Dragonball M, Chapter 4: Kidnapping! Invasion! A new Threat Strikes First!

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Works for me, boss.

[Tami]

Sure.

I just figured this would be the smoothest and simplest way. No extra NPC’s and the GP can still be doing something worthwhile far in the background.

OT: You might need to kick it off so that we all know where to start and what is going on.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

Tanaki salutes Blizzar.

“Don’t worry sir, Earth is in good hands while I’m here. I’ll assist Kami Eva and her defenders in keeping Earth safe.”

Meanwhile, Eva speaks quietly with Hilda, the glow from Eva’s eyes thrumming slightly in Hilda’s presence.

Slak, having just arrived with Chuan, nods to Inanna.

“Ready when you are.”

[Sub-Zero MKA]

Parsley stepped out of Vaikuntha, having spent a month training Etrina in anti-magic. In the meantime, she also observed a great deal about the mage's own magic, a thing that would certainly come in handy for the Saiyan princess later.

"Looks like we're ready to go," Parsley said. "Let's make this fast. We have a lot to get done in a short amount of time."

[Tami]

Tanaki salutes Blizzar.

“Don’t worry sir, Earth is in good hands while I’m here. I’ll assist Kami Eva and her defenders in keeping Earth safe.”

Meanwhile, Eva speaks quietly with Hilda, the glow from Eva’s eyes thrumming slightly in Hilda’s presence.

Slak, having just arrived with Chuan, nods to Inanna.

“Ready when you are.”

After having a momentary bout of déjà vu, Dash found herself standing with the others on the Lookout wondering how they were going to get to this place. There were questions that she would have liked to have answered first, but sometimes there is no time for briefings before conflicts. Two weeks of training with Praxat in the RoSaT, was it enough? With a sigh she figured it'd just have to be.

[KingofPie]

Tanaki salutes Blizzar.

“Don’t worry sir, Earth is in good hands while I’m here. I’ll assist Kami Eva and her defenders in keeping Earth safe.”

Meanwhile, Eva speaks quietly with Hilda, the glow from Eva’s eyes thrumming slightly in Hilda’s presence.

Slak, having just arrived with Chuan, nods to Inanna.

“Ready when you are.”

Blizzard salutes back. "Thank you for your assistance Tanaki. There's another matter that may require some discussion, but I'll forward you a message during our voyage, I suppose," the Arcosian scratched his chin. " Either way, good luck." He nodded, walking over to join the others.

As Blizzar left, Lantro approached Tanaki and introduced himself, "Hey. Dunno, if you recognize me but I used to be MVP of the GO before that box was," the half-Saiyan explaimee, casually catching a hammer that Durive had lobbed at his skull from the corner of the Lookout. "I'm gonna be practicing over at the time court, but call me if you ever need any help."

Durive considered throwing more tools-turned-projectiles at the baller, but now he has a write-up to fufill for his other occupation as chief of the Time Patrol. Several....SEVERAL pages gone. Including his poo-doodles and it wasn't even the fault of one of those depositing amphibians this time! No, this time it was a far greater power...a power that...

Well he had no idea honestly. But he blamed Etrina. He grabbed a time ticket and a stapler, hoping to pin it to her ankle with utmost precision. Along the way, he passed by Sasheem and also decided to staple a ticket to his ankle. Mostly because it would amuse him.

"WHAT THE HELL?!" Sasheem spat, his eyes bugging out of his skull as he turned around to see a rapidly smothering box with...stick legs turning around the corner. He would give Chase to it, but the Majin had other things in his mind. Namely Hilda's premonition in her strange tea readings. Whatever it conveyed seemed fairly obvious but...what led to those events? Sasheem sighed. Things were only gonna get more insane from here, he presumed...

[bruceleegreyhulk]

After having a momentary bout of déjà vu, Dash found herself standing with the others on the Lookout wondering how they were going to get to this place. There were questions that she would have liked to have answered first, but sometimes there is no time for briefings before conflicts. Two weeks of training with Praxat in the RoSaT, was it enough? With a sigh she figured it'd just have to be.

