Chapter Text
Hey yall! Due to the restructuring, Ill be posting (and then deleting) each chapter in order of release.
Here is the fully rewritten opening chapter. Hopefully with a better introduction, grammar, and storytelling, it’ll be a better opening for new readers.
WARNING: CHAPTERS 3 AND 4 WILL NOT MAKE SENSE UNTIL VERSION 2 IS RELEASED.
Hope Yall enjoy!
A timekeeper quietly ticked against the wall, its brass hands moving ever so slowly around the surface. The steady thrum of engines and the squeals of released steam created a distant drone, ever present in her ears.
The dark brass walls gave a calming shine against the worlds sun, the brilliant rays of an afternoon shining through the hive cities spires. A stack of papers sat stacked upon the wooden table, read, signed, and filed in perfect order.
Reports of gene stealers had been flooding out of the under hive, desperately calling for reinforcements. She would have preferred to deal with it properly, but the planetary govoner had stayed her hand, insisting she look elsewhere.
The golden mural of humanities lord shone against the wall behind her, his shining brilliance glowing in the window’s purple sunlight.
…
Power maul and bolt pistol at her side, shield on her arm, she stared out towards the Governor’s palace, shining a bright purple aura. Her vox link burst to life with shouts and warnings, calls and screams.
~~~~~~~
[WARNING: Memory Unit Malfunction]
[WARNING: Data Unit Malfunction]
[WARNING: Scanning Unit Malfunction]
[Rebooting Systems…]
~~~~~~~
The palace was a warzone.
The guns and walls that had been built to protect the imperial authority were now raining hell down upon the PDF. The bright White and Blue Uniforms of the Twelfth Praxis defense regiment was marred with deep red of human blood.
What had once been a suspicion raised by Arbitrator teams on sight, had now become a dark reality as an indescribable vortex sat above the great building, horrid screams filling the air. A cacophony of light and color beyond human understanding shone above them, consuming all it touched. The twisted, malformed, bodies of what had once been the palace guard were now charging against the loyalist forces, their screams of pleasure and pain doing more damage to the PDF than their actual weapons.
“Pilot! How close to the palace walls can you get us?” She shouted over the Valkyries engines.
“Can’t get closer than our lines have already reached, the courtyards are full of muties and traitors!” Came the reply over the Vox.
Damnit! They needed to get in now, before it was too late to stop whatever ritual the governors had started.
But how to…
“…Pilot, I need you to follow my next order without doubt or fear, do you understand?”
“…Yes Marshal, I understand…”
“There is a large ornate window in the fashion of our lord on the eighteenth floor. I need you to crash through it.”
“…Roger, marshal. Ave Imperator”
“What is your name, pilot?”
“Lorus Ralian, Ma’am.”
“Ave Imperator, Lorus.”
She and the five other arbitrators strapped themselves in for the crash ahead. With any luck, their might, cunning, and zeal, would win them the day.
If not for the Emperor…
Then for the countless innocents below.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
[WARNING: Memory Unit Recalibrating…]
[WARNING: Data Unit Recalibrating…]
[WARNING: Scanning Unit Recalibrating…]
~~~~~~~~~~~~
She felt the crash, rather than saw it, the dark interior bore no change as the sound of shattering glass sounded around them.
The Valkyrie slammed into the marble of the palace floor, gouging great chunks of the polished stoned along with it.
Metal rent, engines burst, glass broke.
The transports side was blown open by a power maul, followed by six black clad figures climbing out of its destroyed hull.
Vastra took the lead, bolt pistol and maul in hand, followed by Jamison their plasma gunner, with Lanius, Orello, and Aero making the rear.
The pilot had indeed died in the crash, Vastra leaving an aquila on his body to retain his purity in death.
Despite the war outside, the palace halls were eerily quiet, no sound could be heard other than the clanking of boots. The silence should have been comforting; No wails of pain, no daemonic chanting, no marching of clawed feet, yet…It disturbed her all the same.
Slowly, as they marched, a steady thump could be heard in the distance, not unlike that of a heart. A pulsating pink light beginning to flow over the palace walls.
What had started as mere thumps quickly turned into a great orchestra of beats, as though the hearts of an entire world were fighting for dominance.
A bolt shell clattered to the floor as a hole was opened within a traitor’s chest, the chitin like skin doing little to block her shot. Not a scream, but a moan left their throat as they fell dead.
