2013.08.21 - The First Lesson

It's been several days since Zealots meeting with Spartan, a few days in which Zannah has been reacquainting herself with the Kheran Dreadnought that now comprises HALO towers. Soon enough, even with its corporate sheen, she has found that she feels strangely at home here.

However, this doesn't mean that she has stinted on her punishing training regimen. She is currently barefoot, clad in a HALO brand white vest and grey sweat pants, her Kheran Katanna blade in hand, executing a vast array of sword kata in the middle of the basketball court, the largest space she could find before she lost her temper in the endeavour of looking for it. One moment she is executing graceful motions with one hand on the blades hilt, in another near-savage two handed swings, the kheran steel whistling through the air. She is seemingly greatly focussed on the task at hand.

Nate has been involved in mutant business lately, dropping by Halo only rarely. The annoying presence of a certain telepathic critter (nicknamed the psi-potato) that won't stop 'singing', means he no longer comes to the building to sleep. But look, he just came today, and phasing through the window at high speed. Probably Spartan has told him ten times not to do that, but he has learned to make himself psychically invisible, and those that can resist his telepathy and that could be watching the Halo Towers probably already know too much about Halo. Now, a white-haired lady doing weapon katas with a blade in the basketball court is actually very typical. Rose does it quite often. And Nate is usually happy to see her. It takes Nate a couple seconds to realize the lady in question is not Rose, and by then he has almost landed in top of her. "Wait... who are you?!"

Zealot is reaching the crescendo of her current set of exercises, her blade moving in a quickening blur. At the very edge of her awareness, something pricks at her senses, but she can't quite fathom its origin. It's then that the figure phases through the window, causing Zealot to spring back into a defensive crouch, her sword held at guard position.

"By Hecate!" she snarls, regarding the newcomer with a scowl. "I could ask you the same question. I was under the impression that it was traditional to enter a building through its designated entrance, not drift through a wall like a wraith." When the newcomer expresses surprise rather than any move to attack, Zealot tilts her head slightly. "My name is Zealot. It is not a term of endearment. I can only assume you are one of Spartans chi..." She catches herself. "One of Spartans wards. And since I do not hear any alarms I assume you must be welcome here. However. You have broken my concentration and I would ask an apology of you before you continue."

Nate shifts momentum at the last second to land some yards away from Zealot. Not the best landing either, he grunts and then glares at the woman. "Ward? What?" Spartan was this robot they found in a junkyard, really! "I live here," he notes. Not entirely true, but there is a room with his name in the door. If the room is pretty much empty. The point about the alarms is valid, in the sense Zealot must be authorized to be here. He must have missed the memo, but hey, he was busy. Also, he was poisoned.

He will be damned if he apologies. But since she gave a name, or at least a codename. "I'm Scion. I thought you were... some other white-haired swordswoman." He seems almost smirking when he says that. How many other white-haired swordswoman can be around? Apparently at least another one! No, it is not an apology, but at least it is an explanation.

Zealot's expression darkens as no apology is forthcoming from the young man. "Clearly manners aren't on the curriculum," she murmurs irritatedly. She swings her sword to one side as if swatting a fly, before bringing the blade upright in front of her face, saluting an imaginary foe. Lowering the blade, she turns to regard Scion. "You are under the command of Spartan, correct? Your benefactor. The lord of this place. He is...an old ally of mine. He has been gracious enough to allow me access to my old quarters here."

Zealot's head inclines fractionally as Scion introduces himself, before mention of another swordswoman causes her to chuckle derisively. "I have heard tell of her. She is supposedly the daughter of a famous killer." She lifts her blade to eye height, scrutinising it. "I have found very few on this planet worthy of the name." Zealot crosses to where a scabbard has been placed on a nearby bench and reverently sheaths the blade. "So. Where do your talents lay? Spartan never had the reputation for surrounding himself with weaklings."

"You got it wrong, lady. Spartan owns Halo, but he is not lord, benefactor or anything..." he gestures around, "Oh, all this is pretty shiny, but it is still just junk. Not really important." He starts heading towards the more living areas, but Zealot asks something else. He frowns briefly, then turns back, "Do you know about Stormwatch, uh?" Yeah, Spartan's wards, sheesh. "I am a mutant, I got psychic powers. Flying... and moving through matter, those are telekinetic tricks."

