Interlude – Welcome to the Family (part 2)
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson & Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Lieutenant JG Taleria von Alesk & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Colonel James Darson & Lieutenant Commander Jarred Wallace & Commander Richard Dunham & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC)
Post Details
Darson looked over to the Romulan Security Chief and bowed his head respectfully, “Arrain, I will have to politely decline. Leaving aside the fact that the Ambassador and I have achieved a certain level of trust from our dealings, and that I am a serving military line officer and thus obviously not an assassin come to claim the lives of your guests... this weapon is ceremonial in nature, and is incapable of harming anybody here.
"You and the Ambassador may have a certain level of trust but you and I don't, and it is I who is in charge of security here, not the Ambassador," Arrienye pointed out. "And if the weapon is unable to harm anyone, and you are not the Master of Ceremonies, then I see no problem why you shouldn't be handing it over."
Darson shook his head, “No, seriously…It’s incapable of harming anybody here. Watch,” he placed his hand on the hilt inlaid with precious gems which glowed slightly under his hand and gave it a couple of hard tugs. Nothing happened and the sword remained firmly in its sheath, “You see? It can’t be drawn. I picked this artifact up on my travels a long time ago…I don’t know its name, where was forged, or even how old it it…most importantly, I never discovered the secret of how to unsheathe it. All I know is that it’s incredibly beautiful…and it looks good on my belt,” Mostly lies. But not ones that would concern t’Merek. Darson was here to help out a little bit, even though they didn’t know it. And he had given his word to Isha that he would cause no disruptions…unless somebody started one first.
“But if you’re doubtful,” he said in a whimsical tone, “perhaps you would like to try it yourself?” He placed the glass down and pulled the sword from his belt, turning it around and proffering the hilt to t’Merek, “Give it a try” The jewels on the handle clouded as if upset, and the sword itself gave out an ominous aura.
Arrienye's blue eyes looked down at the weapon's hilt. She couldn't explain it but it didn't look inviting, at all. But she wasn't one to be afraid so, giving the man in armor a quick, slightly quizzical 'You're up to something, I know it' glance, Arrienye reached out to closed her hand around it.
Gregori watched with a certain amount of delight at the exchange between the Marine who thought he was a superhero and the beautiful, if insanely uptight, Romulan woman. He'd seen another sword like this before, long ago, probably before either of them were even thought of, and he knew how to draw it, but it was much more fun to watch them.
As soon as she grabbed onto the hilt, there was an enormous psychic roar, and in t’Merek’s eyes, a menacing presence was felt, reaching out to her with ethereal claws through the hilt of the sword, up her arms, chilling the blood in her veins and towards her head when all of sudden…
“That’s quite enough of that,” Darson quipped as he removed her hand from the blade with the hand that wasn’t holding onto it. As she stumbled slightly back he examined the sword, “So…you felt it?”
Arrienye looked up at him, her blue eyes fiery and accusatory.
“Of the many things in my collection from my journeys through the infinite cosmos,” Darson said in a thoughtful tone, “this is I think one of the most evil things I’ve ever collected. It a malevolent sword indeed…one that recognizes only one wielder at a time. As well, you must have the…disposition…to wield it, or it will consume you. I handed the sword to three people before I figured that out. All of them were confiscating my weapon, and let me tell you…the end result wasn’t pretty.”
He slid over to Gregori and placed his arm around his shoulder leaning in close enough to his face that if he hadn’t had his mask on, Gregori could feel his breath, “But you…you had a look in your eye while we were doing that little test with his sword…what was that about I wonder?” The light glinted off the monocle he was wearing as he examined Gregori with suspicion.
“I know!” Darson suddenly shouted pointing an accusing finger at him, “You want me to regale you with the tale of exactly how I came by this sword, don’t you? Well, considering this is a party and I’m in a good mood, I will oblige you!”
