The Vaxus Deeps, The Duct Wolf Sanctum
Riding the rickety lift back to the Sanctum, Savalos grows more and more unsettled as he watches Uriah's unconscious form writhe and twitch in the arms of Iacton and Sigmunt, who now support him from either side. His hands still clench Silus' scepter in a death-grip, and even the prodigious combined strength of the Duct Wolf hitman and Krade's agent could not wrest it free. The psyker's eyes flutter like caged birds behind their lids and his breathing has slackened considerably.
Sigmunt, unnerved, looks at his Packmaster, brow still stained sooty from the conflagration in the strange chamber far below.
"What manner of fit is this Sav? He thrashes like a man possessed."
"Nightmares and visions Sig. Give him insight. Trust me if he was possessed I'd be the first one to put a round in him. Just make sure he doesn't swallow his tongue or bite it off eh?"
If he doesn't snap out of it soon I'm going to have to go to the Astropathic Choir alone, and I don't have the fragging codes! Hope Brek is lucid enough to give them to me.
"I know that this is how the planet was when your race was in control. I know that the world is in danger of destruction in my time by two of the Ruinous Powers and their agents. I know it has something to do with this sceptre which seems to be the same one you have, which from what I understand is how you are contacting me. I hope that you are doing this to grant me information that can be used in our battle against the enemy, but I am also willing to listen to any information you are willing to give me."
The Wellspring of E'auvennade
The Eldar, K'lei-eth, inclines his head again ever so slightly, affirming what you say to be truth.
"You are very astute, mon-keigh, I can see why you will eventually be chosen by him. This is indeed the past of the world that I have drawn your Warp-shade from, the version you walk upon in your time is far different than this. It is Lilaethan, blessed of the goddess, a 'maiden world' in your language. It will yet be many of your lifetimes before humanity comes to make war upon my people and drive us into the Void."
The Farseer looks contentedly around him at the otherworldly beauty of the virgin planet, inhaling deeply of its verdant bouquet.
"Of course, then, everything will change. As has been the result in so many of our races interactions, it will be steeped in blood, hatred, and regret. When my descendants leave this world, either in death or by displacement by your kind, much will change. These things I have foreseen with more clarity than anything I see with my own eyes, even now. There is, however, one thing that will not change."
He stares into your very soul, iron-hard eyes gouging deeply there.
"Oremor will remain a prison."
He pauses thoughtfully, to let this revelation settle with you.
"One of the agents of our enemies we know as the Prisoner. He is of the power that is of corruption, filth, and disease."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Vincent musters up his most honeyed tone to talk the corporal down. He needs Murjoff alive for whatever scraps of useful information may lurk in his broken mind.
"Put the weapon down Corporal. It is over now."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Vincent musters up his most honeyed tone to talk the corporal down. He needs Murjoff alive for whatever scraps of useful information may lurk in his broken mind.
"Put the weapon down Corporal. It is over now."
The Wellspring of E'auvennade
"One of the agents of our enemies we know as the Prisoner. He is of the power that is of corruption, filth, and disease."
K'lei-eth steeples his long-fingered hands before his face.
"Yes, I have dreamed of this being as well. A powerful avatar of the Corrupting One who keeps our Blessed Mother Isha as his thrall. This Prisoner will carry within him a plague like no other, one of the manifold dooms of this world."
"He is one of the catalysts."
K'lei-eth regards Uriah with a knowing, probing look.
"You know of the other, as well, do you not, Uriah Trantor?"
The Duct Wolf Sanctum, The Main Gate
As the contingent of soot-smeared Redemptionists disperse out of the main gate to the Duct Wolf compound, Savalos warily watches Preacher Castogaul depart. His parting gift to the new Packmaster was an encrypted vox frequency by which Friar Savonar and his flock could be contacted when the time came, or the need arose.
The horse-faced preacher stares Thul down as he walks away into the Vaxus Deeps, his tall frame throwing a looming shadow across the assembled gangers, backlit by the flickering pilot-lights of his throng of flamer-toting zealots, a message clearly sent with his eyes:
All affronts to the Emperor must purged. Everyone and everything that is corrupted must be cleansed.
Savalos thinks he now knows precisely what is meant by the proverbial deal with the devil.
