Citadel of Yun-Yuuzhan

Fri Oct 22, 2010 8:58 am by Zho'Tar Uul

=High Priest Moorsh Yabu=

*Since the High Prefect was currently remaining silent, Moorsh took a step forward, still in his bowing kneel and said.* Supreme One, I have come on behalf of Most High Priest Zho'Tar Uul. I bring now before you the Royal Seers that High Priest Uul has deemed most reliable to guide and advise you. *As Moorsh spoke, the 4 Seers all strode forward to be lined up perfectly with him, all remaining in the bowed position.*

Mon Nov 08, 2010 11:29 pm by Australis

*Fresh from sacrificing some slaves, and a few captured explorers, who he'd taken pleasure in flaying alive, High Priest of Yun-Yammka Yorik Krul entered the citadel proper.*

You seers are overrated. The gods tell us our path when they decide we are good and ready, not through your mystics and charlatanism. Quiet your tongues, lest my amphistaff become upset.

Where are the warriors here? I have need of brave Yuuzhan Vong. Do'roiike Vong Pratte!

Tue Nov 09, 2010 3:44 pm by Zho'Tar Uul

*Most High Priest Zho'Tar Uul slid gracefully into view from behind the Supreme Overlord, holding a Fero xyn in the crook of his left arm like an infant. His long, pitch black robeskin flowing and sliding gently along the floor. Looking down upon the the High Priest of Yun-Yammka, the High Priest of Yun-Yuuzhan, the High Prefect, and the Royal Seers that he himself had sent to meet with the Supreme One, he focused on Yorik Krul and said in a demanding tone.* Hold your tongue High Priest, or lose it! Today, I have had a vision! One that the Gods saw fit to bestow upon me! *Looking down upon the Fero xyn, then up to the Supreme One, an evil grin came to his lipless and scared face.* I saw the death of a traitor! *Suddenly, he punched the small lizard creature in the gut and thrust his face in the direction of the Dread Lord, forcing his coming acidic vomit upon the Overlord's face.* I saw that death of the Overlord.

Thu Nov 25, 2010 10:42 pm by Chirpa

*With that Yomin died by the hands of treachery, but a new order would take over maybe in time a new one from his bloodline would take over.*

Tue Feb 15, 2011 9:09 am by Australis

*A high-ranking member of the priest caste walks into the citadel. He carries with him Yorik Krul's command villip, which he is taking to the Supreme Overlord.*

Tue Jun 07, 2011 6:36 am by Nem Yin

*A quick jaunt through the jungle ended with Nem's arrival at the Citadel. Upon the way, two Vong had emerged from their place of waiting and joined him. Both were garbed in the same black robeskin wrappings as the Intendant, and presented a somewhat similar physical stature.* *These were not the bulky warriors decked out in heavy crab armour, wielding amphistaffs and numerous projectile biots. These were scouts and assassins, the very best the Praetorite Vong had to offer. They had to be to have survived the war.*

*Nem nodded at them both, then slid a hand into his robes where he kept his sheathed coufee. His eyes gazed upwards at the Citadel, tracing its length far up into the sky.* *It was a remarkable piece of architecture for his people. Living buildings, a unique organism in which numerous smaller organisms of varied design could exist. He felt almost like a worm as he approached it, slithering his way into its colon.* *As they neared the front entrance, he spotted two guards standing watch over the main entrance. Both were clearly of the warrior caste judging by the way they were dressed and armed.*

*The Intendant grinned behind the concealing shadow of his robeskin cloak, practically biting into his gums as his eager anticipation got the better of him. He raised his right hand in a peaceful gesture as he and his two accomplices neared the main doors. As expected, the staffs in the guards hands stiffened and locked in an X shape, barring the path inside the Citadel.*

"Greetings friends." *Fools.* "We're here to speak with the High Prefect. Is he in?" *Dressed as they were, it was not entirely unlikely that they would have a meeting with the Prefect. They were Intendant's after all, Vong of the same caste. Though generally one as lowly as an Executor would not have direct contact with someone of such an elevated station.*

*The guards knew this and thus kept their staffs in place. One replied in an arrogant tone.* "Piss off, Praetorite. You think we didn't hear about what happened at the womb? Traitors are not welcome here."

