True Power

[Kazkin]

OOC Note: This story is a direct precursor story to a major update happening involving nanogates. It is a pre-amble to explain some of the background lore on why a new development happened both oocly and icly, as well as reveal some of the details around it.

Tags
-[Public]: Guild adepts and guild masters as well as members of the church of absolute may claim to be present during the work site or at the church when Tacitus arrives. No additional knowledge should be known IC outside of things seen or spoken of publicly.
-[Named]: Characters directly named are treated as being canonically there and may reference their part in character.

“Aye’ still don’ get why we can’t just do an alloy weld.” Sieghardt said as Tacitus handed him an over-sized power sledge. The guild master and grand master were currently reinforcing a support wall that made up the lower colony park. This particular wall was the support structure for the parks small water fall and the ceiling above the chamber as a whole. At present the river had been drained and additional temporary support beams were in place, the original walls rivets had been removed and ever so slightly forced upwards through the use of power jacks normally used for spaceships. This lift created a four-centimeter gap directly in the center of the curved pillar where the two guild mates were presently lining up a large, alloyed spike. “Because, guild master.” Tacitus replied jovially, a smile on his plain sablekyne face. “This method will last longer and be safer. Look here, see how the wall curves?” He nodded his horned head to where the gap was, pointing a clawed finger first to it and then to the ceiling above. “There’s a crystalline structure for how the weight of the dirt and rock above this underground chamber comes down. That pressure is angled to sink entirely into this single spot.” He wedged the plasteel spike in place, giving it a few hard taps with his power sledge’s head to keep it in place.

“We do an alloy weld, it’ll work sure, it’ll last twenty years and eventually the weld will start to crack from wear and tear. That pressure will fracture the weld and then we’ll have to replace this whole section or do a cover weld, which just kicks the can down the road.” Tacitus was explaining it, not for Sieghardt’s benefit as the guild master could figure that out, but for the benefit for the few scattered guild adepts milling about the work site doing their assigned tasks. “We use this nail, we put all the pressure onto the plasteel, which handles the force better, and since it is a stronger alloy we’re looking at a replacement two centuries down the line AND it’ll be easier for whoever’s around. We’re planning for the long haul boyo.” The pair of men gave their power sledges a few test swings, the plasteel rivet had to be hammered into place and it was only 0.125 centimeter smaller than the 4-centimeter gap in the plating. Even between the two, this would be a difficult and exhausting task. Both the men were huge muscular examples of their race. Sieghardt, the kriosan, nearly seven feet tall and hulking with muscles, fur, and quills. His vaguely canine face was set and stern, less jovial than Tactitus, who’s expression eased into a smile naturally. He stood nearly half a foot shorter than the kriosan, but was wider, stockier, built more for this strength intensive task by virtue of genetics.

“You ready?” The grand master asked as he flicked the switch on his power-sledge and it began to thrum excitedly with potential kinetic strength. “Aye.” Sieg replied, powering his own hammer before the men began. Heavy dull thunks meeting metal over and over in turn, paced swings hammering down on the rivet that was never given a moment for the resisting pressuree to force it out of its new home. Thunk, thunk, thunk, heavy grunts from the laboring men as a few adepts looked on at the work. It was a little hard to look away, as there was a certain level of fascination watching two muscular titans working in perfect rhythm, driving the rivet down bit by bit until finally the head came to rest perfectly against the wall. By the end, the hammering had only taken twelve minutes, but both men were caked in sweat as they powered off their tools. That kind of exertion tired a man out, especially when each swing took the full weight of one’s body behind it, but looking upon the finished product, as simple as it was, satisfied those who enjoyed an honest day’s work.

“You know what sounds good right now?” Tacitus said suddenly.

“What?” Sieg replied bluntly.

