in, the ending of Cethyn's consciousness and the beginning of Wraith's and Rift's, and Wraith was wrenched out of the memory of her past. Rage built up within her as she relived Cethyn's fall in a memory as real as if it had truly just happened. Once again, as she felt the pressure of her wrath filling her center, Wraith swore to herself the fell oath that the Orion responsible for Cethyn's death would pay, that she would play the goddess Vengeance and end the Orion's worthless life as he had ended Cethyn's most worthy one.

Ire still boiling within her, Wraith continued stoically on her pilgrimage to the outcropping, fuming on the turmoil of thoughts bubbling chaotically in her broken mind. However, the tumult of thoughts condemning Rift, Setthirosa, and the nameless Orion Sentinel came to a sudden halt as Wraith stepped noiselessly into the midst of the tall, jagged rocks. There, rising out of the ground like a black iron cross, was the ebon adamantium falchion that had pierced and slain Cethyn, and for once Wraith was awed into stunned stillness. It gleamed as faultlessly as it did in the image of its severe edge, hunting for Cethyn's breast, surging at that moment through Wraith's memory; dust did not mar its luster, as one would think it would after three years standing alone in the desert, and if it were at all dulled Wraith could not discern it.

Inspired to action by the vision confronting her, Wraith strode forward on long triple-jointed legs and took firm hold of the lengthy hilt in her powerful claws, and with a surge of strength, violently pulled the long, two-hand sword from the parched, cracked earth. At first, rage flowing through every fiber of her being at sight of this, the instrument of Cethyn's destruction, Wraith was intent on casting it away, throwing it out into the desert there to be buried by the sands of time and lost forever to the world. Then, answering to reason, she thought better of such a decision, lowering the falchion, adjusting her grasp to a more comfortable grip. She could use this . . . it would be fairly easy to wield, being similar in principle to the slashing of her claws, or so she imagined--much easier to use effectively than that stupid contraption called the Nile by Rift and Setthirosa. Hefting the heavy adamantium sword lightly in her hands, she began swinging it around slowly, then at increased rate. Yes . . . this would be her weapon--and how fittingly ironic that it should now prove to be the vehicle of the Orion Sentinel's doom. Wraith smiled, her antennae raising of their own accord as her fury took a back seat to the smug knowledge of imminent retribution for the source of her woe. And the sword's name? . . . Vindication . . .

[Triunis]

[glow=silver,2,300]"Fascinating, isn't it, what the past can make us do?"[/glow]

From behind a large stone stepped a tall, silvery creature robed in blue. He swished his tail back and forth as he walked towardsthe insectiond creature.

[glow=silver,2,300]"You seek vengance for the one who died by that weapon, correct? I could so easily give it to you . . .[/glow]

He raised his mechanical right arm, holding it palm up before him. Silver and blue energy swirled within it, and his eyes glowed with a mystical light.

[glow=silver,2,300]"You show great promise, Cython. I would like to assist you in your quest . . . provided you can aid mine. The Orion, the Archarialite, and the pathetic creature that calls herself Rift will all be merely shades of a nightmare long past. All you have to do . . .

. . . is assist me."[/glow]

[Araxis]

Wraith twitched when the creature stepped from behind the stone, her antennae spasming in the equivalent of a human jump of surprise. Nervous uncertainty crept into her mind, and she brought Vindication's point up towards the silver being. Who was he; what was he doing here? Seeking her aid. Why should she help him? He was just another being out for himself, like every other creature existant; but he said he could help her in her quest for vengeance. Turmoil filled her mind as she pondered these questions, observing the energy flowing around his outstretched hand. He certainly looked powerful. But how did he know about Wraith and Rift, and Setthirosa, and the Orion? Who was he to have access to this knowledge? Was it so common that everyone knew--or was he privelaged somehow in a way other people were not?

"What is your name?" Wraith demanded imperially, in a voice meant for a true Cython Overseer--after all, she was, now, the last remaining Cython and therefore, the Overseer herself. "What are you? And more importantly, how do you know my plight?" Rearing up to her maximum height, employing her antennae to further the impression of immensity, Wraith peered at the silver being with her multifaceted eyes that glinted ebon in the sun. Tilting her head as a dog might, she clicked her mandibles together sharply, then proceeded with her last query. "What is it that you desire my aid in?"