The Duct Wolf Sanctum, The Main Gate
Having turned over Uriah to the care of Ivaanov and one of the Pack's healers, Iacton and Sigmunt walk up beside Savalos on either side, sensing the implied threat carried by Catogaul's pointed gaze. Their presence is reassuring, a retort of sorts to the Redemptionist professing their own unspoken loyalty.
Iacton speaks quietly, as is his nature, never taking his eyes from the preacher.
"Savalos, Sigmunt and I have discussed something that we would have you consider."
"Alright. You want to talk here, or in the Council Room?"
This whole damn world is going to burn if Castigaul gets his way. Damn I hate fanatics. Think he passed judgement on the whole pack. Dangerous fragging fanatic.
Seeing that Uriah is still out, guess I am going to talk to the Old Man alone. Better sort out what I want to say so I don't sound like an idiot. Damn I wish I knew how to read, and write.
The Wellspring of E'auvennade
"One of the agents of our enemies we know as the Prisoner. He is of the power that is of corruption, filth, and disease."K'lei-eth steeples his long-fingered hands before his face.
"Yes, I have dreamed of this being as well. A powerful avatar of the Corrupting One who keeps our Blessed Mother Isha as his thrall. This Prisoner will carry within him a plague like no other, one of the manifold dooms of this world."
"He is one of the catalysts."
K'lei-eth regards Uriah with a knowing, probing look.
"You know of the other, as well, do you not, Uriah Trantor?"
"The entity who is of the other Ruinous Power has left the host, but we known who the entity wants as its new host."
The Wellspring of E'auvennade
"The entity who is of the other Ruinous Power has left the host, but we know who the entity wants as its new host."
Farseer K'lei-eth looks doubtfully at the psyker.
"Do you? Are you so certain, Uriah Trantor?"
"Do not presuppose that you possess even the faintest inkling of the deceit that this warpspawn is capable of; believing such and the overconfidence it breeds will only spell your own downfall. There are far too many who have already made this grave mistake, and I would not see you follow in their footsteps."
He lowers his voice slightly, as if engaging in soliloquy instead of speaking directly to you.
"The Changeling daemon is ancient, far older than this world, more ancient perhaps than the history of my people, who so foolishly made this world it's prison. It has taken on and subsequently shed countless guises in its existence, masqueraded with the faces of Eldar and Man alike, all to one purpose, all for one goal. To be free of the world that binds it."
He looks up at Uriah, as if recalling that he was addressing him.
"For the Changeling to be free, Oremor must die."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Spit spraying from his lips, his eyes wild and half-mad, Corporal Murjoff begins shouting almost incoherently, stabbing the barrel of his autopistol in Vincent's general direction.
"You're a
"They're all dead---all of them! They told us the Mechanicus made the virus and they had to be purged or more would get sick. It didn't matter...didn't matter at all. When they came..."
"...oh, sweet Throne, when they came we couldn't stop them, nothing stopped them!"
He looks at you a moment, a bleak, hopeless expression collapsing his face into wracking sobs again.
"You found me...you found me...I can't kill you, you're already dead...but you won't
Murjoff spins the pistol around and mashes the barrel into the side of his head, prepared to pull the trigger.
The Vaxus Deeps, the Duct Wolf Sanctum
Once the Redemptionists are gone, Savalos, Iacton, and Sigmunt adjourn to the crumbling banquet hall that serves as the Duct Wolf council chamber. They find Kaltos inside, tinkering with a las-burnt flak helmet. Ivaanov is gone, having left with the Duct Wolf healers to help attend to Uriah.
They sit around a corner at the near end of the huge table, across from the tech-priest, who raises his gaze as they take their places.
Sigmunt, sensing the soft-spoken Iacton's reticence, broaches the subject first, pointed and direct as always.
"Sav, now that it is time to act, truly time to act, Iacton and I believe our particular 'talents' would best serve doing the dirty work."
Iacton says nothing, merely pushing an open dataslate across the table toward Thul.
Lifting the slate upright to read it, Savalos begins to get the gist of what they intend:
I won't feign apology. I had to leave. I know this hive better than any of you, and I've always done my best work alone...except when Dove was with me...but, as you know, she is the reason I needed to go. She doesn't have much time left and I could never forgive myself if I didn't do everything in my power to save her. There are people and places in Vaxus District only I know of, sources and leads that I can investigate alone better than a retinue of acolytes ever could.
I'm sorry, Uriah. You have to trust me.