*Nem bit his lip in fury, the verbal slight filling him with rage.* *Traitor? Traitor! By the gods, if anyone was a traitor to the Vong then it was these fools. He was doing what he had to in order to ensure the growth and continued longevity of the Praetorite, and thus the rest of the Vong in the process. True, the other domains would be rated considerably lower, but at least he was kind enough to let them live. If they were all this petulant of mouth and weak of mind, perhaps that was something he'd need to reconsider.*

"Such a shame." *He growled through gritted teeth, right before drawing his coufee from his robeskins with his left hand and hurling it towards the guard on the right. The warriors eyes blinked with confusion, until he tried to look down and realized he couldn't, as a rather sinister blade had pierced his throat and now lay impaled through his neck. He tried to speak, but a blood slick gurgle was all he could manage before falling back onto the ground and dying. The other guard suffered a similar fate as both of Nem's associates hurled their own coufees, taking the remaining warrior in both eyes.*

*Not being one to willingly loose the momentum, the Executor was already up the steps as the guard's staff fell. He caught it in both hands, momentarily struggling with it as it lost its rigidity and transformed into a hissing serpent. It snapped at Nem's face, coming an inch from his flesh. With quick hands he held the creature by the throat, urging it to become still less he suffocate it completely. After a few seconds it began to calm, relenting from its struggle and accepting its new fate. However, that fate was short lived. Another warrior could be seen approaching from deeper in the Citadel. The Vong roared as he raced full tilt towards Nem, who at this point had given his newly acquired staff the order to stiffen and hefted the straightened spear over his shoulder. He threw it in one mighty cast, sending the razor sharp tip straight at the warrior. It caught him in the face, slamming into his right eye socket and exploding out the back of his skull in a mess of bone fragments, black blood, and gray matter. The guard went down in a heap, staining the floor in a pool of warm death.*

*Bending down, the Intendant retrieved his coufee, then straightened back to a lethal stance. Jerking his head, he motioned for his associates to follow him deeper into the Citadel.*

Tue Jun 07, 2011 9:05 am by Nem Yin

*Blood dripped down the Citadel steps, seeping into the soil and poisoning it with putridity. Flies and other various scavenger organisms picked at the bodies that were strewn across yorik coral walkways and piled in heaps set to burn. This was the same scene faced all over the city surrounding the massive Citadel, as not long ago, the Praetorite struck out in Intendant fashion, slaying and murdering as they pleased. This was not some massive unfocused butchery conducted by the warriors or priests. This was a planned, tactically applied, intelligent strike against the very heart of Tur Yenagh.* *That it should appear so gore slicked and resplendent in a black bloody glaze was just a pleasant consequence.* *Among the dead were some of the Praetorite's own, without a doubt. Even unleashing their attack with the element of surprise, the city's defenders had been a worthy adversary. Despite this, they were no match for the Praetorite's expect application of precision tactics. The result was death on an immense scale the likes the living seed world had never witnessed.*

*Nem, who was now reaching the highest levels of the Citadel, was a bloody mess.* *His skill and agility had helped him to clear the way, taking out more foes than any of his accomplices, even combined. Yet he was still just a Vong with a coufee, born for silent stalking rather than direct combat.* *Blood seaped from numerous wounds across his body, though nothing severe enough to see him stopped. As he reached the main chamber at the top of the structure, his right leg came up and his booted foot struck the door, slamming it open and revealing the large chamber contained within.*

*Inside, numerous Vong garbed in robeskin attire as befitting members near the top of their castes, stared on in shock. Many looked on in hate, though there were a few stricken by fear.* *Not all of the Vong were as honour driven and courageous as the stories suggested.* *Nem entered the room, holding his bloodied coufee out in the open. Around his right armed coiled an amphistaff he had taken from one of the dead. It snarled and hissed around his wrist, venom dripping from its fangs down onto the floor near his feet. That knowing grin was still etched upon his features, revealing rows of dagger shaped teeth that filled his mouth.*

"There is nowhere to run now, worms. The revolution is at hand." *He said, spittle misting from his lips with every stressed syllable. A grim chortle sounded from his throat, soon transformed into a sinister cackle that assailed the ears of all present.*

*Behind Nem, a dozen Intendant assassins appeared. Like him, they were bloodied and hurt, though none of the fierceness had been lost in their eyes. Some held coufees in either hand, while others twirled amphistaffs and readied projectile biots. Slowly they began to approach, until the Executor held up a hand and motioned for them to hold. He took a step forwards, then pointed with his right arm towards the highest among the ranking politicians. His index finger extended and stabbed towards the Vong accusingly, highlighted by the serpent wrapped around his arm snapping its jaws, eliciting a hiss.*

