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Date Posted: 18:20:01 08/26/02 Mon
Author: Redwood, Washi, Gutadrae
Subject: Enter the Big Kahuna! *GONG* And her stalker... =O,o=

The burly Korat lopes through the last stretch of the expansive brown desert, her frigid blue eyes finally catching sight of the Den. I had to take the long way, didn't I? she mutters to herself, grinning nonetheless at the rich plethora of scents wafting to her moist nose on the breeze. TFD, her sons, Seleth, Devan. An Aya, something unreadable - a cross between Korat and Canis?, something akin to a Canoid, and another Korat, probably her son's cubhood friend. Then, a slight variation in this last scent brings the powerful red to a dead stop, eyes bugging from her skull and ears swept back, matte black claws impaling the dusty earth. "What the btsa?!" she swears outloud, still out of hearing distance from the Den. Carefully now, she leans forward, taking small delicate inhalations of the dry air, sorting molecules of scent. Her ears flare upright as she confirms the fact - there is a pregnant Korat female in there. Ears flatten. Flare. Flatten. Tailblade swings erratically behind her, then flashes in the bright sunlight. Flash. Flare. Flash. Flatten. Then, Redwood gives her thick hide a twitch, and trains her nose to Akartis' scent. Sure enough, his scent has changed minutely. Enough to signify his attachment to Ayrist, the black female. The pregnant black female. For a long moment, the red doesn't know what to make of this. Her eldest son has a mate. And soon will have cubs. The Original stares at the still-distant Den, blinking rapidly, before a hearty laugh ends her silence. The little cresh! Roaring her mirth for a good five minutes (which some keen-eared Den occupants might be able to catch), the Korat shakes her heavy muzzle, grinning. "Akartis, I'm going to flay your hide, and your mate's as well! It certainly took you long enough!" Chuckling to herself, an abrupt wind-change brings a foreign and rather close scent to her nostrils and she spins her muscular frame, spotting a brilliantly-hued canine loping towards her.

Washi pants, used to heat and work, but not such prolonged exertion in dry, lifeless desert. His broad, flame-hued paws pound the earth, cherry-red fur shimmering with the heat waves as he looks down at his travel-dusty forelegs. Emerald eyes sparkle with amusement before he raises his proud muzzle again, and flaps multi-colored wings to generate a little more wind. Tangerine, golden, and blaze-red feathers shake off accumulated dust, briefly lift the Canis-Warrior off the ground, and then furl. The male falls the necessary foot, not breaking stride. Ah, there. His eyesight, never the best but sufficient in the worlds he's been to, locks onto a rust-red form. Redwood. Grinning and lowering his plumed, golden-bladed tail, he slows to a trot, and then to a walk, as he nears the massive Korat. Once a few meters away, Washi stops, bowing his head but not letting his gaze drift from the Governor. "Governor, my name is Washi. I don't know if the news has reached you, but Sake has passed." Grief threatens to rise to the surface, but the male forcefully supresses it. "She was a dear friend of mine, and trained me in her arts. I offer my services to replace that which you've lost. I freely admit that I am nowhere near her expertise, but I can help."

Redwood cocks her head and raises one furred brow. "I was unaware that our Wolven seer had passed." The red drops her muzzle and tail for a brief moment in respect before raising them again. "There is no time to mourn. We are at war, Washi. I will need your senses, if Sake trained you."

The cherry-furred male nods. "I know you're in a hurry, but I would dearly like to know the situation. Sake summoned me here and I came as quickly as I could. She probably knew that her time was approaching, though I daresay she pushed herself too far and sank before she had planned."

Redwood regards the smaller male, then lifts her lip in a slight grin. "We are at war with a species called Drakka. No details are known yet, I'm going to get those momentarily in the Den, which is headquarters for Terole's government. I am Governor, and there are a few Guardians - The Five Deaths, Mystery Deathsong, Devan, Shaekara. My son, Akartis, is Junior Governor, and Seleth, a Canis, is official diplomat. I don't know how many of the Guardians are still on this planet, as I myself arrived from Lavana a little while ago. I've not had time to check on everyone--"

Washi interrupts, though a respectful expression saves him from getting his skull knocked. "I can tell if they are here, if you wish."

Redwood blinks, then nods. "Then do so."

The Canis-Warrior closes those glimmering green eyes and concentrates, sinking to a level of consciousness much more receptive to energy. Almost like concentrating on a single scent, his mind focuses on each Guardian in turn, either locating or not their spirit. "Devan and The Five Deaths are in the Den. I do not sense Shaekara on the planet, and Mystery Deathsong's trail is very faint. She may be hidden, or she has left. I suspect the latter." Cocking his head slightly, the male looks up at the Governor for her reaction.