I've called in some favors from an old friend in the Arbites, named Luthos. He wants the corrupted arbitrators dealt with, as much as we do. Luthos can be trusted. He provided me with an extensive list of Leprade's cronies...and their dwelling places. Iacton will know what to do with it.
I may have a lead on where the Eviscerator is hiding. I will make contact again as soon as I know more.
[APPENDED FILE/ARB_HITLIST_TX]
After you read it, Iacton, by way of explanation, simply states:
"The list contains the addresses and known haunts of the corrupt arbitrators loyal to Leprade and those otherwise on the Intelligencer's payroll. Johnnie sent it to us when you were rescuing the girl, while we waited in the Shaultus Transshipping warehouse. Sigmunt has validated many of the addresses."
"Working in tandem, we would...act on this intelligence."
Sigmunt leans forward in his chair, fixing you with his eyes.
"If the time has finally come to strike back, then let us land the first blow, Sav. With our methods, by the time they know what hit them it will be over already."
I have spent to many years on the streets knowing how many lives were saved, and gang wars averted because of a well placed scerrido to the base of the neck as the head is snapped to one side. Dirty thankless work, but necessary.
"Do it."
"Before you go find Stroinigli. Need to see Brek, and then a lift Spireside."
I rub my eyes as I try to think. I watch as Kaltos works on his helmet.
"Kaltos, you want to come on this joy ride? If not I can always ask the Sgt."
"Yes I will accompany you. I have recouped from my previous ordeal the best that you healer can provide." I stand and place the helmet back on my head with a new gleam in my eye. With squared shoulders I follow Savalos out of the room.
To Ivaanov I send a burst message in the language of the Omessiah. "I am headed out with the ganger. We must still live in this sector and they have surmised correctly if Oremor falls the whole sector will soon follow. We need to stop this now or we will need to have the world cleansed and that would desecrate further the works of our forefathers."
"Yes I will accompany you. I have recouped from my previous ordeal the best that you healer can provide."
I look for Luceros on the way out. Want to leave some instructions for him if Uriah wakes up. And to send out our scouts to spy the Withdrawn Veil.
"Good, cause I expect trouble. If we have time will ask Nessa stitch you up proper. She has good hands."
Figured Uriah didn't even want to even elude to being psychic with all the Redemptionists around.
Message for Uriah
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Spit spraying from his lips, his eyes wild and half-mad, Corporal Murjoff begins shouting almost incoherently, stabbing the barrel of his autopistol in Vincent's general direction.
"You're a
"They're all dead---all of them! They told us the Mechanicus made the virus and they had to be purged or more would get sick. It didn't matter...didn't matter at all. When they came..."
"...oh, sweet Throne, when they came we couldn't stop them, nothing stopped them!"
He looks at you a moment, a bleak, hopeless expression collapsing his face into wracking sobs again.
"You found me...you found me...I can't kill you, you're already dead...but you won't
Murjoff spins the pistol around and mashes the barrel into the side of his head, prepared to pull the trigger.
Vincent smirks as Murjoff fails to respond to his first plan. Vincent's strength was always manipulation, not heart. Murjoff's emotion armors him against any construct of logic Vincent might create.
So much for the complex solution, on to the simple one.
Vincent shoots him.
The Vaxus Deeps, the Duct Wolf Sanctum
After Iacton and Sigmunt take their leave, Savalos and Kaltos exit the run-down banquet hall only to run into Sergeant Einhardt and his communications officer, escorted by Stroinigli.
The 7th Legion sergeant regards Savalos with the squint-eyed suspicion that authority figures have been focusing upon him since he was old enough to foist a scerrido.
He speaks, interrupting Stroinigli.
"You have the look of a man on a mission. Not that I don't appreciate your strange little clan's interesting take on hospitality, but I have men I need to get back to, and if you're headed out, I'd at least like your leave to depart so we don't get 'mistakenly' shot. This twist won't tell me anything about what's going on."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Vincent smirks as Murjoff fails to respond to his first plan. Vincent's strength was always manipulation, not heart. Murjoff's emotion armors him against any construct of logic Vincent might create.
So much for the complex solution, on to the simple one.
Vincent shoots him.
The sound of the Armsman-10 firing in the echoing confines of the security checkpoint is deafening, and the round strikes Murjoff in the shoulder just as he raises his laspistol to his head with his right hand.
