Astarina wrote:"Captain Xeroth, we summon you to the High Council Chambers immediately." the voice of a kinsman echoes inside Xeroth's head. The Maraxi Captain rises from his bed and stands suddenly, knowing the voice well.
The High Priests summon me? An honour...but why? Xeroth thinks, donning his battlesuit and hastily walking through the labyrinth-like corridors of the Maraxus Prime Military Headquarters. Fellow soldiers greet him politely, but Xeroth has no time for idle chitchat. He has been summoned by the most powerful, honourable, blessed of his kin, an honour rarely given by the Council. So few of the Maraxi had actually met the High Priests face-to-face, or even communed with them. Xeroth was overcome by honour, and so made it his sole duty to please the Council.
Exiting the Military Headquarters, Xeroth is greeted by the familiar overgrown jungle of his homeland, untouched for millenia, a living relic of the Maraxi. Normally he would stop for a moment to reflect on the beauty of the environment, but now was not the time. He rushes to the High Council Chambers, at the entrance of which two armed guards stand. Not a word is exchanged between Xeroth and the guards, there is simply an understanding nod before Xeroth is given clearance. Once he enters the Chambers, Xeroth immediately lowers his faceplate to reveal his scarred face and kneels on one knee to the five High Priests seated around the round table in front of him. He bows his head before sending his message to the five leaders of the Maraxi.
"Blessed Ones...you do me the greatest of honours by accepting me here." he says, head still bowed.
"Now is not the time for pleasantries. We have received a distressing message from Aetha. Rise, hardened warrior." the same voice Xeroth had heard earlier echoes. He obeys the command, standing quickly and making eye contact with the five High Priests.
"You have spoken to Her? A distressing message? Space pirates attacking again?" Xeroth replies curiously, mandibles twitching.
"No, worse than space pirates. War. Inter-civilisation war. The conflict between the Klendarians and the Delathu draws closer and closer to our systems."
Xeloth's mandibles click in some show of...outrage, perhaps.
"What?! Impossible! The Klendarians and Delathu are lightyears away...how could they be so close?"
"I sense doubt in your thoughts, Xeroth...do you doubt the words of Aetha?"
"No...no, of course not...nor do I doubt the words of her Chosen. What would you have me do, Blessed One? Xeroth says, calming down and kneeling again.
"Ready the fleets for any infringement on our airspace. We mustn't let their unholy war cause collateral to us. Should their feud come here, warn them to leave...if they do not, well...we will have to resort to drastic measures."
"Of course."
"You are dismissed, Captain. Aetha guide you."
"And also you, Blessed One."
As he stands to leave, Xeroth bows lowly, almost touching his chest with his head. The bow continues for a length of time that would seem almost comedic to a non-Maraxi, but in Maraxi culture, such a bow is a sign of ultimate loyalty, respect and subservience. Xeroth slowly rises from his bow, then exits the Chambers, raising his faceplate to cover his face again.
Xeroth enters the bedroom of the Maraxi Fleet Commanders, sending a signal telepathically for them all to wake up. Suddenly, they all stand in unison, offering the Captain a Maraxi salute (one arm horizontally across the chest).
"At ease, men. I bring orders direct from the Blessed Ones, who in turn received theirs from Aetha Herself...we are to deploy our fleets to all Maraxi systems for defensive purposes. The Klendarian-Derathu War draws closer, we must prepare ourselves. I want 50 ships around Prime and 20 around all other systems. Go to it!"
"YES SIR!" the near-deafening echo of all of the Fleet Commanders replies. They run out of the room and the Headquarters, heading to the Hangar Bay to deploy their fleets.