He turned to the others and said in a dramatic tone, “Now then, prepare yourselves for an epic story of suspense, intrigue and shocking details! And let me assure you all that this story is a hundred percent true. Once upon a time, which shall remain vague because the operation is still classified, there was a Marine named James Darson. ME! It was back during the Dominion war, during the stale mate between both sides after Benjamin Sisko retook Deep Space 9. I was assigned to lead a small team to destroy a Cardassian outpost on a remote front-line location. I had with me a single ship, and a squad of Marines.”
He began acting out the story using sweeping hand gestures and sound effects, “We came out of warp on the far side of the solar system, hoping to use the solar interference to mask our approach. But alas, it was in vain! We tripped a Cardassian Sensor Net, and their ships came out in force. We performed evasive maneuvers, but to no avail. Sustaining critical damage, we all boarded escape pods and abandoned ship as it broke apart around us,” he recreated this using several h’ordurves from a passing waiter.
“We fell to the surface, landing in a mountainous area. Most of my men were captured and summarily executed…oh, the humanity of it all! But I alone was able to escape. I hid for three nights and three days in a river. On the fourth day, I snuck around and discovered that there was an entire armored battalion stationed there. As I was planning my solo assault, I accidentally fell into a cavernous ravine, falling all the way to bottom!” He flipped where he stood and ended up on his back on the floor staring up at the ceiling and the crowd of people that were assembling around them.
“So there I was…stuck at the bottom of the canyon, quite literally between a rock and a hard place. So what did I do? I’ll tell you what I did. I dug my way out,” he jumped to his feet and held his hands out in front of him, “With my bare hands!!!!”
After a couple of hours of digging, I found myself in a series of catacombs under the mountain range…they were in horrible condition. But passable. So what did I do? I passed through them of course! Deeper and deeper I went through the labyrinth, exploring every corner of what would have been an archeologists wet dream. But then I came to a closed door surrounded by skeletons adorned with writing that my seemed to indicate that the door should not be opened. So of course I opened it.”
He buried his head in his hands and moved closer to Chelsea and Dunham, “But what awaited me on the other side of that door was more horrible than I could have ever imagined! It was a beast, massive and feral…over five meters tall and swathed in fire, darkness and shadows. It wielded a stone axe and an enormous deadly whip made of fire!” He gently grabbed a red shawl from one of the guests who had gathered around to listen and wished it around through the air, making cracking noises.
“In this beast I had finally met my match. I fought with him for two days, before finally destroying him. I lured him onto a thin bridge, and while he was on it, I blew it up with carefully placed explosives. As he tumbled into the abyss, his gut wrenching screams bit at me.” He shook his head sadly.
“But whatever,” he said cheerfully, “He was trying to kill me. Regardless! As horrific as that was, it was nothing compared to what was to come. I continued on for another day and eventually ended up at the bottom of the catacombs. It was a tomb, surrounded by a deep pool of dark water. I crossed to it, began to examine it. It was filled with…well, what it was filled with is not important. What is important is that among the items I found, there was this sword,” he touched the hilt which glowed under his touch.
“I appraised it from all angles, before taking it up. IT WAS THEN,” he suddenly shouted, throwing his arms up in the air, “That I was overcome by a horrendous feeling as the sword I had just picked up tried to overwhelm my very soul. It is also that exact moment that I was set upon by a vicious horde of the undead,” he began to walk around with his arms out in front of him in the style of a zombie, “all of them trying to get their hands on my delicious innards.”
He knelt down to a child, “So there I was…completely incapacitated, out manned, out positioned, surrounded on all sides by that which cannot die. They clawed their way up to the tomb from the pool, grotesque things, groaning…oh the groans! They were horrible. But as things were at their bleakest…” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks as he dusted himself off, the medals jangling. He stared across the room at something then turned back to his audience.
“So in the end I wrested control of the sword, made the undead my minions and proceeded to crush the entire outpost with them along with the armored battalion. It was during that conflict that I earned one of my legendary reputations, as the Necromancer of Morian III! How Glorious it was. And thats how I got my sword."
"I'm going to get another drink." Said Dunham after the 'story' and walking away with a shake of his head.
