The stranger was a long way from home, and he was feeling it.
"It will go well," Am'Nir'yun had told him, as he was packing up to leave.
Of all his mates, she was his favourite, and when they had engaged in Ta'lissera, back when they had bonded with their small water caste community, he had stood beside her. Indeed, he still carried his bonding knife with him, despite the dangers he knew were ever present around him.
Then Ob Or'es had travelled, outside of his Sept, outside of the Tau Empire and come here, to what the Gue'la called Iaxrak VI, and set about beginning his mission.
He was to kindle unrest and incite rebellion.
"It is for the greater good," Am'Nir'yun had reminded him when he had turned to look at her one last time.
It was rare for his kind to attempt such a coup, but of late, the council had been open to other ideas of spreading the Tau'va without such horrific losses in battle. The numbers that had been killed in the Hayol System had shocked one and all.
"It is for the greater good," Ko'Shi, the ethereal, had echoed, as Ob Or'es had boarded the human ship that would take him to the planet.
It had been a harrowing experience, travelling with the Gue'la, despite them being committed members of the Tau empire. What had been worse was when they had arrived, and he had had to hide inside the crate of purple fruit while his handlers had haggled with the port's guards. He now could not stand the smell of them.
And so, here he was, on Iaxrak VI, working with his allies, to try to transform this poisoned world, to save its people and bring peace to them. To shine a light.
"It is for the greater good," he told himself, and then walked out onto the makeshift stage to begin his speech to the assembled crowd of the low and downtrodden of the hive.
When she arrived, finally, on Iaxrak VI, the tech priest relished the immediate connection that was established between her and the planet's network. Once again, a stream of data flooded into her cogitator and she felt herself again.
"Where might I find the home of House Von Stromm," she asked the port authorities after she had disembarked from her vessel, her vox caster ringing.
This was out of courtesy more than anything else. She of course knew where to go - she had the entire schematics of the hive open on an internal viewer. But, at her former companion's insistence, she had been trying to work on her interactions with regular humans and so had decided to play out this farce. For his part, the guard simply looked at her with an expression of disbelief and concern.
"They live at the top of the spire," he replied. "However, admittance is only permitted for those who–"
Suddenly, the man was interrupted, not from without but from within.
"Nesot Vakyon," a gruff voice cracked inside her mind. "Your presence is requested. Respond."
The Tech Priest scanned the data, looking for the sender.
"That is unexpected," she announced.
The port guard just stood there, unsure of what was happening.
"Did you hear me?" the guard asked.
Nesot had, and was already moving.
"I need you to take me to the Chapel barracks of the Novamaries," she demanded, leading the way.
Again, she knew where she was going, but was trying to keep up appearances. And it was tyring.
"We shall expect you, then," the voice in her head told her.
She had been summoned by a techmarine, and out of sheer curiosity, she had decided to answer the call.
Plirk and the rest of the Arbites followed the Sister of Battle into the huge mess hall, where thousands of workers sat, numbly eating their mid-day ration. He saw the worn out look on their faces, and the worn down limpness of their bodies, and for the first time in a long time was thankful of his lot in life.
"Attention!" the Sorotias boomed, bringing the room to near silence, save for the sound of chewing and swallowing. "I am looking for someone."
Suddenly, a fight broke out between two workers over a half eaten bar of corpse starch.
"Hey!" Plirk snapped at them. "Pay attention."
One of his squad quickly went over and apprehended the rabble rouser.
"Good news is coming!" the worker shouted before being hit with a repression baton, shutting them up.
The Sister of Battle looked around the room before continuing.
"There is a small child.. It is important that we find her."
She then motioned up to the vid display screen and waited for it to change from the usual Ecclesiarchal catechism. After a moment, it flickered to show a blurry image of the girl who Plirk had been seeking.
"Has anyone seen her?"
The Arbites surveyed the workers but didn't see any sign that anyone recognized the child. Of course not. This was pointless, he knew. Even if someone knew who she was, without an incentive to squeal, nothing would be learned.
"We have to offer something…" he had tried to tell the Sorotias before hand, but she had refused.
"The truth will emerge. The Emperor will see to it," she had replied.
What arrogance, Plirk though, scanning the room again.
"I know who that is…" a voice called out then.
But before the Arbite could figure out who had said it, gun fire erupted from the back of the hall.
"Get down," the Sister ordered, as she pulled her bolt pistol out and began slamming rounds into the crowd.
Madness followed.
"Over here!" Plirk shouted to his squad, but two of them were already on the ground, one dead, one bleeding out.
The Sorotias leaped then, drawing her power sword and cutting down three workers with one strike.
Everywhere, people were yelling and screaming. The Arbites, originally caught off guard by the attack, had rallied, and were steadily moving forward.
"Good news is coming!" someone hollered, and a hail of autogun bullets raked the crowd, killing indiscriminately.
"Die!" the Sister roared, rushing headlong into the fire, shells bouncing off her jet black power armour.
Plirk watched in awe at her fearlessness, but then found himself spun around as his flak jacket puffed with a sudden impact.
"I'm hit," he called out, feeling across his chest in search of blood.
It was then that something in the room exploded, and his world went black.
[to be continued...]