Having finally met again, Roger and Anya begin heading east to join the Leopards. The ravages of war begin to affect the land, leaving devastation and refugees in its wake, something they see first hand. In the heavens above, Edmund and his entourage grill the Konstantins over the circumstances of Rogers disappearance, finding the answers provided quite lacking. But for D'Uxford and Inquisitor Beauchamp, it allows for a few moments of memory and stories of the family he once had.
And just as the Ranger and Knight have a plan to help and regroup with the Leopards, a nearly forgotten task necessitates a detour...
"...so, Evita got shot, somehow recovered, and now Johannes is using her like a holy battering ram?"
"In essence. Miracles and those affected by them are a rather convincing argument for your kind."
"Thrones sake. I disappear for a Terra-damned week and everything goes nuts."
"I think the situation was already questionable, it is just more noticeable since you were not a direct part of it."
"You're probably right. If I started to think about the twists and turns my life has taken, I'd go insane."
One could say many things about Haikk Five, its western parts in particular, but few would ever say that it was not pretty. The pair were able to enjoy the scenery to its fullest, moving slowly on a horse Roger had stolen from one of his fallen enemies. While he was firmly in the rough, cheap saddle that came with the mount, Anya preferred to side saddle behind him. Considering the deceptively light weight of the Eldari form, the animal did not seem to notice much.
"I can't believe Kallen and Moire would just run off like that."
"Oaths and such. Frankly, we still do not trust Erwan much."
"Which none of you have explained."
"And we still cannot determine. Steryn and the others tried to investigate, but they have preferred to stay away and watch from afar."
"Even if my lads were heading straight into certain death?"
He felt a slight tap on the back of his neck.
"Do not be ridiculous. If such a situation arose, we would certainly help them."
"Well thank the Emperor. At least not all of you buggered off."
"Mother was also involved."
"I have to ask, does she hate me?"
Anya thought the question over for a few moments before shaking her head.
"If she truly did, you would not have the Leopards. And you seem to forget that she is more accepting of you than most of the Guardian councils around her. And if Ducaish knew of a human commanding Eldar-"
"How can't they? I've served with them; I've been on the Craftworld itself!"
"The War Mask would make them forget, and your visit was nothing more than an oddity, like your kind treats a new animal in a… what do you call it? A zoo?"
"Oh, that's nice."
He felt her head rest on his shoulder.
"Would you believe that I missed your sarcasm?"
"Would you believe I kept thinking about you once I got chased out of Nou-Par?"
"I can believe it… and I would not pretend as if I did not enjoy that."
Before they could get any closer, they saw the road ahead clogged with people and carts heading west.
"Take a guess what this is all about," he said before nudging Anya.
"Go back friend! The Burgons and their Benelige allies are marching west!"
The man in tattered clothes and threadbare shoes had a wild look in his eyes, emanating danger. Given the Eldars similar build to the human form, the only notice many of the refugees took of Anya cursed Roger for his luck.
"Truly?"
"Yes! You and your woman should turn back; the Heretic brood of the east is nearly at Langres! They want to hang the bishop from the basilica and strangle all true sons of the Emperor!"
"I'm a man of war; such threats don't frighten me. Maybe I can join the garrison and help the defense."
"Please do sir! Johannes and his demons will not stop there, but if they can be forced back, we'll have another year or two before they try again. Then they'll be facing the Seneschals might."
"What little there is of it," Roger muttered. "Thank you. Where are you all headed from?"
"Villages to the east of Langres. Half the damned county has fallen. Disgraceful!"
Anya turned to face the man and spoke in perfect Franc, much to Rogers' surprise.
"And what of the Bishop? Why does he not send men forward to engage them?"
"A good question, Madame. Either he has no hopes of winning on the field, or he is taking all the soldiers to defend his city. And as usual, we poor peasants are left to pay the price."
"How long until they reach the walls?"
"Normally, we would have about a month, but that bastard Johannes has some witch who passes off her dark magicks as miracles. Got shot and recovered, as if that isn't a sign of her wickedness."
Roger stifled a laugh at the thought of Sister Evita being considered an unholy witch.
We should tell her about this.
I doubt she'll find it that funny. Wouldn't you agree, "madame"?
Not the worst thing a human has called me.
He normally did not like her sneaking into his mind, but this seemed like the safest way to laugh at the peasants' ignorance and the half-truths he repeated until they became bold-faced lies.