Praxat puts her right hand on Dash's left shoulder." Dash, what do you want to do? Do you feel that training two weeks in the RoSaT was enough?" Praxat said.

" I still haven't fully developed my new technique I been working on in there. Well, I guess after this is over, both of us will be applying as GP Cadets," Praxat said.

[Tami]

Praxat puts her right hand on Dash's left shoulder." Dash, what do you want to do? Do you feel that training two weeks in the RoSaT was enough?" Praxat said.

" I still haven't fully developed my new technique I been working on in there. Well, I guess after this is over, both of us will be applying as GP Cadets," Praxat said.

"Ah haven't actually decided yet." Dash scratched her head, "Does this means your serious 'bout it?"

"As for the trainin, well we'll just have to do the best we can with what we got and back each other up."

[bruceleegreyhulk]

"Ah haven't actually decided yet." Dash scratched her head, "Does this means your serious 'bout it?"

"As for the trainin, well we'll just have to do the best we can with what we got and back each other up."

" Of course, after hearing all about Tanaki's training from her. It got me pumped up, So yeah, I'm serious about applying to the GP Cadets. Yeah, I got your back Dash," Praxat said.

[grampagen]

A heavy sigh of relief went unheard among the shattering of stone and the dampening of sound created by plumes of dust, but it was there nonetheless.

Such nusiences did nothing to disrupt the Shingan, piercing through the veil like the tip of Unicorn's horn. His sight told him what his instincts knew, as he looked upon the shocked, impotent form of the priestess, her mind struggling to make sense of how mere 'mortals' could undo the works of a supposed god.

"Well...." The Nevadian twirrled his spear overhead with blinding speed, creating a mighty vortex that dispelled the thick dust from around the area, scattering it to the four corners.

"That was a bit tougher than I expected..." The twirling stopped, and the Nevadian placed the tip of the spear onto what little footholds still remained. "...Or maybe I just need to get out a bit more."

He moved uncomfortably, adjusting an unseen unpleasantness in his back. "....Yes, but it's probably both."

Good Grief, we weren't even up against the real deal and it was that rough? I'd hate to think what would have happen if we ran into Auroc unprepared, as opposed to his lackeys....

His attention turned to one of the remaining lackeys, her spirit shattered worse than the stone structure that was once a place of worship, now a house of ruination.

He felt a pang of sympathy for the woman, handed a defeat that no doubt penetrated to the very root of her being, mind, body, and soul. It was likely nothing compared to the crushing of the essence of those indoctrinated into her cult, but it was worth noting, nonetheless.

But, that was a tale for another day.

"Captain?" Held spoke, contacting Ulysses over the communicator, "We have another one to bring in for pickup. Is it all well on your end?"

He glanced at his two great friends as he continued speaking, "There's no rush, since we have much to do here, but I did want to get that drink at some point during nightfall..."

There was the start of this, a sombre aftermath. Auroc's devoted gave of themselves. When the Threshling god's power had been exhausted, they saw just how little he had given in return.

"My god left me...."Priestess Cin replied cryptically. "WIthout one word of warning...He abandoned us..."

With the Sword, the Voice, and the Heart of the Faithful toppled one after the other, the effect pronounced itself planetwide. The legions of the now-masterless were defeated, and they fell their weapons from their hands and simply...collapsed limply where they stood. Body and soul were offered, the blooming sheaves felled and offered to the Threshling god. They'd sacrificed everything to that promise of power; without it, and with the source of their power cut off so suddenly by Held's severance of Auroc's Gate, they fell inert like mindless drones.

Captain Ulysses received Held's transmission where he stood at the base of the pyramid where the fighting was the thickest, and the Nevadian Navigators found themselves at something of a loss to deal with the situation.

"Heh, if we're taking prisoners, it might be faster to build a cage over the whole planet," he muttered, "All we wanted was to find the place."

