The Kyn-Gospel Incident
Dramatis Personae:
Lt. Rylar, Imperial Diplomatic Service
Three Kyn (younger male, middle-aged male, older female)
Eskenah, of the Tenebrous Gospel
Blackguards
Tenebrous Gospel preachers
Vysberg Civitas (city police)
Vysberg Civitas Immediate Response Team (CIR) under Sgt. Tor MkNol
It is a warm day toward the end of the Erinian summer. Off in the valleys, farmers from Tornilan, Corq, and the other vysint counties are readying their crops for the last of the season's harvests. Off in the capital city of Vysberg however, things are more or less the same: businessmen rushing to and fro, dignitaries shuffling about, and tour groups of aliens from all over the galaxy being given strange, but generally welcoming glances.
Some tour groups even make it as far west into the city as the Diplomatic Quarter. Though galactic diplomacy was something of a new thing in Erinian history, this row of city streets certainly was not. The streets had been cleaned and the sidewalks widened to keep with the city’s new planning theme, but the buildings themselves, mostly duracrete facades cut into pleasing shapes and sloped overhangs, had been around for nearly a century.
A group of Kyn, dignitaries from the southern heartlands and very much newcomers, wander in and among the crowds and through the streets, in awe of all they see.
Meanwhile, Lieutenant Rylar sighs, looking over his datapad as he walks, a discrete, and easily removable, Imperial insignia on what otherwise might be considered plain clothes, making his way through the diplomatic quarter.
"Repent, and fall into the Emperor's open arms! Repent, I say, and He might show you mercy!" ... Dressed in pure back robes marked by crimson wings, Eskenah preaches at the top of her lungs. Her voice carries and echoes between the buildings of the sector. She walks up to the various pedestrians, waving her arms animatedly. Nearby, many other similarly robed figures shout similar warnings.
Rylar sighs again as he hears the distant chant but is inwardly grateful for his datapad which rather adeptly hides his face as he winds his way through the streets.
Though they had been distracted by a colorful holo-advert for some shipping agency depicting a space ship, a scantily clad Twi'lek, and the word "adventure" translated into several languages, the Darkspeakers' chanting catches the ears of the group of Kyn. One man with light olive skin and dark, plaited hair shaved in a flat, braided stripe taps the shoulders of his compatriots and gestures at the preaching, flailing Eskenah. The other two pry themselves away from the neon temptress and her riches and just sort of look at the group, curious as to the noise they were making. They murmur complacently at each other in Kyn'a.
Eskenah points a trembling finger at the curious Kyn. "You! Have you heard His word? Have you yet committed your life to His glory--He who rules worlds, and burns them with His terrible gaze?" Her green eyes are wide, wild. She stands within feet of him, her index finger a hair's breadth from his nose.
The Kyn smacks Eskenah's hand away from his face and steps back instinctively, mostly from surprise. He shoots a look of confusion over his shoulder at his brethren. One shrugs, but the other urges him on, smirking. The first Kyn purses his lips and studies Eskenah. He seems...uneasy around her. He begins, in broken basic, "...Who...Who is..." He frowns, frustrated, but her perseveres. "This is your lord?"
Rylar turns the corner, looks up at the embassy... and blinks, recognizing the Gospel's outfit and what can only be Kyn robes... and very silently curses under his breath as he moves towards the gathering.
Eskenah wraps her hand around her wrist, rubbing it. Two armored figures, bearing the same insignia as Eskenah but not dressed in robes, step forward in response to the Kyn's motion, but Eskenah waves them away. She looks into the eyes of the Kyn, unblinking, and answers. "He is the Lord of All, the Head of the Empire, the Eternal, the Inscrutable." She pauses, then adds, "The universe is His, and all the worlds beyond."
The first Kyn's compatriots seem to be greatly amused at their friend's discomfort, but their mood lessens slightly as they notice the two armed men approach. However, they seem to be calmed after they see them waved off. The first Kyn, blinks at Eskenah. "Ahhh, your Roca,” the Kyn suggests in his tongue. “No Roca rules the hefon," he says, glancing up at the sky. "All is O'va." The Kyn seems amused at the notion.
Eskenah repeats, "Hefon." She frowns. "Hefon. He-fon." She looks up, "Hehhh-von...." Her eyes go wide, and she waves her arms at the sky. "No, you are mistaken. He is lord of the heavens as well. Of the many heavens.... And the many earths." She stomps a foot on the ground. "His move is inexorable. And He demands the service of all, the faithful and the unfaithful."