"So how long?"
"Throne, pardon my blasphemy, but I think there's probably at least a few days before they get to the gates."
"Then we better ride on."
He flipped a golden throne at the man in appreciation for the news and assessments. With an appreciative bow, the man joined the refugees. The riders continued towards the east, against a wave of battered civilians heading the opposite way.
"A shame that the innocent must be forced away like this."
"You really haven't seen much war, have you Anya?"
"More than you would think. But the Eldari outlook on conflict is quite different from those of your kind."
"How so?"
"You humans, and your Imperium as a whole, believe that there is little other than war, at least from my experience. The Asuryani fight to survive, but it is not through any willingness to cause destruction or harm. If we could arrange alliances and ensure trade, there would seldom be a warrior called to duty. We would be happier that way."
"Reality has a most unfortunate way of making our dreams remain so."
"Sadly, that seems to be true."
They rode forward for a short while, finally reaching the end of the fleeing group. The way seemed empty and clear as they reached a fork in the road. In the middle of the fork stood a pole, with two signs pointing down the roads. One read "Langres," the other "Dezean."
"Where to next?"
"Well, I know Johannes swears loyalty to Duke Phillip of the Burgons, and his seat is in Dezean. But on the other hand, the quickest way to find my boys and get everyone back together…"
"Is if we go to Langres."
"And it would not hurt to have a man on the inside, would it?"
"And an Eldar."
He reached back to pat her shoulder but only found her head. Undaunted, he tapped it a couple times to her annoyance.
"That bishop and his men will never know what bloody hit them."
Thus, they continued towards Langres. And to war.
XXXXXX
"That's not an answer, Strategos! I've had no word from my man in over a week, and you and the rest of the goddamn Konstanins have sat on their hands!"
"I understand your frustration, Prince Edmund, but our hands are tied. Our mission is entirely focused on keeping the peace on Haikk Five, and we can only do this at the mercy of the local government there."
"Fine. Tell me what exactly you do know, at the very least."
"Y-yes, your highness. The file before you has most of the information."
The dull, mechanical hum of the life support systems onboard the Starfort Langriano were the only thing that filled Edmunds ears as he sat in seething anger.
"He's full of shit," he whispered to Robert D'Uxford, sitting next to the Prince with a blank, unreadable stare.
"Possibly, but it would not hurt to hear their side of the story."
"I thought we dressed ridiculously for court. These boys take it for the turbans alone."
"They certainly know where to put their money."
They were inside one of the myriad conference rooms on board the starfort, the commander of all Konstantonoi in the system, Strategos Ioannis Apion, along with a few of his staff facing a vicious grilling from the commander of the Haikk Crusades Intelligence office. For reasons none of them could understand a bishop was included in the audience, and for reasons they dreaded, so was an Inquisitor. She watched them from the corner, as if taking joy at the obvious discomfort her presence brought.
"Here is a basic timeline of events: Domestikos Philes met Sir Roger on the landing pad at the Chateau de Seneschal in Nou-Par. They spent the morning, and until one o'clock that afternoon, in the courtroom of the Seneschal himself. When presented to the man in question, Sir Roger was promptly dismissed."
"What exactly happened?" D'Uxford queried. "Did Rog-Sir Roger say anything to offend the Seneschal?"
"From what the Domestikos tells us, the Seneschal said little. Actually, in his report, he noted that Cardinal Aurior spent most of the meeting in "A blatant interrogation with utter hostility." Then the Seneschal, whose mental faculties I can personally attest as rather poor, dismissed him quickly. He saw him as an Arthurian archetype."
"What?"
"He believed that Sir Roger reminded him of Sir Percieval of myth and legend."
"What the fuck?" Edmund blurted out.
"Pardon my interruption, Strategos, but I do not know much about the Cardinal on Haikk Five."
All those in attendance turned to the Bishop of Chelmster in response.
"Well bishop, he is of average stock for such a position: extra son of an old and noble lineage. Rose quickly due to more than a few of his ancestors being in the position. The Auriors have long held sway over the Seneschal and the religious aspects of Haikk Five."
"I see. Thank you."
The Bishop of Chelmster gave a knowing glance to the Inquisitor, who understood the implications of the Strategos' answer.