The round throws the guardsman out of his chair, the force pirouetting him to the right, and throwing off his suicidal aim. The shot instead rips through the lumen-fixture above with a whip-crack hiss and buzz of damaged filaments. The gun clatters across the top of the desk as he falls to the ground, the chair now idly spinning in circles. The terrified guardsman begins to kick himself across the floor frantically, moving to the right out from behind the desk into view again, holding his shaking hands before his pasty white face. He looks at you, horrified at just being shot, but somehow shocked out of his mania because of it.
With spittle still flecking his chapped lips, he peers through the gap in his splayed fingers at you for a moment longer with his wide, white staring eyes before lowering the hands slowly, looking around as if wondering how he came to be on the floor. He stutters his words out in the hissing little voice of someone suffering from severe hypothermia or mortal fear.
"V-V-Vincent? I-I...what are you doing here? Throne! You're alive, too! I mean really alive!!!
The Vaxus Deeps, the Duct Wolf Sanctum
"You have the look of a man on a mission. Not that I don't appreciate your strange little clan's interesting take on hospitality, but I have men I need to get back to, and if you're headed out, I'd at least like your leave to depart so we don't get 'mistakenly' shot. This twist won't tell me anything about what's going on."
"Aye thats fine. You wanna lift?"
"Need to head over to where there at anyway for a bit."
Looking over to Stroinigli. "Got to talk to 'Brek."
"We aren't a trigger happy ones. You should worry about the ones who carry those hand torchs. But in all honesty I don't think any alley or street is safe at this point."
The Wellspring of E'auvennade
Uriah's vision begins to swim, the Oremor-That-Was rippling around him, distended and frayed at the edges, the crash of the sea replaced by a sonorous, repetitive hush-hush sound, the brilliant sunlight pulsing from red-gold to a dull, yellowish artificial glow.
Farseer K'lei-eth seems aware of this change in the psyker's perception, but is largely unperturbed, merely sitting back in his wicker throne once again, watching the effect upon you with all of the sentiment of someone watching an ant drown in a puddle.
"My power wanes, Uriah Trantor. It is now time for you to return, and for me to rest, but we shall soon speak again, as there is much to discuss."
He gently strokes the head of his pampered pet, eyes never leaving yours.
"When you find Krade, tell him I have not forgotten our pact."
The Vaxus Deeps, the Duct Wolf Sanctuary
Uriah opens his eyes slowly, the disorientation making his body feel as though it is floating somewhere above him. He stares into the flat light of a yellowish lumen strip, sensing the press and steady susurrus of a rebreather clamped over his face. As his vision begins to clear, he sees Ivaanov's bug-eyed goggles peering down at him clinically from above, the grating pitch of his vox saying something the psyker can't quite make out.
Nearby, while in the midst of his conversation with Sgt. Einhardt and Stroinigli regarding the logistics of their departure, Savalos turns to find Kaltos conferring quietly over his microbead.
"Uriah is awake if you want to talk to him before we leave."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
"V-V-Vincent? I-I...what are you doing here? Throne! You're alive, too! I mean really alive!!!
"Yes, though by your tone I take it you recently encountered someone less than alive."
Vincent returns to his usual detached tone once it becomes apparent that Murjoff has regained his, somewhat meager, senses.
"Uriah is awake if you want to talk to him before we leave."
"Yeah I do. Thanks."
I start heading over to where we left Uriah to rest.
The Vaxus Deeps, the Duct Wolf Sanctum
It only takes a few minutes for Savalos, Kaltos, and the others to reach the old suite used by the Duct Wolves as a makeshift medicae. After Savalos confers briefly with the burly healer at the door to the room, the very same who treated the tech-priest a short while ago, the man begs his Packmaster's pardon, taking his leave to treat the injured survivors of the Auldmaw's rampage in the neighboring rooms. Stroinigli, Einhardt, and his fellow guardsman, the comm officer, opt to wait just outside the room when Kaltos and Savalos enter.
Inside, they find Uriah, seemingly recovered from his strange seizure sitting on the edge of one of the Guard surplus cots lining the far wall. Ivaanov strides over to the two of you, hands fidgeting together as he replaces the cap on his forefinger auspex.