When they regrouped, two of the Nevadians brought one of the now mindless Faithful to the three. Flesh made malleable to suit the zealot's mind, it was uncanny how they neither resembled the locals, nor the Threshlings they'd come to know on either side of battle. Whatever had been driven into them was some artificial conversion. There were little embellishments that whispered little stories of the men and women they used to be; a vestigial scar here, a marking there, but the uncanny uniformity of these Converted Threshlings like clay pressed through plaster cast into the vision of somebody's ideal vision.

Ochazuke studied the makeup of this Convert. The body was taught with the vigor of physical prime, but the glassy eyes and gaping mouth left the man well short of any task more complicated than breathing. On closer examination, there was something within him that lay inert, spread throughout his entire being. Something that lay beneath the blood and nerves, of a signature in common with the energies stored within the Obsidian Ziggurat. Suddenly he struck out at him, his stiff palms stopping short of striking the converted physically, but when the Iron Wind of Kongosho cast out the black shroud of Auroc's possession, the Converted suddenly sprung to life with a great, bloodcurling scream as thick, inky blooms wicked into the air, but just as swiftly stretched and faded into smoky whisps reaching upward as if to grasp something, then disappeared entirely.

After this forceful exorcism, the Baradurian man fell limply upon the ground, whimpering in the throes of some dark dream he had only begun to wake from. Ochazuke wiped the sweat from his eyes,

"Bring the others to me."

"Brother, take a load off," Zaofan offered, "We've fought hard all day, but this...it could take hours."

"As long as it takes, then," he replied, and he said no more as he set to work fervently and heard no argument to the contrary. He continued, one after the other, pausing every so often and lifting a Black Sphere up to the sky, as if it were a lens through which he could trace the path of the tendrils.

_____

With little more to do but wait, Zaofan and Captain Ulysses turned their attention to the newly liberated locals. Hardy men and women, theirs was a humble existence, yet against the Threshling menace they fought tirelessly, on arrow barb and flint-edge and obsidian blade alike. Primitive as the Baradurians were, yet all the same theirs was the pulsing blood of a hardened people. In their hearts they wanted for little more than justice this day, but after all of this, they were lacking in the material to make that happen.

Of course, nature abhors a vacuum, the worst of all being weariness and empty stomachs. With that came new opportunities to exchange recipes for the Martial Chef...and inroads to fresh trading ventures with the Nevadian Federation.

They had a curious drink, they called Sugiki. It was a simple preparation made of a maize-like kernel mash, and it went down sweet, but once it settled the intensity of the notes hit, as if every part of those tiny seeds had been converted into a tiny shot. And the sharp, grassy notes of pestled succulent leaves, ah! A season's worth of harvest would be sufficient within a thimble, and they served it in great wooden tankards!

"In hard times it was our comfort," one aged warrior said, "it quiets the Big Spirits, so you can hear the Little Soul you posses within. The Great-Eyed-One placed his head at the top of our totems, and loomed over us for so long, many of our people had lost their way."

It was so good, Zaofan had decompressed a capsule of the reserve stout he'd made back at the Lookout. After all the fighting, they all needed something to lift their spirits, and they had a playful war of words over glass bottles and stone cups, and they began to negotiate with aged reserves for trade secrets.

Eventually arc of the sun had passed to night. Standing in the clearing where the Guild vessels hung in their suspension fields, Ochazuke - who had utterly disappeared from the small celebration he held a long gaze into the black of night, and toward the stars by which they had charted their course.

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

On Reshlan..........


The Grand Maven stopped, eyes looking to the sky. They narrow, and her hands twitch as green arcane energy sizzles between her fingers.

“Something wicked this way comes.”

She smiles slightly. Good. Good. Lord Auroc was nearly healed, Knight Kakarot was in position, and the Queen was secured. The pieces were in lance for their defense. Now she just had to wait for their...guests.

“Come and get us, little fish. I’ll enjoy stripping you of your kinds and powers.”

[Miburo]

The Nevadian bristled in his ship, now nested just outside the camp the good captain had established.

"This was totally outside your mandate, Admiral!" The voice on the intercom irately stated, deep, masculine and aged, clearly annoying by Held's update.