"The Domestikos attempted to find lodging for Sir Roger after this and left him in the Chapel there. They both hoped that another attempt to present the knight to court would prove more fruitful after a day. A few minutes after leaving, he returned to find your knight in a state of exhaustion and his blade drenched in blood. Inside the Chapel were five corpses, two of which were priests. Obviously, our man was distressed at this sight and was quickly informed that Sir Roger acted in self-defense. Considering he murdered two men of the cloth, especially under the Cardinal himself, he was declared persona non grata to all our garrisons and a fugitive to Haikk Five and its government."
"How did he escape Nou-Par?" Edmund growled.
"Officially, we do not know."
"And unofficially?"
The Strategos and his staff looked at each other and whispered before the commander spoke again.
"The Domestikos believed Sir Roger and his story. Considering the lack of confidence we have in the Seneschal and his government, it is no surprise that he found plenty of allies in our camp. He was provided a map, a horse, and smuggled out of the city with a squadron of our Cataphracts. He was left on his own a short distance from the city gates, and that is the last we heard or saw of him."
"Where do you think he went?"
"East, most likely. Possibly to Stratioupolis. The Komes in command there is not exactly a fan of our dealings with Haikk Five's leadership, and he tends to act on his own."
"A man after my own heart," the Prince whispered to D'Uxford. "And what of the men who went with Roger? What is their status?"
"We believe they are in the east. We do not know any specifics, but we have not heard or been informed of them being casualties. Whenever an Imperial soldier or citizen is killed on Haikk Five, the locals know well to inform or alert us to gain custody of the remains for burial or return. There has been no notification of such anywhere."
"And what of the Sororitas that was nearly killed in the county of Langres?"
All eyes snapped to the side of the room opposite to the bishop. The voice of Katherine Beauchamp, though soft and feminine, was also commanding and firm. It did not take a very astute mind to notice that the Konstantins quickly became flustered and nervous. Edmund thought that it was all very interesting.
"Erm… p-pardon, Inquisitor?"
"I have on good authority from a few confidential sources that a member of the Adepta Sororitas was on the planet and was nearly killed. By a Vicar, of all things."
"M-must be a rumor. That is ridiculous. If such a thing were true, we would know and tell you."
"It would be in your best interest."
She read their reactions carefully, decades of experience confirming that the envoy and his party spoke the truth. They were utterly ignorant to the ongoings of Haikk Five, whether through the willing ignorance of their lower ranks or malicious intent of whoever benefited from such. With every bit of information she and the Bishop gleaned from the planet, the more their suspicions and fears rose.
"And what of the raising of armies in the east? Are these confirmed or corroborated by your forces?"
The empty stares that Edmund received were enough to break his already thin patience.
"Well, I thank you for the audience. I understand you are more concerned with meeting the Lord-General Militant, but your input is essential towards gathering our knowledge of the Haikk system and its current situation."
"Of course, Your Highness. If you have nothing else to ask of us-"
"I have everything I need. I wish you a good meeting with the Lord-General and a safe journey back to Haikk Five."
"Thank you."
The Strategos left the room, trailed by a squad of clerks and subordinates. As the bulkhead door was sealed shut, Edmund made a growl that sounded like a lion prepared to strike.
"Lying fucking cunts."
"I wouldn't say such things Ed. Remember: never attribute malice to stupidity."
"Or vice versa, Robert."
D'Uxford frowned and nodded toward his mother.
"Of course."
"Prince Edmund, you know Roger better than I do. Is he still alive, by your guess?"
Edmund shrugged.
"He's been thrown into bad situations before and came out in one piece, Inquisitor. I refuse to believe that he's dead or captured. What did you think of the Konstantins?"
"Either they are firmly in delusion, or they have no idea what is happening in their area of responsibility. Both are poor and unlikable answers, but I did not see them attempting to lie to us. I think they genuinely are ignorant."
"Charming. Your Grace, do you think you can use your influence in the Church to get some information?"
Chelmster shook his head.
"I have no understanding or knowledge of Cardinal Aurior, and if Sir Roger was correct in his reports, he is not the only one on that planet. And even then, I am but a lowly bishop in comparison to men who represent the faith of entire worlds. My hands are unfortunately tied."
"Can't you visit? Ask some questions?"
"That would be…" the Bishop trailed off as he looked at Beauchamp. "Unadvisable. From what I can tell, the Cardinal is the planetary governor in all but name, and the Seneschal has an extremely poor introduction to us Anglois. That, and I am certain between our questions and sending fact finding missions, we have certainly made more than a few parties extremely nervous. We should exercise caution, especially when we are unsure whether our best asset there is indisposed."