The Korat grins. "Good. I already knew Devan and TFD were there. Possibly you did as well, depending on how good your sense of smell is. The rest of your briefing can wait, as I'm going to run down the situation with the rest of the group in the Den." She reaches out her tailblade and holds it in an upwards-arc before Washi's muzzle. "Touch blades," she instructs firmly.

The Canis blinks at the razor-sharp length of bone held near his face, but reaches out with his own golden blade and gently clinks his against the Korat's.

"I appoint you Librarian and seer," Redwood rumbles, then grins. "Come on. I'm probably late by now." Without further ado, she turns and rockets towards the Den, actually employing some speed to do so, clawed paws punching tattoos into the sandy soil.

Washi bows his head, and as he looks back up, the Korat is already away and running. With a mental sigh but a grin, he kicks his own body into motion, half-flaring his wings to tunnel the wind and give him some momentum. Though he can't delete the red's initial head-start, he does keep pace, a few dozen meters behind her.

The Original slows at the entrance to the Den, giving those within a very devilish grin as she saunters in. Spotting Collie and Esaki, she arches a brow, before noting the canine's scent-resemblance to her old Guardian. Sending a ripple through her thick red fur with each step, the powerful Korat stops and faces the half-circle of Terolians. "Welcome to the Den, my friends," she rumbles, grinning. "Behind me is Washi, newly-appointed Librarian. Sake has died, and though I wish I had more information about her passing, I do not. There is no time to mourn. We have a war on our paws, hooves, talons, and what have you, to deal with. For those who didn't know, TFD is now a Guardian. Mystery Deathsong and Shaekara seem to have disappeared, and soon enough I'll see if they're still on-planet." [Aka if they sign the active check or not.]

The brightly-furred Canis-Warrior trots in, bobbing his head respectfully to all within the Den. Casting his emerald gaze around the circle, the sight of a fellow Canis is welcome indeed. Plumed tail half-wagging, he carefully goes around Redwood and settles himself near Seleth, wings furled against his flanks and eyes on the Governor attentively.

The red Korat pauses, then grins intensely. "I hate mincing words, so let's get down to business. The Olashi and Adochi fleets are barely keeping the Drakka off Lavana, Base, Raobé, and Station. Terole, once again, is on her own. This time we actually have some real pilots on our sides, with working ships." Her eyes sweep to her younger son, Gutadrae, then back to the group as a whole. "This is my son, Gutadrae." Luckily, she doesn't add the -l on the end. "He is the bearer of bad news and so will give additional information now." With a wave of her polished tailblade, the Governor gives the stage to her son.

Gutadrae doesn't look the least bit surprised, only reserved as he stands and makes his way to his mother's side. She, in turn, moves into the 'audience', in fact, directly beside Ayrist. The pale gold Korat, eyes so like Redwood's, speaks clearly and rather emotionlessly.

"The Olashi force, when they lost contact with both Terole and the ship they sent to retrieve a crashed pilot, decided to revert to more esoteric communication. Thus they called for me, and for a Portal. This is how I came here. However, Terole's silence is the least of their worries." The adolescent pauses and flicks one narrow ear. "Drakka are esh-ugly, four-armed bipeds with seriously advanced weaponry and shielding technology. Our stranded Olashi, judging her age, has probably trained in holosims against this race. Her knowledge is invaluable at this point. However, the Olashi did give me some information. Drakka use two types of ships in battle - a garishly yellow, triangular ship, and a slimmer, black ship. The yellowship is average, is heavily armored, and nearly impenetrable. Its weapons are average, but considering the difficulty in shooting it down, the weapons are definitely a danger. They have both energy-cannons and solid missiles. The blackships, which the Adochi refer to as hunterships, are far more deadly. They, though as armored as the yellowships, are smooth and silent, with powerful engines and even more powerful weapons. No Olashi nor Adochi ship can outrun or outfight these hunterships, unless its an Adochi huntership armed with anti-matter weapons - a new style of weaponry developed by fighting Drakka in deep space and learning. However, this weapon cannot be mass-produced and so is basically useless to us as Terolians. Drakka are decent pilots, scorning maneuverability, and preferring strength and, in the case of hunterships, speed. I have no information as to possible allies, nor the Drakka's physical description. The latter is probably well-known by the Olashi on-world."

During Gu's briefing, Redwood settles next to the black female, tossing her an icy-eyed glare before muttering in Koratian, -You had best continue my Line well, Ayrist. If you do not, expect my disapproval to be immediate and violent.- But that's all the red says, a quick promise to the black made, and a small, fanged grin settled on her thick muzzle as she listens to her son speak. When he's done, she nods and rises, padding to his side gracefully. The Original faces the group, keen eyes peering into every gaze. "That's the situation. Mull over that for a moment."

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