"From my examination, it appears that Uriah Trantor has recovered completely from the seizure. I am unable to detect any signs either of lasting trauma to him or any injuries of significance. My prognosis for him is positive."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Murjoff fingers the the small hole in his fatigues, rubbing one grimy finger against the spot in his reinforced flak vest that stopped Vincent's bullet. His expression is still that of a man who has not fully recovered his senses or touch with reality. He appears little bothered by the fact that the senior-clerk just shot him.
Perhaps even a little disappointed in the gunshot's result.
"Someone? Huh, heh, more like everyone. Surprised my clearance for the Aerie still worked with the lock-down in place. Maybe we'll be safe here, next-to-highest level of the Keep and all---or maybe not. If they come here we won't need to worry, we'll be dead too, like them."
"Glad to see your awake. So you want to join us, or are you planning on sleeping in for awhile yet?"
" I will go with you. Tell me what has happened."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Murjoff fingers the the small hole in his fatigues, rubbing one grimy finger against the spot in his reinforced flak vest that stopped Vincent's bullet. His expression is still that of a man who has not fully recovered his senses or touch with reality. He appears little bothered by the fact that the senior-clerk just shot him.
Perhaps even a little disappointed in the gunshot's result.
"Someone? Huh, heh, more like everyone. Surprised my clearance for the Aerie still worked with the lock-down in place. Maybe we'll be safe here, next-to-highest level of the Keep and all---or maybe not. If they come here we won't need to worry, we'll be dead too, like them."
A hint of annoyance creeps into Vincent's reply, as Murjoff unsurprisingly misses the point of his question.
"Them being?"
" I will go with you. Tell me what has happened."
"Well we finished torching the place, and we dragged you back here. I gave leave for Iacton, and Sig to go on a hunt. So we won't be seeing them for awhile. So we should give them a bit of time to see what the flush out. Other than that was making plans to take the Sgt back to his men, and I was going to take a trip Spireside to talk with the Choir Boys after meeting with 'Brek. Kaltos was joining in on the trip."
"Be weary of Castigaul. He's judged you."
"I am sure he has. The fact that I am a voidborn, a psyker and I am carrying this artifact would be enough, even though I am doing the Emperor's work. When we have time and privacy, I will tell what I found out about the artifact."
I help Uriah up off the make shift bed.
"Well lets get the Sgt to his men, and then Spire side. Unless you have different thoughts on the matter."
The Vaxus Deeps
Savalos confers with Luceros prior to departing, explaining his immediate plans and requesting that the Alpha send the more subtle of the Wolves out to stalk the Districts above, to shake down the rumor-mongers and confer with the information brokers in an attempt to find out more about the mysterious Withdrawn Veil. Confident that Luceros understands the importance of this task, the Twice-Blooded Packmaster takes his leave.
As Savalos exits the fortified gates of the old hostelry into the Vaxus Deeps, he tries not to breathe too deeply of the musty, spore-laden air that fills the deep Underhive, all too cognizant of the bleak ruin of slouching, compressed old buildings struggling to support the vast hive above his head. He tries not to think of how far his Pack has fallen, putting such morose, unproductive thoughts aside for the matter at hand.
An interesting caravan of sorts leaves the vicinity of the Duct Wolf Sanctum. The throaty, predatory growl of the Sabrewolf's large engine preceding the cantankerous, grox-like grunts of the beater groundcar loaned to Kaltos earlier by Oktammor. Stroinigli keeps his vehicle in a low gear so as not to outdistance the stuttering vehicle occupied by the two tech-priests and the guardsmen. Glancing around at the forlorn streets and omnipresent alleyways as they swerve around mounds of trash and leaning buildings, Uriah cannot help but wonder how this possibly can be the same place as his recent vision, however far removed it is by the passage of time. The Eldar farseer's final words about Krade continue to echo through his mind, gnawing at his memory along with the ghosts of Ariella's psyche.
Even with his cogitator-efficient mind, it is hard for Kaltos Havelock to make any sense of the circuitous, labyrinthine route they take to return to the heretek's safehouse in the Vaxus Deeps. He is strangely grateful that it is the mutant that leads the way, doubtful that he could have found his way back even with the considerable aid of his auspex. Forge worlder that he is, he wonders how anyone with a rational mind could possibly dwell in a such a disordered amalgam of twisting byways and crumbling buildings.
