Old Man, Rakodan
He wasn’t as young and agile as he once was, and his clumsiness may end up getting him killed. After the rocks were sent careening down the embankment, he stood in full view of the xenos, ready to accept whatever fate would throw at him. He was obviously unarmed, even from the distance he stood from the xenos, all of whom were Ellireans. In his time as an Imperial officer, he’d dealt with the Ellireans aplenty. Their expansionist nature shrouded by their seemingly noble intentions. They supposedly hated humanity for its alien ways, and antithetical ways, but he knew the truth. They hated humanity because humanity had achieved galactic dominance first. Now it mattered little, the great Imperium of Man was no more, split into a thousand thousand smaller pieces.
Many years ago, when the bounties on Admiral Tchaikovsky’s head were mounting, the Imperium had seen fit to give him some hostage training. For all the good it would have done him. If any of his numerous enemies would have gotten their hands on him, he would have been dead and desecrated within the hour. Even still, he called upon that training in the hopes that he might live a little longer.
Holding his hands up submissively in the air, he cleared his throat, not having used his vocal cords in some time.
“I can explain...”
Rifles still raised and gripped tight, holding the human square in their sights, one of the armed aliens called back to him, it’s voice mixing with the shrill howl of the desert wind but still very much audible.
“You better, before I blow your head right off your shoulders, won’t even be a bit to clean up later.” The Ellirean who spoke to him was tense, that much was sure. He had surprised and startled them, this world was not known for being welcoming, and these Ellireans were definitely not local, their gear, the fact they hadn’t shot him already. They were from the Accordance, perhaps their more civilized Inner-Galaxy ways would keep them calm enough for him to reason with them.
He felt as though he’d been summoned to Rakodan. For what purpose he didn’t yet know. But, these Ellireans didn’t need to know that, else they may think he was some sort of mad dog in need of a prompt euthanization.
“I’m a Psionic. I came to Rakodan in hopes of studying the local tears in the paracasual veil. It looks like you may be here with the same purpose. Perhaps I can be of use to you?”
He still wasn’t sure whether they would let their hatred of humans overcome their supposed civility. So long as he remained useful, he might stay alive for a few moments longer.
Skill-check: 90 - Great Success!
The aliens seemed to talk something over, the one dressed in civilian attire that is. Sturdy and durable outdoor-wear from the look of it. The ones with guns still pointed them at Leon, but it seemed like they listened to the others, one of the civilians had to be the leader of this small group. He could only hear the occasional word, not enough to try and understand the conversation. Soon, one of them motioned to the guards to lower their guns, they did so, albeit reluctantly and they still kept them close to the chest, ready to raise them and fire at the slightest sense of foul play.
“Come down closer human!” The apparent leader calls out. “Se we can talk without shouting over the wind? How long have you been here? We want to know what you may have observed.”
“No sudden movements! And keep your hands where we can see them!” One of the guards added, for good measure.
He kept his hands raised as they were, and with a great deal of caution, made his way down the embankment to join the scientists, or whatever they may be. Once he reached the bottom, he folded his hands in front of him so they were easily visible to the xenos.
“I’ve been here longer than anyone with any measure of sense.” He joked. “A few weeks at the most, it's hard to be sure. The days blend together, and the tears in the veil make time seem to flow differently here.”
He tensed suddenly, as the familiar thrum of the paracasual flared in his ears.
“And I’ve seen things. Things you wouldn’t believe unless you were gifted with Psionics such as mine.”
The leader looked at him with a mix of fear and intriguement. Still spooked by the fact he was caught sneaking around their camp and watching them from the shadows. But she still took a few steps forward, regarding the human from top to bottom, apprising him.
“Evolution gave us only part of the gift, we must rely on chance for the rest.” She said with slight exasperation.
“My name is Mieemth T’Kess, I’m a researcher from the department of Xenoarchaeology at the University of Nicayle. I’ve come to study the Rakodan civilization and their social system, we know little of them and orbital scans from our ship showed a largely intact structure, buried somewhere in the surrounding area. Have you seen anything like that it in your time here? Do you know what I speak of?” She said, curiously waiting for an answer. Her companions seemed far less excited and talkative, watching him with fear in their eyes, except for the guards who regarded him with cold glares, guns lowered but fingers hovering very close to the trigger-guard.
“Perhaps. It looked like a house or maybe a mansion. I saw it in a vision. I was on my way to find it, when I came across all of you.”
Maybe it was fate, or just dumb luck that he had come across these academic types. They may come in handy should the situation get dicey. It also helped that the civvies looked a bit afraid of him.
“This all may sound very convenient, but if it helps assuage your fears, you may search my person and effects. Otherwise we may as well get on our way.”
T’Kess nodded to her guards, one of the xenos stepped forward, her companion still ready to riddle Leon with holes if he as much as twitched out of turn. Patting him down, she found nothing but a few personal knick-knacks and in his rucksack, finding nothing but the man’s simple, meager belongings, bare necessities needed for survival.
T’Kess nodded to herself, thinking silently. “Meros.” One of the Ellireans in civilian clothing perked up. “Get this human a ration, he looks famished. You will wait here while we gather our equipment, rest, eat. It won’t do to have you collapse in a heap along the way.”
The researcher’s followers seemed to accept their leaders decision, though begrudgingly. He was thrown a meal-pack and one of the guards escorted him to the center of the small camp, indicating a chair for him to sit on. She herself, stayed behind the human. Watching intently, finger on the trigger as T’Kess put a small team together and gathered supplies.
An Elerian and Hungary Production
