World Tree MUSH

    Following the investigation of the aquatic research laboratory, Aranea and Jai-el, naturally, got back onto the Gungnir, her signature red ship, with the intent to return to Niflheim to deliver the goods, and then probably drop Jai-el off to wherever she wants to be next. If anywhere.

    It's a pretty long trip, though; a few hours, give or take one depending on the Tree's cooperation. The magitek ship isn't exactly a luxury cruise either. This is a dropship, not a dreadnought filled with accomodations for soldiers. It's got a big cargo bay, a cockpit, and that's... really it. The cockpit's already occupied by two pilots, so that leaves the dragoon and the exile to sit in the cargo bay. There's crates of ammo and supplies that make for decent seating.

    Luckily the Force-user doesn't have eyes to worry about what a dull ship interior this is. Dark grey walls, and floors, and really, everything. Not a hint of fancy decorations anywhere. Definitely a ship designed with utility in mind, not form.

    Taking her helmet off, the dragoon hops back onto a crate and sits, leaning against the wall behind her, hands behind her head.

    "So that went pretty well. About a hundred percent less giant sea monster than expected. Not my worst outing."

    'Chiak-sul' had since made herself comfortable by simply enough sitting atop one of said crates, back straight, legs crossed with her hands on her legs. As ever she was eerily quiet and didn't seem to look around or 'face' anything at all other than straight forward. That black cloak of hers was drawn up entirely and not much of her showed beyond the lightly padded dress of sorts she had on that was a bit more field-utility than normal attire. Not to mention the featureless mask that didn't even have any place to see through.

    Having since taken back the previous communicator, with the question asked, one of her fingers twitches and the same small device floats out towards her once again. Typically worn over one eye, it could easily enough just be kept in hand and looked at if one insisted. And as she moved a finger about still, letters, and words, would begin to appear on the screen.

    A simple 'Indeed.'

    Aranea doesn't mind putting the communicator back on - she'd rather talk than not, even if it seemed like her companion didn't enjoy the sound of her own voice quite as much.

    Her head tilted slightly, to observe the Sith.

    "So I guess it's rude to ask, but what's with the no-speaking policy? Mute? Accident? Anonymity? Can't blame you either way, just the first time I have to work with someone like that. Sure makes an impression."

    She leans to the side a bit, to reach through a hole in the side of the crate she's on. She fiddles around in there until she finds what she's looking for, pulling out two cans of energy drink. Warm, but perfectly edible despite that.

    She lobs one towards Jai-el, without questioning if she'll bother catching it or not. She'd better, though, wasting a good drink is a crime.

    "How're you typing into the comms anyway?"

    the 'offered' energy drink stopped in the air just short of where she was and lowered itself down to her lap, where it came to rest between her crossed legs.

    'I cannot speak because of a painful lesson I learned in my reckless earlier years. I liked the sound of my own voice too much, and thought I was the biggest Rancor in the woods. Suffice it to say, there was a larger Rancor who did not like the sound of my voice, and took it from me instead of my head. Though I think they were aiming for my head, and not my neck.'

    A simple enough thing, and a sad truth in any world. Those who go looking for blood, find it. 'As for typing, that is a modified communication device. I engineered an all-in-one unit with a small typing device inside that I am able to manipulate and communicate digitally.'

    Overall, though, Chiak-sul had not moved. In fact, the only thing moving about her was that one finger moving slightly in various directions. 'You seemed to know there was no point in fighting the others abord the derelict station. You had a similar experience in pain, I assume? Such lessons rarely come free.'

    A curious eye watches the floating can. Magic? Something close enough as to not require a distinction? It's more interesting that the woman doesn't move an inch to do this. Or communicate.

    The story's unfortunate, too.

    "So pride before the fall, huh? Only thing left to do in a case like that is to make sure they regret taking your voice instead of your head. Hopefully you got that done," she answers, before laughing at the response-question.

    "Who, me? No such lessons or hardships. I just don't do things that aren't on my contract unless I really feel like it, and you might say my current employers aren't very good at motivating me to put in the extra hours. He wanted to know what was up, not for me to pile up bodies. Picking a fight would've made getting that done harder for no tangible benefit."