"You will die by my hand." *He said, clenching his fist as though to exaggerate the claim.*

*It was important for Nem to be witnessed performing the deed. The eyes of the Praetorite were now upon him, and as such, he would be judged. Best to let them see him as a cold blooded murdering conqueror, as opposed to a arch villain that allowed others to do his dirty work. Through this he would earn their respect more than he already had.*

*As for the Prefect, he practically pissed himself at the display. Throwing up his arms in protest, he cried in a pathetic whiny voice.* "Wait! Think about what you are doing. We are the same, you and I. We are victims of the heathens and their abominations. They are the true enemy. We should be working together, not murdering our own kind. Show mercy and together we will scour the heathens from the stars."

*Scatter the heathens from the stars? Of all the ridiculous claims.* *Nem replied sarcastically.* "Yes, and I suppose the Gods would favor our victory as well? Bollocks." *He spat.* "You offer fallacy and foolish sentiment. We are not the same. You're a coward and fool, allowing the slow withering rot to consume our people from the inside out. The Praetorite is the cure, and I the shaper who will see it injected into our society. The stars are lost to us forever, but I'll settle for what I can have. This world...and your life."

*By now he was but a step away from the Prefect. As his speech completed, Nem reversed the coufee in his left hand and spun around clockwise. One full rotation was followed by a quick second, sending the serrated edge through the Prefect's throat and gut. When the Executor stopped, now partially crouched from his body's movements, he looked up at the Vong he had just sent to the afterlife. Blood spurted out from the wound in his neck, while his entrails poured out of the hole in his sliced up belly. Steaming Vong meat poured onto the floor, followed by the collapse of the Prefect. Nem, brought the coufee to his mouth and dragged the flat of the blade across his tongue. The man's blood tasted sweet to the Intendant, who now relished in the kill. He spat the contents of his mouth onto the corpse at his feet and motioned with his bloodied coufee towards his remaining soldiers.*

"On with it then. Kill the rest of them."

Wed Jun 08, 2011 7:37 am by Nem Yin

*There was much drunken debauchery and continued bloodletting after the Praetorite came into power. Warriors stumbled through the streets, vision blurry and hands gripping wine sacs, looking to engage in all sorts of joyous festivities. The screams and jeers could be heard even at the top of the Citadel, where the Executor looked down on the city below. His wounds had been attended to by the healers and a fresh set dark robeskins was brought to replace those tarnished in the fighting.* *It had been an exhilarating experience between the fighting and the enacting of a revolution. Only now as he came down off his battle high did he begin to understand the implication of his actions.* *Nem stared down at his belt, resting his left hand on the hilt of the coufee sheathed on his hip.*

*The blade had served him well. Ordinarily he would have no affection for such things, as one knife was easily enough replaced by another. Yet this blade had not only shed the blood of over a dozen Vong, it had slain the man who had seen to the detriment of their society. That deserved some recognition as least. In light of its exemplary service, he bestowed upon the coufee a name. Shem-Sho, more loosely translated, Blood Scourge.*

*He withdrew the blade and took a moment to simply observe it. It was perfectly balanced, razor sharp, and sinister in appearance.* *The razor tip could easily pierce flesh, while the serrated edge would rip open wounds as it was pulled out.* *In his mind he swore he could hear it whispering to him, urging him to kill and to cut with heedless abandonment. He did not, however. Instead he twirled the blade in his hand, spinning it along his palm for eight full rotations, then slammed it into the sheath on his hip. There is would stay until he had need of it again.*

*Back to the matters at hand, Nem turned about and regarded those that now shared the main audience chamber with him. There were warriors and shapers present in limited number, though the most numerous caste present was his own.* *Even next to the warriors that were decked out in full crab plate, the Intendants appeared imposing. They might not be as bulky or riddled with protruding spines, but they did possess a sort of lethal grace and fierce aura that made it clear to all that these were not Vong to mess with. He often wondered if that was how others saw him. Was he a honed coufee primed for use? He certainly felt that way at the moment.*

*He raised his arms, drawing the groups attention while simultaneously calling for silence. All eyes locked on him, fixating fiendish hungry stares upon his now opulently attired self. Nem returned those stares with one of his own, strong and full of the bitterness that had started this whole thing. In a smooth, almost melodic tone, he addressed those present.*

"The Praetorite has taken control. Through cunning and swiftness, we have removed the fools from their position of authority and in the process set ourselves free. This Citadel and all that surrounds it is ours. Soon, the entire planet will be under our control as well. Even now, our brothers and sisters are preparing to expand our influence of reach, thanks to the most recent acquisition of the shipwomb. In time, the entire system will be under our sway." *He paused, allowing the information to settle in.* "However, in the meantime we can not allow our grip on the hilt to slip. That what we have taken can also be taken away in the same manner if we are not careful. We must remain vigilant, lest our foes feed on our complacency."

