Lord Commander Aleron Siental
The gentle hunter
An Aftermathiano nobleman, many often consider him a lost and wandering spirit. His narrow eyes the colour of cold ashes had watched the many wars that engulfed his planet and the sector, they had had quite an effect on him. He drew back the thick grey cloth of his hood revealing his fine, straight, ebony hair worn in a style reminiscent of a jackal's ears. Despite his broad-shouldered build he stood out strongly from his Aftermathiano guards with his pale untanned skin and weak chin. He easily drew attention to himself as he entered the censorium. Nearby his trusted duty bound bodyguard Briand Corbrunson; a brutal master of hand-to-hand combat, stood like a giant, protectively warding away passersby with fierce and threatening facial expressions and bulging arm muscles from his perpetually clenched fists.
The scratching of quills purred like waves at the shore as the numberless bureaucrats resumed their tasks. His eye glew green from the sheer amount information as Siental saw the ebb and flow of messages shooting about the hall through an ancient eyepiece that highlighted and diagnosed relevant information. Silently a senior prefect was summoned to Siental, the wizened hunchback hid it's discomfort of having to leave it's privileged post, crossing the crowded floor past the long banks of lower ranked scribes. "My majesty," The prefect obediently bowed as it approached the lord commander. "How may I serve you."
Siental spoke nicely. "Inquiries department?"
The prefect blinked, his shoulders sagged a little more before it regained composure. "Certainly," He bowed again, "this way." Without turning away the prefect led the lord commander down through the to the inquiries department himself.
Promptly Siental politely thanked and dismissed the prefect, the high ranking administrum official looked slightly disconcerted but bowed once more before it retreated.
Too long had Siental let his duties lie, he had withdrawn himself from the public more and more, his absence had been felt right across the sector as disorder consumed planet after planet and heretical cults spread openly. While he still hadn't come to terms with past events, newer events surpassed these horrors, he couldn't let this continue. Maybe by acting he will find the self peace he'd been looking for.
Briand nodded to him, the office had been checked. As Siental entered, the clerk was rectifying the mess caused in the security search, returning several data slates and scrolls to the small desk that it stood behind. On seeing the Pax Aftermath the seal of the Lord Commander it immediately halted. "What is it that you wish, my majesty." It's bow was much lower than the prefects had been, maybe it was the nimbleness of youth or a more humble position within the hierarchy. Siental briefly pondered before he gave his answer.
"Information on the Prox War and status of the paradise world of Ignus."
The clerk nodded and gently sat down on a bureau chair, taking up a quill he wrote up the request on the writing desks hololithic. The light danced like spattering ink, the bright orange glow traced a trail in the air before fading away.
Siental's eyepiece lit up. A thousand scribes were reassigned to process the request and dozens more to sort the paper work for reassigning them, cutting the red tape caused more red tape for someone else to deal with. This mattered little to Siental, other than the pretty patterns caused by the cascading effect reminded him of a particular hard rain, and its splashing in a reflecting pool of a place he hadn't been in a long time.
He stared down into the water as a child again, in the ruins of the peace garden, his dark frockcoat drenched. He felt a shadow fall over him as Corbrunson sheltered him with an umbrella. He glanced up at the grizzled veteran, who seemed more solemn then he'd known.
Corbrunson spoke as softly as he could as he delivered the news but there was little he could do with his gruff voice to soften the blow. "Aleron, your brother Aalbert died this morning of his wounds. Your brothers are all dead. You are the Lord Sector."
Siental could feel his eyes well up as he returned to stare at the water. He'd loved his brothers dearly and now they were all gone, stolen from him. Yet now he was wanted to take their place, the youngest of the four, the last heir. He blinked and the acid rain stun his eyes.
A tear rolled down Siental's cheek as the clerk repeated something to him. Bleary eyed Siental motioned for the clerk to speak again.
"My apologies Lord Commander, but I do not have the authority to fulfil your request." the clerk moved it's hands pleadingly as if in prayer. "I have however arranged for transport for you to be taken to ministry servants who will be able handle your request."
