I don't know if its the loss of blood, or if I completely missed the question, but I give Uriah I confused look. I thought I already told him what the Old Man needed to know?
Hearing Iacton explain Rico ran off alone I focus on him as best I can.
"Damn fool, Johnnie... The thing possessing the Eviserator can see the future. It already knows where he is going to be long before even Johnnie is aware of where he is going. Its not accurate though, must only get snap shots. I was able to bluff it. Didn't do me much good, but it can be tricked. Johnnie's a solid one to have by your side in a firefight, but damn he isn't a cunning one. That thing is, and its getting impatient."
"So Brek, and the others are chasing after him I suppose?" I'm guessing Ishmael isn't getting up from his bed for awhile.
"What Feather?"
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Lexmechanic Gulvar regards you blankly, still boring a hole through you with his runny-egg eyes. When he speaks, it is loudly again, the trumpet-like augmetic where his mouth should be seemingly having no other setting. At least it lets him be heard over the cacophony spooling paper and clicking keys.
"YOU are not Warden-Colonel KREED. Yet, you come with his AUTHORIZATION. You are here as his PROXY then. This is paradoxical. I was notified to begin an INQUIRY into you section's terminal activities. It is most IRREGULAR for the subject of an inquiry to come HERE."
"Adjutant Triggs instructed me to liaise with you on this matter, I find it most irregular that he doesn't trust you to complete the job without assistance. In any case, as the senior Administrarium clerk I am charged with keeping fully abreast of all matters relating to the claustrum's clerical staff, which includes the present investigation. I would generally trust you to do your job properly, but Triggs insisted that my intervention was required."
"So Brek, and the others are chasing after him I suppose?" I'm guessing Ishmael isn't getting up from his bed for awhile.
"They are dealing with the traitors in the penal colony. I wish I could join them, but my duties here are more important."
"What Feather?"
"I thought you knew. We found a daemonic feather hidden in Master Krade's office. I took it, to keep it safe. It is currently in a warded container under Mr Danicos' protection."
"I need to tell both of you something. I have spoken with Master Krade tonight. If I said how, you would think me mad. He told me the Eviscerator is a daemon, bound here as surely as any other prisoner in a cell. The feather is the key to free him."
"He also said to seek him where the veil is parted, and something about the key, his freedom and the cherubim." Iacton sits and stares at the two of you, waiting for a reaction.
"Why should Ishmael and I be the only ones having the pleasure of visions. Welcome to my reality, Iacton. I know we have a key, but I am not sure if that is the same key. We have the feather. I suspected our enemy could see the future, when I saw the statuettes and the fact that they seemed to be one step ahead of us. No Iacton, I do not think your any madder then the rest of us. If you do get any more visions, please tell me. And to answer your question Savalos, the others are on a information finding mission. As for Rico, he is letting his emotions get the better of him, and went off without asking permission, and if he does not return soon, I will have to declare him rogue.
"So Brek, and the others are chasing after him I suppose?" I'm guessing Ishmael isn't getting up from his bed for awhile."They are dealing with the traitors in the penal colony. I wish I could join them, but my duties here are more important."
"What Feather?""I thought you knew. We found a daemonic feather hidden in Master Krade's office. I took it, to keep it safe. It is currently in a warded container under Mr Danicos' protection."
"I need to tell both of you something. I have spoken with Master Krade tonight. If I said how, you would think me mad. He told me the Eviscerator is a daemon, bound here as surely as any other prisoner in a cell. The feather is the key to free him."
"He also said to seek him where the veil is parted, and something about the key, his freedom and the cherubim." Iacton sits and stares at the two of you, waiting for a reaction.
I watch Aebena carefully. Its time she got some straight answers, and knows what she is up against. I'm sure everything thats going on is overwhelming for her.
"Aebe, we work for the Inquisition. Alot of bad things have started here, and we are trying to stop it. We fail, and everything will be lost. Not just Oremor, but possibly the whole sector."
I wait, and watch as the words sink in. I know she loves me, but what is implied, and not asked is alot. Is she willing to share a live with me to help stop the horrors?
"I wouldn't leave it then with Dunkan. It will only be a matter of time before the Eviserator finds the place. I'm sure he wants to drop the Eviserator as hot merchandise. He's an unreliable nutjob, easy to manipulate."
"So then is our next stop the Withdrawn Veil, or we continue as planned?"
"Our orders from the Master are threefold. We are to rescue Krade, We are to stop the Malleus with full inquisitional authority, and with Krade's aid, if he is in condition to help us, keep the prisoner confined. If not, we are to take over the task. I am willing to add Quincus' rescue, because she is in trouble because of our enemies. I also must make a report to our Master. I ask you Savalos, what order of our goals make the most sense, since you know the stakes and this is your homeworld, you know it better than Iacton and I ever could."
"One other thing, the feather's nature is such I cannot approach it. I cannot not touch it. Iacton has a piece of cloth that allows him to hold it on him. You should of not given up custody of the feather without speaking to me first, Iacton."
"I wouldn't leave it then with Dunkan. It will only be a matter of time before the Eviserator finds the place. I'm sure he wants to drop the Eviserator as hot merchandise. He's an unreliable nutjob, easy to manipulate."
"No. Danicos knows enough about the feather to fear it, and he is not the type to suffer Chaos lightly. Also, we made a deal. Danicos is many things, but a traitor is not one of them."
"Besides, what would you rather we do with it? I have carried it's weight upon my back for long enough, and if I thought I could handle it's heat for a moment longer I wouldn't of entrusted it with Danicos. Do you think you could do any better?"