*Nem folded his arms behind his back, clasping either wrist with his hands. One foot forwards was soon followed by a second as he began to pace back and forth. He did this several times before releasing his right arm and raising it up beside his head. The index digit of his hand extended upwards, exclaiming his point further.*

"Kill any warriors that still remain. They are too ill stricken by foolish honour to allow themselves to be inducted into the Praetorite. Those that might be swayed are weak and corruptible, not the sort of Vong we wish to have join us. Pick from the castes youth and see that they are trained in the usual manner, only ensure that their loyalty remains to the Praetorite alone. The shapers will be allowed to live if they will swear their loyalty to our organization. It would be too costly to relearn their trade. The Intendants as you already know, serve the Praetorite, and as such will oversee the entire transition." *He stopped, knowing that there was one caste as yet unmentioned.* "As for the priests, find me one of keen intelligence who is not fooled by his own dogmatic fallacy. There must be one among them with a mind that is his own. The rest you may kill. We have no further use for them."

*The Executor then turned towards the mass of onlookers and bowed his head. His eyes closed, hands clenched, and a rippling shudder was sent through his entire body. A snarling hiss sounded from inside his robeskin cloak. Then, slithering their way out, two amphistaffs emerged from the lengths of his sleeves. There was one on either arm, both opened mouthed with fangs full of dripping venom. Nem extended his arms towards the group, his twin serpents snapping their jaws towards them with hungry excitement. As he opened his eyes, a look of utter contempt was present upon his face. The bitterness that coiled around his heart like a amphistaff was now present for all to see. When he spoke, it was will a voice full of command and ire.*

"This is a new day. One that will be remembered in our ever-long history. The slaying of the weak and corruptible, followed by the rise of the Praetorite! Go now and see these things done. Duty and honour."

*The crowd repeated the parting phrase, then dispersed as they went off to perform the actions asked of them. When the room was cleared, Nem spun around and once more regarded the view of the city below. His lip curled into a look of disdain, then softened slightly as his fatigue set in. He moved to the large seat at the head of the room and lowered himself into it, slumping down as he let out a sigh. A hand came to his head, resting its palm on his frontal lobe as his eyes drifted down towards the floor. There he sat for a full minute before a remaining attendant approached him. The pathetic Vong spoke in a cowed fashion.* "That seat fits you well, Executor."

*Nem looked up, mild surprise upon his features. He then stared down at the piece of furniture upon which he now found himself seated. His lips parted in a circular fashion, followed by the raising of both brows as shock took hold of him.* *He had been too tired to realize that is was the former Supreme Overlord's chair in which he had chosen to rest his body.* *Quickly he pushed off, rising back to his feet despite the protestation of his aching body. Shock turned to anger, his face becoming a mask of it. He strode from the chamber, now full of forced vigor and emotionally turmoil. Only did he stop when he reached the archway leading out of the chamber. Turning his head over his shoulder, he spoke to the Attendant.*

"Burn it." *And then he departed.*

Thu Jun 16, 2011 6:48 pm by Nem Yin

*At the top of the Citadel, seated cross-legged near the balcony that overlooked the city, was a Vong dressed in a long black robeskin cloak. Though the hood was pulled over his head, it did not obscure his vision. Both his mqaaq'it implants were focused on the city stretched out below. Occasionally those two orbs would change colour, suggesting that the man was deep in thought. He was in fact.* *How long had it been since the Praetorite took control? Little more than a month, perhaps a little longer still. He hadn't been keeping count of the days. The changes that had been made though, well, those he had been monitoring with careful attention.* *Even as far as the Citadel's top was to the yorik streets below, he could see the warriors marching, the intendants stalking, and the shapers...well, shaping. Society was prospering and it was no doubt a result of the Praetorite's efforts.*

