Enheduanni Sleepers
Region: Domain Constellation: Throne Worlds Planet: Amarr Year: 21885 A D
Seated at the table was a dull unassuming looking man, Pompey Baracca, he had the sort of furtive demeanor that a scavenging creature creeping about in the lair of predators while desperately searching for scraps of food to survive had, fidgeting, never completely still, he nervously tapped his feet beneath him. He was of a decidedly dark complexion for an Amarrian, with dirty oily black shoulder length hair parted in the middle, which only served to emphasized his beak like prominent nose that protruded above his full black beard and mustache, on both sides of that fleshy protuberance his lifeless grey eyes like those of a slavers hound eyes darted around scanning the area. Pompey Baracca was a commoner, a wandering orphan of a family line that had never successfully grabbed a handhold on the next rung up in Amarrian society, he had failed miserably at most everything he attempted, save one, talking, he had an innate ability to pontificate with great effect on almost any matter of faith, sports, pop literature, holovid series, or politics. It was this solitary skill that had brought him to the cafe today, while serving up one of his not quite sober bar stool cultural lectures, a slightly older obese matronly woman of a Holder household had noticed him, she was far from attractive and of a noticeably diminished intellectual capacity, but the finery of her clothes spoke volumes to her status in Amarrian society, she had lingered on the periphery listening while taking shelter from the midday heat in the drinking establishment that served Pompey as his office.
She had been completely taken in by his smooth tongued eloquence and mistook his polish for sincerity, his mania for religious zeal, and she thought she had chanced upon an undiscovered, unlettered man of God. The woman, Daria, was the thirteenth daughter of twenty five children, in House Jerellah, far enough down the line to never challenge for the family hierarchy, or be noticed very often, her older and far better looking, privately educated sisters had long ago been married off to substantial Holder families to strengthen the family ties in the region. No such beneficial marriage had ever presented itself for her and she had resigned herself to never finding a suitable husband acceptable to her family that would increase their status. In her lustful desperation she had sought approval from her father to marry among the commoners, although not frequently done In Amarrian society her father who deeply loved his “special” daughter had granted it with stipulations, the man needed to have no criminal record, and he needed to be a devout religious practitioner, House Jerellah, among other things were well respected calligraphers that served even the newly formed Theology Council, it was the one family skill that Daria had inherited.
The courtship had gone on for six months, Pompey was if nothing else careful, he had not transgressed across any lines that could reflect poorly on his character or honor as a pious Amarrian gentlemen in the company of a unmarried Amarrian woman, an as difficult as it had been he had never allowed her to spend a single isk of her own resources, he had borne the cost entirely and his accounts were running dangerously low. The marriage had been a spectacular event, the isk spent on it could have sustained him for more than a year, now recently back from his honeymoon, his new father in law had arranged for him to obtain more gainful employment capable of supporting a family in a manner he found acceptable. Pompey was to courier ancient sacred “Scriptures” for the Theology Council to House Jerellah for replication in their florid hand written calligraphic style. These original manuscripts were priceless and of great religious value to the Amarrian people and they were scattered all over the Empire. Pompey had been enrolled in flight school upon his return and the man he was meeting had been assigned as his personal instructor and was delivering a frigate that would be at the disposal of Pompey to fulfill his role as a Theological courier. Pompey reflected back on the dramatic change in fortunes his life had undergone over the past seven months, it had went from struggling street guttersnipe commoner to a comfortable holder lifestyle with the exchange of a few ancient marriage vows. Pompey thought back to their honeymoon and the volumes of pale white flab he had to burrow through to consummate the marriage, and it made him want to vomit, he nervously gulped down Quafe to vanquish the taste of bile from his mouth. At best he was mildly interested in women, because they provided a means to perpetuate his family name, he however much preferred sexual encounters with young boys, usually slaves or even more down and out commoners then he had been, but if screwing his sow of a bride was the small, albeit disgusting price exacted to move what could now legitimately be called House Baracca up several rungs of the Amarrian social ladder he would readily endure it all the remaining days of his life.
As his pilot instructor joined him at the table with the documents of ownership for his new Purifier Inquisitor Class frigate he looked forward to the next several months of intense training that would keep him in space and far from the clammy embrace of his blushing rotund bride. Across the plaza a pair of eyes closely followed his encounter and logged it in a datapad, the Pompey Baracca clone had successfully implanted itself into Amarrian society with almost unrestricted access to the Theology Council and the sacred scriptures, it/ he now unknowingly carried in his genetic code abilities far beyond that of normal humans, he would pass them on to all his descendants buried deep and dormant awaiting their eventual activation signal to further the Enheduanni cause.