"So then is our next stop the Withdrawn Veil, or we continue as planned?"
"Leprade will pay for his betrayal, and I will find Master Krade. Whichever path the Emperor leads me down to accomplish that, I will take."
"Laprade will pay. If he is involved in Malleus, he is ours to punish, if he he is a traitor and not involved in Malleus, he is yours. That will be after we talk to him. I already said we will go to find Krade. I do understand what pressures the Immaterium can bear on a person. If you felt in your soul you could not have it on your person any longer, then you did the right thing. Danicos must be warned that The Eviscerator is after the feather."
I close my eyes while I listen to the exchange. Listening how the words are formed and said. Alot is being passed back and forth, and in this way its makes it a bit easier for me to collect and remember the information.
"We should save Sunshine cause its our fault she got put in danger in the first place. Doesn't matter whats holding her its just the right thing to do."
"What would I do? The orders are simple enough, and I'm guessing Krade, and Sunshine are both at the Withdrawn Veil. But in order for us to do that there are several things we have to consider. Without proper intel, and support we will be walking in blind."
"I suggest that I contact the Duct Wolves. Aebena and I are family, and they will talk with us. We need allies, and numbers if we want to put any serious pressure on Leprade, or the Yellobacks. After that lets continue with our original plan to go to the casino. While others peak around The Veil. After that we can head there get an update, and take action."
"Not griefing on you Iacton. Far from it. Believe me I have confidence in Dunkan, and his abilities. My concern rests with those with split loyalities. What I am suggesting is this Feather would be alot safer on the move than it staying in a stationary place. Its our burden to safeguard it. Not to drop it into the lap of Dunkan and his people to protect it for us. Don't you think enough people have died over this? The Eviserator will find the hideout. It will just take time, and he is loosing patience. It went from killing the lone victim to just wide spread butchery."
"As far as keeping the Feather . I don't its my burden to bare. Though the Eviserator is my burden, and I will kill the bastage. For the love, and memory of my father, and to protect my family I will settle this blood debt."
I look over to Aebena, and open my eyes. I know Waldrimm won't stop til he kills my mother, and Aebena to hurt me.
"Aebe, I will need you to teach me how to read. I have alot I need to understand."
How does one kill, or banish a Daemon. Just like it said, nothing personal, but I want the one its possessing dead.
"Above all we need to contact the Old Man first. We die then everything we learned is for nothing."
"I do not know the answer to how we defeat that powerful a daemon, Savalos, but I believe your order of priorities is correct. I already said that we add rescuing Quincus, because we did get her into this. I do not know who will safeguard the feather, except that it cannot be me for the reasons I already stated. I would of said Rico, but he seems vulnerable right now. I had Iacton carry it, for his master was safeguarding it. I am thinking Albrek, when he gets back. Whoever carries it has to also use that cloth of yours, Iacton. It does show that the Daemon and The Eviscerator can not see the future perfectly, for the fact he went after the one of us who did not know of the feather. This gives me hope that there is a way of defeating them.
May The Emperor in his light reveal this to us, the way to defeat such an enemy of humanity."
I make the sign of the Aquila as I say this. After that, I pull out the golden aquila and hand it to Savalos.
"I believe this is your burden to carry."
That will be after we talk to him.
"So, we will catch him, he will tell us what he knows, then he will die. Justice deferred is still justice."
"Not griefing on you Iacton. Far from it. Believe me I have confidence in Dunkan, and his abilities. My concern rests with those with split loyalities. What I am suggesting is this Feather would be alot safer on the move than it staying in a stationary place. Its our burden to safeguard it. Not to drop it into the lap of Dunkan and his people to protect it for us. Don't you think enough people have died over this? The Eviserator will find the hideout. It will just take time, and he is loosing patience. It went from killing the lone victim to just wide spread butchery."
"Fine. If both of you believe the feather would be safer in my possession, I will take it. I may go mad, but better I sacrifice than anyone else."
"Not sure what the best option for who to carry it is. Just think its safer having it on the move than sitting in one spot. What did Krade say about it? Don't want you become a whack job Iacton. We already loosing enough peoples sanity over this."
"I do not think anyone knew about it. We found it hidden in a game of regicide."
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Adjutant Triggs instructed me to liaise with you on this matter, I find it most irregular that he doesn't trust you to complete the job without assistance. In any case, as the senior Administrarium clerk I am charged with keeping fully abreast of all matters relating to the claustrum's clerical staff, which includes the present investigation. I would generally trust you to do your job properly, but Triggs insisted that my intervention was required."
Lexmechanic Gulvar does not frown, does not show surprise, does not even show any acknowledgment that you have even spoken to him, such is the absence of expression on his face. When he speaks again through the amplified vox, it is even louder than before, as much of the automated noise at his workstation has ceased with the distraction you have presented.
"Senior Clerk SEPHERIS, my proficiency in assimilating and analyzing the relevant DATA is beyond reproach. Adjutant TRIGGS specified that the investigation and INTELLIGENCE output by the exploratory data analysis should remain CONFIDENTIAL. However, your POSSESSION of the Warden-Colonel's ward TOKEN is sufficient proof of your position in the relevant AUTHORIZATION hierarchy. You are also CORRECT in your assumption that I require no ASSISTANCE in this cogitation. As required by my DIRECTIVES as a servant of the Omnissiah owing FEALTY to the claustrum and the recognized AUTHORITY governing it, I will ACCEDE to your presence as an OBSERVER."