The vehicles finally reach the safehouse without incident, and the ruined garage doors open in tandem with seamless and precise movements that belie their dilapidated appearance. The acolytes drive in slowly, the engines idling as the cars come to a halt, watching as their approach is covered with paranoid vigilance by a pair of guardsmen leveling lasguns and a contingent of Dunkan's enforcers. Oktammor stands amidst them all, aiming Albrek's trusty autocannon at the Sabrewolf while standing in front of the massive cargo-8. The long truck looks like it has sustained a great deal of abuse since Uriah and Savalos last saw, it, now covered in blast-burns, paint-scarred dents, and what seems to be some kind of acid-scoring across most of its armored plating.
Only when the acolytes and tech-priests step out of their vehicles does the heretek's massive gene-enhanced bodyguard lower the barrel of the intimidating weapon, setting it down with one expansive, meaty hand before slowly walking forward to meet you all.
Oktammor's gravelly voice carries well in the echoing old garage.
"Welcome back. We need to talk."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
"Them being?"
Murjoff looks blankly ahead into space until Vincent's words slowly settle into his addled mind like the last sands deposited in the bottom of an hourglass.
He looks at Vincent curiously, as if he cannot quite comprehend the naivete of the senior clerk's line of questioning. Then, a dawning realization crosses his snot-smeared features, and his cracked lips part in the dim, yet terrifying grin of a madman expressing disbelief that another has not perceived the terrible things he is privy to.
"You don't know yet, do you?"
On the ride back I let my thoughts wander to Aebena, and to Maia. Hoping the cherbium Kalaziel is safe from harm, and wondering where she is now. To explain to my Aebe that my mother is dead, and I am now Alpha. That two matriarchs died today. Explain that the Eviserator is dead. Yet the daemon still lives, and can be anyone or no one. Funny how much has changed in just a few short hours. I wonder if me and Aebena will ever have the life we always wanted to have. Or if it too will be stolen from us like Maia, Jerik, Old She Wolf, and so many more...
My mind snaps back into focus when the garage door shuts behind me.
"Well met Oktammor. We have alot to tell you as well. Been a busy morning."
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Vincent raises a single eyebrow.
"Know what?"
Oremor 7th Penal Legion Claustrum, The Aerie, 99th level, Unduz II
Murjoff's eyes glaze slightly and his mouth hangs slack, his narrow chin drooping to his chest like a raving imbeciles. He works his jaw a few times as if testing its reliability and when he speaks Vincent can hear the madness returning in his strained voice, as what he says cannot possibly be the utterance of a sane man.
"That the dead walk."
The Vaxus Deeps, the Heretek Safehouse
The acolytes, tech priests and guardsmen follow Oktammor through the fyceline-haunted stink of the decrepit garage until he reaches a point in the wall where there is a space between two dusty workbenches. Stopping at this dead-end, he turns a rusted bolt on the edge of a support beam that causes the wall and the tool-rack mounted upon it to slide up into the ceiling, a seamlessly hidden door activated to reveal a more modern-looking, vault-like room beyond. Dunkan's burly bodyguard ducks through the low clearance of the doorway, continuing to speak as he walks past two of his enforcers.
"I trust since you are all still alive that you accomplished what you set out to do?"
Beyond his rather imposing, armor-clad body you can see a number of similar reinforced doors leading from the room you have just entered. A bank of active cogitators and warbling communications equipment covers one wall, manned patiently by one of the heretek's hunched servitors. This chamber appears to be a listening station of sorts.
"Yeah, and them some. Course things never quite go as intended. So how have things been going on your end? Brek, and Ishmael doing okay? Any word of Johnnie?"
Oktammor opens one of the hexagonal vault-doors by activating a prox-reader with something built into the gauntlet of his armor. Stepping inside, you see a long, metal-walled briefing chamber appointed in a utilitarian minimalism, with a long manufactory produced conference table surrounded by folding chairs. He steps around one side of the table and rather delicately settles his armored form into one of the surprisingly sturdy seats, and motions for the rest of you to do the same.
Sgt. Einhardt signals Pvt. Kotts and the other two guardsmen who met you at las-point in the ruined garage to wait outside, and then sits down himself after the acolytes, tech priests, and Stroinigli take their own chairs.
Oktammor pushes aside an unfinished mug of caffeine with the faded Shaultus Transshipping logo on the side, his normally gregarious demeanor subdued, his face weary.