Siental nodded, "Briand?"
"My people are verifying the route now." Corbrunson glared untrustingly at the clerk. "We'll be able to leave whenever you are ready."
Exiting the department office, Siental was greeted by the senior prefect, now looking much more confident with his simple errand as a guide. Obviously they were going to see someone very important if even the prefect couldn't officiate it. He followed the prefect through the dusty corridors to a small vehicle bay. They made their way out to a large wheel-less jeep, a blue armoured door was opened for him. He didn't want to see the bullet riddled versions in the back of his mind so Siental refused to close his eyes. He carefully climbed in, as Corbrunson dropped in beside him vigilant as always. Eyeing the skyline Corbrunson cursed at the driver "Zthrone, get moving already." Briand never felt comfortable in the open, Siental had never asked why, he knew he wouldn't get an answer anyway.
The sound of turbines whirled beneath them, he could feel the vehicle shift as a cushion of air pushed it slightly off the ground, with a mild jolt the jeep sped forward out of the courtyard and onto the hive roads of A1. Peering out of a vision slot he watched the murky yellow lit streets fleeter by. Wondrous architecture blended smoothly with the centuries of improvised additions, repairs and maintenance. A recently fallen flying buttress had been quickly bridged and now supported a small community whose shanty lodgings had sprouted up like poppies. He thought of how amidst the rubble far below would sit the wealth of the previous community shattered on the ruins of those that had fallen before them. Siental smiled, these acts of perseverance from the hivers gave him hope, even with how filthy they looked.
The jeep soon pulled in through a gate, Siental recognised the old STC Administratum building with it's small Georgian windows puncturing the walls between broad arch topped columns and more importantly the large imperial eagle over the main door.
The breeze blew swiftly here, he could feel it on his face as he climbed out of the vehicle, Siental pulled his hood up and passing Corbrunson's unmarked men whom watched from the shadows, headed straight for the entrance.
The gentle hunter
An Aftermathiano nobleman, many often consider him a lost and wandering spirit. His narrow eyes the colour of cold ashes had watched the many wars that engulfed his planet and the sector, they had had quite an effect on him. He drew back the thick grey cloth of his hood revealing his fine, straight, ebony hair worn in a style reminiscent of a jackal's ears. Despite his broad-shouldered build he stood out strongly from his Aftermathiano guards with his pale untanned skin and weak chin. He easily drew attention to himself as he entered the censorium. Nearby his trusted duty bound bodyguard Briand Corbrunson; a brutal master of hand-to-hand combat, stood like a giant, protectively warding away passersby with fierce and threatening facial expressions and bulging arm muscles from his perpetually clenched fists.
The scratching of quills purred like waves at the shore as the numberless bureaucrats resumed their tasks. His eye glew green from the sheer amount information as Siental saw the ebb and flow of messages shooting about the hall through an ancient eyepiece that highlighted and diagnosed relevant information. Silently a senior prefect was summoned to Siental, the wizened hunchback hid it's discomfort of having to leave it's privileged post, crossing the crowded floor past the long banks of lower ranked scribes. "My majesty," The prefect obediently bowed as it approached the lord commander. "How may I serve you."
Siental spoke nicely. "Inquiries department?"
The prefect blinked, his shoulders sagged a little more before it regained composure. "Certainly," He bowed again, "this way." Without turning away the prefect led the lord commander down through the to the inquiries department himself.
Promptly Siental politely thanked and dismissed the prefect, the high ranking administrum official looked slightly disconcerted but bowed once more before it retreated.
Too long had Siental let his duties lie, he had withdrawn himself from the public more and more, his absence had been felt right across the sector as disorder consumed planet after planet and heretical cults spread openly. While he still hadn't come to terms with past events, newer events surpassed these horrors, he couldn't let this continue. Maybe by acting he will find the self peace he'd been looking for.