"Untrue. My primary tasks were exploration and to ascertain the location of the Threshling empire. This was an exploration mission, and this has indeed pointed us in the correct direction."

A snort could be heard.

"Your men went off half cocked to go pick a fight with emissaries of a power power, in lieu of diplomatic relations, because they didn't like the way they operated! Who gave them the authorization?!"

The Nevadian groaned inwardly, barely resisting the urge to hang up the call.

"Those men you're referring to have fought beside me long enough for me to say that their judgement is beyond reproach, sir." Held replied coolly, "For all intents and purposes, my authority is their authority while I am otherwise occupied."

The Nevadian turned away for a moment, opening a refrigeration unit as some lecture played out incessantly, before procuring a bottle of wine procured sometime ago.

No. This one was not the right type for the occasion.

"It's going to be quite difficult to get any others of their kind to negotiate with us, now that you've taken so many of their command prisoner!"

"They wouldn't negotiate with us under any circumstance, sir." Held replied, looking over a clear bottle with contents that rivaled the red of the most scarlet of rubies, "As I said, they came to conquer, not to negotiate. The only terms they found acceptable would be the complete surrender of our people---"

"I don't think a cease fire was that unreasonable---"

Held chuckled in response.

"No, sir. I mean a complete surrender of the Nevadian Federation and her allies to the Threshing Empire as a vassal state, in lieu of complete and utter subjugation and annihilation."

An uneasy silence lingered.

"A bluff?"

"....I'll send you the data that Captain Ulysses obtained regarding the tactics used on the locals shortly. I'll also include my assessment of the enemy commanders morale."

It could work. He should asked Zaofan what he planned to make for dinner, shouldn't he? It's hard to find a good pairing going in blind.

"To summarize, I do not think it was a bluff, so much as standard operating procedure....I'm not even convinced that even if we were to surrender in some mirror world, that we wouldn't meet the same fate as those who didn't. It's simply more expedient for them."

He placed the red bottle back into the unit, frowning.

"Have you made contact with the Prime Minister yet?" The voice asked, as Held removed a clear bottle, it's contents so transparent as to almost be invisible. "What about the other members of the council? I'm sure they're waiting to hear from you after that stunt you pulled the other day."

The Admiral's shrug was invisible as they had only established verbal communication.

"You're the first to call." Held replied, "I suppose the rumors in regards to the quality of your spy network aren't unfounded, even here of all places... Of course, as a result of your diligence, I haven't exactly had time to craft my report to the standards I'd prefer."

A chuckle was heard, "Was that your idea of flattery? After I did you the courtesy of helping you clean up that space station you...." He struggled for the words.

"Defiled?"

Good Grief...I'm never going to hear the end of that one from anyone, am I? Still...What the hell was that?

"I wouldn't insult you with flattery, merely observation. Besides, I'm sure you're more than thrilled I responded. I can sense you already crafting a way to use this situation to your advantage to begin with."

"Our advantage." He corrected, "I'm not going to claim to be your biggest fan, but I'm far too old to let clan politics or jealousy at an up and comer blind my sense of opportunity."

Held arched an eyebrow, "Go on."

"I'll say that we collaborated on this spectacle of yours. That should silence the others enough to let you work in peace. Maybe you'll even get lucky and one or two of them might start to warm up to you. Between that, and the Prime Ministers esteem for you, I imagine that any pretense of disdain for you and your supposed indiscretion will blow over soon enough."

Held laughed in amusement, "And should I flatter myself and assume it's because of my charm? Or does the idea of this place as a potential outpost, and it's myriad resources hold some interest from our honored head of the Merchant's Guild?"

The elder chuckled in response, "I've never liked or loved anyone enough to get in the way of business. But, you're certainly proving your utility, and that's all that it takes to get into my good graces."

...That old cutthroat...I guess that's a blessing in disguise though. It's been tricky managing to make more allies with influence...