You think that is a yes.
It almost seems that there is some small shred of human pride still present in the cold and machine-like lexmechanic, for you think it was your intimation that Triggs doubted his competency and your own professed confidence in his abilities that turned the trick just now. Go figure.
Shaultus Transhipping Warehouse ~ The Ready Room
Aebena sits at one end of the table, at a total loss for words in her blood-sodden pajamas. She keeps her eyes moving back and forth between the three acolytes as they converse, trying to make sense of what they are saying. When Savalos asks her to teach him to read, she gives him a look that suggests that his question is the last thing she expected him to ask under the circumstances. She recovers from her surprise quickly enough, giving Sav a wan, tired, smile before answering:
"I will."
The door opens slowly to admit Stroinigli again, followed by a harried looking Nessa, her medicae gown covered in a light, charcoal-colored jacket with the logo for Shaultus Transhipping embroidered upon the breast. Standing in the doorway between the two of them is an unexpected sight. Sigmunt, clad in a Shaultus coverall and carrying a packed musette bag over his shoulder nods into the room at Savalos. Seeing the golden aquila sitting on the table in front of his fellow Duct Wolf, he makes the sign of the aquila reverently.
There is no question that the twist, Stroinigli, is perceptive, he seems to sense the change in the room; the absence of dust, the warmer light still emanating from the lumen strips. He even retrieves the beverage can from the floor, examining it curiously. Looking Savalos over, he notices the oddly-colored scar and narrows his eyes. It is apparent that he has heard of what happened to Sigmunt, because his eyes quickly flick over the aquila as well.
"Fren, what happened here?"
Seeing the blood covering Aebena's clothing, Nessa moves across the room, oblivious to everything else.
"It's obvious, Stroin', someone's bleeding out."
She pulls Aebena's wrist up to check her vitals, looking at her bloody clothing with deep concern. Examining her more closely, she looks around, confusion evident on her face when she discovers no major injuries.
"Who is wounded, anyway?"
I smile at Aebena's reply, though I know she will grill me later.
"It was me making a mess of the place Nessa. Uriah using the Golden Aquila patched me up some. Still 'urting though, think its from the gunshot, and a messed up my ankle some, but probably can walk it off in time."
Seeing Sig I immediately get back on focus. "Sig, the Old She Wolf is in danger. The Eviserator is hunting her."
"I healed him the best I could. He would of died if I waited for you, no offense meant to your skills. we just could not wait. He is still hurt though."
Shaultus Transhipping Warehouse ~ The Ready Room
Nessa looks at Uriah suspiciously, starting to realize full well what the voidborn is implying. Pulling aside Savalos' tunic and furs, she begins to disinfect the wound with the rote efficiency of someone who has performed the task countless times before. Applying a sterile bandage to the wound, she turns to the acolyte's foot, first checking the range of motion, and then wrapping a cold compress around Sav's ankle.
Although she performs the first aid with all the expertise you have grown accustomed to, it is obvious by her demeanor that she still is aggrieved somewhat by the argument that occurred after the miraculous event in the surgery. Standing, she crosses her arms over her chest and stands near Stroinigli by the wall.
"You'll live."
She looks at the scar tissue on Savalos' cheek and glances warily at Uriah again.
"By the amount of blood here, your other wound was dire, and you were fortunate to have your friend on hand. I would warn you against trusting the fickle nature of the Warp in matters of healing, however. It is my experience that such things always come at a price."
Glancing at Sigmunt, Nessa shrugs, as if to say she is used to having her medical opinions disregarded by the foolish.
"When he heard where I was going, he insisted that he be allowed to come with us despite my remonstrations that he needed more rest. Apparently the beneficiaries of miracles lose whatever good sense they once had upon being brought back from the dead."
On hearing Savalos mention the She-Wolf, Sigmunt frowns, the faintly chagrined expression on his face from Nessa's scolding fading so fast to grim concern that it almost appears like a parlor trick. A man of few words, the unassuming hitman favors you with a few.
"She is one of the last of the pack leaders. We cannot allow harm to come to your mother. The She-Wolf and a handful of others are all that are holding the Duct Wolves together, Sav."
On some level it is truly disturbing. There is nothing about Sigmunt's physical condition to indicate that he was ever injured, so complete is his recovery. It appears he showered and cleaned himself up as well, returning to his utterly impeccable and obsessively clean appearance. Were it not for the logo on his new coverall, he looks almost exactly as he did when you first encountered him in the Gear Box.
Stroinigli cracks open the beverage with a hiss of pent-up carbonation, and takes a sip. Looking around the room, it appears his nerves are just now settling after the horrific events at Aebena's hab.
"You are all correct, we cannot fight that thing. It tore apart a dozen Yelloback enforcers like they were nothing. The strange thing is, if they were watching the girl's hab and waiting on Savvy here to snuff him, why would that thing go through all the trouble of killing them all...especially when the boss says that they're allied? Wouldn't it make more sense for it to just let them kill you both?"
He pauses thoughtfully.
"More to the point, what the hell do we do now?"
"Like I said, I would of waited for you if it was not dire. As to what to do with the Eviscerator, It is a more powerful daemon then the others we fought here. We are going to have to found a weakness and exploit it."
Seeing Nessa still a bit sensitive over our argument I try to soften the mood in the room some.
"Thanks for the patching Nessa. No offense to Uriah, but I'd rather trust to a stitch job any day; unfortunately by the look on everyones faces I didn't have time to wait. I'm sure you'll have plenty of opportunities to stitch me up later before all this is through."