Traitor after traitor charged into the now beating halls, blindly running into the squad of arbitrators. Despite the bolt shells, plasma shots, and maul blasts, they kept coming. Blood now bathed the ground like water after rainfall, the red liquid sticking to their boots.
Ever on they marched, the legion of maniacs never halting their stride. One by one, step by step, shot by shot, they forged a path to the source of daemonic power, the governor’s personal chambers coming into view.
Tendrils of power seeped from the room, almost seeming to beckon them forth as they entered the ritual site.
A raised altar lay in the middle of the room, dead servants and guards surrounding it in varying states of mutilation. A blinding light radiated from a great sphere that hung over it all, whispers seeping from its form.
“Ah! The marshal herself arrives! BRILLIANT!” The Governor shouted from upon the pedestal he stood upon, a great vortex beginning to form behind him.
“I had hoped that the ever-present thorn in my side would get the pleasure of watching my ascension! Now, behold the powers the true gods have granted me!”
Poor Jamison didn’t have time to fire a single plasma blast before he was lifted into the air next to the vortex. She watched as he screamed in pain, his bones and armor snapping from the sheer force that gripped him. Jameson’s now limp body fell to the ground, still primed plasma rifle thudding down next to him.
Lanius fared no better, as they bolt shells simply dissipated before making contact, rematerializing through a portal behind him. Orello, desperate, charged the governor, Flail in hand, before simply vanishing in a flash of light.
Aero, the fool, turned his gun on himself, unwilling to die to the heretic’s power.
Vastra…Vastra couldn’t move.
It was not fear that stopped her, but a force that restricted her limbs, and forced her into a still position, bolt pistol aimed just low of her target.
“And at last it is only the two of us! Watch and behold! PRINCE OF PLEASURE HEAR MY CRY! YOUR SERVANT BECONES YOUR POWER UNTO THIS WORLD, COME TO-!”
It was only then, that she realized there was more than two in the room. From the dark came a woman dressed in servant’s gear, rushing towards Jamison’s cracked weapon.
It was only in the blue light of the plasma that Vastra saw the feline ears upon her head…
“An abhuman…?”
“What are you-? NO!” The maddened heretic turned just in time to see the abhuman level the plasma rifle preparing to fire one last shot into him.
“DIE SCUM, FOR THE EMPEROR!” With one last triumphant cry, the woman jammed the trigger…
But a bolt of energy did not emerge, for in the weapons fall, it had taken that last piece of critical damage…
A great blue explosion shone in front of the fallen governor, his power barely holding it back…
Power that was more than strong enough to negate it entirely.
For despite the great power he held, the great gods that fed him, he was still human.
And humans were prone to one thing:
FEAR.
Regardless of his abilities, in his fear, the governor had focused every last shard of power into the barrier that now held back the explosion.
Every.
Last.
Shard.
There was nothing to stop her as she raised her arm.
There was nothing to stop her as finger fell upon trigger.
There was nothing to stop her as the bolt round burst from its chamber.
There was nothing to stop her as the round found its home.
Within the Governors skull.
With a great blinding flash of horrific light, Vatra faded from consciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Her eyes slowly opened to the dark chambers, a small wailing being heard over the silence. She reached for her bolt pistol before taking a closer look at its source.
Hidden in the corner of the room, just inside a hidden servants hall, was an infant, one who bore the exact same ears as the woman…
The hero, she realized.
That woman, that abhuman, had given her life to save the world…all in the Emperors name…and now what could only be her son stood next to Vastra.
When the inquisition arrived they would…no… She could not let the heros child be put to death so easily.
…Who said they needed to know about the child?
It would be days before the inquisition arrived, days before anyone had a chance to look over the survivor lists, not to mention her close knit circle of officers were adept at keeping things secret from nosy officials, whether that be official documents…or children.
“Kid…” She said, leaning up form where she lay, “What’s your name?”
She inspected the child, looking for any form of identifyer, before finding a small, hastily written, scrawl of paper simply saying “Joshua”.
“Don’t worry Joshua, everything will be alright, now let’s get moving before this palace comes down on top of us.”
[All systems functioning at acceptable levels]
[Recording Terminated]
~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Flesh-Mind Reinstated at 85% Power]
Damned thing, his memory module had always been buggy, gets worse the more power he put into his cog-mind…
Joshua…a name left behind the Priesthood.
That memory again, though, perhaps memory wasn’t the right word, ‘helmet recording’ fit far better.