Looking back at the Kyn, Eskenah intones, "Those who have ears will hear."
Rylar slowly approaches the group, all smiles. "...my lord, honorable Kyn, is there something I can do to help here?"
The other Kyn wear smiles as well, but they begin to droop steadily as if they don't know whether to continue laughing. One calls out to the first Kyn, questioning. He shrugs, then glances at Rylar as he approaches. "I think this..." He looks at her, curious, then back at Rylar. "Lord...she is uncorrect. Maybe..." He taps his head, leaving his sentence unfinished.
Eskenah pauses, glancing briefly at Rylar before looking back to the Kyn. "Uncorrect...?" A moment of silence stretches. "My Darkspeakers speak truth." She folds her arms. "Your eyes are yet unopened, and thus you walk blind."
The Kyn blinks, listening. He opens his mouth to speak, but no words come. He looks at Rylar. "You are...her handler?" He asks, searching for words.
Rylar chuckles nervously, still trying to smile. "...no, no, I am Ambassador Quarasha's aide..."
At the mention of “Quarasha,” the mood among the Kyn changed immediately and earns intense, glowering frowns from each Kyn. His friends, their question yet unanswered, try again. The first Kyn tosses back an answer, not breaking eyecontact with Rylar. One of the Kyn spits on the ground.
Eskenah keeps her arms folded. "The Emperor can be forgiving, and His servants are long-suffering. You must be ignorant, but this is why we speak. Again, I say that we bring the Truth to..." Her eyes roam up and down at the Kyn, "Half-savages like you. At least you are not visibly alien."
The first Kyn gazes at Eskenah as she speaks. Most of her words go right over his head, but he -does- perceive "half-savages" and its direction at himself and his allies. His fists ball, perhaps unconsciously, as he shoots back what must be a scathing remark in very angrily spoken Kyn'a. This catches his friends' attention immediately. They speak no basic at all and are confused. Rylar's eyes widen. "...my lord, I think I just remembered an extremely urgent matter I need your assistance with! Right now! Shall we go inside?"
Eskenah looks to Rylar, clearly irritated. "What is it? I am preaching," she says as she walks toward him.
Rylar hesitates. "...it involves sensitive imperial intelligence, my lord, best not discuss it outside?"
Rylar's attempts to intercede on behalf of Eskenah are not taken well by the Kyn. The younger man glowers at him. "You think we are savages like your lord?!" He asks, pushing him. The other two glare daggers at Eskenah.
Eskenah raises her voice and steps toward toward the first Kyn, ignoring Rylar's mumbling, "Might I -remind you- that we are representatives of the mighty Empire..." Her arms remain folded, knuckles white, "And that actions against such representatives are counted as actions against the Empire, which is an extension of the Emperor Himself..." Her gaze moves fiercely among the three Kyn.
Rylar stumbles a few steps, but recovers, facing the Kyn, his words coming out in a rush, as though trying to confuse the non-native speaker. "Oh, you misunderstand, Lord Quarasha is my lord, Darth Eskenath is a different one, but the term 'My Lord' is still used, simply out of respect, merely that effort is made to differentiate 'my lord' from 'My Lord', unless the lord outranks your Lord, which just brings the whole thing into confusion!"
Rylar turns to Eskenah, taking a breath. "I took no offense, my lord, and we
really must be going!"
The other Kyn, sufficiently confused yet no less angry, snarls and pushes Rylar back once he approaches. "Our quarrel is with this one! Go back to your small lord!" The older Kyn woman intercepts Eskenah and steps right up to her face. She is 100% not enjoying herself.
Instinctively, Eskenah sends out a Force push as the woman walks close to her. The two armored figures step up behind Eskenah.
Rylar stumbles back again, but quickly rushes forward. "Stop! Let's all just... leave things be!"
The Kyn woman is pushed back several steps. She bares her teeth at Eskenah and returns the push with a much stronger one. The first Kyn, surprised by the sudden inequality in pressure, breaks off from Rylar and turns, confused.
