SD 241402.18 PL | "Pursuit of Hello" | Noturan Minister & Sentinel

Posted on Wed Feb 19th, 2014 @ 7:52am by

983 words; about a 5 minute read

Mission: In the Dark
Location: Noturan City
Timeline: Midnight after the Vindicator's landing.

=/\= Noturan City =/\=

Orlen pressed the bindings of the log book down hard. A wisp of dust caught in the air, freed from the paper and leather as the pages slammed close. A book like this one weighed in excess of four kilos, and it shook the desk before coming to rest. The resulting thud echoed hard in the stone chamber of the counselor's hall, mirroring the displeasure of old man who sat inside it. Crow's feet met at the corner's temples, more accentuated than ever as his brow hung low over his eyes. An expression of anger filled his features, but not out of hate or loathing, just of of concern. The words of the log book may have held more information than an official would like, but more often than not it held nearly nothing at all. Orlen found himself praying for one of those lackluster moments now, as he processed this new information he'd just scrolled through. Reading it over thoroughly, twice, had not seemed to help.
He looked up from the logbook at the man who had brought the report in the first place. A sentinel of many years, and a man who Orlen had come to trust as a skilled tracker and survivalist. He had no reason to doubt the truth of the logs, but the question needed to be asked despite his own feelings on the matter.

Silently, firmly, Qip Oken stood sentry opposite the minister's desk. The leather of his Sentinel's 'uniform' only creaked as Oken squeezed his fist held behind his back. This was taking forever. He'd gone on his routine patrol mission like every other week. Spending three days going around the outside of the valley, surveying the wilds and mountains, then returning home to file his findings in the sentinel's log.

The book was finally closed.

Now he stood in agonizing silence before the man dictated to read over his report. Normally the process barely scratched at an hour, but today the logbook held more than what the Sentinel had wanted to report. Qip had watched the shadows of the dim sun cross the room. In patience, it would have been an exercise of thoughtful contemplation to witness light pan from one decorative floor rug to another. While a soldier stood before a government official as he read over his report however, the elderly minister may as well have been dragging Oken across a pile of freshly blown coals. The time passed like rake across his back, which was also beginning to tire from the rigid stance of attention he'd been standing in. Oken's shoulder was about to twitch in protest when the minister finally decided to speak up.

"Is this information correct?" Orlen asked. His hoarse voice cracked the whip of intelligence and query. The question begged to discover a flaw in Oken's reasoning, attention, or truthfulness. "It is no laughing matter to declare a foreign vessel has landed on our world, Sentinel. If you are incorrect the punishment will be more than your training has prepared you for."

Qip Oken didn't flinch as the threat came. He knew better than to try and falsify the log book. His missions were usually quiet, and without anything to indicate at all. Now that a serious complication crossed the desk of his superiors there was almost an outright panic. Qip knew the city officials would find any excuse to dismiss his report, and to bury his findings. It mattered little the truth of the matter, and Oken wasn't about to test his place in the hierarchy of the city.

The Sentinel's scarred brow lowered as well, responding to the accusation that his report would be somehow inaccurate or incomplete. "I am not blind, De'O-"

"Mind your words, Sentinel!" Da'Orlen stood, slowly but with intent. "I respect your efforts, I am merely investigating to the fullest means I am able. It is my duty."

Qip threw aside his solid and attentive posturing to throw a finger beck towards the door. "Those men in the counsel will never accept what I have told you, you know it and so do I, Primary Minister. I would never falsify a report and you know that to the be truth of things! I have served as a Sentry of the city for ten years, faithfully and in earnest, yet that will mean nothing to those who seek to deny reality. It is why I came to you first, Da'Orlen." Qip's breathing had rapidly increased as the volume of his words had done the same. Calming from the outrage that so quickly overtook his self-control, Qip settled his hand back to his belt. "Do you not believe what I have written in the log?"

Minister Orlen sat back down, deciding against wrestling with words against the young Sentinel. "I do."

"Then what do we do about it." Oken asked plainly.

Breathing out slowly and allowing himself to catch up with his thoughts, Orlen pondered what the young man suggested. Obviously anyone else in the counsel would have told them both to wait and see, to watch patiently in case the newcomers simply decided to leave of their own accord.

"It was foolish to think we'd never have this happen. Someone was bound to come here eventually, and you're right, we should do something." Orlen's tone hushed slightly.

"Assemble your Quad. We'll meet outside the gates just before dawn and make our way to the visitor's landing site."

A slick smile lit up Oken's face. "You intend for us to meet them face to face?"

Orlen nodded, "I cannot put a face on a friend if I cannot see them. So let us hope they are friendly, and we are not forfeiting our lives to a folly."

Oken bowed respectfully, then turned and bolted out the door.

=/\= END LOG =/\=

Da'Orlen
Primary Minister of the Noturan City Counsel

Qip Oken
Sentinel
NOTURAN CITY

 

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