Nearly a year ago Vastra had given him the recording, mere weeks before the tyrranids had swarmed Praxis IV. Before then, he had no way to remember his birth mother, no pictures, drawings, or recordings, nothing but memory.
Some may have seen the video as sad, and he understood them in a way; to them, it would be akin to reliving their loved ones death a thousand times, but to him…
It the was the greatest honor imaginable.
His mother, an abhuman, a mere slave, had been given the chance to give her life in holy service.
She had charged the creature without fear, without hesitation, without mercy.
She died for Praxis.
She died for the innocent.
She died for the Omnissiah.
She died…for him.
And in his eyes, that was all that mattered, as he watched her determined face charge against the heretic one last time, before ending the recording.
A loud clang sounded throughout the workshop; the offending wrench having fallen from his mechanical hand.
He really needed to fix the damn memory unit, how long had he been sitting here, armor plates sitting undisturbed next to him? Long enough a be a nuisance, surely.
Time to get back to work; the marine’s armor wasn’t going to fix itself.
He once again began the process of reapplying the plates before realizing quite the problem.
He couldn’t put the plates back on the marine’s armor, if the marine wasn’t there.
He shot up from where he sat, desperately looking about him for the vanished marine, just to find him leaning against the far wall.
“Hmm, I see you have reawakened, Errant. Off having another daydream, I take it?” The Astarte chuckled, uncrossing his arms and standing in full.
“Ugg, my apologies Lord Archenzo, my memory unit malfunctioned again. If you come back to the repair table, I can get the final plates applied with haste and a prayer for my attention span.” He said, ushering the veteran towards aforementioned table.
He had worked on the Lamenters armor before, practically having become the warrior’s personal assistant ever since they had saved him from his falling world. He was happy to do it, but there wasn’t much of a choice.
While the Priesthood on Praxis IV had accepted him, not in small part due to his tutelage under the Magos, those serving the coalition fleet had not.
His home world had been better about abhumans than most, still little more than slaves, but at the very least they were allowed to live. The Priests of other worlds had taken his existence as an insult and shunned him from their forges and armory.
Thus, he had taken to assisting the marines and guardsmen where he could, until a veteran of the chapters command squad, one Kaphail Archenzo had started having him follow them around after the chapter’s final tech marine fell.
The final ceramite plate fell into place, once again completing the golden power armor.
[Repair – Complete]
“A fine job, Priest, I can always count on you to repair my armor when needed.” The marine said, testing the newly affixed bracer. “Would you like to join me to the command bridge? We should be seeing the next world after a quick warp jump and it would be a shame to miss the sight of a world not over run, for once.” There was a bitterness to his words, one not unfound.
The coalition of ships they found themselves within was one made purely out of desperation. The hive fleets tendrils had been taking world after world, destroying almost everything in its path, leading to countless ships desperately evacuating from entire systems.
As time went on, and as safe worlds began to dwindle, the coalition was formed.
Made out of Guard regiments, PDF’s, and even a smattering of Mechanicus forces, the coalition fleet went system to system fighting the Tyrranid threat. It was not often they truly won a world, but they could at the very least save the innocent from certain death.
“Might as well, still need to report to the magos before the work period is over, but a slight deviation won’t hurt.”
“Ha! That more like it!” The veteran shouted, clapping Errant on the back hard enough to damage his footing, the digitigrade leg augments desperately gouging at the ground for purchase “You’re still young, can’t have you missing out on the few good things in life.”
The jovial nature of the Lamenters was…off putting. Aren’t space marines supposed to be inhuman death machines without emotion?
“Omnissiah willing I’m actually able to get some work done, someone has to keep the lower decks in working order, and I doubt you’ll be volunteering for the job anytime soon.”
Kaphails wrinkled face was practically beaming as he once more clapped Errant on the back, this time forcing him to the ground. Ganna have to run damage checks after this…
“There’s the snark I was looking for, it was starting to get a bit too formal for my taste.” He said, rubbing their bone white stubble in mock-thought.
“Ugh, keep the jokes to yourself old man.” He retorted, earning nothing but a booming laugh from the veteran.
Their walk continued in silence as they carefully made their way through the dark halls of the Mater. A recent skirmish had damaged the crafts generator, thankfully it was only enough to cause minor nuisances, but it was a problem all the same.
+ATTENTION: WARP JUMP IMMINENT+
The veteran mumbled something, giving the vox systems a concerned look before unclipping his helmet and putting it on.
“This is Archenzo, what’s going on up there? We shouldn’t be making the jump for another half hour.”