*His lips curled upwards, forming a cruel smile that split his face from ear to ear. An amphistaff slithered over his shoulders, partially coiled around one arm, and now seeking food from his pouch. He took the serpent in two bare hands and placed it on the ground, allowing it to free roam through the room as it pleased. Then he rose to his feet, rising in one smooth graceful motion. His posture suggested an athletic build, though it was impossible to tell beneath the concealing nature of his attire.* *The Vong's name? Shendor Yin, a proud member of Domain Yin and blood brother of the domain's current head. With Nem gone the responsibility for their domain fell on his shoulders. His brother checked in regularly enough, but his presence was needed more than he knew. It had been enough to give Shendor reason to rise above his former station and take charge where he was needed most.*

*Next his attention turned towards the other occupants in the room. One wouldn't see them at first, but they were there. Wearing the Cloak of Nuun were a dozen newly christened Hunters, chosen from among the ranks of Domain Yin to serve as the current overseers personal bodyguard.* *Shendor had wanted to send them to Nem, who was no doubt having his fair share of trouble out in infidel space; however, his brother refused the offer. Apparently he had found other arrangements that would see him suitably surrounded by warriors. What exactly that entailed, Shendor could not say, but he trusted Nem not to be reckless.* *The Hunters stood unmoving, completely invisible to the naked eye as the layer of second skin that covered their bodies created a perfect image of the space around them. It was like looking through glass. Each of the elite warriors was armed with the traditional weapon of Domain Yin, a single coufee.* *Hardly intimidating at first glance, especially when compared to the much more prevalent amphistaffs, but ultimately deadly in their hands.*

*When his observations were completed, he returned to what he had been doing just prior to his reflective break. Projected from a viewspider on his desk, a layout of the world brain could be seen. The holographic projection essentially showed the unoccupied well and numerous vacated chambers surrounding it.* *Thanks to the scouts they were able to patch into the spy bug network already in place.* *He mulled over the footage, uncertain of his next course of action.* *It would be wise to eventually set up a permanent garrison at the well, but at the moment it didn't strike him as necessary. Few beings knew it was even there, and even if they had, it would take an entire domains worth of individuals to make use of it in any meaningful way. Until such a time as it was actually needed, it could stand to remain undisturbed. They had more important things to attend with at the moment anyways.*

Sun Jun 19, 2011 5:08 pm by Nem Yin

*Footsteps echoed off the yorik coral floor as a lean figure approached Shendor, who currently had his attention focused on the observation window of the Citadel's main chamber. He looked almost noble with his long black cape swaying from his shoulders, hands pressed to his hips, and head bowed in quiet reflection. Turning around, he focused his mqaaq'it on the nearing Vong. It was a Shaper, one of the newly absorbed members of Domain Yim, not to be mistaken with Domain Yin of the Intendant caste. Clad in the usual crimson attire of a shaper, the female Vong presented a mildly attractive figure. Her eye sacks were a startling blue, in contrast to the dark purple of his own. He spread his lips to speak, then paused, pursing his lips until the woman took the cue and stopped in front of him. She bowed slightly, then smiled in a manner he found most pleasant.*

"Greetings, your excellency." *She said in a lusty tone.*

"Greetings, yourself." *He replied.* "Though you may drop the title. Nem would never break protocol, but I prefer an informal conversation when possible. I have found it is better suited to breeding honesty."

"I see. And you wish me to be honest then, yes?"

*His head inclined and his jaw tightened.* "Yes."

"Then I would advise you against this course of action. Repeating Shimrra's heresy will do more harm than good." *There was clear concern in her tone now. He sympathized, but would not be persuaded by it.*

"That is entirely possible, yet I would still have you make the attempt regardless. Nem wants his Jeedai hunters. You will facilitate the process."

*And the truth comes out. About a week prior during one of Nem's check ins via villip, he had asked Shendor to see to the creation of thirty Slayers. Though the war had seen them widely untested, the Intendant had faith in their combat potential. More so, he made it clear that they would be needed in the near future. The reborn Praetorite had no direct quarrel with the Jedi, not like the Vong Remnant had. But they would be prepared for an eventual confrontation now that the head of Domain Yin was engaged in acts of piracy. At this current point in time, directly engaging a Jedi was the equivalent of suicide. That needed to be remedied.*

*Shendor placed an arm around the Shaper, drawing her near to his breast as he led them towards the observation window. With his free arm he motioned towards the city, twisting his wrist and embracing all with a clenched fist.*

"Times are changing. We must evolve with them or run the risk of complacency. What you call heresy, I call our hope of survival. I can rally our people, train our warriors, and make them the very best that any Vong could hope for. But I can't transform them into the monsters we require. To breed a race better than we are, that takes more than training and words of faith. You have the gift, the intelligence, and the skill to see it done. Forget these words of heresy. They are meaningless when compared to that which we will gain."