"Just don't snap on a rubber glove tell me to turn my head and cough..." I say with some humor.
Looking to Sigmunt, "I need to see her Sig. Found out its family business that needs settling. My Pops..."
"Honestly Stroinigli, I have no fragging clue what can hurt that thing. We need to hide, strike, and hide again."
I close my eyes again rubbing them trying to remember everything on the fire escape. Subtle details that were mentioned in mine and the Eviserators brief converation.
"The Eviserator said he was going to kill me, then Aebena, and finally The Clerk... You think thats Quincus, or is there somebody else we need to find before they are snuffed? He mentioned the game of Regicide as well. Iacton I really think we need to get ahold of the game board from Krades office. I have a hunch the game pieces are all the players in its game."
I pick up the Golden Aquila, and put it back in my bloody furs. I look up at Aebena, and realize she is completely covered in my blood. "Nes, would you be kind enough to give Aebena a change of clothes, and escort her to a shower?"
"As for why the Eviserator killed the Yellobacks, that simple. Its causing terror. Look at it this way its setting the stage for something. The Yellobacks have lost close to 20 men in the last few days. They are the largest gang, and are helpless. Doesn't matter if we killed them or he did. They are helpless. It has already shown for years that the Arbites are powerless and too corrupt to stop it. Its seeking out every institution of refuge, and shattering that image. Why else go through all the trouble at the Mercy, Aebe's apt... What do people do when they are afraid, they hole up. When people hole up it gives you freedom of movement, and lets you see opprotunites. If we don't hole up at the right time, then the Eviserator knows we are sitting at a strong point giving away our position. We hole up too early, he sees we are afraid, and still knows where we are. Same thing goes for the Wolves, and my Mother. He wants to carve her up slowly. I can't let that happen."
"It also wanted to know where the item it was looking for is. Let the Yellobacks kill me, and he looses that lead. He also learned he can't deal with me."
I touch the scar on my face, and wonder what other prices I have to pay in my decision.
"Though, it still has Johnnie out there, and Sunshine as bait..." Would Johnnie sell his soul? He is definately not the man I remember growing up with.
"To answer your question Stroinigli, we need to smuggle Uriah back to the Astropathic Choir to send a message, and warning. We need whatever information we can get to kill this Daemon before it hunts each and every one of us down. Something has to hurt it otherwise we are..."
"Has anyone seen if Kalaziel has come back yet?" I stop for a minute and think. Worried that I might have lost what was left of Maia forever. I thumb the toy I gave her years ago in my pocket.
"Stroin, you can't be going around in your rickshaw anymore. It knows your face, and your as marked as the rest of us. Its not safe for Nessa either. Don't want to see either of you get hurt. Is there any way that it could have followed us here?"
I think about the Eviserators victims, and what the Daemon inside told me what kind of women Waldrimm liked to kill. Nessa is just as much of a target as Aebena is. I know Stroin heard every last word over the microbead as well.
"Stroin, you will need to keep Nessa safe."
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
Oktammor's cargo-8 driver positions the heavy truck adjacent to a triangular stack of cobalt-blue shipping containers, lining up the vehicle so that it provides an interposing screen for line of sight from the steam-wreathed Guard shuttle positioned on Platform #7, in the shadow of an inactive crane tower. From the spy-holes in the back of the cargo-8's reinforced cargo area you have an excellent view of the bird on its three-meter high elevated platform, from about thirty meters away, across a busy loading concourse.
Panning the magnoculars back and forth, Kaltos sees no activity on the landing pad at present. The aged churraptus-class shuttle appears to be locked down tight, service and fueling conduits extending from its rust-speckled belly like coils of spilled viscera.
Moving to your side with a wheezing of armoured hydraulics, Oktammor peers out of one of the viewports.
"Looks like nobody is home. Let's keep an eye on things for a while, maybe they're all holed up inside."
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
Oktammor's cargo-8 driver positions the heavy truck adjacent to a triangular stack of cobalt-blue shipping containers, lining up the vehicle so that it provides an interposing screen for line of sight from the steam-wreathed Guard shuttle positioned on Platform #7, in the shadow of an inactive crane tower. From the spy-holes in the back of the cargo-8's reinforced cargo area you have an excellent view of the bird on its three-meter high elevated platform, from about thirty meters away, across a busy loading concourse.
Panning the magnoculars back and forth, Kaltos sees no activity on the landing pad at present. The aged churraptus-class shuttle appears to be locked down tight, service and fueling conduits extending from its rust-speckled belly like coils of spilled viscera.
Moving to your side with a wheezing of armoured hydraulics, Oktammor peers out of one of the viewports.
"Looks like nobody is home. Let's keep an eye on things for a while, maybe they're all holed up inside."
"I am also going to see if they are hiding out in the surrounding buildings and cargo. I am going to read out cords like before."
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Thank you Lexmechanic, feel free to ask me if you care for assistance. By all means, please proceed with your analysis."
Vincent sidles around the techpriest for a better view of his work, but is careful not to distract the Omnissian.
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
,
Sweeping your magnoculars around the landing platform, you see no outward sign of the shuttle's crew or Guard passengers. In fact, as you call out coordinates to Oktammor, it is quite clear that the only activity going on is the refueling operation. Even the armor-plas canopy of the craft is unlit, like a blinded eye. The fuel bowser connected to the bird appears to have been left behind by one of the servitor tractors you observed meandering about earlier and it is performing its function automatically.