The faint sound of vox chatter met Errants ears, even without augments, the things were powerful.
“…Understood, keep me posted.” He looked to Errant then, the red lenses of his helm hiding the expression beneath. “The astropaths have detected something in the warp and suggested we moved the departure ahead, hence the sudden jump. Shouldn’t be too much to worry about.”
He nodded his understanding, warp issues were a near constant alongside the chapter, what could only be some vindictive god having it out for them.
The two braced for the inevitable shake that would rock the ship when they entered the warp, Errant digging his talons down and Kaphail grasping the wall with an iron grip.
+Warp Transfer in 3, 2, 1…+
The change from reality to warp had started off smoothly at first, the normal shudders going throughout the ship, but it was all ended with the sound of an earth shattering explosion.
+WARNING: GELLAR FIELD FAILURE – PREPARE FOR BOARDING+
“Ahhh, looks like our lucks caught up to once again. What is this, fourth time in the month? I swear, it keeps getting worse.” The marine’s mutterings were cut short as a great red daemon burst into the hall before them, a dark fog immanating from its furred from.
“Errant get behind me! Provide covering fire!” Kaphail shouted, drawing his power sword and charging the beast.
[ Shoulder Mounted Plasma Rifle/Online]
[Gamma Pistol/Online]
[Macro-Stubber/Online]
[Generating Firing Trajectory…]
A stream of energy rounds flew down the corridor, slamming into every possible weak point the creature held. With the amount of rounds searing its flesh it wouldn’t have made it to them, had it not been for the daemon after that, and after that, and after that.
A veritable swarm had begun forming, all manner of beasts charging into the meat grinder that was Kaphail.
His shield slammed one into the wall, the power sword to pierce its skull before sweeping out to behand the next before a plasma round boiled its brain.
The plan was simple; keep them in melee with Kaphail, while he peppered them with shots. Though he had full trust in his axe skills, he doubted they would matter all that much to a horde of daemons, better to let the marine do it for him.
Ever so Slowly they began to be forced back, the horde growing larger and larger.
“Errant, when I give the order, I need you to run for the ventilation shaft. Use your cogitators map to make your way to either the bridge or the barracks, whichevers closer. What matters is that my brothers are alerted to the daemons down here, do you understand?” The pleasant tone of the marine had dissipated, having been replaced by one far sterner.
“I don’t like it, but…I understand. Give the order.”
“Good. Move in three, two, one…NOW!”
He turned to skitter up the walls into the nearest shaft, but found his limbs unwilling to move.
“That, my friend, will not be necessary.” A bone chilling voice said from the halls end.
A chorus of wailing sung as lighting burned through the gather swarm, filling the air with the smoke of banished daemons, faint traces of electricity still in the air.
“…Librarian…?” Kaphail muttered confused.
The fog suddenly disbanded as a giant blue figure manifested from a tear in reality.
A great force threw Kaphail through the portal at great speed, the marine barely able to react to the sudden action. The same for then came for him, dragging him from the ground and towards the vortex.
He looked up as his momentum ceased to see the sorcerer’s ancient helmet, cracks spanned its from as millennia old scars broke its form. The heretic now stared him in the eyes, the two less than a foot apart.
“Despite everything you may wish, despite everything you believe, know this; I remain a loyal son.”
Confusion rocked Errants system as he was launched through the portal and into unconsciousness.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
[Life Signs – Stable]
[Activating Command Unit…]
Pain wracked his body for a brief second before a numbness covered his form, augments dulling his nerves.
Errants eyes slowly opened to a deep black sky, bright sparkling stars spread around, almost as though he were looking at a painting.
[Start Up Complete]
[All Systems Functioning at Acceptable Levels]
His clawed hands dug into the ground as he made to stand, the soft snow giving way to sharpened steel.
His enhanced optics scanned the world around him noting everything; from the pure white snow, to the canine daemon, to the glistening sky-
A plasma bolt slammed into the creature’s head before he could finish the thought, the cog moving faster than the flesh.
“Ah, yes, the daemon portal. Probably should have been a bit more on edge, shouldn’t’ve I?” Errant said out loud, a stressed laugh grating through the vox in his throat.
Looking up, he realized just the situation he was in; the wolf like beasts had completely surrounded his position, slowly preparing their attack.
[Abnormality detected]
+Pack data suggests the hostile units should have begun their assault+
+Units appear hesitant+
+Further data requested+
Indeed, the beasts were acting…strange.