"Ah! There it is!" Held exclaimed, placing down the clear bottle in ornate, ebony bottle, easily the side of the Nevadians torso. "Say what you will, but you've got good taste, Incenio."

"....You're really that starved for compliments, Debon?" The elder asked, sympathy in his voice, "I know that we've been hard on you, but I didn't imagine that you found it so difficult..."

****.

"No....No Sir." Held replied, pretending to choke up a bit, sniffling slightly "I'm fine. It's just been a lot of effort, and it means so, so much, just to finally be appreciated."

"...Oh. Um. Well. Yes. You've...got a...lot of potential and I.....Umm."

"I'm sorry sir." Held interupted, "Can I get a few minutes? I wasn't planning on having you see me like this."

"Oh, yes! Certainly!" The man exclaimed, clearly thankful for the end of his pain, "Take all the time you need. Don't forget, we like papers filled out in Sextuplicate for these kinds of events! Farewell!"

The call ended before Held could so much as reply.

The Nevadian laughed at the quality of his acting, massive bottle in tow as he headed off to celebrate this small victory with friend and ally alike.

"....Well, that was a close one. If that went on any longer I might have ended up drinking the whole bottle myself."

[grampagen]

"I don't think a cease fire was that unreasonable---"

Held chuckled in response.

"No, sir. I mean a complete surrender of the Nevadian Federation and her allies to the Threshing Empire as a vassal state, in lieu of complete and utter subjugation and annihilation."

An uneasy silence lingered.

"A bluff?"

"....I'll send you the data that Captain Ulysses obtained regarding the tactics used on the locals shortly. I'll also include my assessment of the enemy commanders morale."

It could work. He should asked Zaofan what he planned to make for dinner, shouldn't he? It's hard to find a good pairing going in blind.

"To summarize, I do not think it was a bluff, so much as standard operating procedure....I'm not even convinced that even if we were to surrender in some mirror world, that we wouldn't meet the same fate as those who didn't. It's simply more expedient for them."

He placed the red bottle back into the unit, frowning.

"Have you made contact with the Prime Minister yet?" The voice asked, as Held removed a clear bottle, it's contents so transparent as to almost be invisible. "What about the other members of the council? I'm sure they're waiting to hear from you after that stunt you pulled the other day."

The Admiral's shrug was invisible as they had only established verbal communication.

"You're the first to call." Held replied, "I suppose the rumors in regards to the quality of your spy network aren't unfounded, even here of all places... Of course, as a result of your diligence, I haven't exactly had time to craft my report to the standards I'd prefer."

A chuckle was heard, "Was that your idea of flattery? After I did you the courtesy of helping you clean up that space station you...." He struggled for the words.

"Defiled?"

Good Grief...I'm never going to hear the end of that one from anyone, am I? Still...What the hell was that?

"I wouldn't insult you with flattery, merely observation. Besides, I'm sure you're more than thrilled I responded. I can sense you already crafting a way to use this situation to your advantage to begin with."

"Our advantage." He corrected, "I'm not going to claim to be your biggest fan, but I'm far too old to let clan politics or jealousy at an up and comer blind my sense of opportunity."

Held arched an eyebrow, "Go on."

"I'll say that we collaborated on this spectacle of yours. That should silence the others enough to let you work in peace. Maybe you'll even get lucky and one or two of them might start to warm up to you. Between that, and the Prime Ministers esteem for you, I imagine that any pretense of disdain for you and your supposed indiscretion will blow over soon enough."

Held laughed in amusement, "And should I flatter myself and assume it's because of my charm? Or does the idea of this place as a potential outpost, and it's myriad resources hold some interest from our honored head of the Merchant's Guild?"

The elder chuckled in response, "I've never liked or loved anyone enough to get in the way of business. But, you're certainly proving your utility, and that's all that it takes to get into my good graces."

...That old cutthroat...I guess that's a blessing in disguise though. It's been tricky managing to make more allies with influence...


"Ah! There it is!" Held exclaimed, placing down the clear bottle in ornate, ebony bottle, easily the side of the Nevadians torso. "Say what you will, but you've got good taste, Incenio."