The screeching sound of a container-covered platform being raised by the infirm hydraulics of a nearby crane drowns out everything for a moment, jarring you from where you concentration was converging on the shuttlecraft. Pulling your head back, you shake it uncertainly in negation in the direction of Danicos' heavily armored bodyguard.
Oktammor shakes his own head, returning the gesture, mystified.
"Our last spotter had two guardsmen watching the pad as of an hour ago. Where the hell did they go?"
He confers with some of Danicos' enforcers, trying to get a sense of just who observed the rogue guardsmen last. By Oktammor's agitated voice, you suspect he is not having much success.
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Thank you Lexmechanic, feel free to ask me if you care for assistance. By all means, please proceed with your analysis."
Vincent sidles around the techpriest for a better view of his work, but is careful not to distract the Omnissian.
With a burst of chirruping feedback that signals his vox-phone switching off, Lexmechanic Gulvar swivels on his screw-actuated torso, away from Sepheris and around to face his console again. Vincent need not be concerned about distracting the tech-priest, for almost immediately he interfaces again with his workstation, paying as much attention to the Senior Clerk as a grazing quadruped does to the birds that alight upon its back. Apparently, the ward token given to you by the Warden-Colonel has satisfied his security concerns completely.
Amid the constant machine chatter of the Lexmechanica, Gulvar continues about his task, his claw-like hand of auto-quills scribbling away with perfect, flourished script, many of the finger-pens working independently of one another. An occasional rustle of feathery noise signals activity within his chassis, like a harbinger of incoming data, before a spool of scrolling parchment emerges from one of the slots in his chest. He rips these off along the toothy, razor-sharp edges along the seams, rolling and stacking them along the many spindles protruding from the wall.
This continues for what seems like hours, your ears gradually becoming benumbed by the interminable noise echoing throughout the vast chamber. A thin sheen of parchment dust begins settling upon your clothing and your skin feels the occasional spatter from a flying drop of rogue ink, landing on you like the forewarning of a coming summer storm. At about the time you would give your eye teeth for a chair of some kind to rest your weary legs, Lexmechanic Gulvar abruptly stops scribbling. The cogitator before him cycles down with the sound of a dying engine, and he collects a handful of the parchment reams before slowly rotating around to face you again. His wet, blank eyes stare at you from just above the vox-phone, blinking only when the device trumpets to life again with a squawk of displaced air.
"My final analysis is COMPLETE, Senior Clerk Sepheris. Confirming the initial data analysis has required TRANSFORMATION of dichotomous categorical data based on unexpected returns of non-normal variables and data in ABSENTIA found in the process of data cleaning. After the elimination of DELIBERATELY placed outliers in the logging code, it can be determined with 97.77777% accuracy, with a mean margin of error tabulated at plus/minus .79% that the remote access GAINED to the secure personnel datafiles was perpetuated from your terminal within the Senior Clerical Division's designated cogitator ARRAY."
"Predicting the follow-up INQUIRY suspected of Adjutant Triggs, with a likelihood of 95.77155% queried, I have conducted a SECOND qualitative analysis from compiled access logs by claustrum identification CREDENTIALS and determined with 99.99997% percent likelihood based on all variables considered, that you, Senior Clerk Vincent SEPHERIS was responsible for the specified data BREACH."
The vox-phone goes silent again, and you find yourself deliberately yawning to clear your blocked ears from the sonic hammering they were taking with each trumpet-blast of Gulvar's emphasized words. The wet, egg-like eyes stare at you disinterestedly again. The lexmechanic holds out an ink-drenched scroll of parchment, just now starting to dry, to you in his normal hand. Covered in binary computations, your name is writ upon the tailing end in a flourish of large script like a signatory warrant of declamatory guilt.
Despite being caught red-handed by Gulvar's analytics, he appears in no hurry to do anything about it. The tech-priest still seems to be docilely acceding to your authority. When he loudly speaks again, you start reflexively, imagining the cold iron hands of servitors clapping upon you like shackles to lead you before Triggs. His words are reassuring, however, in a strident, mechanical, way.
"Do you require anything FURTHER, Senior Clerk Sepheris, duly authorized proxy of Warden-Colonel KREED?"
Gulvar only is concerned with his data, not the use to which it is put.
Shaultus Transhipping Warehouse ~ The Ready Room
As the two groups of acolytes begin to wind down their discussion, Nessa looks over to the exhausted-looking Aebena with unmistakable sympathy, relaxing the hardened demeanor she has carried throughout the conversation so far.
"Whatever it is the rest of you plan on doing, I'm not going to wait forever while you decide. The girl needs clean clothes, and is showing every indicator that she is in shock. She needs to get cleaned up and examined. I don't think that sitting in blood-drenched night-garments while a bunch of Ordos-types discuss the merits of combating an unstoppable daemon are doing any good for her immediate well-being."
"With your permission and hers, I'd like to bring her below and treat her in the medicae."
I simply nod my approval, and watch as the two women leave the room.
"So whats it going to be Uriah? Go to the Gran Pallazar, contact the Old Man, or make an alliance with my family first? Don't think we have alot of time for debate, and I admit I am a bit selfish and want to be there when Aebena comes back to her senses. So the quicker we move the better."
"Personally I think we make contact with my Family, then contact the Old Man with hopefully some good news before he decides to slag the whole planet, then back the Gran Pallazar."