Eskenah is thrown back, knocked against the two figures behind her. They help her to her feet. Her eyes are blazing. "Savages! Unenlightened! Do you not know that the Gospel is the greatest gift that can be bestowed on you?" The figures engage lightsabers, brilliant red, and Eskenah waves them off again. She spins toward Rylar, "And what in the Emperor's Dark Name are you doing?" A small crowd of the hooded preachers are now starting to gather around the group.
"I'm a diplomat! I'm being diplomatic!" He looks at the Kyn, a panicked look on his face. "This is an Imperial embassy, and as a representative of the Empire I am asking you to leave!"
The increasingly large group of random passersby that had been accumulating around the outskirts of the group begins to flee wildly in every direction as Eskenah’s Blackguards brandish their lightsabers, earning several startled screams. A group of office workers in the building across the way have begun to watch the scene from the relative security of their second floor office.
Eskenah waves her arms, trying to contain the situation. "Blackguards, sabers off!" She turns her head back and forth, watching the fleeing folk from beyond the gap in the crowd of darkspeakers and native Erinians. "They do not know what they do! They are ignorant of His blessings!" At this, she sends another look at the three Kyn.
The three Kyn immediately produce strange proto-lightsabers from their robes and engage them, each blade a searing white. The woman has her eyes locked on Eskenah, but the other Kyn are much more concerned with the encircling acolytes.
By now, the commotion amidst the heart of the second most politically sensitive district on the planet has attracted the attention of several armed Erinian Civitas officers, the city police.
The Blackguards keep their sabers on, now held high in an aggressive opening stance. Eskenah studies the proto-lightsabers, and the Kyn-woman. She folds her arms. The darkspeakers draw close, murmuring. A few grip saber hilts of their own.
"...the heretics!
They are like grass
that the flames consume.
Thus the Emperor will stand in judgment
and destroy the assembly of the blasphemous."
Rylar mutters another curse under his breath, but faces the Kyn, arms outstretched wide. "...violence is not needed here, we are here in peace, none here think of you as savage in any way..." he says, forgetting that not everyone understands what he's saying, but might understand the words...
Suddenly, officers of the Vysberg Civitas, the city police, in their gray, double breasted uniforms with sapphire piping approach the group with their hands on their side-arms. The one in the middle, a sergeant by the three diagonal stripes on his cuff, steps forward and gruffly pushes past one of the enclosing acolytes sending him tumbling off balance.
"Alright, alright! What's th'-fethin'- meanin' a'this!" The older Kyn man immediately turns around, seeing the flash of robe from his periphery.
Eskenah is pointing again, her finger trembling, at the Kyn-woman. "Yes, you are angry. Don't you know that anger is also a gift of the Emperor? That the Force itself -bends- under His control??"
One Blackguard is now pointing his saber at the woman, while the other makes a probing trial slash at the Civitas sergeant. The darkspeakers appear to be chanting in a low hum. In her focus, Eskenah steps on Rylar's foot as she walks forward.
The younger Kyn levels his proto-saber at the acolytes in front of them, trying to keep them at bay. The older woman is fiercely gritting her teeth.
Confronted with a saber in his face, the Civitas officer curses in surprise and immediately backs off. The older woman is yelling something back at Eskenah in the angriest inflection of Kyn'a that Rylar has ever heard.
Rylar looks over at the sergeant. "...religious debate, officer. Could you get these honorable Kyn to depa- ow!" he says, as his foot gets stepped on and he stumbles away from Eskenah.
As Rylar speaks, the Kyn near the officer lashes out at the Blackguard's trial swing, less to protect the hastily retreating Civitas sergeant and more as a misinterpretation of the Blackguard's intent. Their glancing sabers crisp the air with a hiss.
The Blackguard engages the Kyn full on, red saber flashing and humming. Eskenah frowns with disgust, and turns with intent to walk into the crowd of darkspeakers, whose chanting has become louder, full of low pitched voices that repeat the same words over and over again. The other Blackguard covers Eskenah's back as she turns.
The Kyn who has unwittingly entered into a lightsaber duel with an Imperial Blackguard is dangerously close to being overpowered. His less-than-athletic demeanor and unsteadiness with the blade suggests a life of council and ruling, not combat. The old woman comes to his aid and levels a powerful Force shriek at the Blackguard. The younger Kyn, standing firm but clearly terrified, is unsure what to do.
Rylar looks for a moment like he's going to force his way between the pair, a heroic attempt to bring the violence to an end by virtue of a human shield......... then remembers that both sides would probably just kill him for getting in the way, and stays put. "Officers, remove the Kyn from these premises!"