"I'll go with you before he tells us how he conquered Troy." Gregori laughed, shaking his head in delight at Darson.
"And I'll go congratulate the guards in front for their self-control in not shooting you if that's the story you told to get them to let you in," Arrienye added, joining in the head-shaking and leaving the gathered crowd, regretting even bringing up the sword.
----
As Rianni’s sponsor it was she who provided the Audaen, the traditional robe embroidered in the House colours. She had asked Rianni to dress plainly, not in uniform, for this ceremony, a curious melding of the Coming of Age rite and an adoption ceremony was to mark her passage from one stage to the next, and from one people into another.
The guests who would attend the ceremony were now inside the replicated great hall and awaiting their arrival, among them Isha’s mother, Proconsul tr’Vainlli and Rianni’s father. In the changing rooms Isha held up the robe so that Rianni could slip her arms in.
Rianni slipped into the robe quickly, nervous about this entire thing to say the least, "So, who is the guy who came with your mom, anyway?" Rianni asked, "He looked important."
"Proconsul tr'Vainlli," Isha stated as she adjusted the front of the robe before fastening wide embroidered belt around Rianni's waist. When she looked at Rianni she got the impression that she had expected more than that. "He's the Chairman of the Continuing Committee and for reasons unknown he has agreed to oversee you becoming a citizen of the Empire." Isha knew there was something more behind his visit, she just did not know what yet. As soon as she could get him alone Isha was going to ask him. "tr'Vainlli is also the person I report to.," she added.
"Okay, so he's your boss." Rianni nodded, "Real important guy it seems. I guess this must be a really important event for everybody if he's showing up here." Rianni knew Isha had great status, and she knew her father's status was increasing with every day, so this Proconsul visiting wasn't that much of a surprise when looked at in that light.
"Vaebn has been studiously avoiding allowing me to corner him," Isha said, "but I plan to find out why he's here," she said. "So, are you going to take a new name or keep the one you were given?" Isha asked changing the subject back to the upcoming ritual.
"I plan on keeping my own name." Rianni replied, "I've had it my entire life, there's no reason to change who I am, even if I am changing my life in a lot of ways, I'm still me."
"As it is, I would have been surprised if you had wished to change it," Isha replied. "I'm also not sure that your mother could have been persuaded to understand," she added as erie'Riov t'Khev poked her head into the room.
"They are ready for you, erie'Hfirhm," she said acknowledging that she was part of Isha's wider family through one of the clans of the Khelliana.
"Thank you," Isha said with a curt nod. "Are you ready, Rianni?" she asked her niece.
"Let's do it." Rianni nodded, having to stifle a laugh at the fact that the words she'd just spoken for her adoption were the same words ancient Earth serial killer Gary Gilmore spoke before his execution, ~Guess we'll find out later who got it worse...~
Through the slightly parted curtains they could see into the holodeck. The room within was large, with twelve sides supporting a roof that tapered to a point giving the appearance of an oversized but very solid tent. At the end furthest from the entrance was a dais, and those many, many walls were hung with colours of muted rusts and blues and greens.
Though the illusion had been convincing when the room was empty, now that it was filled with many hundred bodies and the babble of the Rihannsu tongue filled the air the effect was quite stunning.
The way to the dais at the far end of the twelve sided structure was clear and behind the dais the banner of the Khelliana with their emblem picked out in muted rusts and blues and greens rippled in the breeze that carried with it the scent of the forest.
On the dais were seated Hru’Hfirh Llaiir t’Khellian, Isha’s mother and Proconsul tr’Vainlli, the current Chair of the Continuing Committee; a third chair stood empty, that was Isha’s and she would take it once she had presented Rianni. In front of them was a large bronze crucible on a stand.
A hush fell as Llaiir t’Khellian rose and approached the centre of the dais and threw a handful of powder into the crucible; a blue-greeen flame rose and burned within it – Okhala the Element of fire, and one that the Khelliana had long claimed as their own.