“Whiskey, cold, two ice cubes and chased with a screwdriver to counter the hang over.” He said seriously, turning his white eyes towards the kriosan. “Just a damn shame I got a meeting. You gonna be at game night?” The sablekyne tossed his hammer onto a nearby pile of tools as Sieghardt did the same. “It’s… god what day is it? Sunday right? Think we got game night with the church, can’t remember if we’re doing cards, laser tag, or tabletop.”

Sieghardt chuckled, “Tabletop, dem’ nerdy ones ar’ really pushin’ fer’ sum’ wargames. True shame da’ painting’s a boren’ chore..” The kriosan turned with Tacitus as they began to walk, the remaining adepts returning to work to finish up the last few checks before the project could declared done and the work area cleared. “What’s dis meetin’ yer’ headin’ to about?” Sieghardt asked, his gaze drifting to one of the adepts they passed, a rather well-endowed sablekyne with white fur before Tacitus caught his attention once more.

“Eh, Augustine wanted to meet about something. Not really much for detail this time, something engineering related and important. Not like I’ll miss it.” Tacitus said in turn, his gaze following Sieghardt’s with only a passing interest before he looked back to the kriosan. After all, Tacitus was a happily married man with three fully grown children of his own. “Yeah?” His short reply a prompt for the grand master to reveal more.

Tacitus smirked faintly, a bit of knowing in his smile before he chuckled lightly, “Look, I know you haven’t met her, but she’s quite nice. Never had her treat me, the guild, or our adepts wrong. I know you don’t like the church, but I like them. Hell my oldest son is apart of them.” His clawed hand coming to the necklace he sported on his neck. At the base was a wheel, a circular symbol of Ferris, the god of his homeworld. Yet inset in the wheel was a tau cross, something he wore at his son’s insistence. “Besides, last time Augustine asked me to a private meeting you know what she did?”

Sieghardt didn’t say anything, but his smirking expression said all it needed to.

“Not anything like that ya cunt.” Tacitus replied, but he was half laughing as he slapped Sieghardt’s arm. “Nah, she invited me and the wife over for tea and dinner. Served us some delicious, imported steaks from some animal in Krios. You know how nice it is to eat expensive steak? Hell, it’s a surprise when people even remember we sablekyne are carnivores. It was nice, and the wife and Augustine get along damn well.”

Sieghardt shrugged noncommittally. He was a bit more reserved than the jovial and forward sablekyne as he replied, “Every’un spends deir time how dey’ want, chief. Ya’ didn’t mention if ya’ll be at da’ game tonight?”

Tacitus shrugged, glancing away for a moment before he replied, “Depends on what Augustine wants, I’ll try, but… Well, this’d be the first time she ever specifically requested for me to meet her without my wife. Whatever it is she wants, it must be serious. I’m a bit curious, really.” Tacitus and Sieghardt finally drawing to a stop as they reached the edge of the underground park, the halls to the other residential areas ahead. “You think it’s about the Soteria making psions?” Tacitus asked, voicing his thoughts in the form of a question.

“Might be.” Sieghardt said with a nod. “Strange stuff, but den’ again what’s not strange ‘bout dis’ planet?” The burly quill dog crossed his arms over his broad chest, “You gonna be good, chief?” He asked, the first sign of something beyond impassive workplace conversation appearing for a moment. “Think so.” The sablekyne replies, “But you and the other guild masters will know if it goes anywhere… Save a seat for me, yeah? I’ll try an make it to game night.” The grand master was already walking, giving a wave of goodbye as he added, much to Sieghardts chuckling amusement. “And have a whiskey and a screwdriver waiting for me, else I’ll put you on fence repair for the next week.”