The Civitas sergeant leers at Rylar as if the diplomat had just sprouted eats, all while hastily yelling into a shoulder-comm. Elsewhere in the city, sirens are heard.
From the gathered crowd of darkspeakers, Eskenah speaks, "Tomin, Harrion, disengage.
Clearly, the Emperor's word will not be heard here today by the hard of heart." The chanting darkspeakers crowd around her as they begin to move toward the embassy.
Tomin, who is engaging the middle-aged Kyn, is briefly distracted by the instruction, and momentarily overwhelmed by the Kyn-woman's shriek. A white saber slices across the man's chestguard.
The middle aged Kyn blinks, mouth agape as the Blackguard goes down. The woman immediately turns, expecting oncoming enemies, but halts as she sees the Imperials leave for the embassy. She disengages her saber and immediately drops to her knees. She enters some kind of Force trance, aimed at the downed Blackguard, apparently trying to sense the extent of his injury. The young man disengages his saber and immediately goes to calm the middle-aged man. He has dropped his saber in terror and is hyperventilating as the younger Kyn tries in vain to reach him.
"Officers, do your job!" Rylar yells, mouth agape as his fellow Imperial falls.
Rylar is handily ignored by the sergeant. He waves one of his men over to help with the Blackguard. A matte-white armored transport rounds the corner and comes to a halt just outside of the embassy. Several men, much more heavily armed but sporting the same Civitas colors – the Civitas Immediate Response (CIR) - approach the group in a V formation. One of the heavily armed men carrying some kind of field pack breaks from his fellows and goes over to help the downed Imperial.
Harrion growls, watching the downed Tomin. He slashes the air dangerously close to by-standers. The slash halts the approaching file of CIR officers with their rifles all trained on him, but none of them fire. The CIR medic pushes himself out of the way of the angry Sith.
With a quick dash, the bulky Blackguard Harrion scoops Tomin up and retreats toward the darkspeakers.
The armored Civitas troopers immediately raise their rifles at the bulky Harrion, but decide better of attempting an arrest. The keep their weapons trained on him as he eventually disappears into the embassy.
Rylar, red-faced, goes over to leader of the CIR troops. "I want that man arrested!" He points at the middle aged Kyn that made the fateful blow.
The armored troopers go about securing the area, forcefully directing the civilian passersby to leave the area until it is safe. The sergeant confers with his uniformed counterpart. He nods, then leaves to direct traffic. The armored CIR officer walks over to Rylar. "Sir, this matter is being handled by the Vysberg Civitas. I advise you to leave, please. This area isn't secure." The man has a gruff, unpracticed "official" voice.
Rylar turns to the new Civitas officer. "The Kyn that injured the Sith, where is he?"
The sergeant makes no attempt to answer but continues to stick to the approved dialogue. Two of the armored officers escort the three Kyn, unshackled, to the idling transport and in moments, they lift off and quit the scene.
Rylar looks at the Kyn being taken away, then looks back at who is quite obviously, by his gai and insignia, the person in charge. "Your name and rank, officer."
The sergeant huffs. "Sergeant Toll MkNor, Vysberg Civitas Immediate Response, 8th ward.” The muscle-bound man’s natural accent has punched through the wet paper bag that was his attempt at an "official Marcher" dialect, causing his heavy, sing-song lilt to flavor his words. “Sir, you need to leave." The sergeant is getting precipitously more annoyed.
Rylar steps towards the sergeant, standing right in his helmeted, “four-eyed” face. "I am Lieutenant Rylar, Imperial diplomatic service, adjutant to Lord Quarasha, Lord Ambassador to this world. If those Kyn somehow vanish from your PERSONAL custody, the weight of the Sith Empire will come down upon your little head, Sergeant MkNor. I suggest you not lose them."
Rylar turns before the sergeant can respond, striding back to the embassy, to determine the poor man's condition.
The sergeant responds, yelling after him. "Your mighty Empire don't own this street, pal! Don't come back until it's been cleared!"
"It now owns your head, Sergeant!"
The sergeant sighs heavily, muttering something about a "fethin’ jumped up little shite," then helps maintain the official Civitas cordon on the street. In only an hour, with its inhabitant’s lust for excitement sufficiently sated, the Diplomatic Quarter returns to its average, lightsaber-less level of excitement.
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