"If not them we split up, me and Sig to the Duct Wolves, Uriah talk to the Old Man, Iacton at the Gran Pallazar as our eyes til we all can converge. Something happens then at least one of us will be there to act."
"Oh by the way, where did you two get those nice suits?"
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
,Sweeping your magnoculars around the landing platform, you see no outward sign of the shuttle's crew or Guard passengers. In fact, as you call out coordinates to Oktammor, it is quite clear that the only activity going on is the refueling operation. Even the armor-plas canopy of the craft is unlit, like a blinded eye. The fuel bowser connected to the bird appears to have been left behind by one of the servitor tractors you observed meandering about earlier and it is performing its function automatically.
The screeching sound of a container-covered platform being raised by the infirm hydraulics of a nearby crane drowns out everything for a moment, jarring you from where you concentration was converging on the shuttlecraft. Pulling your head back, you shake it uncertainly in negation in the direction of Danicos' heavily armored bodyguard.
Oktammor shakes his own head, returning the gesture, mystified.
"Our last spotter had two guardsmen watching the pad as of an hour ago. Where the hell did they go?"
He confers with some of Danicos' enforcers, trying to get a sense of just who observed the rogue guardsmen last. By Oktammor's agitated voice, you suspect he is not having much success.
"If you can give me more exact locations I can try again to find them."
I simply nod my approval, and watch as the two women leave the room.
"So whats it going to be Uriah? Go to the Gran Pallazar, contact the Old Man, or make an alliance with my family first? Don't think we have alot of time for debate, and I admit I am a bit selfish and want to be there when Aebena comes back to her senses. So the quicker we move the better."
"Personally I think we make contact with my Family, then contact the Old Man with hopefully some good news before he decides to slag the whole planet, then back the Gran Pallazar."
"If not them we split up, me and Sig to the Duct Wolves, Uriah talk to the Old Man, Iacton at the Gran Pallazar as our eyes til we all can converge. Something happens then at least one of us will be there to act."
"Oh by the way, where did you two get those nice suits?"
"I think the order you suggested makes sense. I do not want us to be in separate groups considering we have a powerful daemon after us.
Oktammor supplied the equipment. I was told they should have equipment for you also."
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Thank you Lexmechanic," Vincent says as he takes the offered parchment.
"Your efficiency is impressive, I hope Mars continues to send us personnel of your caliber."
"Now," Vincent clears his throat before continuing.
"Given your success in unraveling the obfuscations I constructed, its seems you would be an ideal candidate for a rather important piece of analysis. The pictcorder data for the last twenty eight days needs to be analyzed and the irregularities and crimes depicted there in need to be documented."
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
"If you can give me more exact locations I can try again to find them."
Unsatisfied with the confused answers obtained from his subordinates, Oktammor raises his own magnoculars to one of the viewports and peers through them intently. He drops them to his chest a few seconds later, his frustration clearly growing.
"They're just not there anymore. Only an hour ago they had two guardsmen standing watch on the platform. One at the base of the bird's loading ramp and another patrolling a circuit around the pad."
Oktammor furrows his brow thoughtfully.
"They would be foolish to leave the shuttle unguarded, especially under the circumstances. I doubt they would have abandoned it, either, that would be tantamount to going AWOL and tipping their hand. No, they must have left someone watching the shuttle. We just haven't found them yet."
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
Albrek holds out his hand, wordlessly asking to borrow Oktammor's magnoculars. Taking them in hand, he puts them to the IR goggles covering his eyes, just below the rim of his flak helmet. Finding the range, he begins to pan across the field of view offered from the narrow port in the side of the cargo-8.
"If you want to find a guardsman, you need to think like a guardsman. Fortunately, I've been doing just that for some time."
The acolyte turns this way and that, squatting to get a better view of what is above, and leaning far to either side to see further along the perimeter of the platform.
Albrek grunts in irritation.
"Damn...nothing."
"With the protocols in place, someone from that churraptus needs to be checking in hourly via the transponder with control at the claustrum. Oktammor is right, if they've abandoned it, they're as much as admitting that they have gone rogue to the 7th Legion."
Chewing his lip, and letting out a dry cough, the ex-guardsman looks to the others.
"The question now, is, if they're not at the shuttle, just where the hell did they go?"
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Thank you Lexmechanic," Vincent says as he takes the offered parchment.
"Your efficiency is impressive, I hope Mars continues to send us personnel of your caliber."
"Now," Vincent clears his throat before continuing.
"Given your success in unraveling the obfuscations I constructed, its seems you would be an ideal candidate for a rather important piece of analysis. The pictcorder data for the last twenty eight days needs to be analyzed and the irregularities and crimes depicted there in need to be documented."
Gulvar accepts your compliment with the equanimity of a toaster.
Oblivious to the duplicity occurring here, his mind far too analytical to grasp the nuances of your lie, Lexmechanic Gulvar speaks again.
"Prior to initiating this new TASK shall I forward the results of the previous analysis to Adjutant TRIGGS via cogitator to apprise him of our FINDINGS?"
Shaultus Transhipping Warehouse ~ The Ready Room
I simply nod my approval, and watch as the two women leave the room.
Without protest, but obviously not herself, Aebena allows Nessa to lead her out. As she goes, her right hand trails over yours, a fleeting touch of the fingers that tell you without a single word so much.
I trust you. Be careful. Come back to me.
"Oh by the way, where did you two get those nice suits?"
Stronigli motions for Sigmunt to come forward, and the Duct Wolves' human eraser, as if remembering something, flips the heavy kit bag on to the table in front of Savalos.