Tacitus made his way alone through the remainder of the lower colony, passing through hallways and looking to all the neat little designs he never once got tired of seeing. After all, he designed most of it, was it not a treat to see the fruits of one’s labor? Cross sections of hallways had posted signs, tables, comfy chairs, small gardens and potted plants giving an earthy nature to the metallic texture of paneled floors and steel walls. Glowing neon signs advertising various products stood out with their colored lights, often with the softer glow of a newscaster nearby or air alarms which monitored the colonies atmosphere. His work boots tread over air vents and scrubbers, scuffing the metal as he made his way towards the church’s domain of the lower colony. He passed windows with inset miniature arboretums of local plant life, flowers, or sometimes the ‘birds’ which wandered the surface colony. Everywhere one stepped there was either neon light and electric vitality or sets of comfy homely collections that put the mind at ease. When he was originally tasked with the colonies design, he wanted something functional, something like a bunker, but he didn’t want a soul-less metal pit that only a cindarite would tolerate. He wanted an impregnable fortress that had the comforts and feeling of home on every square foot of floor, wall, or ceiling. Hell, he had even gone so far as to contract several soteria psychiatrist to help him design the more creature comfort areas, the exact right place to put lights, plants, chairs, disposal bins, neon holo displays and newscasters. What he found is the perfect blend worked the best, of nature, technology, and a spartan aesthetic that was comfortingly utilitarian when needed. The luxuries, he mused, were the open theater, the park, the districts set aside to function as a public utility that just made life better. Lonestar made use of most of those areas, putting all sorts of shops, holo-vid theaters, gyms, hobby stores, and small boutiques for the snobbier colonist.

He met few people on this way, but this early in the morning it was to be expected, though those he saw he waved to with his trademark cheerfulness. Yet, his mind began to wander as he passed by some tacky Lonestar holoplants, a screen above them displaying an advert for products while the guild grand master cast his gaze around the wide hallway. He noted he was near the Soteria run hospital and turned down a back hall towards a maintenance door, the airlock sliding open at his presence while he took his shortcut. His mind wandered as he stepped heavily through the dim tunnel. It was quite unlike Augustine to be secretive, though he knew she had plenty of things she kept to herself, as most of them did. But what stood out to him was his wife not being invited. Augustine and the missus were the best of friends, hell, Augustine has done his oldest son’s baptism into her church, something he always felt a tiny bit of ego swelling pride about. If the missus was not asked to come, it meant this was serious enough to be secretive. It almost made him wonder if blabbing to Sieghardt had been a good idea, but the it was too late to regret that.

His pace quickened ever so slightly, the maintenance tunnel eventually opening to reveal one of the halls to the churches area of the lower colony. Here, things were often brown, gold, and trimmed with an earthy coloring that brought out a rustic feel. Tau crosses and obelisks dotted the walls, tapestries of the church’s iconography covered plasteel plated reinforcements. He paused for a moment, getting his bearings as the nearby obelisks reacted to his presence. He was not with the church, but the tau cross inset upon his necklace treated him as if he was, the strange totems (for that is how Tacitus saw them) rose on their own accord before rotating in place with a distant hum that put him oddly at ease. He began his way towards the great chapel in the empty hallway. In truth, Tacitus quite liked the church even if he held onto his beliefs in Ferris, but that didn’t stop him from appreciating the austere presentation of the church. The brown rugs that dotted the floor, the mystical floating obelisks, the tapestries and plate glass windows. All of it held a certain… authority, that he felt a proper church should have. It never quite strayed beyond the threshold of decadent, at least to him. It was always rustic, always a frontier church, he thought as he spotted the massive wooden doors to the great cathedral. The fine dark brown wood reinforced with bands of steel that slid open on oiled hydraulics as he neared it. Within was revealed the familiar site of the great hall. Long pews lined the right and left, leading to an alter that was framed by the majestic repose of silver, gold, and steel worked into a tau cross and eye of the absolute. The mega-obelisks crystals separated, floating in the air in lazy orbits as the massive pillar thrummed with power. A few people were knelt at their seats among the pews, heads down and hands folded in prayer. Near the altar, off to the side was a pair of vectors carefully lighting candles, one casting his gaze towards Tacitus before quickly stowing his lighter.