"....You're really that starved for compliments, Debon?" The elder asked, sympathy in his voice, "I know that we've been hard on you, but I didn't imagine that you found it so difficult..."

****.

"No....No Sir." Held replied, pretending to choke up a bit, sniffling slightly "I'm fine. It's just been a lot of effort, and it means so, so much, just to finally be appreciated."

"...Oh. Um. Well. Yes. You've...got a...lot of potential and I.....Umm."

"I'm sorry sir." Held interupted, "Can I get a few minutes? I wasn't planning on having you see me like this."

"Oh, yes! Certainly!" The man exclaimed, clearly thankful for the end of his pain, "Take all the time you need. Don't forget, we like papers filled out in Sextuplicate for these kinds of events! Farewell!"

The call ended before Held could so much as reply.

The Nevadian laughed at the quality of his acting, massive bottle in tow as he headed off to celebrate this small victory with friend and ally alike.

"....Well, that was a close one. If that went on any longer I might have ended up drinking the whole bottle myself."

A short distance outside of where the Galloping was docked, Held would find Zaofan and two of the Nevadian Expedition nestled on the stone grounds of the temple huddled in a circle with a group of the locals. Shuffling and hurried whispers passed between clique to clique, the familiar blips of the Universal Translators on the ears of his subordinates sorting syntax; the more they conversed and inferred, the more data they had to firm up communication...and the hustle. It seemed the Chef was in a negotiation with an elder matronly sort, who held a large stone molcahete containing a savoury paste, and large earthenware jar about as large as she was tall. Two capsules clinked in Zaofan's hand like dice, and he raised the other, holding up a count of fingers..

Two.

The Matron turned to the others and muttered, shaking her head, before returning the gesture.

Three.

Folding his arms, Zaofan sighed, then nodded, and produced a third capsule, then reached over and shook her hand, which she seemed, at first, quite uncomfortable with, but slowly thawed as the prizes were exchanged.

"Ah, Held! You're just in time!" His words were mildly slurry, the Nevadian company raising stone goblets filled with as sweet as it was stiff. Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, Zaofan laughed as he shared the fruits of his trade.

"You gotta try this, it's like guac but the heat, that's stuff that's local," he beamed, swiping a hunk of flatbread into a bowl, "The Chief's mother said she wouldn't part with the secret, but would let me try to figure it out in exchange for some kitchen steel and two kegs."

Suspiciously, he made no mention of the sealed jug the Navigator crew was pouring out around them. A sharp, acetone-sweet smell carried such pungency that it hit the palate without a sip, and the notes of earth and grass took root even in the absence of a single drop.

A bit further away, Captain Ulysses stood in conversation with Ochazuke. The Navigator looked up in disbelief at something, while the martial artist stood firm, and pointed the way, until the former broke away.

"Forgive me if I don't join you and the boys, Admiral," Ulysses myttered. "More work to do. Pointing the way on a compass is one thing, but we're not exactly planetside. Out there the stars aren't static, and now we have to account for whole new ones to plot our course."

He sighed, and began tallying what input they had since landing on Baradur. "But they're all vectors to me, I'll see what I can put together. We found this place after all, so if your man's as good as he was before, we'll find it."

Standing against the inky sky, only grounded torches for light in the ruin of the Ziggurat, Ochazuke held the Black Sphere of Elder Nail in his hand, seeming to fruitlessly measure the distance between himself and the stars, silent as he examined a subtler thing in the air.

A residual energy trail. To the naked eye it would exist only as sure as smoke thinned by a stiff breeze, but assuredly the Shingan still picked up on what was there. It had consumed the flesh and minds of the faithful, and even now it still clung to the soil of Baradur. Following Ochazuke's line of sight, Held could see what it was he was attempting to trace.

"The Gift of Auroc. It's making its way back to where it came from," he muttered. "Were he a god rather than a Majin, perhaps he'd do little more than corrupt what was not his. Take what was already created and remake it to suit his designs."