*His words were full of passion, enough so to make a dent on the woman's concerns.* "When you say these things, you truly mean them, don't you? Very well, I will do as you have asked." *She paused.* "Would you like to see him?"

"See who?" *Asked Shendor. His brow rose in confusion.*

"The first of the new race." *She said, grinning.* "You didn't think I spent this whole week battling my conscience, did you? I have prepared one. He waits outside even as we speak."

*One already? Well, she certainly worked fast. Then again, the knowledge of past attempts was already available. It would not be overly hard to replicate, though obviously he wanted improvements over the original batch.* *He brought his hands together, interlocking his fingers and allowing his lips to curl into a sinister smile.*

"Bring him in."

Mon Jun 20, 2011 7:25 am by Nem Yin

*The doors to the main chamber parted and a short and stocky black skinned creature entered. At first Shendor thought the being was wearing some sort of cloaker, but under closer inspection, he realized that the the black glossy coating was actually its skin. Garbed as the thing was in its robeskin loin cloth, its impressive physique was available for all to see. Even so, the Intendant was not overly impressed.* *He had seen warriors with the same sort of physique before, and most of them were a lot taller. What could the short black skinned creature offer that one of his own could not?* *His teeth clenched tightly while his fist began to shake.*

"What is this?" *He spat, regarding the creature.* "I asked you for a monster, not a short man!"

*Mira Yim scowled, her pale gray skin seeming to grow a deeper shade as she heard the Intendant insult her work. Folding her arms across her chest, she glared at Shendor furiously, then responded with the vehemence of a harpy.*

"Do not seek to insult that which you do not understand. Test him then, if you are so bold. Allow the Slayer to prove its worth in combat."

"Very well." *He growled back.* "I will indeed."

*Uncoiling his amphistaff, the Executor gave his serpent a squeeze and caused it to turn rigid. He twirled it about in his hands, acclimatizing himself to the weight as much as warming up his muscles. The Slayer however remained unmoving. Even as Shendor moved towards it, weapon in hand against a seemingly unarmed opponent, the black skinned Vong was as silent as stone. Snarling, the Intendant leaped forwards, swinging his staff horizontally at neck level and trying to take the Slayer's head off in the process. Almost faster than he could follow, the creature bent its knees and ducked below the blow. It sprang into a roll and darted past the Intendant, who tried to swing at the Vong as he turned, but found nothing but air.*

*A few yards away, the Slayer rose to its feet and let out an exhalation of breath. It twisted its wrists, which was followed by four long fighting claws emerging from above the knuckles on either hand. Black blood oozed off the foot long claws, causing them to glisten further under the lambent light of the chamber. Shendor was slightly taken back, not expecting the combat implants. Surprised soon turned into anger, and he lunged for the Slayer anew. This time he stabbed his amphistaff forwards like a spear, hoping to plunge it into the Slayers chest. Again, moving almost too fast for the Intendant's mqaaq'it to follow, the creature turned aside. The staff passed by his chest harmlessly. Then, before Shendor could pull it back, the Vong attacked. Bringing up his fighting claws on either side of the staff, he scissored with his arms, bring his claws down on either side of the rigid serpent. Venom and polyp meat fell to the floor as the claws passed right through the blade, disarming the Executor.*

*Shendor stumbled back, dropping the bleeding staff onto the floor and scrabbling at his hip for the coufee blade sheathed there. The black skinned Vong turned to face him, grinning wickedly from ear to ear. Its eyes glowed a brilliant crimson, like those of a demon. Yorik coral spines rose from its body, splitting its flesh in places only to have the skin seal over the holes as if they had never been there. Despite realizing the mistake he had made in challenging the creature, the Intendant wasn't out of fire yet. He twirled the coufee in his hand, gripping the bladed tip, then hurled it through the air. Forcefully it struck the Slayer in the shoulder, imbedding itself deep in the creatures flesh. Shendor grinned as the Vong inspected the knife planted in its muscle. Though that grin soon faded when the Slayer yanked out the coufee, and the wound created by the blade began to heal right before his very eyes.*

