Location: The MOR
Silvia had never seen such a cluster fuck of records as she sat there going through the last years worth of so called paper work. It wasn't the Towers fault, Tristan had had so many things blacked out over the years it was hard to tell what had happened. She had seen similar tactics used in the past by other tower leads but not to this extent. Sure it was a Leads prerogative to run their tower as they saw fit and as long as the numbers were sent it the GTC didn't care what else was going on as long as it didn't cause a problem. Thing was, there was a problem, a lot of them. The people seemed to be miserable. She had seen some working in Prison Colony's having a better outlook on life. This place seemed to be set up as more of a punishment than a job.
Sighing she leaned back in her seat and rubbed her temples. She had heard the rumors about Tristan but she had figured at least some of them had been exaggerated, seemed they weren't. In fact it seemed that the rumors hadn't really even touched the surface. Something had to be done before this Tower got any worse but as long as Tristan was there she doubted much would change. Sure she could do what she thought was right when she was on shift but when it came own to it Tristan could undo it all soon as he stepped back into the MOR and make it even worse. She really didn't want to make matters worse for the people.
"You have that look in your eyes," Marc said as he chuckled a bit. Silvia didn't say anything in retort, just letting a smirk crawl across her lips. Marc shook his head and excused himself, wanting to head down to the commissary to get a bite to eat. Time on Altenia was vastly different than back on Earth. He was going to bring Silvia something back but she wasn't wanting to eat until she was off shift and with Tristan being in the infirmary still she had no idea when they would be. Granted she figured once he was out her and he would be having several choice words for the other.
At least the repairs were going well and nothing else was getting damaged at that time. Silvia went to work on getting a few things together for the repair crew, as a sign of gratitude once everything was complete. Some things would still take days to finish up but at least the biggest problems had been dealt with; the tower wasn't compromised structurally and Silvia's crystal was in working order now.
Down in the infirmary Tristan was groggy but it didn't stop him from being livid, all it did was keep him from lashing out fully physically, telepathically, or verbally. In fact most of what he said came out as drunken gibberish at first. He thought he was speaking clear as crystal but in the end no one around him could make out a single thing he was saying. Which in turn made him even more furious because he thought people were ignoring what he was saying. Didn't matter they kept telling him that he wasn't making sense or that he needed to wait until he woke up more fully, his blood pressure kept rising.
Looking over towards Fisher as he came in he narrowed his eyes and managed to get out the first coherent thing he had said since Crisna had knocked him out in the first place.
"I want her put in chains!" he hissed as he lay there. Crisna coming in as she heard him finally making sense. Sitting up the bed he was laying on a bit so he wasn't still flat on his back even though she thought it was better that way. "And off world, now!" he added as he flung his hands in the air, trying to get Crisna away from him, he didn't want to be examined right then. Crisna just rolled her eyes and walked back out of the room. He obviously was feeling well enough that he wasn't going to keel over dead in the next five minutes. Mores the pity.
Dawn had broken hours before in the village of the Brax’Na. The village of the Brax’Na was unlike all other settlements on Altenia. It wasn’t an advanced society, having pushed aside modern ways to hold tight to their heritage. One that was mostly unknown to the GTC due to the isolation the Brax’Na preferred to keep. They had some modern items and knew how to run GTC machinery to help find and dig out the crystals so the Singers could do their job. It was a good living, providing well for them. Well, it would have been if Tristan didn’t find every possible loophole in the system to keep the Brax’Na from receiving their payment and goods of trade in exchange for the work they did.
Due to the Brax’Na having no known talents they were not much of a threat in the eyes of the GTC and there for their complaints usually went to deaf ears. What the GTC and the Brax’Na did not know was that Tristan intercepted most communications and weeded out anything that would cause him anything more than a mild inconvenience. He enjoyed keeping the Brax’Na under his thumb, they were beneath him as far as he was concerned and if they were ever to rise up he felt confident that he could snub them out without issue; including their precious Jun’Krama.
The council came together early for the talks of the day. The talks as usual revolved around two things; Crystal Harvesting and the local Tower Lead Tristan. In the council room was filled with all the members including the Jun’Krama, the chief of the Brax’Na. The various leaders of the village were in an uproar. Another payment and another shipment of supplies was being held up by Tristan. Nothing had been left at the designated drop point that morning and their food supplies were running short.
“I have had it with that loathsome creature in his pristine tower,” one of the council members, Kre’lin bellowed as he rose from his seat and slammed his fist into the table. “We must take action! We are warriors! Not slaves!”
“And what would that do? Cause the annihilation of our kind? We do not possess the needed resources to take on a Tower, much less the GTC when they decide to retaliate if we for some reason were able to take the Tower,” an older Brax’Na member of the council growled from his seat.
“You are weak Ty’jin! Age has caused you to be fearful instead of fearless,” Kre’lin snapped towards the older man. Within a split second Ty’jin has risen from his chair and his sword was at the throat of Kre’lin.
“Do not doubt my skill young one. Age has not made me weak, it has made me cautious,” he said as he removed the sword from the mans throat and placed it back in its sheath before sitting back down in his seat. “Jun’Krama, we must speak with GNC once again and let them know what it going on.”
“That has done nothing in the past!” Kre’lin said as he rubbed his throat, a small trickle of blood coming from a razor slice. The rest of the council yelled and knocked the table in agreement.
“Perhaps, but we have to try. There is word of a new T-1 on the planet. Perhaps a changing of the guard is happening,” Ty’jin retorted quickly.
“A woman, what good would she be? We have no need of help from that kind. Talent or Woman!” Kre’lin bellowed.
Ignoring what Kre’lin said Ty’jin leaned closer to the Jun’Krama. “Perhaps it is time you made a personal appearance at the tower; a show of force that we will not stand for it anymore but not a show of war. Woman or not, anything would be better than that demon in the tower now. Even the Goddess of Chaos of herself,” Ty’jin said, referring to the very woman in their lore that had killed their strongest so long ago. The very reason Brax’Na hated woman and talents. “And being a woman, perhaps weak enough to not stand against you?” he said as he perked a brow and awaited word from the one they called their God Warrior.