The sun continued to beat down as the Cython waited for the answers to her questions. An ember of hatred still glowed within her, though the flames were out for the moment, replaced with curiosity with this being before her. Wraith's cloak hung heavily in the still, dry air, caked grey with dust. Her carapace shone like burnished ebony under the severe light of the sun, a grotesque visage of spines, joints, and claws that nevertheless held a sort of deadly beauty in her absolute stillness of pose, her figure held poised in constant readiness to strike out with the fatal speed of a viper. Only those that recognize the mantis as gorgeous, or the wasp as beautiful, would be awed by Wraith however, and only fools would not be afraid.

[Triunis]

Mahandronis knew how that he'd found what he was looking for in this insect. He closed his eyes and drew his lip up in a smile revealing teeth that were perhaps just too sharp.

[glow=silver,2,300]"Calm yourself, child. I am not your enemy. My name is Mahandronis. I am a Relic, though I do not think you would know what that is. And I know of your plight because I have been . . . closely monitering Setthirosa for the last few years. He and I have a past that is very intertwined.[/glow]

He gave a low, short chuckle at the Cython's would-be intimidating stance. As he crossed his right arm in front of himself, the energy around it dispersed and it began to morph into the weapon that was so infamous in most of the galaxy.

[glow=silver,2,300]"As for what I desire your aid in . . . well, I have very complex goals. Certainly, none I am at liberty to discuss openly with you at this point. However, I can say that I do not like this planet. I do not like anyone on it. As far as I am concerned, it may burn under the judiciary fist of Lonærtheratu. However, he wills it not.

As such, I want it gone. I want the sentient creatures here destroyed, and I care not for everything else. If you are willing to assist me in this, I will destroy Setthirosa and the Orion, rid you of Rift, and leave you here to rebuild the Cython empire."[/glow]

He raised his weapon skyward, glancing just for a moment at the dial which read ".0569" in standard. As he felt the shot blast from his arm, he grinned. Shadows now covered the land, and a storm began to brew with the force of the magnetic disturbance he had unleashed.

[glow=silver,2,300]"If you join me, you have everything. If you do not, then you must destroy a master who is known throughout the Isonia Confederation as the most skilled fighter in the last century. Do not leave everything to what you have learned in the past few years; if you do, you will fail and you will die."[/glow]

The Relic did not exaggerate; Setthirosa was incredibly talented. Even Mahandronis had had trouble subduing his mind, and had somehow lost control.

[glow=silver,2,300]Once I have destroyed him, then I may feel peace once more.[/glow]

[Araxis]

Incensed with Mahandronis' words, Wraith grinned with her antennae high. She cradled the glittering black sword in her multi-jointed, clawed arms, as the sky darkened to a shade similar to that of the blade. With the sudden electricity in the air, it almost seemed as though Vindication were alive in her arms, pulsing, possibly with desire to draw blood again after three years of dust in this dry wasteland; or perhaps with loathing of the wielder now carrying it, so bent on the destruction of its previous owner.

But some of the--Relic, Mahandronis called himself--some of his words worried Wraith. He sought the destruction of sentient life on Fyia--and sentient life included herself. She did not know if he realized this, if he was so eager he was blind to other intelligence, or if he did not imply that Wraith herself be included in his plans for genocide. He spoke of rebuilding the "Cython Empire", of helping Wraith rid herself of Setthirosa, the Orion, and even Rift. Wraith desired no aid in vindicating Cethyn's death save in the discernment of the Orion Sentinel's position that she might strike at him. The other two would prove more difficult, however, she was certain, and perhaps help would prove ultimately useful . . .

Uncertain of whether to accept his offer of aid or spurn it, Wraith tilted her head the other way, clicking her mandibles indecisively. Waving her antennae, idly scenting the swiftly charging air under the darkening heavens, Wraith decided to ask exactly what Mahandronis intended with his words.