    In other words, simple pragmatism. And maybe just a bit of spite towards her current boss. Just a bit.

    "What about you? Freelancing or do you have someone over you who tells you what to do?"

    Beneath the mask, the woman smirked a little, amused at the response. It didn't show too much, however, as she finally moved. Her free hand reached to pick up the drink from where she was as she reached into her cloak to pull out... a straw. Why would this dark, seemingly powerful being carry around a straw? Likely also pragmatism! Probably easier to drink considering the injuries/mask.

    Though the taste of it confused her. 'What is this?' read across the device. 'I am unable to perceive color, so what I assume is a printed label on the can I cannot read. ...or even see if such is there or not. On which note, here." The drink was sat down and she held her hands out, floating over a few plaques she pulled from the walls of the facility. 'I was unsure if these would be of any use, or not. I know there is a piece of paper in them, but what the paper was I could not discern.' Of the various plaques with a glass cover on them, there was a couple that were simply printings of the various rules, and one that provided a very basic 'map' of the above-ground stuff, nothing classified. Just something one would know if they walked around the top floor that they were on and made their own map.

    'And as for me, I am a member of the Sith Empire. I still carry out the will of the late Sith Emperor, helping expand the Empires reach while trying to staunch the bleeding from whatever internal squabbles come up. Occasional supplying, go here and there to see what is needed, reach out in missions such as this to keep working contacts with outside nations in the Tree.'

    "Energy drink. Label says "Hi-Potion". It's a brand. Basically a bunch of artificial flavors with junky chemicals that keep you awake and aware. And sugar. Lots of sugar."

    Probably for the taste.

    Aranea rose from her crate to walk over to the plaques, inspecting them. "Looks like maps of the facility. Escape protocols if there's a fire. Stuff like that. Useful to have if we go a second time."

    Her head rises back up, to face the Sith. "Must be rough, being blind. Or at least blind enough you can't see colors. I'm guessing you can see or sense well enough to make up for it considering the way you move." Or don't move, as the case may be. Casual grabbing of that potion being an indicator.

    "'Nother empire then. So you're a bit of a do-everything sort. Yeah, seems keeping contracts thorough the 'Tree' is pretty important. I can't complain, it means more work and less time sitting around doing nothing." She just wishes the work was a nudge less daemon-centric. "Dead emperor though, that's gotta be rough. From the sounds of it nobody's stepped onto the throne yet either. I'm guessing everytime someone tries there's a whole lot of blood to clean up?"

    'Indeed, the quest for the throne is rather a bloody one. I have no interest in such a station, there are many rancors bigger than myself who would be happy to rip my head off for even trying. The Sith Empire values strength above all, generally. My own past is not a unique one. As a result, those who are vying for it are very much willing to destroy each other. Of course there are those who seek subterfuge, but I doubt they will get far beyond the powerful.'

    She didn't immediately remark about the being blind thing, perhaps leaving that bit unremarked on purposefully. 'Where I am from, the entire galaxy is at war. Though I have learned when traveling the tree not all are aware of the scope of such. The Sith Empire wars against the Republic, and their Jedi, yet growing on the side is a group who wants nothing to do with the violence. What will come of it is hard to say. Is yours a peaceful one, or wartorn as well?'

    "Succession wars, my favorite kind," Aranea says, voice dripping with sarcasm. She's not gotten to experience one, but history books never make them out to be pleasant.

    At the question, she takes a moment to think, though not very long. "Niflheim's internally pretty peaceful, I guess. I'm sure the folks over in Lucis think the same way. The two've been locked in this unending conflict for a long while though. Couldn't say who started it and who's right or wrong to keep it going. Lucis is hoarding some all-powerful artifacts and won't share them, meanwhile His Radiance just wants to sweep the entire world under his banner. We've got most of the world on lockdown already, but Lucis is powering some impenetrable barrier around its capital with said ancient artifacts. So the war's kind of in a stalemate."

    It's close enough to the truth. No matter how much they fight over fringe territories, neither side can decisively end the war right now.

    "So, close enough to your situation, but without the neutral third party. Imagine if one of those popped up in our world, it'd be swept aside by Niflheim before they could make much of an impression."