They sat back howling at him rather than pushing the assault, using their numbers to overwhelm a single target.
What was halting their attack?
“You dropped this.”
Turning around, he saw exactly what made the daemons hesitant. Behind him stood the titanic form of Veteran Archenzo. Black blood was splattered over the yellow ceramite, and the brutalized form of a canine hung in a raised hand before, with a sickening crunch, its neck was shattered.
In his other fist was Errants power axe, the weapon appearing almost childlike compared to the marine.
“Ah! Its good to see your alright, I was starting to get worried.” He said, taking back the axe while the marine drew his sword.
“You needn’t worry about me, young one, I can handle myself just fine. These daemons on the other hand…I wonder, would I be aloud to keep one as a rug? I’ve been needing a new one for my quarters, and these pelts accent the yellow and white nicely.” His sword had begun to glow a faint blue, a dull hum coming from its blade.
“Depends, how likely is it that there will be one intact enough to ‘rugify’.”
[Weapons Systems Online]
“Oh, I don’t know. Hmmm, think you could get a clean shot on one of their hearts? I prefer my rugs soft, not burnt.”
No response was given as the creatures finally made their charge, well over thirty of the things making their way into the clearing.
[Data Catalogued]
+Target creature exhibits low intelligence and a disregard for its own wellbeing+
Plasma, Macro, and gamma rounds slammed into the horde as it made its desperate attack, beast after beast dying to the torrent of fire power.
They just…charged! How do you outsmart a creature dumb enough to charge at a ranged opponent from across a damned field?! Was that the point?! To mindlessly slam against the enemy until they either ran out of ammo or got tired?!
By the Omnissiah’s all-knowing mind, they were dumber than tyrranids! At least they had some form of cohesive combat skills!
“I will admit.” The marine spoke up while slamming a beast into the ground hard enough to collapse its body structure, “I’m not too sure I want one of these as a decoration. There just isn’t any…effort in it. Its like mounting the head of a rabbit you shot with an orbital cannon.” Another had its skull caved in by a half-hearted shield bash.
“Yes, this is…kind of sad.” Another trio found their end to a flurry of precise fire. “I swear, you could throw these at a child and they would still-” the loud ‘Crack’ of a high caliber weapon silenced him..
[High Velocity Target Detected]
[Engage Evasive Man-
A projectile slammed into his side sending him flying through the clearing, a strangely human sounding ‘oof’ ringing out alongside it.
“Well, speak of the devil and they shall appear…” He said, looking at the young red cloaked girl that had slammed into him.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Ruby Rose
She definitely had a concution…concoction…connection…HEAD BRUISE.
Why was there a steel wall in the middle of the forest?
Why was there a random horde of Grimm?
Why were there six moons?!
“Are you…Cognizant?” a bone chilling, metallic, voice spoke from above her.
Oh great, now she was hearing creepy voices!
“Ok, that was just rude. Lord Archenzo, is my voice creepy?” She heard the voice shout.
Wait…did she say that out loud?
“Yes, and it was very rude of you to say. Now, be a good kid and apologize for hurting Errants feelings.” The second voice was far older and came from A GOLDEN GIANT!
“My lord, please don’t make her do that.”
“She is a child is she not? They need to be taught kindness from a young age.”
“I’m not a kid!” She shouted at the giant, earning a laugh from the man.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Errant Castor
“Sure you aren’t. Regardless, who are you? I doubt anyone, regardless of age, makes a midnight walk through beast infested woods a habit.”
Her eyes widened, the…silver? Irises shining. Silver eyes?
[Topic Located in Data Storage]
+Grey or Silver eyes may be an indication of blindness or reduced vision+
She didn’t seem blind, but… best not to make assumptions.
“N-N-no! I wasn’t really on a walk I was…visiting someone.” Her voice had dropped to a mere whisper near the end, a sadness coming over her.
Kaphail shot him a look from behind his helmet, the message simple; Change the topic before I have to.
“I see…” first things first, figure out where they are. “Do you happen to have a map on hand? Admittedly, the two of us are quite lost and in need of a helping hand.” Remain formal and polite.
“Oh ya, here you can use my scroll!” She said, handing him spme form of holographic data slate.
…
Really? No questions? Why were they here? Why were they so heavily armed?
Was this some form of trick, or was the girl really this naive?
How could a girl, no, ANYONE be trusting enough of strangers they met in a dark forest?!
Oh sod it, I can care about that later.