The signature of this energy was by now unmistakable, and the wayfinder Ochazuke had once used to find the Doctor was now keyed into this presence. He'd spent all day after the battle throwing it from the possessed bodies of the Faithful that this lingering essence reached back to its master.

"What he gives he will take back for himself, it's only a matter of willing it."

[Miburo]

A short distance outside of where the Galloping was docked, Held would find Zaofan and two of the Nevadian Expedition nestled on the stone grounds of the temple huddled in a circle with a group of the locals. Shuffling and hurried whispers passed between clique to clique, the familiar blips of the Universal Translators on the ears of his subordinates sorting syntax; the more they conversed and inferred, the more data they had to firm up communication...and the hustle. It seemed the Chef was in a negotiation with an elder matronly sort, who held a large stone molcahete containing a savoury paste, and large earthenware jar about as large as she was tall. Two capsules clinked in Zaofan's hand like dice, and he raised the other, holding up a count of fingers..

Two.

The Matron turned to the others and muttered, shaking her head, before returning the gesture.

Three.

Folding his arms, Zaofan sighed, then nodded, and produced a third capsule, then reached over and shook her hand, which she seemed, at first, quite uncomfortable with, but slowly thawed as the prizes were exchanged.

"Ah, Held! You're just in time!" His words were mildly slurry, the Nevadian company raising stone goblets filled with as sweet as it was stiff. Wrapping an arm around the back of his neck, Zaofan laughed as he shared the fruits of his trade.

Ah. The art of the Bargain. Held had no idea what was transpiring between Baradurian and human, but he certainly knew the bartering system when he saw it.

"I can always sense when the fun is getting ready to start." Held replied with a smile, pleased to see his friend in such good spirits, "So, in that sense at least, my timing is without equal."

He turned, taking in the festive atmosphere that exuded from the group. Warriors, Explorers, and Navigators all, but in this moment, simply living beings enjoying a reprieve from the toils of their mission.

"You gotta try this, it's like guac but the heat, that's stuff that's local," he beamed, swiping a hunk of flatbread into a bowl, "The Chief's mother said she wouldn't part with the secret, but would let me try to figure it out in exchange for some kitchen steel and two kegs."

Suspiciously, he made no mention of the sealed jug the Navigator crew was pouring out around them. A sharp, acetone-sweet smell carried such pungency that it hit the palate without a sip, and the notes of earth and grass took root even in the absence of a single drop.

"You really know how to sell me on something, don't you?" The Nevadian set down the large bottle he had carried to the group, grabbing the sustenance that had been offered, before dipping it in the paste Zaofan spoke so highly of.

He put it to his mouth, biting off a large portion of the flatbread.

He instantly began clearing his throat, coughing slightly.

"Oh. Oh---" He coughed once more, his eyes widening slightly, "Oh ****."

Heat was a bit of an understatement, with the blazing flame---as the Nevadian now knew that he and his friend had a very different definition of 'heat'---that danced within his mouth, a mixture of savory and spicy, of pleasure and torment.

The flame slowly began to win out, consuming his taste buds like a raging inferno in a forest fire---Where the hell was the water? Or whatever it was that these masochists were drinking to soothe the fires of Baradur made manifest in this meal?

He spotted the jug that sat in the middle of the group, vaguely able to detect to natural earthen scent immigrating from it, even as his senses were recovering from the ambush implemented on his taste buds.

"Does a man have to die to get a drink around here?" He asked, half jokingly as he cleared his throat, "Or is there some right of passage burning bread thing no one told me about before I took a bite?"

A bit further away, Captain Ulysses stood in conversation with Ochazuke. The Navigator looked up in disbelief at something, while the martial artist stood firm, and pointed the way, until the former broke away.

"Forgive me if I don't join you and the boys, Admiral," Ulysses myttered. "More work to do. Pointing the way on a compass is one thing, but we're not exactly planetside. Out there the stars aren't static, and now we have to account for whole new ones to plot our course."

He sighed, and began tallying what input they had since landing on Baradur. "But they're all vectors to me, I'll see what I can put together. We found this place after all, so if your man's as good as he was before, we'll find it."