"Impossible!" *He cried, only to have the Slayer's attention return to him again. Without mercy or remorse, the black skinned Vong advanced on Shendor, pouncing on him like a bissop taking down its prey. It wrapped both hands around the Intendant, driving its spines into him as it performed a torturous bear hug. The Executor let out a pained roar, fighting the Slayer's grip. But its arms were like bars of iron, and its grip was as strong as steel. Spots danced across his vision as the air was forced out of him. Then, when he was ready to join his ancestors in the afterlife, a voice called out.* "Release him." *And like that, the Slayer let go of the Intendant and retracted its spines. Shendor fell to the floor, coughing and bleeding from a variety of puncture wounds. The Shaper crossed the floor, bending down to inspect the Intendant.*

"You see now?" *She asked.*

"Yes." *He curtly replied.* "You have made the monster that I have asked. The next step in the evolution of our people. Make me more like this one. It is perfect."

"No." *She shook her head.* "But they will be."

Sat Jul 02, 2011 7:53 am by Nem Yin

*It had taken damn near a month, but finally the day came where the Shaper, Mira Yim, was in a position to show off the results of her work to the Executor in charge. Shendor was waiting patiently in the main audience chamber, staring out the transparasteel view port towards the city below when the woman arrived. He barely paid her notice, keeping his mqaaq'it firmly focused on the yorik coral ziggarauts rising in the distance.* *Construction had been occurring planet wide thanks to the Praetorite's push for development and growth. The population was up, with each and every caste seeming to be bursting at the limits with newborn. It was only in the isolation offered by the Unknown Regions that this sort of prosperity could continue unperturbed with such regularity. No one, save for a recent Vong fleet that just arrived out of darkspace, had passed through the system in some time. Which was good, meaning that the system they had chosen to remain in was one mostly uninhabited, and therefore, undisturbed.*

*Shendor eventually turned around after a few minutes of feeling Mira's eyes drill into the back of him. He looked on her slim and pretty form, feeling a mild degree of arousal, despite the difference in caste.* *He could never be allowed to have her, but that didn't stop him from wanting to throw her to the yorik coral floor and ravish her.* *His mqaaq'it glowed blue, displaying his calm and pleasant mood. She bowed to him, more out of ceremony than actually thinking it a necessity.* *The Executor had shown himself to be a great deal less formal than his brother, Nem. He even allowed Mira to call him by his first name, surprisingly enough.*

*She spoke in her usually melodic manner, delighting Shendor's pointed ears with her seductive voice.* "My work has reached completion, just as you have asked." *She was of course referring to the slayers that the Intendant had requested she shape. Vong a breed apart, better than the average stock variety. Their future, should it be willed so.* *The Intendant looked on her, nodding his head approvingly.*

"I wish to see them." *His face was as still as granite.* *The last time he had seen one of Mira's creations, things hadn't quite gone so well for him. He had tested her firstborn slayer in open combat, only to find himself overwhelmed and very nearly mortally wounded. If not for the shaper's timely intervention, he was certain the black skinned Vong would have killed him.*

*Mira pursed her lips, then slowly, nodded her head. With a clap of her six fingered hands, she motioned towards the doors leading into the audience chamber. The two warriors standing guard proceeded to part the entrance, allowing those waiting outside to proudly stride in. Thirty in total, the slayers were a presence to be reckoned with. Like the original, their skin was black, coated in a layer of natural armour that was bonded to their flesh. None of them carried visible weapons, though Shendor was certain that each possessed a vast array of combat implants.* *The slayer he had fought was armed with fighting claws and talons, both of which were regularly hidden beneath the skin.* *He strode past the line formed, noting the mixed heraldry of warrior and priest scarring. Yet when he looked closely, he noticed something present in addition to this. Tattooed on their skulls was the emblem of the Intendant caste. He looked back to Mira, his face visibly confused.*

*Seeing this, she responded.* "It seemed only appropriate, given the political stance of the Praetorite. Do you approve?"