“Grand master, we did not expect you so early, forgive me.” The vector said as he hurried across the carpet towards the entrance, his voice a stage whisper as not to disturb those in prayer. He was an abhuman, a mouse by Tacitus guess, the somewhat effeminate mouse-morph had oddly long white hair and dark black fur. His clothes simple vector vestments covered by a ceremonial jacket marking him as a divisor. Tacitus suddenly felt a little… under dressed, standing there in what amounted to a sweaty tank top, dirty hazard vests, a pair of heavily patched jeans complete with still dirty work boots. “Aye.” He said, the moment of surprise letting his northlander accent bleed through. “Ai’d ‘ave emailed… I would have emailed ahead but it slipped me mind.” He said a little lamely as the divisor took him by the arm, the nearly two-foot shorter abhuman guiding him to presumably where-ever Augustine was. “It’s quite alright, the prophet is actually in her study having tea, I’ve already sent her word.” His cruciform was faintly beeping as he spoke, the message relayed with a thought while Tacitus nodded.

The divisor lead him past the altar, to a side door from which the rest of the church resided. Tacitus had only a vague knowledge of this area, as it had been heavily modified from its original blueprints. He knew that the churches research division, the numerals, did their work here and advanced the churches bleeding edge technology. Beyond that, he knew precious little as he was lead down various halls and through different doors, sometimes steel airlocks and sometimes wooden doors. The divisor wasn’t a chatty type, it seemed, so it left the sablekyne to his thoughts. He found himself thinking about Augustine again. There was, much like her church, a peace that radiated from the woman. A quality that reminded him of his wife, really. Augustine had a way of putting one’s worries to rest, a charisma that was unique among the faction heads because she moved, spoke, and acted with an ease of faith and confidence that made a rather homely man like Tacitus look towards her like the matriarch she was. Yet it went further than that. She was kind, a thing so simple that it made one baffled as to why her presence was so greatly appreciated. When the faction heads met, she was calm, collected, and always reigning in Hogg as the over boss tested the room and postured. Though, Tacitus privately believed the only reason Hogg was so easily handled by Augustine was because the thuggish man wanted to bed her. Still, her kindness and his favor for her was tempered by one simple fact that made him remember she was far from weak. Director Mkne made a point of showing everything footage from when she burned the Soteria research lab and escaped with the prototype cruciform to found her religion. The video had no audio, something that Tacitus always found off, but it showed an armored Augustine smashing her way through Soteria defense drones. It showed her shooting down synthetics and knocking out any guards she encountered as she destroyed computer and console alike. Though armored, it was obvious it was her by the shape and size, but the way she fought was like a seasoned mercenary, not a homely roboticist that would eventually become the leader of a new faith. The memory of that little video always reminded him that the cartographer was a lot more dangerous than most realized, perhaps more so now with the advancement of her churches arms and armor.

“Here.” The divisor said, drawing to a stop and breaking Tacitus from his thoughts as he looked to a simple, unmarked wooden door. They were in a hall that looked like any other, so he was slightly taken aback. Yet before he could ask a question, one of the nearby doors opened and a fellow sablekyne stepped out. “Oi, lad, there ye are. Come on we’ll be late.” She called to the divisor, the mouse morph nodding before setting off with her at a quick pace. Tacitus watched them go, those horns looked familiar, he thought before pushing it out of his mind. He had more important things to think about, turning back to the unmarked door before he stepped forward and pushed it open. What greeted him on the other side was not Augustine’s usual office, it was smaller and had none of the usual decoration or artifice it normally had. It was spartan in style, two homely leather chairs atop a plain rug with a single small tea table between them. On the far wall was a tau cross hanging on the wall with a book case below it. Lighting the room was a single lamp which filled the area with a soft light that gave the impression of a study or place to read books. In one of the reclining chairs sat Augustine, dressed in simple gold and black robes, a book in one hand and a glass of tea in the other. She made no notice of Tacitus, continuing to read her book as the sablekyne stepped into the room in silence, walking over to the chair next to her and slumping down into it. He leaned back, getting himself comfy in the silence of the room as he looked first to her, then to the table where he saw a tea pot and second cup he had missed.