"I don't envy you two." Held replied, regaining his composure for a moment, "I guess I get the easy part of the job, eh? Write a few checks, a few dozen reports about your tasks, and then fly down and kick a belligerent or two in the head."

He paused, frowning. "Actually, no...I'll likely have to do a few reports about your report as well...." he shrugged, "Still, I suppose I can't very well sit and complain about such things while you're both hard at work."

....Still, some part of me would rather be doing that...Atleast it's something of use. Half my time I'm stuck playing politics or bureaucrat. I didn't realize my command would be so constrained. Then again, as things are, it can't be helped until I manage to gain more influence...Which this whole thing probably will help with.

"I guess I'll do my part for the effort and have a drink for the both of you, if that's the case." He replied to his own excellent humor with a laugh, "I suppose that's the burden of higher command, eh? None of the work and all of the credit? All of the enjoyment seems fitting as well..."

On that note....I hope that geezer manages to come through and helps me mitigate the blow back from this. This was the right call, but I don't know if the others will see taking Blacktongue and the priestess prisoner as proper diplomacy....

"After all, a little R&R goes along way for your team, I imagine. You've been grinding things out for sometime now...." He sighed slightly, "And not to kill the moment, but I feel this might be the easy part, the prelude, even."

There's no way Auroc could overlook such an insult to his pride, and the closer we get to him, the more resistance we'll encounter...Each bread crumb only leads us into more danger, into a diversion and proves that he should take us seriously...

"I'd hope we can jump straight to the climax sooner, rather than later, but we're rarely that lucky."

Standing against the inky sky, only grounded torches for light in the ruin of the Ziggurat, Ochazuke held the Black Sphere of Elder Nail in his hand, seeming to fruitlessly measure the distance between himself and the stars, silent as he examined a subtler thing in the air.

A residual energy trail. To the naked eye it would exist only as sure as smoke thinned by a stiff breeze, but assuredly the Shingan still picked up on what was there. It had consumed the flesh and minds of the faithful, and even now it still clung to the soil of Baradur. Following Ochazuke's line of sight, Held could see what it was he was attempting to trace.

"The Gift of Auroc. It's making its way back to where it came from," he muttered. "Were he a god rather than a Majin, perhaps he'd do little more than corrupt what was not his. Take what was already created and remake it to suit his designs."

The signature of this energy was by now unmistakable, and the wayfinder Ochazuke had once used to find the Doctor was now keyed into this presence. He'd spent all day after the battle throwing it from the possessed bodies of the Faithful that this lingering essence reached back to its master.

"What he gives he will take back for himself, it's only a matter of willing it."

"I suppose we should be thankful he's so self absorbed." Held replied, his attention drawn to the ambient energy that heralded Auroc's power, even with his believers could not. It may have went unseen to many, but not to those assembled. And even to those unable to see it, they certainly felt it, either during the frantic battle, or more intimately, as it crushed their minds and spirits beneath its weight, subjugating them entirely.

Even now, Held was only vaguely aware of Ochazukes means, tracing things that were esoteric and unseen to even to the potent techniques of the Shingan. Held may have possessed sight beyond sight, but Ochazuke employed a sense very different, that Held could only detect on the periphery of his awareness.

"After all, if anyone can follow his slimy tendrils back to their source, I'd think you two can."

[Cleric of Hell’s Brigade]

OT: While we wait, let’s keep things going with a bit of character time.

IC:

Eva stares out into the sky, eyes faintly glowing with strange power. Behind her, the M Fighters gather and prepare. Any minute once their last minute training is done they’ll depart for far shores, and not for the first time Eva silently curses what has befallen those she considers family.

Her mind goes back, recalling the fallen and missing, the retired and those yet to come as her gaze pierces the clouds of time momentarily.

Fate and Time. Old strings she’s familiar with pulling against. She doesn’t know who the strange Kai was that bestowed her this ability, but if it can help her family, she’ll use it, and damn the consequences.