"I do." *He replied with a voice full of conviction, and perhaps, awe.*

*He continued to observe for the next few minutes, looking for any defects or the presence of something that might call their loyalty and ability into question. Alas, he could find nothing. They were perfect, soon to be the first among the true Praetorite Guard.* *He did not acknowledge those already operating out in the field under that title. Soon they would have to relinquish the name in place of another.* *When his needs and questions were fully satisfied, Shendor let out a hardy laugh and took the shaper into his arms, swinging her about in a full circle. His mqaaq'it glowed a vibrant and happy yellow, while his lips split wide to reveal a long and overjoyed smile.*

"Well done, my dear. Well done. Continue your experiments, but know that I want another forty five just like these right here. Executor Kar Yin is already seeing to the preparations for their ships, which may or may not already have been grown. I'll contact him later to confirm. For now, know that you have pleased me."

*Mira flushed, her eye sacks about as deeply blue as they could possibly be.* "I aim to do so, Shendor."

*The slayers were then led out and assigned to various vessels among the growing Praetorite naval forces. Yorik-trema would see them delivered shortly. Elsewhere, Intendants in charge of coordinating the planetary army were tasked with incorporating the coming slayers into their hierarchy.* *Few would be happy with their inclusion, but there was no denying their abilities. They were, in the eyes of the head Intendant, perfection made flesh.*

Sun Oct 09, 2011 6:02 am by Nem Yin

*Positioned on a thorn seat in the great audience chamber, Shendor was deep in reflection. His chin rest on his upturned arm, while his lips pursed occasionally due to troubled thoughts.* *It had been some time since he had heard word from the head of his Domain. He knew well enough that Nem did not like to be disturbed while away on a mission, but this was beginning to get ridiculous. What could the bloody executor be doing that required him to not report in to the rest of the Praetorite council? Mind you, his presence was not necessarily required. After the coup and resulting uprising, things had stabilized to a manageable point. There was little the prefect could not accomplish on his own, especially with the continued assistance of Kar and Shareed. The trio practically ran the entire seed world themselves, with Kar running the Shipwomb, Shareed supervising the people, and Shendor performing the required bureaucratic services.* *He let out a sigh.*

*It was all awfully boring, really. Part of him had known it would be when he originally accepted the position, but another part of him clung heavily to the inspiring words of his Domain head. That damnable Intendant had filled him with the proper motivational words, set him to the task, then left him to run it on his own. He supposed he should be happy in his fortunate circumstances, but the way he felt was just...blah.*

*Flicking his mqaaq'it to his lap, Shendor held up the reports given to him by one of his orderlies. He had already read them over several times, but with today being as slow as it was, he had little else to do what read them again.* *A few interesting tid-bits were offered. A Ro'ik chuun m'arh neared completion in the Shipwomb. Clearly Kar had been diligent in his efforts, and no doubt had put those recently acquired slaves to good use. The bugs had proven their usefulness ten fold already. As for the ship, that was another point of frustration. Nem was the one who had asked for it, yet he was not even around to oversee its growth. If he planned on using it as his command vessel, then really, he should be around to see to its shaping in a way that he required it to be. Instead the Shapers were left to guesstimate what add-ons it might require.*

*Shaking his head, he continued reading the reports.* *The mining operation in the Cron Drift was going according to plan. Skellion had apparently encountered infidel ships, though they did not appear to be hostile. Perhaps cohabitation was a possibility. He did not particularly care for the idea, but if it would allow them to mine unhindered, it would be a suitable enough arrangement. They could always turn on the infidels at a later time anyways. The other mining operation of note, the one led by Alith into the Roche Asteroid fields, had apparently hit a snag. Word had just reached Tur Yenagh by way of villip that the Praetorite Command had come into contact with potentially hostile infidel forces. At the moment they were engaged in a tactical dance with them, which was bound to end in a brutal space battle. It sounded like the young Commander could use reinforcements, but unfortunately there were none to give.* *And further down the report he went.* *Operatives on Nar Shaddaa and Mandalore had both run into a snag at the moment, though they were actively seeking contacts and would report in at a later time. The subjugation of the killiks was proceeding as planned, which was well given that the Praetorite had devoted five whole yammosks to the job, making it an extremely expensive endeavor. Scouts found a new system within the Unknown Regions and were in the process of mapping it, as well as investigating one of its inhabitable planets. Well, semi-inhabitable. The scout had made the world sound like a giant ball of ice.*

*Finishing his reading, he signed a few requests and sent them off with his aides.* *Everyone was busy performing exciting roles and he was stuck doing the paper work. You're right, that is blah.*

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