“That’s our cue,” Isha whispered to Rianni as she pushed the curtains aside and stepped into the ancient hall at Ramnau.
Rianni said nothing, merely nodding and following Isha, hoping her aunt would get her through this like she always had.
Isha walked at a regal pace, in time, she would be leader of all these people as well as those who made up her late husband’s House, they were an vast force, bound by unbreakable and ancient loyalty and knowing that all this was behind her, and everything that she did gave Isha immense inner strength.
The only time Isha ever understood her mother was at moments like this when she stood robed and aloof, a queen among her own people; it was the only thing that she and Isha had in common. As they approached the dais Isha bowed her head to her mother.
“Hru’Hfirh, I bring you Rianni Monteros, a lost sister, born of our blood,” she said so that the room could hear her.
“Be seated erie’Hfirh, my daughter. We will see if the flame burns true in her heart,” Llaiir replied.
Once again Isha bowed before stepping on to the dais, lifting her skirt as she did. She then took the vacant seat, to the left of the one her mother had occupied. Isha’s part in the ceremony was over, now it was up to Rianni.
Llaiir peered down at the young woman. She thought that she could be little older than her grand-daughter, but her grand-daughter had been raised in the traditions of Isha’s House and as a daughter of the Empire. Whereas R’Vek had kept very quiet about his indiscretion, and she had been raised among aliens.
“It is both an honour and a responsibility to be a member of a Great House. You carry not only your own reputation, but those of all other members. Your every triumph is theirs, as is your disgrace. We note your desire to put your old life behind you and to become what you were born to be. What worth do you bring us, Rianni Monteros?” Llaiir asked.
"I bring my skill in combat, both as a pilot and in command. For proof I offer you the fifty dead enemies of the Empire left in my wake during the Dominion War and the defeated Lyosians from my time as second in command of the USS Bismarck and in command of the Imperial Scout Vessel t'Rel." Rianni answered, in a tone that would be too arrogant for her usual use, but so very Romulan, "I offer my skill as a trader and my courage as an explorer. I give my loyalty to my family, even those I wasn't raised amongst, and my life in combat for the house if need be. I give a pledge to destroy our enemies before they have a chance to destroy us, this is what I bring." The Greek in Rianni wanted to add 'Take it or fracking leave it!' but she managed to hold her tongue.
Llaiir nodded briefly. "We accept your pledge of loyalty and your devotion unto death if that is where the elements lead you. May you prove to be a worthy daughter of the Khelliana. Will you leave behind your name along with the uniform and bonds of loyalty you have severed?”
"I will keep my name in respect to those who raised me, and carry the Khelliana name in honor of those who accept me today." Rianni answered, as diplomatically as she could and hoped they would still accept her.
If Llaiir thought that it was the wrong decision her impassive face did not reveal it. "Very well,” she said gesturing to a servant waiting at the side of the dais. He stepped quickly forward bringing a chalice with him. Llaiir took it in both hands and raised it, "Rianni Monteros t’Khellian, I welcome you to my House in a bond eternal. Where mhnei’sahe guides, you will follow, and in thought and word and deed you will be one of us.” Llaiir lowered the gilt cup and held it out to Rianni. It was symbolic, the wine in the chalice representative of the bounty and support the House provided to its members.
"And I accept with pride." Rianni replied, making no mention of the completely un-Romulan trait of humility, as she took the chalice and drank deep of the wine inside before handing the chalice back to Llaiir, her head bowed in reverence to the head of her house.
As soon as the servant had removed it Llaiir spoke again. "Then turn, and see your kindred," she said. If Rianni wished to say anything to the assembly then now was the time to do it while her name was being painted into the ancient tome that had been brought from ch'Rihan for the purpose.
Rianni turned and faced the family, seeing mostly approving looks from both of her families and her friends, knowing she was expected to say something, "As no words can do this moment justice, I won't say any, and let my actions speak for me and for us."
