Kædæ sighed as the Sheinta Class Personnel Shuttle took off, somehow buffeted by a non-existent wind in the landing bay of the Meulianan Cruiser, the lead of three ships sent to this meeting by the Fædanærie. “Oela, water, please,” he requested of one of his aides, a young member of the Udæn who had proved exceptional for her tender age.
He settled back into the gel-pod seat that had been created uniquely for him, the absorbent material protecting his brittle, ancient bones. He watched as Oela nodded politely, and stood, quickly making her way to a sidebar where she took a glass and filled it halfway with pristine water which sparkled under the uundairn-powered lights, noting with approval her quiet, efficient demeanor. “Thank you, Oela,” he murmured when she pressed it into his hand. Another sigh passed his lips, and he took a deep breath. ‘New experiences such as this at my age,”
he thought to himself with a wry smile; which caused one of his two Snæren guards to cock his head in question, but the old Fædanærie-Elect waved it off with an interestingly colourless hand. Tapping on the touch-screen buttons which resided on the right arm of his gel-pod chair, a slight pneumatic hiss sounded, almost deafening to Kædæ in the respectful silence that enveloped his shuttle craft, as a large screen lowered from the ceiling until it rested at eye level with the old Nyæni politician. A series of blinks later, and the feed split into three; on the left, full screen height and half wide, was the video invitation requesting the presence of a representative from the Nyæni race to this meeting. The right hand half of the screen, split in half horizontally, showed a three-dimensional image of the planet, which changed between various filters, and a video feed from a camera placed at the front of the craft. He absorbed the details, and sooner than he’d have thought possible an automated voice, smooth and calm, penetrated his concentration.
‘Can all passengers please brace for atmospheric entrance. I repeat, can all passengers please brace for atmospheric entrance.’
A hushed bustle overtook the spacious cabin as the other four occupants busied themselves. Kædæ blinked his ruby red eyes, which glistened in the soft light, and pressed a series of buttons on the arm rest, and smiled briefly as a gel-pad harness secured itself around him.
The ship bucked gently, the first signs they were about to enter a breathable atmosphere, and the Nyæni Uutanaat tried to regulate his breathing. ‘I’ve always hated re-entering atmosphere’s,’
he bemoaned inside his head, eyes closed.
He thought of his family; the wife back home who had begged him not to accept the assignment. He recalled his response, too sharp; cutting, ‘It’s my duty. As your husband, a Tælan, Entiniraan and as one of the elected Fædanærie of the Nyæn. I’m going.’
He shuddered, slightly abhorred by how he’d reacted. She’d been shocked; he had never spoken to her like that before. And then, before he knew it, a voice was talking to him.
“Kædæ, we’re coming in to land. K... Kædæ?” He opened his eyes, blinking at the natural light filtering through partially tinted windows, becoming more transparent by the second. He, once more nodded, and turned off the screen, before sending it rising back to the shuttle’s ceiling.
“Make ready, Oela. This gathering could mark a new stage of Nyæni history. And you will be there to witness it.”
Half an hour later, and the Sheinta had been settled neatly on the grassy flatland before the crystal dome whilst Kædæ composed himself. He finally emerged, using a walking stick made of Niindali Noerneft. He was flanked by his Snæren guards, each wearing silver-white robes under their ceremonial armour; swords sheathed on their backs. Kædæ kept his face studiously blank as he made his way to the crystal dome, impressed with his surroundings. The air smelt clean, and there was little excess noise permeating the air. “Olea, walk with me,” he requested, his voice rather quiet but commanding obedience, even though that wasn’t his intent. The aide appeared at his side almost instantly, a comp-tab ready in her hands. “I would like you to make your own minutes of this gathering, as well as you can. And also, find out which other races and civilisations are represented. We must have all the knowledge we can to reach any decisions. The Council has entrusted their power to us in this matter, and we cannot make the wrong decision, lest we go down in the history of our race in infamy.” The statement, though sounding pretentious to the Fædanærie-Elect even as he said it, rang oddly true, as if he hadn’t truly realised the implications before he voiced them. His primary aide nodded, and he dismissed her with a wave. ‘And to enter the den of the lineiren [lion] we await,’
he thought as he awaited the other representatives, taking a deep breath and wishing for a seat. 'Too early for my old bones,'
he thought, before chuckling. He knew he was still as hale and hearty as could be wished for.
OOC: So, SoA, I'm hoping this is a satisfactory opening post