He began pouring himself a drink as he waited for Augustine to finish her page. As ever, she was missing the usual things a colonist carried. She did not have an equipment belt around her waist, nor a satchel, nor even a holstered firearm that nearly every colonist carried with them like it was their duty. Her dark robes were stylish, glamoured in gold but modest about her curves and impressive bust. The chestnut brown of her fur drew a defining line between the colors of her clothing just like Tacitus had for his grayed pelt. She was exceedingly short, nearly two feet smaller than him but just as stocky with solid black irises like one would expect of a rat abhuman. His own white colored eyes looked towards her patiently as she closed her book and set it upon the table, Tacitus running a hand along one of his horns before he spoke, “You needed me, lass?” He asked, forgoing formality as he usual did.

“Yes, Tacitus, I am in need of your aid.” Augustine replied, her voice a quiet gentle hum that was both polite and insistingly serious. The sablekyne frowned, his gaze flicking away from her warm dark eyes to the book she had been reading. “Diamond Drilling: Precision Engineering at its Finest.” The sablekyne read aloud, “Unusual for some light reading, Auggy.” His eyes drifting back to hers with a faint smile to ease the tension. “What exactly is it ye need o’ me?” His accent was creeping into his words once more. Hiding it, or at least suppressing it so he was easily understood was a constant fight when out of the house, but Augustine understood him well enough that he felt no need to try it now.

“You’ve seen the psions, I imagine.” Augustine murmured, sipping her tea in a single long gulp before setting it aside. She let the statement linger in the air for a few seconds before she continued. “You have always been a dear friend, Tacitus, but I must confess to you… I worry, about these psionics. I worry that my old friend Nakharan has opened pandora’s box and ushered in something we do not truly understand.” She looked to him, her soft-spoken words had already drawn him in, his sense of unease raising as she voiced her fears. Tacitus had seen a few adepts become psions, seen them use their talents and knacks and even the stranger powers they had. Truthfully, he thought it amusing, but some of the things he saw did unsettle him. He recalled an adept emitting a scream, felt this pulse in the air, and watching as the roaches that had been barreling towards them from their burrows turned and fled. He was glad to avoid the crawling nuisances, certainly, but he hadn’t quite forgotten the way the adept had emitted his awful screech and the sensation it came with.

He stayed silent for now, letting her pause and collect her thoughts as she tapped a single clawed finger on the book she set aside. “I need your help, dear Tacitus, to curb those who seek power by accepting Nakharan’s dark gift.” Tacitus almost snorted at that, he wasn’t entirely drawn in by her words and such grandeur towards Nakharan was quite obviously biased. “How do ye plan tae do that then, lass?” He asked, reaching for his tea. Augustine didn’t quite reply immediately, she let his question hang in the air before she replied in a reserved tone. “The path of the psion is one of personal power, Tacitus, it carries not the expectation nor restriction of, for example, a cruciform. Despite its draw backs, these machinations may be misused by the unwary and the careless. You’ve heard of what has been happening in the realm your adepts call “deep maintenance” yes? Of course you have, your men and the prospectors are down there most often. The creatures down there have been leaving in droves and the sightings that have been reported...”

She trailed off, letting Tacitus speculate what she was going to say next. He didn’t really need to guess; his adepts were creative and tough bastards so of course they plunged into deep maintenance from time to time. Outside of the claws, teeth, and acid filled monsters nesting in the place, it was a treasure trove of materials and salvage. Always changing, always filled with danger and plunder. Recent scavenging has been far easier, from what reports he has read, but few adepts were taking advantage of it. A sense of dread and unease plagued anyone who went down there, with only prospectors and a scattered number of psions seeming willing to brave that place. “They go there, the psions? They ‘jump’ there as it were. The ability to teleport, outside of bluespace Tacitus, and yet it always draws them there. Why?” She asked him, her warm black eyes looking upon him curiously before he sighed. “Ai dunno lass, Ai’m naught a psion. Mayhaps its jus’ a meaningless connection?”