To be continued ...
by Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson & Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Lieutenant JG Taleria von Alesk & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Colonel James Darson & Lieutenant Commander Jarred Wallace & Commander Richard Dunham & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC)
Post Details
| Title | Welcome to the Family (part 2) | |
| Mission | Interlude | |
| Author(s) | Commander Isha t'Vaurek & Colonel James Darson & Alderman Dorian Gabriel & Lieutenant JG Taleria von Alesk & Commander Chelsea Dunham & Colonel James Darson & Lieutenant Commander Jarred Wallace & Commander Richard Dunham & Alderman Yolanthe Ibalin & (G) Arrain - Lieutenant Arrienye t'Merek & Captain Tasha Tahir (NPC) | |
| Posted | Mon Jul 19, 2010 @ 6:24pm | |
| Location | Box of Delights |
"You and the Ambassador may have a certain level of trust but you and I don't, and it is I who is in charge of security here, not the Ambassador," Arrienye pointed out. "And if the weapon is unable to harm anyone, and you are not the Master of Ceremonies, then I see no problem why you shouldn't be handing it over."
Darson shook his head, “No, seriously…It’s incapable of harming anybody here. Watch,” he placed his hand on the hilt inlaid with precious gems which glowed slightly under his hand and gave it a couple of hard tugs. Nothing happened and the sword remained firmly in its sheath, “You see? It can’t be drawn. I picked this artifact up on my travels a long time ago…I don’t know its name, where was forged, or even how old it it…most importantly, I never discovered the secret of how to unsheathe it. All I know is that it’s incredibly beautiful…and it looks good on my belt,” Mostly lies. But not ones that would concern t’Merek. Darson was here to help out a little bit, even though they didn’t know it. And he had given his word to Isha that he would cause no disruptions…unless somebody started one first.
“But if you’re doubtful,” he said in a whimsical tone, “perhaps you would like to try it yourself?” He placed the glass down and pulled the sword from his belt, turning it around and proffering the hilt to t’Merek, “Give it a try” The jewels on the handle clouded as if upset, and the sword itself gave out an ominous aura.
Arrienye's blue eyes looked down at the weapon's hilt. She couldn't explain it but it didn't look inviting, at all. But she wasn't one to be afraid so, giving the man in armor a quick, slightly quizzical 'You're up to something, I know it' glance, Arrienye reached out to closed her hand around it.
Gregori watched with a certain amount of delight at the exchange between the Marine who thought he was a superhero and the beautiful, if insanely uptight, Romulan woman. He'd seen another sword like this before, long ago, probably before either of them were even thought of, and he knew how to draw it, but it was much more fun to watch them.
As soon as she grabbed onto the hilt, there was an enormous psychic roar, and in t’Merek’s eyes, a menacing presence was felt, reaching out to her with ethereal claws through the hilt of the sword, up her arms, chilling the blood in her veins and towards her head when all of sudden…
“That’s quite enough of that,” Darson quipped as he removed her hand from the blade with the hand that wasn’t holding onto it. As she stumbled slightly back he examined the sword, “So…you felt it?”
Arrienye looked up at him, her blue eyes fiery and accusatory.
“Of the many things in my collection from my journeys through the infinite cosmos,” Darson said in a thoughtful tone, “this is I think one of the most evil things I’ve ever collected. It a malevolent sword indeed…one that recognizes only one wielder at a time. As well, you must have the…disposition…to wield it, or it will consume you. I handed the sword to three people before I figured that out. All of them were confiscating my weapon, and let me tell you…the end result wasn’t pretty.”
He slid over to Gregori and placed his arm around his shoulder leaning in close enough to his face that if he hadn’t had his mask on, Gregori could feel his breath, “But you…you had a look in your eye while we were doing that little test with his sword…what was that about I wonder?” The light glinted off the monocle he was wearing as he examined Gregori with suspicion.
“I know!” Darson suddenly shouted pointing an accusing finger at him, “You want me to regale you with the tale of exactly how I came by this sword, don’t you? Well, considering this is a party and I’m in a good mood, I will oblige you!”
