Psionic: 3

((Main Bridge))

The drive continued to charge, gaining energy at a moderate rate as the captain spoke to Claymore. Donva paid no mind, instead focusing on correcting minute mistakes in his algorithm. Going further into the Bubble meant dealing with congested space in the form of not just celestial bodies but orbital and deep space stations. While anyone knew that space was big, it most certainly was not when it came to navigating through solar hotspots such as habitable planets and their traffic.

Fortunately, only a black hole was the major problem, the deep well of its gravity adding a few numerals that otherwise was a simple button push. Corvo deleted two variables and straightened out the course, ensuring the blue-green line bent around the outer edge of the gravity well. It wasn't enough to yank the ship out and it was an energy-efficient course to do so.

Finally, the system readied itself for FTL.

"Light Wave Drive, ready. Establishing warp field... Transitioning in 3... 2... 1," he reported. With a flash through the viewer, the Cornucopia launched itself once more past the light barrier. "Arrival time estimated to be in thirty-two minutes, captain," he finished, swiveling his chair towards the captain.

The captain was still a simmering pot of emotions but at least it was simmering. Thinking it might be wise to clear his head a bit and to get away from that constant feeling, he touched the auto-navigate controls. Right now, no human or humanoid mind could keep up with lightspeed and it was fully up to the computers to do the rest. Not to mention that Light Wave was much different than a Void Drive, being much safer than its older counterpart. The Yassengoro felt it was not quite the same, that some of the flair of being in space was lost there. Witchspace had been studied by the Confederacy and with more and more Yassengoro beginning to be born with gifts similar to his own, it was gaining a new view.

Corvo cleared out of the bridge, descending down the ladder.

((Cargo Hold))

He had finished stowing the rest of his gear and made his way to the large cargo bay. He carried with him the shrii'tk blade he and every Yassengoro had been given upon their entry into service. He knew he was a bit lacking as of late on his defense training and hoped that a few katas would ease his mind.

He took a knee in the center, plenty of room to practice in. The blade made little noise as it slid from leather, a dull steel glint upon it as he brought it before his eyes.

"Qon kek'lan hassen," he spoke, reciting words burnt into memory. "Qon kek'lan Vempire. Qon kek'lan yassengi."

One kill for the family. One kill for the Confederacy. One kill for yourself.

These words were spoken in sincerity of a now receding age, but one that still carried weight. Long had his people fought the Tyznn. And long still was the will to fight for their sovereign. Corvo knew that the Confederacy sought peace and far too often found conflict in its stead. The three kills were what was expected of one in the service, of any Yassengoro, to defend their worlds.

The militaristic nature of the Confederacy, of course, also was known to make problems but he pushed that out of his mind.

He rose now, slowly. He breathed deeply as he made the first in fifteen of the stances, slowly twisting the ten inch blade and slashing. Cleared in mind, he followed the motions through. It may have been shadow play, but it was at least something.

It was deep into his third that he, with surprise, finally noticed the cyborg. He stopped, mid-pose. He straightened out and turned fully. "Hello, Mr. Claymore. I was unaware there was anyone here," he spoke.

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