The twist smiles.
"We did the best we could, I hope it fits."
Stroinigli then looks between the three acolytes and nods.
"I'll warm up the car and meet you below when you are ready."
"My only question about going to your family first, is the possibility of our enemy using you to find them. If that is not a problem, then I accept our first task is going to your family."
"My only question about going to your family first, is the possibility of our enemy using you to find them. If that is not a problem, then I accept our first task is going to your family."
As my fingers brush against Aebena's I whisper a prayer hoping it won't be the last time I touch them. Goodbyes suck, and I have said too many of them. Next time I want to hold her, and not worry about a door being kicked in, or any damn daemons stalking after us. Just to hold her and be content in that moment. My eyes follow after her as she leaves the room.
With a heavy sigh I reply:
"Well if thats true, then the same would be true for our current location making it compromised."
"I think its best we talk to them, and give them a heads up on whats going on. You concur Sig?"
"Thanks for the loot Stroinigli. I will make sure I put it all to good use."
I have no shame in putting on the bodysuit, and throwing my furs on over them. Would feel naked without my furs... I finish by filling my pockets with whatever items I can't store on a belt or harness.
"My only question about going to your family first, is the possibility of our enemy using you to find them. If that is not a problem, then I accept our first task is going to your family."
"If they find his family, then they find his family. For now, the benefits outweigh the risks."
"Should I take the feather with me, or would you rather it stayed here tonight?"
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Gulvar accepts your compliment with the equanimity of a toaster.
Oblivious to the duplicity occurring here, his mind far too analytical to grasp the nuances of your lie, Lexmechanic Gulvar speaks again.
"Prior to initiating this new TASK shall I forward the results of the previous analysis to Adjutant TRIGGS via cogitator to apprise him of our FINDINGS?"
"That will not be necessary. I am afraid that Adjutant Trigg's knowledge of cogitator systems is too infantile to comprehend such a missive. I shall ensure he is properly informed."
Vincent's lie sounds far more believable to he before he speaks it, he can only hope that the Lexmechanic's obliviousness continues.
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"That will not be necessary. I am afraid that Adjutant Trigg's knowledge of cogitator systems is too infantile to comprehend such a missive. I shall ensure he is properly informed."
Vincent's lie sounds far more believable to him before he speaks it, he can only hope that the Lexmechanic's obliviousness continues.
There isn't any outward sign whatsoever that Gulvar believes or disbelieves your lie. He is simply inscrutable. The vox-phone blares to life again.
"I will initiate the SECONDARY cogitational analysis that you have requested, Senior Clerk SEPHERIS. The process will require data COMPILATION estimated at one hour, seventeen minutes, thirty seconds, an initial ANALYSIS estimated at forty-nine minutes, fifteen seconds, a period of primary data SIFTING estimated at forty-four minutes, ten seconds, and a final report ASSEMBLY estimated at thirteen minutes, forty-five seconds. This is barring any transformative variables or non-normal OUTLIERS."
The lexmechanic's watery eyes flick down to your legs, so slight is the movement you wonder for a second if it was a trick of the light.
"If you wish to wait, a CHAIR can be furnished for you comfort. Alternately, the results of this analytical process can be FORWARDED to your own cogitator upon completion."
There is a faint chime from your microbead indicating a new message.
Shaultus Transhipping Warehouse ~ The Ready Room
"Should I take the feather with me, or would you rather it stayed here tonight?"
Iacton's question hangs heavily in the still air of the old office, laden with the disquieting potentialities that either answer presents.
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
There isn't any outward sign whatsoever that Gulvar believes or disbelieves your lie. He is simply inscrutable. The vox-phone blares to life again.
"I will initiate the SECONDARY cogitational analysis that you have requested, Senior Clerk SEPHERIS. The process will require data COMPILATION estimated at one hour, seventeen minutes, thirty seconds, an initial ANALYSIS estimated at forty-nine minutes, fifteen seconds, a period of primary data SIFTING estimated at forty-four minutes, ten seconds, and a final report ASSEMBLY estimated at thirteen minutes, forty-five seconds. This is barring any transformative variables or non-normal OUTLIERS."
The lexmechanic's watery eyes flick down to your legs, so slight is the movement you wonder for a second if it was a trick of the light.
"If you wish to wait, a CHAIR can be furnished for you comfort. Alternately, the results of this analytical process can be FORWARDED to your own cogitator upon completion."
There is a faint chime from your microbead indicating a new message.
"A chair will not be necessary, I'm sure you know the address of my cogitator. I can make my own way out."
Vincent turns and makes his way back to the Claustrum proper, only then does he bring his hand to his ear and tap his microbead, bringing up the message.
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
Oktammor raises a hand to block his ear, listening closely to the tinny voice that sounds over his armor's integral microbead. Nodding his head in agreement with whatever is being said by the speaker on the other end of the link, he checks his chron and peruses a half-folded map of the Geltdown Docks.
Looking through the narrow viewport closest to him, he answers his caller, raising his voice to be overheard over the moaning roar of a massive cargo hauler passing overhead. The powerful downwash of the craft's landing thrusters hurtles discarded packing materials and grit through the air outside of the heavy truck, rocking it on its chassis.
"I mean, just that, there is no sign of them now. Yes, yes, I understand."
He changes the subject, perhaps in response to the caller's apparent agitation.
"I know, I know. I can see them now, and can confirm; they are setting down on platform #11, approximately one hundred meters from our present position."