"Not well. Holo reports and the transmissions we've been picking up from the Arbites channels are they're attributing the 'terrorist-act' in the Geltdown Docks to the same cell that kidnapped Krade and the senior clerk of High Arbiter Ruvos Halleon. Word also is that Governor Ceprus has become involved and is considering deploying the 1st Oremor Legion to impose martial law in Vaxus District until such a time as this cell is apprehended or eliminated."
He face then becomes positively ashen.
"I've spoken to Dunkan as well since we went to ground here."
He hesitates, and it is clear he does not know just how to put into words what he is next about to say, so he says it simply, and quickly, like taking a bitter medicine.
"Your friend, Ishmael is gone. As is the boy and the Yellobouros prisoner."
At first you misunderstand him in the most obvious sense of things; that Ishmael has died of his injuries...but as you read Oktammor's expression you realize this is not the case.
"They've simply disappeared. Neither Dunkan nor Nessa can say just what has happened to them, there was no sign of infiltration or covert entry of any kind. I personally implemented all of the physical security of Dunkan's redoubt and combined with the advanced tech he has set up for countermeasures, what is in place there is comparable to what protects the residences of most sector-governors. The medicae in particular is locked down tighter than a drum. There's just no logical explanation for how this could have happened."
I muddle through the words trying to make sense of them. Asking myself why, and what would Ishmael be thinking? What is he doing? Did my talk with the Yelloback Ganger convince him to join our side, or will he lead Ishmael into a trap? So many variables.
"Frag...."
Guess I better share what news we have. It could make all the difference in the world. Literally...
"The Eviserator is dead. The Daemon hitched a ride with somebody else, and its after Johnnie for a new skin."
I pause a moment letting the ramifications since in.
"I'm Alpha of the Wolves, and we secured an alliance with the Redemptionists."
"What blueprints do you have of the Underhive? We have a big problem."
"Uriah do you think its time to talk to Ceprus?"
"Are Aebena, and the kid okay? Has anyone seen Kalaziel?"
"Do you have the security information or access to it here so I can sift through it. Unless they vanished the same was Krade did there has to be some evidence as to when and how."
"Uriah do you think its time to talk to Ceprus?"
"Yes, I do. I think it is time to use the Rosette."
The Vaxus Deeps, the Heretek Safehouse
Oktammor glances from Savalos to Kaltos, shaking his large head from side to side in the negative.
"I'm sure Dunkan will allow you to use whatever techniques you possess to process the security data when the opportunity arises, but as I said, his cogitational and dataloom array is one of the most powerful on this world. It is not a matter of stealth or subterfuge. The cleric, ganger, and boy just disappeared like they never were. One moment the pict-corders and bio-auspexes show them in their rooms with recognizable readings, the very next they are simply gone."
He looks directly at Kaltos, his eyes fixing on the tech-priest's for a time, as if trying to emphasize the sincerity of what he states, knowing the Mechanicus' opinion of his master and his trustworthiness.
"Nessa had just completed fitting the lad with a vox. Dunkan says she's devastated by what happened, she doesn't take losing patients very well, however it might occur."
Oktammor takes in what Savalos has to say regarding the Eviscerator and his new status among the Duct Wolves with relative equanimity, making it clear that there is very little in the way of revelations that can induce surprise in the hardened mercenary anymore. He seems to sense Savalos' primary concern, and the ghost of a knowing smile creases his weathered face.
"The girl, Aebena is fine. There has been no sighting of Krade's cherubim, though."
Folding his gauntleted hands upon the table with a creak and whir of power armored servos, he regards Uriah with some concern.
"Be wary of Governor Ceprus. I cannot deny that the Rosette will buy you an audience, but the gravity and momentum of events has increased dramatically. Word is filtering in that there is some manner of insurrection occurring at one of the southern penal claustrums as well, I'll let you deduce on your own which one it is. The governor of Orcut VII hive is likely to be a trifle on edge, pulled in many directions, and might not know just who his friends are."
Ivaanov pipes up at the circumstances surrounding the disappearances from Danico's medicae wing, his strident vox-grill vibrating with each word like a poorly tuned musical instrument.
"The nature of the disappearances defies logic in all of its variables. The similarities bear the hallmark of High Arbiter Krade's initial disappearance as well. If there is one addendum to my knowledgebase that I have acquired in my few short days with the Inquisitorial acolytes, it is that when confronted with a scenario that contravenes the laws of the physical universe, the effects of the Immaterium must be suspected, as well as the hand of the Ruinous Powers."