Zealot maintains her hold on the sheathed blade with her right hand, lowering her arms to her sides. Her free hand bunches into a fist. As Scion talks about their surroundings as junk, her expression becomes murderous. "You are standing inside the hull of a Dreadnought class Kheran warship. It was the pinnacle of Kheran engineering when it was constructed. I will admit it has seen better days, but it has never been, nor will it ever be /junk/."

Zealot looks off to one side briefly. *By Hecate. Hadrian, who are these petty children you've surrounded yourself with?* she ponders silently. She returns her attention to Scion, her expression mostly unchanged as he explains his powers. "I see. Perhaps a demonstration is in order?" In a flash, Kheran steel is bared under the courts floodlights. "You have interrupted my training. You have insulted the endeavours of my homeworld. Defend yourself." Her tone is as cold as the steel in her hand, pure control. Zealot darts toward Scion, her blade raised to strike.

The battleship? Nate was inside when it was buried. He knows Hadrian (he calls himself Jack nowadays) got some pretty advanced machines out and back into working order, but he had no idea the towers /are/ the ship.

Or that Zealot was a Kheran, really!

So, he is somewhat surprised. But he reacts pretty quickly when the woman comes charging, shifting to a combat stance. But instead of striking physically, his left eye glows golden, and the air around himself shimmers as a powerful telekinetic wall is raised in the woman's path. "Coming to me with a sword, not a great idea."

Though it doesn't show on her face or body language, Zealots intent isn't to kill this young man. She intends to test him. The Daemonites are implacable foes and though she trusts Hadrians judgement, she wants to see his new teams capabilities for herself. While she was ready to bring the blade to a stop a hairs breadth away from Scions head, she takes the sudden upsurge in energy around her as a sign that he can take care of himself. Ancient Kheran steel impacts the telekinetic shield with a ringing metallic note that fills the basketball court, the blade deflected harmlessly.

Zealot's expression softens, if only just a little, as she peers at the telekinetic shield. "So it would appear. Impressive." She raises her blade and pokes at the shield, less forcefully this time, almost curious. "I haven't seen a shield of this resiliency in quite some time." Zealot catches Scions gaze, raising the blade once more to strike forcefully against the shield, to much the same effect. "Is that your only strategy? Hiding behind that shield? You fight like a coward."

"You are a guest," explains Nate. Then he grins ferally. "But fine, Jack can afford the repairs anyway." The shield glows brightly gold, then explodes outwardly as he pushes the telekinetic construct forward. It loses cohesion quickly, but it is still like being hit by a truck. The floor of the basketball court cracks and shatters, and Nate flies forward, blasting a yard-wide hole at a side of the Kheran woman with a blast from his glowing eye, punching through the metal floor as if it was paper.

Zealot's heightened senses can make out Scions words even over the ringing noise of her blade impacting against his shield. "Your ability to talk is not in question. I am still unconvinced of your ability to..." Her words are cut short as Scions telekinetic wave blasts her off of her feet. A string of Kheran curse words so foul they would make Nate's ancestors blush explode from Zannah's mouth as she is flung backwards into one of the internal walls with a shriek of metal and an explosion of plaster.

As the airborne debris clears, Zealot slowly rises to a sitting position, her sword still held in her hand. A trickle of blood flows from the corner of her mouth, which she wipes way with her free hand. She watches impassively as Scion flies closer and telekinetically punches through the floor with ease. Zealot's eyes meet his. Then her expression changes. A broad grin creeps on to her face. She even laughs, briefly. Staggering to her feet, she holds her sword vertically in front of her face, saluting Scion. "Now that is /exactly/ what I was looking for. Well met." Flicking an errant piece of wallpaper from her blade, Zealot leaves a trail of plaster dust in her wake as she makes her way from the basketball court. "I'm sorry I ever doubted you Hadrian," she murmurs.

Nate hmphs, "You are Spartan's kin, alright." But he seems amused by her testing, not bothered. Then he blinks, wondering if the red-clad woman is planning to do the same testing to the rest of the team. Because if so, he wants to watch. At least when she pokes Illyana and Rose!