"You speak of the destruction of sentient life without adressing the fact that you and I are sentient. What happens if we are the last? Will we turn on each other, you to finish your task, myself to defend my Hive? How then, could there be an alliance between us?" The ember of fury within her had awakened to a brilliant glow in response to the Relic's final words, which seemed to Wraith almost a threat, and her rebellious nature further inflamed her wrath. Now she wondered if this creature's answer would be trustworthy--after all if it was prepared to destroy sentient life, what guarantee had she that it would give her a straight answer? Now she waited anxiously for an answer, alert of the building storm overhead, mirroring her disposition.

[Triunis]

Mahandronis raised an eyebrow. Wraith seemed to be capable of what he needed, and also seemed to be violent and unpredictable. However, her distrust could prove problematic.

[glow=silver,2,300]"In the event that you do succeed in rebuilding the race and assist me as I have required, then Fyia is yours. I do not want for it, merely for its destruction. Figuratively, that is. The Cython seem no threat to me, so I see no reason why you should not persist here."[/glow]

The Relic was being slightly more deceptive than was charactaristic. In actuallity, he would probably return eventually to wipe out any sentients that had regrown. Doubtless the Cython would be extinct from natural causes by then, but he didn't feel the need to state this.

[glow=silver,2,300]"In any event, you have no reason to distrust me. If I wanted your race extinct, I would kill you here and now. You are three years old, and I am millions of millenia old. I have a definate advantage. However, your race as a whole is more useful to me alive than extinct. And I would appreciate your help."[/glow]

He slowly rose into the air, propelled by magic rather than his outstretched wings. As rain poured down upon him, lightning silhouetted his figure, leaving his brightly shining eyes to stare through the gloom.

[glow=silver,2,300]"Assist me, and this planet will be forever the home of the Cython. Assist me, and you will destroy your foes. Assist me, and rid yourself of Longshanks and Rift forever."[/glow]

[Araxis]

Mahandronis' logic was impeccable. Personally, Wraith did not think that the Relic could kill her, but his words were true enough. Rain coursed down her carapace in complex and intricate rivulets that shifted with every move she made. "Very well," she spoke in her harsh insectile voice, "I will assist you." Twitching an antenna, she raised Vindication and, turning swiftly, cut deeply into the rock jabbing up into the darkened sky, carving into it the only symbol the Cython ever used. Now Cethyn's grave was marked even without the sword, a testament to stand the test of time.

Turning slowly back to Mahandronis, Wraith's ebon form, her cloak billowing behind her in the fierce wind, was silhouetted by a flash of lightning burning through the sky not so far away. Thunder rolled as rain sleeted down to be swallowed up by the thirsty ground of the desert, the sands seemingly melting under the violent onslaught. Wraith's claws sank into the mud, forming deep, sharply clawed marks in the maleable earth as she hoisted Vindication to her shoulder.

Gazing up at the form of Mahandronis black against the dark backdrop of the angry clouds matching her mood, Wraith clicked her mandibles together in a sign of decision. "The Cython race will once again span the stars, spreading our seed across the galaxy. None can oppose us. Not even the Orions." Antennae high in a smile she asked, "Now, how am I to help you? What tasks do you seek completion in?"

[Triunis]

Mahandronis smiled; he had now aquired the accomplice he desired.

[glow=silver,2,300]"Patience, young Wraith. All shall be revealed. What I desire is the extinction of sentient life. Little more I can tell you. What I need to do is eliminate Setthirosa - for personal reasons - and have you establish a hive here on Fyia. The Cython will be perfect at the mass genocide which I require."

The Cython should pose little threat to the Endocists. If they get uppity, we have ways of removing them . . .[/glow]

He looked at Wraith and smiled. Dropping to the ground, he held up his arm-turned-gun and laughed.

[glow=silver,2,300]"Come, Wraith. Let us go now to the Arkane Lands. We shall see what you have been taught, and what I have left to teach you. You see, there is a creature whom I have challenged, and I wish to show you how to kill."[/glow]

With this, he turned and began walking away from the insect, towards the city.

[glow=silver,2,300]The stage is set, and the actors take their places . . .[/glow]