The Banshee's Ambassador (prologue)
Title: The Banshee's Ambassador (Prologue)
Rating: PG-13 (for now)
Genre: Sci-Fi, Fantasy, (eventual) Romance
Warning: Violence, aliens, my bad spelling
Author Notes: This is my original story, as in I own every bit of it. No stealing please and thanks!
Summary:Ambassador Jove is snatched from his planet by the infamous pirate known only as the Banshee. Jove expected it to be a simple case of threats and ransom, but things are not always what they seem.
Wordcount: 1081 (sadly short, but this is simply the prologue and me feeling out if I want to continue it.)
This is a story based on two characters who are originally from a D&D style world. So this is a whole new setting and I'm not sure if I'll continue with it or write their story in their original setting. This was a quick and inspired bit, but has been sitting on my hard drive for a while. I'm really not sure if I'll go anywhere with it. This univers is a lot of fun to play around in though, so I might do two stories, one with the original setting and storyline and this being the second AU version. *shrug* We'll see.
Ambassador Jove strode confidently down the corridor to the council rooms, a gleaming badge of his government’s crest pinned to his vest. It was a beautiful day, a few fluffy clouds lazily floating in the emerald sky and the grass just starting to make its change from blue to purple.
He could hear chords of music in the air as he passed open archways, mid-day prayers being sung all over the planet. Reaching the large, intricately carved doors of the council room he took a moment to brace himself for the looks he always received when meeting the council members. His flashy outfits always caught a few off guard, from his shiny boots to his bead decorated hair. He tended to stand out like an out of tune instrument in the Grand Orchestra.
The doors swung open easily as he pushed, stepping into the large room with an enthusiastic, “Good day, friends!” Grinning widely as he looked around at the gathered faces, most he recognized but a few were new and looked rather stunned at his appearance. Jove couldn’t really blame them either, Ll’zrane was know for its simple beauty, both the land and its people. The Ll’zranians tended towards simple clothing and expressed themselves through their famous singing. So when the ambassador showed up in his uniquely bright garb and exuberant attitude it tended to turn heads. Many were skeptical of Jove as an ambassador, but that usually went away after they witnessed him in a meeting, his diplomatic skill overcoming their doubts about his daily attire.
Settling jauntily in his chair, Jove opened his mouth to officially start the meeting when an explosion rocked the room. Alarms began blaring everywhere, wailing in a strange rhythm and Jove gasped when he recognized the pattern, “Pirates!” He yelled, informing the other council members of what they were facing. Some hid under the table, while others, mostly older council members, alternatively pulled out weapons to fight or calmly moved away from the doors while staying alert for incoming danger.
Jove drew his sword, a gleaming blade of white metal that seemed to glow on its own that he’d gotten on a trip to the fiery planet of Palidian, and his Taliaklin blaster, small but packed quite the punch. There were more explosions, smaller but they sounded closer, and the distinct clamor of fighting. The guards must be trying to hold back the attack, Jove realized, disturbed by how close the pirates were to the heart of the citadel
Not many pirates had the ability or technology to sneak past the planet’s sensors, leaving only the worst options to consider. Jove was understandably grateful that this wasn’t Ripper territory, that particular pirate would leave no survivors.
Tensing along with the other fighters as the noises drew closer, Jove was thinking in overdrive, trying to figure out what pirates would want from his planet. They were prosperous, but not with currency. Ll’zrane and its people lived through music, the planet was kept alive with the melody that hummed through its core. It was an energy source that ceased to be useful once it left the planet, so that couldn’t be it. But then, what else would pirates want? Slaves were usually taken in a more subtle manner and they had no major trade with other planets or colonies.
It had to have something to do with the current meeting. Ll’zrane was supposed to finalize its integration into the Empire, but as far as Jove knew, there was no one of such great importance at the meeting that would be worth taking for a ransom.
Except for himself, Jove realized. As his planet’s best diplomat, and the only one qualified to complete the integration, his planet would pay a hefty sum to have him returned.
The noises outside had stopped, the fight was over and now there was a sense of anticipation in the air, Jove knew that if the guards had won, they would have announced themselves right away. Now twice as determined to face down whatever had reached the other side of the doors, Jove began to sing softly, feeling the power building in his body and surging through his veins.
There was a scraping sound as several flat, circular disks skidded under the door, sliding to a stop near the closest fighter’s talon tipped feet. Jove’s eye widened, “Those are-“ He yelled too late as the disks began pouring out a vile-smelling smoke that quickly filled the room. Some of the council with more acute senses were blinded or overwhelmed by the chemical smoke.
A splintering crack resounded through the room as the doors were forced open and pirates rushed in, their yelling and hollering mixing with the high pitched whine of blasters and clashes of metal.
Jove sheathed his blaster and pressed the thick cloth of his vest over his mouth to avoid choking. He couldn’t swing his sword, it would risk hitting an ally blindly and he couldn’t pick out enemy scents with all of the smoke. He’d also had to stop singing and he could feel the power fading from his body. He’d have to do this the old fashioned way then.
A meaty hand clamped onto Jove’s shoulder as a blaster barrel was pressed into the small of his back, two more hands began shoving him forward and a gravelly voice spoke in rough Universal, “Get movin’.”
Jove recognized the accent, a four-armed Xlixin then, and not very old or he’d be much bigger. He spun the sword in his palm so that the blade pointed past his elbow and stabbed behind himself as he swayed his hips to the side to avoid being cut by his own blade. There was a pained bellow as he buried his sword into the Xlixin’s body. The pirate let go of him to clutch his bleeding wound, staggering away almost before Jove could pull his sword free.
He braced himself for the next attacker, listening carefully and feeling ready for anything when a solid blow slammed into his gut, lifting him off the ground and stealing the breath from his lungs. Jove saw spots swimming in his vision and unthinkingly gasped in a large lungful of smoky air, causing him to cough as it burned all the way down.
Hunched over in pain, he reached for his blaster, fingers barely skimming the handle before a second blow caught him on the side of the head and his world went black.