    'Sounds like the war between the Sith and the Jedi. As long back as one can remember, no clear sign of a start or a finish. I am sure there are those within the Empire who would be quite happy to learn about some all-powerful artifacts though.' There was a hint of 'That's a nice thing there, would be a shame if' but it didn't actually get /that/ far. As she sat there, she recalled seeing Aranea and began to look over her armor, legs and feet, trying to figure out in her own Miralukan way if there was some kind of technology in her armor. What allowed her to leap down like that? She appeared human by all accounts, but asking first might reveal less. No harm in just peeking for herself.

    Even if there was no outward signs of her doing such. 'You are welcome to take credit for all of the information we collected, if you so desire. I need no accolades. All I ask is you put in a good word for any trade deals that may arise beween mine and yours. And to keep myself, and us, in mind if you need any assistance in the future. Likewise we will the same?'

    Aranea's armor is definitely more than steel and cloth. There's technology in there, powered by small, well-hidden cores here and there - in the wrists, in the greaves, on her back. They don't feel right. It's probably hard to put a finger on it - but Jai-el might have gotten the same feeling from the ship's magitek engine already. That one is much more obvious.

    Her boots do seem to have spring-loaded mechanisms, but they couldn't possibly be the only reason she can jump like that. It's probably the cores. There's a field around her too, a sort of protective bubble. There too signs point at the energy sources in the armor being the cause.

    There's circuitry and power flowing through the entire suit - that it looks like any other suit of plate armor is a marvel of engineering. It's not quite as intricate a design as something like a lightsaber but it's pretty advanced.

    "Sorry, but I don't know the first thing about them myself. I just know there's a big crystal and a magic ring, and they're being used to make that Wall around Insomnia. Wouldn't be surprised if the top brass starts looking for allies who can deal with that. Not really my field though."

    A wide shrug. It really isn't.

    "Sure, though. The Chief Researcher is on some mad romp across worlds to find allies and new technologies, so you're probably already on his list anyway. Niflheim's not especially closed off to trade. Be a shame to make like Lucis and hide in a bubble when there's all that stuff out there."

    Although, come to think of it...

    "You mentioned a galaxy-wide conflict. Not gonna lie, having a hard time imagining that myself. Must be a pretty advanced culture."

    'A crystal, you say?' As that came on the screen, something came out from behind her back. Her hand - the right - moved slightly and raised. And as it did, a cylinder of some ornate, dark design came out floating from behind her up in front of Aranea. With a twist from sone unseen hand, it sprang out into the form of a pole of some make, which came apart and in the center a single crystal was left, 'Like this one?' It was a dark red crystal, palm-sized. 'As far as the scale, goes... think of cities where I am from the size of a planet, likely, where you are from. The entire Galaxy a nation at war with itself, with cities generally of the Republic, but it loosening the further from the center they are.'

    Aranea watches with interest as Jai-el just wills her strange weapon apart with such efficiency and precision. That's not just psychokinesis, that's something else alright. The crystal gleams, and she inspects it, before shrugging again.

    "I have no idea. I heard it was pretty big, but I've never seen it. I don't think most Lucians have seen it either. I doubt something that small could power the Wall, but what do I know about magical crystals and rings."

    Then onto the matter of scale, and the dragoon whistles, impressed. "You say all those words but it's pretty hard to picture it. I'll have to tag along on one of your missions next to see it myself. Must be impressive. And overwhelming. Can't fathom the amount of resources that'd have to go into an endeavor of that scale."

    The answer is a lot.
    Enough to make Niflheim's top scientists salivate.

    The ship rumbles, suddenly - glancing through the doorway leading into the cockpit, one can see that the sky has darkened outside, and ahead, Gralea, the imperial capital, can be seen.

    It probably looks a lot like Coruscant at night, but without the rainbow of colors - it's almost all yellow and white lights, uniform, giving the city this allure of a large shadow with countless little lights in it. In the center of the city is a massive circular building floating in the air, connected to the ground only by a very tall elevator.

    Aranea takes a look, then turns back to the Sith. "Looks like we're here early. Vines must have been decently placed for a change. Let me go hand in the hard drives we got and we can go catch a real drink if you're up for it."