He turned to the others and said in a dramatic tone, “Now then, prepare yourselves for an epic story of suspense, intrigue and shocking details! And let me assure you all that this story is a hundred percent true. Once upon a time, which shall remain vague because the operation is still classified, there was a Marine named James Darson. ME! It was back during the Dominion war, during the stale mate between both sides after Benjamin Sisko retook Deep Space 9. I was assigned to lead a small team to destroy a Cardassian outpost on a remote front-line location. I had with me a single ship, and a squad of Marines.”
He began acting out the story using sweeping hand gestures and sound effects, “We came out of warp on the far side of the solar system, hoping to use the solar interference to mask our approach. But alas, it was in vain! We tripped a Cardassian Sensor Net, and their ships came out in force. We performed evasive maneuvers, but to no avail. Sustaining critical damage, we all boarded escape pods and abandoned ship as it broke apart around us,” he recreated this using several h’ordurves from a passing waiter.
“We fell to the surface, landing in a mountainous area. Most of my men were captured and summarily executed…oh, the humanity of it all! But I alone was able to escape. I hid for three nights and three days in a river. On the fourth day, I snuck around and discovered that there was an entire armored battalion stationed there. As I was planning my solo assault, I accidentally fell into a cavernous ravine, falling all the way to bottom!” He flipped where he stood and ended up on his back on the floor staring up at the ceiling and the crowd of people that were assembling around them.
“So there I was…stuck at the bottom of the canyon, quite literally between a rock and a hard place. So what did I do? I’ll tell you what I did. I dug my way out,” he jumped to his feet and held his hands out in front of him, “With my bare hands!!!!”
After a couple of hours of digging, I found myself in a series of catacombs under the mountain range…they were in horrible condition. But passable. So what did I do? I passed through them of course! Deeper and deeper I went through the labyrinth, exploring every corner of what would have been an archeologists wet dream. But then I came to a closed door surrounded by skeletons adorned with writing that my seemed to indicate that the door should not be opened. So of course I opened it.”
He buried his head in his hands and moved closer to Chelsea and Dunham, “But what awaited me on the other side of that door was more horrible than I could have ever imagined! It was a beast, massive and feral…over five meters tall and swathed in fire, darkness and shadows. It wielded a stone axe and an enormous deadly whip made of fire!” He gently grabbed a red shawl from one of the guests who had gathered around to listen and wished it around through the air, making cracking noises.
“In this beast I had finally met my match. I fought with him for two days, before finally destroying him. I lured him onto a thin bridge, and while he was on it, I blew it up with carefully placed explosives. As he tumbled into the abyss, his gut wrenching screams bit at me.” He shook his head sadly.
“But whatever,” he said cheerfully, “He was trying to kill me. Regardless! As horrific as that was, it was nothing compared to what was to come. I continued on for another day and eventually ended up at the bottom of the catacombs. It was a tomb, surrounded by a deep pool of dark water. I crossed to it, began to examine it. It was filled with…well, what it was filled with is not important. What is important is that among the items I found, there was this sword,” he touched the hilt which glowed under his touch.
“I appraised it from all angles, before taking it up. IT WAS THEN,” he suddenly shouted, throwing his arms up in the air, “That I was overcome by a horrendous feeling as the sword I had just picked up tried to overwhelm my very soul. It is also that exact moment that I was set upon by a vicious horde of the undead,” he began to walk around with his arms out in front of him in the style of a zombie, “all of them trying to get their hands on my delicious innards.”
He knelt down to a child, “So there I was…completely incapacitated, out manned, out positioned, surrounded on all sides by that which cannot die. They clawed their way up to the tomb from the pool, grotesque things, groaning…oh the groans! They were horrible. But as things were at their bleakest…” he trailed off, stopping in his tracks as he dusted himself off, the medals jangling. He stared across the room at something then turned back to his audience.
“So in the end I wrested control of the sword, made the undead my minions and proceeded to crush the entire outpost with them along with the armored battalion. It was during that conflict that I earned one of my legendary reputations, as the Necromancer of Morian III! How Glorious it was. And thats how I got my sword."