His words sounded hopeful but lame, even to him, as Augustine favored him with a dismissive smile that almost made him feel young again with its maternal amusement. He crushed the feeling before he said more firmly, “Ye want tae stop people from becomin’ psions, sure, it’s a threat tae yer own magical powers lass. Why do ye need me ‘elp fer that?” His tone a bit sharper than he meant, but it got the point across. Augustine paused, pouring herself and him a refill of tea, letting him stew in his emotions once more before she finally spoke as she lifted her teacup. “Not stop them, dear Tacitus, there are many paths to the Absolute. Even psions shall find God on the old road. I wish not to force change, but to offer an alternative. My cruciforms are powerful, truly, but not all may walk in the Absolute’s light. For these fractals, I wish peace upon them, certainly, but to help them some concession must be made.”

She was starting to ramble, Tacitus thought, a rather common occurrence he discovered in his time as her friend. You could build an entire outpost, and have it wired with solar arrays and lay the atmospheric pipes by the time it’d take Augustine to get to her bloody point when she was interested in what she spoke of. He lifted a hand and twirled his finger in a circular motion, a gesture he largely saved for when Augustine and his wife were prattling on while he wished to head home and pass out on his couch watching whatever holo-vid was on his console that night. The vermin lass took it in stride, offering a nod in return before she carried on more pointedly. “I need you to build a specialized diamond drill to an exact specification, Tacitus, it needs to be able to quickly and quietly cut through plasteel without causing vibrations or noise any would notice. At the same time, it needs to emit a low level EMP field in a localized area so it isn’t picked up by scanners.” Her voice lost its soft tone now, becoming business as she spoke, her black eyes looking at him plainly.

“Kin’ Ai ask why?” He said sarcastically, not expecting her to explain before she surprised him. “I am sending one of my vectors to a scavenger fleet in this sector, an opifex held ship from which my vector and a Xiang Jiang assassin will steal the blueprint to the nanogate technology. With said blueprints, the colony will create its own nano-gates to specifications that will give colonist a safer alternative to psionics.” Tacitus was wrong footed now. Off-kilter because he was not used to this kind of conversation, nor did his mind adapt to this kind of discussion. He was a simple man with simple ambitions and his thoughts didn’t naturally go towards the cloak and dagger nature that all factions had to use. He simply didn’t play the politics of the colony, he had his secrets and his guild certainly had done things he was neither proud of nor willing to speak of, but that simplicity made him miss the obvious right now. “And.. why would Ai ‘elp ye do this? Addin’ nanogates to yer cruciform doesn’t seem like it’d solve much” He hazarded as a question, unsure of where he stood just yet. Augustine merely smiled in return, a pleased look across her rat-like face. “Because if the operation is successful then the blueprints shall be going towards the Artificer Guild, Tacitus, you and yours will be the sole owners and creators of this nanite technology here on the colony and may adapt it how you wish. Those unwilling to accept the Absolute may look towards you, my trusted friend, for guidance far safer than what Nakharan offers.”

Now that was an easy sell. It was also something Tacitus was a bit more inclined to consider. Nanite technology wasn’t rare, but those who could use it to its fullest potential were. His mind was already considering, given what he knew of nanogates, what could be used, adapted, and changed to fit the guild’s needs. “It’s designed fer an opifex body, there’d be limitations, changes would need tae be made tae make it use-able tae a new biology. Could...” He paused. “We’d need some o’ yer numerals tae ‘elp us adapt it.” He said, thinking for a moment that this deal seemed a bit too good to be this simple. “Won’t the scavenger fleets come after us if we’re usin’ their tech?” His eyebrow raising while Augustine shook her head. “The Xiang Jiang have agreed to take the blame, they will claim they stole the blueprints themselves and then sold them to the colony. The opifex are opportunist themselves, they won’t have much cause for retaliation then, as attacking us without proper cause would anger both the colonies void wolf allies and the confederacy.”

