<<< PREV@DragonrubyAmenmesh was silent for some time. The path he led them along was different from how they entered, and as they went further down the corridors, the change in architecture and materials became noticeable. It was more modern and simplistic, metal bulkheads replacing the carved stone walls of the other hallways. The Lord ushered the diplomats into a room and sealed the door before answering. The room was dimly lit, but as Amenmesh spoke, he stepped toward an illuminated control panel and began activating sets of lights until the room was totally visible.
"It means deathmatch."
With the lights on, the Terrans could see they were standing in some kind of armory, with racks of weapons lining the walls, and a few armor stands placed in the center.
"Zisuthra and I planned for him to rule the Assembly. Megalu was to nominate Zisuthra as well, solidifying the Steadfast's lead. It seems the Heretic decided to make the situation more interesting, and his vote persuaded Megalu to nominate me."
Amenmesh walked over to the wall on his right, running a bare finger -- the tail end of a worm in his hand -- along the items there. A hefty warhammer, a wicked looking sword.
"If Ugar's priest had not cast her vote for me, it would be Ugar and Zisuthra fighting. It seems the priest, though angering the Old One, has saved his life. Zisuthra would never have picked me if Ugar and I had tied. Zisuthra must think I have betrayed him."
The Lord stepped over to an empty armor stand, peeling off pieces of his environmental hardsuit. Compared to a warrior's armor, the hardsuit was thin, though still fairly hefty. It was comprised of plates linked by synthetic polymers, with thin hoses running under the surface. It was by no means intended for combat. Diplomatic missions, friendly meetings, and ruin surveying were the environments it was designed for.
With his arm bare, the Terrans could see parts of the metal endoskeleton that supported Amenmesh's body. The worms ran up and down its length, a twitching mass that looked like thick muscle fibers. With eyes and mouths. Here and there, nodes protruded up between the worms, especially around the joints of the skeleton. They were attachment points, where a new metal skin could become part of the Ophisian's body.
Amenmesh set the exosuit's gauntlet plates down and grabbed a fistful of armor plates to replace it. It took a few moments, but when he was done, Amenmesh had a forearm nearly twice as thick as before.
"It is too late now. Zisuthra will not be holding back. I do not know how much of him I will have to kill to him to yield, but I know how much of me he will attempt to kill. I can not afford to die today, not even a small death."
With his new arm, Amenmesh stepped back to the weapon rack and grabbed the warhammer. He held it out in front of the Terrans, crouching slightly. Then, he pointed at a pair of indents in the hammerhead, one on either side.
"These are for the fuel tanks."
---
Fully armored, Amenmesh led the Terrans back through the halls. There were quarters prepared for the diplomats. The room was large, but the furnishings had been made with the size of the Terrans in mind. Still, the beds and chairs were a little larger than they may have expected even for lavish furnishings.
"The switch on the wall there will lower a privacy divider across the center of the room, from one corner to the opposite. I do not know if your people make use of such things, but it has been included. Stand clear as it lowers. I do not think it will kill you, but it will be painful. I hope these controls can be understood; we configured it with your script, but we have left the functions simple as a precaution. They will adjust the atmosphere in this room and the attached bathhouse to be more appropriate for your kind. We have noticed you breathe less oxygen then our people, and your trace elements differ significantly. One switch to bring it to your comfort levels, another is to be pressed a thousand seconds before you open the main door. You will find a similar panel in the bath-house, to adjust the water temperature and depth. We do not know how buoyant you Terrans are, or how long you can be submerged in the water. If you wish to breathe more oxygen for recreational purposes, there is an option for that as well. Be cautious. I do not want to explain two dead diplomats to my brothers or to yours."
The Lord paused to give the Terrans a moment to understand.
"No matter the outcome tomorrow, your people will be held in the same regard as before. Zisuthra and I have the same plans for you. We want to form a... I do not know what word you will hear it as... A brotherhood. A union. A Congregation of Lords, with Terrans and the Ouroboros side by side. Should I fall tomorrow and be rendered incapable for some time, this offer will still be made to your people by Zisuthra. I do hope our two kinds can work together some day. Yours and mine would make an effective warhost, I believe."
Amenmesh gave the Terrans a brief blessing, which they likely understood only a word or two of, and then excused himself to meditate.
* * * * * *
<<< PREV@ClocktowerEchos:: THEN YOU COME SEEKING YOUR MASTER'S ARSENAL. TELL ME, WHERE HAVE THEY GONE TO DIE? ::
/πΉπ¨π«π°π¨π΅π» πΊπ»πΆπΉπ΄ π¨πͺπͺπΌπΊπ¬πΊ π»π―π¬ πΎπ°πͺπ²π¬π«/ brings its weapons to bear. It is not a warship, but carries a sufficient arsenal to defend itself. Several gimbaled coilguns are mounted on each flank, and half a dozen missile tubes accompany them on each side. The guns have sufficient power to damage or even disable systems if they strike true, but they were never intended to significantly penetrate armor except with sustained fire. The missiles are similar, their warheads designed to focus their nuclear discharge into a single cone pointed forward, for the precise application of God's judgement. /πΉπ¨π«π°π¨π΅π» πΊπ»πΆπΉπ΄ π¨πͺπͺπΌπΊπ¬πΊ π»π―π¬ πΎπ°πͺπ²π¬π«/ maneuvers to shorten the gap between the two parties, approaching at an angle to keep the xeno vessel within its firing arcs.
:: YOU CLAIM TO BE PACIFISTS, BUT ARE YOURSELVES PART OF YOUR MASTER'S LEGACY. GOD FROWNS UPON YOUR EXISTENCE. IS THERE NOT A LINGERING MALICE IN YOUR BLOOD, INHERITED FROM YOUR PROGENITORS? IF NOT, WHY SEEK YOUR INHERITANCE HERE? ::
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