Nodding again, Oktammor closes the link.
"It looks like the guard contingent from the claustrum has arrived, gentlemen. The problem is, there's no sign of our mutual adversaries."
"I think that keeping the feather with us is important, your master was safekeeping the feather. Until we get with your master, it up to you to continue. You might want to pray to The Emperor for the strength to stand up to its taint."
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"A chair will not be necessary, I'm sure you know the address of my cogitator. I can make my own way out."
Vincent turns and makes his way back to the Claustrum proper, only then does he bring his hand to his ear and tap his microbead, bringing up the message.
Passing through the heady fumes and crowded confusion of the massive Garage as quickly as possible, Vincent hurries on, reentering the clautrum proper, waiting until he enters the privacy of one of the lifts before engaging the message.
He reads the accompanying text on the his dataslate, playing the audio on his microbead.
[INCOMING COGITATOR DISPATCH//MESSAGE SENT 2.816.M41 @ 19:17 Local Time//ORIGIN <Source:Voxcaster/Fat Lady>SEinhardt*18775]
...<parse>
[DECRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS: On arrival. Awaiting rendezvous.]
[AUTHORIZATION//SEinhardt*18775]
Sgt. Eihardt's cold, authoritative voice offers little more insight to his present state of mind than the decrypted message. While considering your options, the microbead chimes again with an incoming vox-call, re-routed from your cogitation array. Seeing who it is by the encrypted feed parsing across your slate below Einhardt's message, you answer.
Through the accompanying static, you sense something is amiss by Dunkan Danicos' aggravated tone.
"Your 'shipment' is arriving, but there's no sign of the 'cargo' according to my boots on the ground."
The Geltdown Docks ~ Platform #7
Oktammor raises a hand to block his ear, listening closely to the tinny voice that sounds over his armor's integral microbead. Nodding his head in agreement with whatever is being said by the speaker on the other end of the link, he checks his chron and peruses a half-folded map of the Geltdown Docks.
Looking through the narrow viewport closest to him, he answers his caller, raising his voice to be overheard over the moaning roar of a massive cargo hauler passing overhead. The powerful downwash of the craft's landing thrusters hurtles discarded packing materials and grit through the air outside of the heavy truck, rocking it on its chassis.
"I mean, just that, there is no sign of them now. Yes, yes, I understand."
He changes the subject, perhaps in response to the caller's apparent agitation.
"I know, I know. I can see them now, and can confirm; they are setting down on platform #11, approximately one hundred meters from our present position."
Nodding again, Oktammor closes the link.
"It looks like the guard contingent from the claustrum has arrived, gentlemen. The problem is, there's no sign of our mutual adversaries."
" Is there an other angle to view the platform? Or any way we can get to a higher vantage point that's with in range?"
The Datacore, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
Passing through the heady fumes and crowded confusion of the massive Garage as quickly as possible, Vincent hurries on, reentering the clautrum proper, waiting until he enters the privacy of one of the lifts before engaging the message.
He reads the accompanying text on the his dataslate, playing the audio on his microbead.
[INCOMING COGITATOR DISPATCH//MESSAGE SENT 2.816.M41 @ 19:17 Local Time//ORIGIN <Source:Voxcaster/Fat Lady>SEinhardt*18775]
...<parse>
[DECRYPTED MESSAGE FOLLOWS: On arrival. Awaiting rendezvous.][AUTHORIZATION//SEinhardt*18775]
Sgt. Eihardt's cold, authoritative voice offers little more insight to his present state of mind than the decrypted message. While considering your options, the microbead chimes again with an incoming vox-call, re-routed from your cogitation array. Seeing who it is by the encrypted feed parsing across your slate below Einhardt's message, you answer.
Through the accompanying static, you sense something is amiss by Dunkan Danicos' aggravated tone.
"Your 'shipment' is arriving, but there's no sign of the 'cargo' according to my boots on the ground."
"I think that keeping the feather with us is important, your master was safekeeping the feather. Until we get with your master, it up to you to continue. You might want to pray to The Emperor for the strength to stand up to its taint."
"I already am." Iacton then heads off to pick up the feather.
Lift #19, Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, Unduz II
"Seventeen, are you there?"
Later, the Princep's Pub
"I already am." Iacton then heads off to pick up the feather.
The lobotomized servitor stands sentinel outside the door after guiding you through the maze-like tunnels and accessways boring through the dead titan. As good as your innate sense of direction is, you still are finding it difficult to mentally navigate the corridors and byways of Danicos' subterranean redoubt.
Entering Danicos' workshop, you see the heretek laboring at one of the tool-strewn worktables, a magnification mono-scope suspended over one eye from a hinged armature attached to a metal headband. He carefully coaches the hands of the young boy, Launce, as the hive-urchin intently solders away at a piece of disassembled cogitator. He doesn't even look up as you stride into the room.
"I knew you would be back."
"It's behind the bar. Leave it in the bottle, you can keep it. Whatever the plume is, it's getting worse. I can barely tolerate the presence of the thing...it...is changing..."
Danicos finally looks up at you. His face is set in a grim expression.
"I'm sorry, Iacton."
He turns back to his attentive tutelage of Launce, saying not another word to you. The pity in his voice tells you everything you need to know.
When you step out into the humid, recirculated night-cycle air of Vaxus District again, the weight of your burden has returned, like a frigid, soul-burning lodestone only kept in check by your late sister's memento. Slipping into the back of the luxurious groundcar you say nothing. The others could never possibly understand.