[Connection Confirmed]
He felt the usual burst of knowledge upon connecting to a device flood through his systems, blinding him for a split second.
Information on the world flooded into his mind; Dust, Grimm, Faunus[?], they were all catalogued and recorded into his mental cogitator. Normally he wouldn’t have been able to gain all of the worlds information, but an odd form of Noosphere had been created permitting him a constant connection to this “internet”.
[Select Files Sent to Recipient: Mustard Mans Helmet]
Problem: The world not only had no form of void travel, but had no knowledge of the imperium, warp, xenos, or, well, anything…that was going to be a problem.
“Thank you, uh…what was your name?” He asked, realizing he had been mentally calling her ‘girl’ for the entire encounter.
“My names Ruby, Ruby Rose, your errant…right…wait” Oh, had she actually gained a hint of ‘stranger danger’?
“Are you guys Huntsmen!?” No. She had not. Great.
“In…a manner of speaking.” He responded after a quick search through his connection.
“OOH! Can I have your autographs!? I cant wait until Im a huntress like my sister! Wait, What are those weaponsdoyouhaveanyspeacial-
The following torrent of speech was likened to that of a flashbang.
c
“Is this yours?” Kaphail asked, holding the girl up by her cape.
They had barely managed to get her name before she had begun…Salivating, over their arsenal. Creepy children, trying to molest my guns…
“Yes, it is.” The blond man in the door frame looked tired, incredibly so, and had been muttering something about stupid daughters. “Please, come in, and…sorry about her, she can be a little…manic about new weapons.” He said stepping to the side, allowing kaphail to squeeze inside the house, dropping Ruby on the way in.
It was a quaint little place; wooden walls, decent insulation, a serviceable amount of tech. Honestly, it would have been paradise for most people.
“Thank you for bringing her home, she goes out a lot looking for fights, despite me specifically telling her not to.” The man said, glaring at the girl, motioning for her to go up a set of stairs. He looked back to them with a sigh, “Good to meet you, names Taiyang, or just Tai, and HOLY SHIT WHAT ARE YOU!” Tai shouted as Errant entered the building.
There was a brief second of confusion before they both figured out what went wrong.
Errant, like many Tech-Priests, did not constrain himself to the human form. Digitigrade legs gave him a slouched form, not to mention the extra set of arms and multitude of mechadendrites, he likely looked a tad bit…horrifying, to the average human.
“Why is everyone so rude tonight?”
“I apologize for my companion’s appearance, he designs his cybernetics for the sake of function, forgoing any cosmetic care.”
Forgoing- oh fuck you!
[Message Box Opened]
[You]
The hell do you mean “no cosmetic Care”?! I look great, much better than any of you fleshlings!
[Mustard Man]
Errant, I am simply trying to diffuse the situation, I would prefer we didn’t get in a fight with the first civilians we meet.
[You]
Ill accept your excuse…For now! Keep in mind you are on thin ice mustard man!
[Mustard Man]
Mustard what?
[Message Box Closed]
“Uh…Okay, Ill try not to freak out, just…not used to seeing things like that.” Tai looked no less disturbed but seemed to have gotten over the initial shock. “Um, thank you, again, for bringing Ruby home. Uh…I don’t think I have anything to reward you with but…thanks?”
Kaphail Raised a hand into the air, “We have no need of thanks, the safety of the innocent was reward enough for us.” Nudging Errant through the door, he made to leave, “Now, I do believe we have overstayed our welcome. I pray that your family meets good fortune, but must bid you farewell, we have places to be.”
The door closed behind them, leaving the man staring blankly from inside the house.
“Well, that was awkward…and offensive.” He said, distaste clear in his words.
“You cannot judge him too harshly, how often is it that a man like him meets a Tech-Priest? If anything, he took it quite well.” The marine responded, the two making their way towards a nearby road.
“You say that, but his daughter took it bett-…actually, now that I think of it, I don’t think she noticed.”
“Perhaps not.” He said with a chuckle, “She was young and naive, I doubt she has had time for fear to grip her heart like it does others.”
“Maybe so, but-“
He was cut off as his comms system lit up with a broadcast…On an Imperial Frequency.
+This is Sister Gariah requesting immediate aid. I have been stranded on an unknown location and am low on supplies. Setting message to repeat+
A quick glance to the marine and they were off, rushing to the messages source.
~~~~~~~~~~~~
Back at the Xiaolong residence…
“Ozpin, weve got a little bit of a problem…”