The decision

So it had all come down to this. The Lord Captain had offered Idira a choice. No, better than a choice. An opportunity of the kind that is offered only once in a lifetime. But could she trust an enemy when her life was on the line?

Funny. Tervantias once strapped me to his operating table. I remember the fear. The pain. The humiliation. I remember praying an uncaring Emperor for me to wake up. And now look at how the tables have turned. He lives or dies, and I get to say the final word. When was the last time I made a decision for myself? I...I can't remember.

"This device. What will it do to me? Can it really stop the whispers inside me?"
"That much I can assure. Your connection to the beyond will be severed. Permanently."
"Will there be pain?"
"Most certainly. But it will subside."

Tervantias might not have believed in luxuries such as anesthetic, but even he wouldn't cripple Idira while she was undergoing surgery. Not intentionally. The haemonculus had everything to gain from the deal. He would never let it go sour. But still...

"I sense uncertainty in you, child. Let me remind you of the benefits of our agreement: you will gain several years of your life. Your kind shall no longer see you as an abomination. You will be able to live among the members of your species without prejudice."

"..."

"You might even find love."

I want to be loved! Idira thought, before she realized she was screaming. She put a hand over her mouth. She had not intended to express her thoughts so openly.

Her companions shifted uncomfortably. To save everyone from second-hand embarrassment, the Lord Captain offered his insight. "Idira… I won't say you don't deserve to partake in your desires. But before you are committed, consider this. The whispers have been a part of your life for as long as you can remember. It wouldn't be an exaggeration to claim that they shaped you as a woman. But I also believe that the gift of foresight has held considerable sway over your decisions. So my question for you is this: without the whispers, where do you see yourself?"

Where do I…? Heh. How ironic. I was so concerned with getting the whispers out of my head, that I never considered where I'd end up next. Gah! I'm such a mess. It's a bit late to figure that out, though. Whispers. For the last time. I need your help. What am I supposed to do with myself?

The whispers spoke.
They spoke of a favorable bargain.
They spoke of pain in the near future.
They spoke of a scar that would heal. But only on the body.

They spoke of a second scar. A mutilation. Of the soul.
They spoke of loss. Of the desire and of the self.
They spoke of a life where only servitude mattered.

They spoke of a future that Idira lived every day.
Shunned. Loveless. Forever.

Worthless. It would be all worthless. But you knew that, didn't you? You treacherous bastard. Doesn't matter. Tervantias. Prepare to die.
Idira clenched her fist until the barbs drew blood. The device shattered in her hand. Loudly.

Tervantias' stupor lasted for the brief time it took him to realize Argenta had heard the noise, connected the dots, and pulled the trigger. The burst of her Bolter hit the haemonculus squarely in the chest. He died before the broken pieces of his own implant had hit the ground.

The truce died with Tervantias. Abelard Werserian and Henrix van Calox rushed forward to meet the enemy with their blades. All other members of the retinue fired upon the remaining abominations.

And then it was all over. The enemy had been caught completely off guard. Without the directions of their master, Tervantias' creations fell like a helpless ship engulfed in a Warp storm.

"This battle went surprisingly well." seneschal Werserian commented "I only wish more of our battles were as stacked in our favor."
"I do not believe this matter is settled yet, Abelard."
"Is it not? What makes you say that, Lord Capt...IDIRA!"

Lady Cassia Orselio considered herself a painter.

She had a particular talent at expressing emotions though colors: the determination of a noble on the eve of a duel. The indignation at the treachery of a rival. The suffering for an unrequited love. The joy of a prayer answered. She would gather all these struggles of the imperial nobility, distill them into colors, and impress them upon her canvas.

But then again, it is easier to gauge emotions when your third eye stares directly into the Warp.

Master van Calox and seneschal Werserian had charged into the fray to draw blood, and so their aura was a vivid crimson. The Lord Captain and Miss Heydari were surrounded by nebulous shades of gray, for both were merchants at heart, and thus inherently difficult to read. Sister Argenta had overwhelmed the Xenos with holy fury, and that made her a gleaming candle of white light.

Idira's aura was an ink as black as despair.

"Lord Captain, I would appreciate it if you could instruct your retinue to leave us alone for a moment."
"Of course. You all heard the Lady Navigator. Secure the area." A blatant lie, obviously, there was no source of danger in an enclosed room. Still, Cassia Orselio wished to speak with Idira in private. The remaining members of the retinue dispersed, and the Rogue Trader awaited at a respectful distance.

Cassia was also an avid reader, and she had once chanced upon a particular tome, the possession and use of which was inconceivable for a lady of her standing. A medicae handbook with detailed miniatures of common medical procedures, not for the faint of heart. No one could exactly tell how a first aid manual had made its way into her private library, but she still decided to read it for the novelty. She had once hoped to use its teachings to heal the grievous wounds of a valorous knight in need. That knight had yet to come but, after some practice on her servants, the instructions within had proved useful in the past.

"Miss Tlass, extend your arm and remain still." she ordered. Idira complied without a word. She was too numb to the pain to offer any resistance.

First aid begins by taking the proper preparations. Cassia's hands were dirty for all the travel, so she started by pouring a hand sanitizer ointment upon them. Cassia also knew that the fragments would have to remain inside Idira's hand to prevent further blood loss or infection, and so she took the hand and covered it with a thin gauze. Cassia then used other gauzes to create a layer of padding around the fragments. Finally, she covered the fragments and the padding with a bandage. That was about the extent of her medical knowledge. A proper chirurgeon would later have to remove the fragments and mend Idira's wounds, but for now this was enough.

"It is done. Now tell us what ails you."
"The whispers, Lady Orselio. They...spoke to me. They said that device would consume me. They said I would remain alive but I would not live. They said that the fatigue of work would fill the emptiness of my soul. And I would never find acceptance or love."

"Tervantias lied to you" the Rogue Trader interjected "as I suspected he would. You did well by not trusting him. But I believe there is more to this story than that."
"There is. I had barely broken that contraption when the whispers decided to speak. A second time. They...mocked me for my cowardice. They claimed that, by refusing to mutilate myself, I had thrown away my life. I could tell that they wanted to hurt me, but..."

"...they revealed a secret. No, not a secret. A prophecy. A prophecy that I fear to be painfully true."
"A prophecy, Miss Tlass?" Cassia asked with a mixture of curiosity and foreboding "What did it say?"
"It said my life will be forfeit before the tenth hundred shift. It said I had an opportunity to reverse my curse. And my defiance sealed my fate. I heard nothing more."

A most ill omen. The Rogue Trader quickly ran some math. A solar day was composed of three work shifts. The whispers claimed Idira had no more that a thousand shifts in her hourglass. One thousand divided by three. The calculation was simple. The result was grim.

Idira had less than a year to live.

"Then, we need to make these few months the most memorable of your life".