Briand nodded to him, the office had been checked. As Siental entered, the clerk was rectifying the mess caused in the security search, returning several data slates and scrolls to the small desk that it stood behind. On seeing the Pax Aftermath the seal of the Lord Commander it immediately halted. "What is it that you wish, my majesty." It's bow was much lower than the prefects had been, maybe it was the nimbleness of youth or a more humble position within the hierarchy. Siental briefly pondered before he gave his answer.
"Information on the Prox War and status of the paradise world of Ignus."
The clerk nodded and gently sat down on a bureau chair, taking up a quill he wrote up the request on the writing desks hololithic. The light danced like spattering ink, the bright orange glow traced a trail in the air before fading away.
Siental's eyepiece lit up. A thousand scribes were reassigned to process the request and dozens more to sort the paper work for reassigning them, cutting the red tape caused more red tape for someone else to deal with. This mattered little to Siental, other than the pretty patterns caused by the cascading effect reminded him of a particular hard rain, and its splashing in a reflecting pool of a place he hadn't been in a long time.
He stared down into the water as a child again, in the ruins of the peace garden, his dark frockcoat drenched. He felt a shadow fall over him as Corbrunson sheltered him with an umbrella. He glanced up at the grizzled veteran, who seemed more solemn then he'd known.
Corbrunson spoke as softly as he could as he delivered the news but there was little he could do with his gruff voice to soften the blow. "Aleron, your brother Aalbert died this morning of his wounds. Your brothers are all dead. You are the Lord Sector."
Siental could feel his eyes well up as he returned to stare at the water. He'd loved his brothers dearly and now they were all gone, stolen from him. Yet now he was wanted to take their place, the youngest of the four, the last heir. He blinked and the acid rain stun his eyes.
A tear rolled down Siental's cheek as the clerk repeated something to him. Bleary eyed Siental motioned for the clerk to speak again.
"My apologies Lord Commander, but I do not have the authority to fulfil your request." the clerk moved it's hands pleadingly as if in prayer. "I have however arranged for transport for you to be taken to ministry servants who will be able handle your request."
Siental nodded, "Briand?"
"My people are verifying the route now." Corbrunson glared untrustingly at the clerk. "We'll be able to leave whenever you are ready."
Exiting the department office, Siental was greeted by the senior prefect, now looking much more confident with his simple errand as a guide. Obviously they were going to see someone very important if even the prefect couldn't officiate it. He followed the prefect through the dusty corridors to a small vehicle bay. They made their way out to a large wheel-less jeep, a blue armoured door was opened for him. He didn't want to see the bullet riddled versions in the back of his mind so Siental refused to close his eyes. He carefully climbed in, as Corbrunson dropped in beside him vigilant as always. Eyeing the skyline Corbrunson cursed at the driver "Zthrone, get moving already." Briand never felt comfortable in the open, Siental had never asked why, he knew he wouldn't get an answer anyway.
The sound of turbines whirled beneath them, he could feel the vehicle shift as a cushion of air pushed it slightly off the ground, with a mild jolt the jeep sped forward out of the courtyard and onto the hive roads of A1. Peering out of a vision slot he watched the murky yellow lit streets fleeter by. Wondrous architecture blended smoothly with the centuries of improvised additions, repairs and maintenance. A recently fallen flying buttress had been quickly bridged and now supported a small community whose shanty lodgings had sprouted up like poppies. He thought of how amidst the rubble far below would sit the wealth of the previous community shattered on the ruins of those that had fallen before them. Siental smiled, these acts of perseverance from the hivers gave him hope, even with how filthy they looked.
The jeep soon pulled in through a gate, Siental recognised the old STC Administratum building with it's small Georgian windows puncturing the walls between broad arch topped columns and more importantly the large imperial eagle over the main door.
The breeze blew swiftly here, he could feel it on his face as he climbed out of the vehicle, Siental pulled his hood up and passing Corbrunson's unmarked men whom watched from the shadows, headed straight for the entrance.