"I'm going to get another drink." Said Dunham after the 'story' and walking away with a shake of his head.
"I'll go with you before he tells us how he conquered Troy." Gregori laughed, shaking his head in delight at Darson.
"And I'll go congratulate the guards in front for their self-control in not shooting you if that's the story you told to get them to let you in," Arrienye added, joining in the head-shaking and leaving the gathered crowd, regretting even bringing up the sword.
----
As Rianni’s sponsor it was she who provided the Audaen, the traditional robe embroidered in the House colours. She had asked Rianni to dress plainly, not in uniform, for this ceremony, a curious melding of the Coming of Age rite and an adoption ceremony was to mark her passage from one stage to the next, and from one people into another.
The guests who would attend the ceremony were now inside the replicated great hall and awaiting their arrival, among them Isha’s mother, Proconsul tr’Vainlli and Rianni’s father. In the changing rooms Isha held up the robe so that Rianni could slip her arms in.
Rianni slipped into the robe quickly, nervous about this entire thing to say the least, "So, who is the guy who came with your mom, anyway?" Rianni asked, "He looked important."
"Proconsul tr'Vainlli," Isha stated as she adjusted the front of the robe before fastening wide embroidered belt around Rianni's waist. When she looked at Rianni she got the impression that she had expected more than that. "He's the Chairman of the Continuing Committee and for reasons unknown he has agreed to oversee you becoming a citizen of the Empire." Isha knew there was something more behind his visit, she just did not know what yet. As soon as she could get him alone Isha was going to ask him. "tr'Vainlli is also the person I report to.," she added.
"Okay, so he's your boss." Rianni nodded, "Real important guy it seems. I guess this must be a really important event for everybody if he's showing up here." Rianni knew Isha had great status, and she knew her father's status was increasing with every day, so this Proconsul visiting wasn't that much of a surprise when looked at in that light.
"Vaebn has been studiously avoiding allowing me to corner him," Isha said, "but I plan to find out why he's here," she said. "So, are you going to take a new name or keep the one you were given?" Isha asked changing the subject back to the upcoming ritual.
"I plan on keeping my own name." Rianni replied, "I've had it my entire life, there's no reason to change who I am, even if I am changing my life in a lot of ways, I'm still me."
"As it is, I would have been surprised if you had wished to change it," Isha replied. "I'm also not sure that your mother could have been persuaded to understand," she added as erie'Riov t'Khev poked her head into the room.
"They are ready for you, erie'Hfirhm," she said acknowledging that she was part of Isha's wider family through one of the clans of the Khelliana.
"Thank you," Isha said with a curt nod. "Are you ready, Rianni?" she asked her niece.
"Let's do it." Rianni nodded, having to stifle a laugh at the fact that the words she'd just spoken for her adoption were the same words ancient Earth serial killer Gary Gilmore spoke before his execution, ~Guess we'll find out later who got it worse...~
Through the slightly parted curtains they could see into the holodeck. The room within was large, with twelve sides supporting a roof that tapered to a point giving the appearance of an oversized but very solid tent. At the end furthest from the entrance was a dais, and those many, many walls were hung with colours of muted rusts and blues and greens.
Though the illusion had been convincing when the room was empty, now that it was filled with many hundred bodies and the babble of the Rihannsu tongue filled the air the effect was quite stunning.
The way to the dais at the far end of the twelve sided structure was clear and behind the dais the banner of the Khelliana with their emblem picked out in muted rusts and blues and greens rippled in the breeze that carried with it the scent of the forest.
On the dais were seated Hru’Hfirh Llaiir t’Khellian, Isha’s mother and Proconsul tr’Vainlli, the current Chair of the Continuing Committee; a third chair stood empty, that was Isha’s and she would take it once she had presented Rianni. In front of them was a large bronze crucible on a stand.
A hush fell as Llaiir t’Khellian rose and approached the centre of the dais and threw a handful of powder into the crucible; a blue-greeen flame rose and burned within it – Okhala the Element of fire, and one that the Khelliana had long claimed as their own.
