themusemanor | PSL - Nepeta | Helen --> Chasing the fires of war

The planet wasn't much to look at, from above. Admittedly, the same could have be said of any planet, but it wasn't like it mattered. The reach of Alternia was long, and this planet was but one of many to fall under the sights of Her Imperial Condescension.

It was also the first one that what might have been called a resistance - if any of the members had so much as dared to say the word - had been able to do something about. It wasn't easy to to lay down enough of a groundwork to exchange the orders enough to give the proper amount of leeway despite the orders of Her Tyranny. They've had practice, but working within the framework of another tended to be a lot harder when traitors are shot first and questioned later. Worse when psychics were, in fact, very much a thing. Still, they've managed to work what some would call a miracle and that will do. Now all they have to do is hope that it's not a wasted effort. Either way, most would have been hard-pressed to spot the shuttle that slipped its way into Earth's atmosphere, even if the design was most distinctly alien. (That no one seemed to have managed anti-psychic technology on this particular world probably helped.)

It was probably only by a stroke of like that the little shuttle ended up making its way to subterranean tunnel that leads out to not far from the Sanctuary. Nepeta knew far better to assume that the inhabitants of every world were nocturnal.

That said, she also wasn't above exploring the tunnels of the cave she'd landed in. There had to be something of interest down here, after all.

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"Warfleets?" Helen's tone sounds as though she doesn't quite believe what she's hearing. Oh that raises a lot of questions. "What sort, where are they coming from, and how do you know this?"

Also, why she's warning Helen is a matter of interest, but that can wait for the moment. The other questions are more important.

"Because they sent me, of course," Nepeta answers, without even so much as missing a beat. Admittedly, that only raises more questions, particularly in the category of why Nepeta's even bringing it up in the first place, if she's something like a scout, but presumably this can be answered later. "And they're coming from very fur away, but that doesn't mean anything."

If there's one thing that can be said of Alternian fleets, it's that they can be surprisingly fast, even without a proper helmsman. And surprisingly deadly, for that matter, but that's the whole point of having a warfleet in the first place, and so Nepeta doesn't bother to mention that little detail.

That certainly doesn't help, raising more questions than it answers. For the moment, she focuses on what she's a little more certain Nepeta might be willing to answer. "May I ask why you've decided to warn me if these so-called warfleets sent you here?"

The questions about the fleets themselves would come later. Helen has to be sure first.

By way of answer, Nepeta only raises a finger to her mouth in the universal sign for silence. "They aren't supurrsed to know."

Needless to say, not everyone is entirely happy with Her Condescension's rule. It's simply that out and out rebellion is something that would almost never work on Alternia. Even this is a risk, if it gets back to those in charge, but it isn't as if their rebellion (such as it is) hasn't already faced a certain amount of challenges already.

Helen considers it for a moment. This could be an outright lie, a chance to gain information on her new Sanctuary or to find out how she'd survived the blast that took out the Old City Sanctuary. If SCIU found out she was still alive... Then again, maybe it was real, maybe this woman was telling the truth. Helen would be a fool to write it off entirely.

Her decision is made in a matter of minutes, eyes narrowing as her gaze takes in the woman before her. "Say I believe you, for a moment. Would you be willing to give me information on these fleets, something I can use to help stop whatever they're trying to attempt? And if so, do you expect anything in return? Is this a negotiation table?"

Of course, that doesn't even brush the question of whether or not she can trust these words.

Were Nepeta anyone else, it could well be. As things stand, she barely has any idea that Helen is in charge, much less that the Sanctuary used to be above ground. She does know that there's something out here that's drawing a lot of power, and in ways that most people wouldn't be able to notice, but what it is and why, she hasn't the slightest idea.

"Of course," Nepeta answers, all honesty despite Helen's suspicion. "If you help us, then we'll give you the infurmation you need."

"All right," Helen relents after a moment to consider. It doesn't sound like a bad trade-off and if something goes wrong, plenty of security systems exist in the new Sanctuary to ensure that no one can find them or destroy what she spent so long building up. She may not show Nepeta everything right away, but at least they can talk things out like reasonable adults -- or so she hopes. "What do you need from me?"

Nepeta wouldn't expect to be shown everything. She knows she wouldn't, if Helen had been some strange new arrival to Alternia, and that was assuming she was of sufficient interest to not simply be culled straight off the bat. Regardless, she takes what she can get.

"We need to know what you can do in a strife. The fleet will all be state of the art. Also I suppurrse it would be good to know if you have psionics."

"If you don't mind a bit of a walk, I'll take you somewhere we can talk a little easier." She had rooms that would work and not show too much too soon. Turning, she begins to make her way down the pathway, ears and every muscle strained for the sound of someone moving to strike while her back is turned. Her gun is still in hand and she's more than ready to react if necessary.

"I'm afraid I'm unfamiliar with that word. Could you describe it to me? We might have something similar under another name."

Unfortunately, the various terms and general gist of human language that Nepeta has picked up from any of the multitude of broadcasts that humanity seems so willing to share don't cover things quite like the supernatural. Even what she's offering now is only the closest literal translation that she can manage, and one picked up from some obscure website at that.

"Purrsons that can move things with their minds," she offers finally, as she follows along in Helen's wake. It's not the most accurate of descriptions, but it's the most relevant of a psionic's abilities just at the moment. Well, apart from the fact that sometime mind-control is a thing, but that isn't going to start being a major problem until the fleets actually begin to arrive.

It's enough to get the point across. Helen can make the connections from that. "Telekinesis, then," she supplies, thinking through what she knows of that sort of ability. It isn't much, as most have some sort of other ability to go with it. Nikola, for instance, is electromagnetic. Less random lifting of things and more magnetism.

"That would indeed be something to be wary of." Especially if it's really as powerful as the name would suggest.

Nepeta nods at the word, for all that she's probably not going to use it over the word that she already has. Not unless someone is really in need of of the explanation anyway, but that's something that can be dealt with later. For now, she'll be just fine with Helen having an understanding of what she means.

"I don't know how many the fleets will have, though."

"We can worry about that once we've figured out what to do about them."

Helen's concern is protection, certainly, but she's more worried about what to do with them once they arrive. How to deal with even one is a start, the stepping stone they'll need before they deal with numbers. For now, she's content to work from the ground up, as normal, and she isn't very worried. A little concerned, yes, but not afraid. They've dealt with a lot of crazy things in her lifetime. They can deal with this as well.

PSL - Nepeta | Helen --> Chasing the fires of war

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