Tacitus leaned back in his chair, loosing a low whistle. “Ye’ve put a lot o’ thought intae this lass.” He said, his implication obvious. “Ye’ve also made a bloody good offer.” He added almost reluctantly. It was a hard thing for him to pass up, because this would not only help his guild but his adepts and the limits as to what they could do with this technology would not only improve his factions standing but help keep his adepts safe when working in dangerous areas. The more he considered it, while Augustine patiently watched him, the more and more he found it a difficult thing to say no to. “One question.” He suddenly asked, his white eyes turning back to Augustine’s own. “Scavenger fleets are well protected, they have all sorts of protections, safeties, defensives and redundant plans we cannae’ even imagine that’d never even let one of their own git through, let alone an outsider. How exactly do ye plan to extract it even with a Xiang assassin?”

He could tell that sudden question caught her off guard because she paused, a short moment passing as she considered how to answer. For a moment Tacitus almost smiled, there was a certain pleasure to catching someone so sure of themselves on the rebound, especially after how disarmed she had him mere moments ago. “One of my flock is an opifex. She has agreed to do this, though it is not my place to reveal her reasons.” Augustine said gently, looking to Tacitus imploringly for a moment. “I know she can be trusted and I do not know the full extent of her reasoning. I only know that this is the Absolute’s will.” She reached a hand over to him, placing her delicate brown furred fingers onto his lap. “I seek only to help this colony, Tacitus, all I ask of you, my dear friend, is that your build this drill.”

Her black eyes looked to his and he found himself looking away. He knew in that moment he would do it, but still he hesitated. He didn’t like this kind of cloak and dagger, even if he was only one cog to a bigger machine, it made his conscious squirm even with all he stood to gain. But she was right, Tacitus thought, he couldn’t say no and he almost laughed. “Progress at any cost, roight?” He said to her lowly, repeating the mantra of the Soteria. Augustine remained expressionless, offering only a small nod in return. “Alroight, Ai’ll do it… When do ye need it?” He asked. She nodded to the door as she lifted her hand away from his lap and spoke, “There waiting for you outside, my friend.”

He nodded, downing his tea as he stood up and set the cup aside. “Auggy, ye… Ai wish things were a lot simpler, ye know?” He said, his words heavy but his tone faintly amused. “Wish you coulda jus’ brought me ‘round fer tea and Ai dunno, a game o’ chess.” He chuckled now, his way of taking the seriousness of the situation the way a north-lander should, like it wasn’t as big of deal as it was. He smiled now, even if he wasn’t quite sure how he felt just yet. “Ye come by sometime this week, aye? Ai’ll ‘ave the whole family over fer dinner an’ yer the guest o’ honor.” She rose from her chair, nodding to his words before he placed a hand on her shoulder and immediately changed his mind, instead half leaning down to embrace her in a hug. “Thank you, dear Tacitus.” She whispered to him as they parted. Her smile was genuine, it made his eyes linger for a moment, feeling as though he should say more before he turned and left. The wooden door opening t the hall where a single opifex stood waiting for him.

“Hello, grand master.” She said bluntly, her expression hidden under her gas mask. She was short, very short, and dressed in a lemniscates skirt. “If you will follow me.” She said when he didn’t respond, the girl turning and striding down the hall while he followed her in slow plodding steps. “I hope you know what you’re doing, Augustine.” He said to himself softly, speaking aloud as he suppressed his accent once more.

((Part 2 shall be released later and will be titled: "Shrike"))