“That’s our cue,” Isha whispered to Rianni as she pushed the curtains aside and stepped into the ancient hall at Ramnau.
Rianni said nothing, merely nodding and following Isha, hoping her aunt would get her through this like she always had.
Isha walked at a regal pace, in time, she would be leader of all these people as well as those who made up her late husband’s House, they were an vast force, bound by unbreakable and ancient loyalty and knowing that all this was behind her, and everything that she did gave Isha immense inner strength.
The only time Isha ever understood her mother was at moments like this when she stood robed and aloof, a queen among her own people; it was the only thing that she and Isha had in common. As they approached the dais Isha bowed her head to her mother.
“Hru’Hfirh, I bring you Rianni Monteros, a lost sister, born of our blood,” she said so that the room could hear her.
“Be seated erie’Hfirh, my daughter. We will see if the flame burns true in her heart,” Llaiir replied.
Once again Isha bowed before stepping on to the dais, lifting her skirt as she did. She then took the vacant seat, to the left of the one her mother had occupied. Isha’s part in the ceremony was over, now it was up to Rianni.
Llaiir peered down at the young woman. She thought that she could be little older than her grand-daughter, but her grand-daughter had been raised in the traditions of Isha’s House and as a daughter of the Empire. Whereas R’Vek had kept very quiet about his indiscretion, and she had been raised among aliens.
“It is both an honour and a responsibility to be a member of a Great House. You carry not only your own reputation, but those of all other members. Your every triumph is theirs, as is your disgrace. We note your desire to put your old life behind you and to become what you were born to be. What worth do you bring us, Rianni Monteros?” Llaiir asked.
"I bring my skill in combat, both as a pilot and in command. For proof I offer you the fifty dead enemies of the Empire left in my wake during the Dominion War and the defeated Lyosians from my time as second in command of the USS Bismarck and in command of the Imperial Scout Vessel t'Rel." Rianni answered, in a tone that would be too arrogant for her usual use, but so very Romulan, "I offer my skill as a trader and my courage as an explorer. I give my loyalty to my family, even those I wasn't raised amongst, and my life in combat for the house if need be. I give a pledge to destroy our enemies before they have a chance to destroy us, this is what I bring." The Greek in Rianni wanted to add 'Take it or fracking leave it!' but she managed to hold her tongue.
Llaiir nodded briefly. "We accept your pledge of loyalty and your devotion unto death if that is where the elements lead you. May you prove to be a worthy daughter of the Khelliana. Will you leave behind your name along with the uniform and bonds of loyalty you have severed?”
"I will keep my name in respect to those who raised me, and carry the Khelliana name in honor of those who accept me today." Rianni answered, as diplomatically as she could and hoped they would still accept her.
If Llaiir thought that it was the wrong decision her impassive face did not reveal it. "Very well,” she said gesturing to a servant waiting at the side of the dais. He stepped quickly forward bringing a chalice with him. Llaiir took it in both hands and raised it, "Rianni Monteros t’Khellian, I welcome you to my House in a bond eternal. Where mhnei’sahe guides, you will follow, and in thought and word and deed you will be one of us.” Llaiir lowered the gilt cup and held it out to Rianni. It was symbolic, the wine in the chalice representative of the bounty and support the House provided to its members.
"And I accept with pride." Rianni replied, making no mention of the completely un-Romulan trait of humility, as she took the chalice and drank deep of the wine inside before handing the chalice back to Llaiir, her head bowed in reverence to the head of her house.
As soon as the servant had removed it Llaiir spoke again. "Then turn, and see your kindred," she said. If Rianni wished to say anything to the assembly then now was the time to do it while her name was being painted into the ancient tome that had been brought from ch'Rihan for the purpose.
Rianni turned and faced the family, seeing mostly approving looks from both of her families and her friends, knowing she was expected to say something, "As no words can do this moment justice, I won't say any, and let my actions speak for me and for us."
To be continued ...