"I have to agree with His Grace," the Inquisitor added. "I think we need to find out what happened to Sir Roger and the Leopards before we take any further actions."
Edmund tapped his fingers on the conference table before turning to D'Uxford.
"You agree with them Duck?"
"It couldn't hurt to wait. Better to take a careful first step than fall through the ice."
"Well, if everyone here thinks so, I'll acquiesce. But we do need something of a plan, I don't want to just sit and wait on my arse for something to finally happen."
"And we'll make one Ed, just give us time."
"We have all the time in the Imperium, Duck. Roger doesn't."
The group fell silent at this fact, but the Bishop spoke up to try and raise their spirits.
"Sir Roger has been in my prayers since the news of the unfortunate events in Nou-Par. I think he has some protection from the Emperor, and he will return safe and sound."
"Hopefully your optimism becomes infectious, Your Grace. Now that we have the glorified firestarter that is the Konstantins report, we should get back to what we were doing. I have a stack of paperwork that seems to never lessen, and I can guess you two have your own issues."
"Correct, Your Highness. I might have to keep my Sisters away from the Konstantins, ever since the Inquisitor gave us news about Sister Evita, they are baying for vengeance and blood. That they have done nothing to stop or help her has been a declaration of war in their eyes."
"And what of those of the Sacred Avis?"
"Even if the Order of the Martyred Lady and the Avis do not see eye to eye on most things, Sororitas are Sororitas. They are not as bloody thirsty as my contingent, but they certainly are not happy."
The Inquisitor giggled quietly.
"I have already received a few requests to begin the process of Exterminatus. I am almost certain the hands that wrote them have Fleur-de-Lis tattoos."
The statement made the room noticeably colder. Even the Bishop slightly cringed at the statement.
"They can't do that!" Edmund burst out. "Just because one Sororitas gets injured does not a heretical planet make!"
"Prince Edmund," she said threateningly, "Planets larger and more loyal than Haikk Five have been obliterated for less."
The Prince did not respond, but the slight twitch in his face was not one she normally faced when the work of the Inquisition was brought up. Instead of fear or dread, he was filled with anger, or defiance. She thanked the Emperor that the Planjou dynasty was as loyal as they were, for such fearlessness and irreverence towards even the Inquisition was dangerous. Chelmster and her son showed a decent amount of deference to this threat at least.
"Well, if possible," Edmund grumbled as he stood up and began to leave, "Allow my men to get out of there in one piece."
"I will see what I can do."
The Bishop followed him out, leaving D'Uxford and Inquisitor Beauchamp alone. It was bad enough she decided to ruin the mood by bringing up the most destructive and devastating weapon in her organization's arsenal, but the man had slightly dreaded being alone with her.
"Is it true?"
"What do you mean, Robbie?"
He grimaced at the nickname but continued.
"That you were asked to prepare an Exterminatus?"
"Of course," she laughed. "But do you know how many requests myself and other Inquisitors get for such? And believe me, the reasons can range from justified to ludicrous. One accusation of a jilted former confidant or lover must be taken seriously as proof of a cult operating on a planet."
"So, you have no interest of ordering-"
"Of course not. I guess having the power to do so is more humorous to us Inquisitors than most other members of the Imperium."
"You think wielding the ability to obliterate millions or billions of souls is funny? I see where my unenjoyable sense of humor comes from."
"Your father was a dry, sarcastic ass as well. I think that is why I liked him so much."
"You never did tell me how you met him."
Katherine Beauchamp grinned slightly and sat down next to her son.
"I had been sent to Anglerre to monitor a few things. There was a belief among my fellows in the sector that a rebellion was fermenting there."
"The War of the Lions?"
"We believed it was going to be wider and more destructive as it turned out, but one can never be too careful, yes?"
"Of course."
"Well, having looked over reports and files, I believed that the danger point was somewhere in the Western Isles, not Gasceaux as it turned out."
"We always have had rebellion in our blood, the Old Avalonians and Islanders alike. No one can fault you for that conclusion."
She took a strange enjoyment in the compliment. To say their relationship was strained was an understatement, but the fact that he did not violently hate her after everything soothed her battered and firm soul.
"Thank you. Anyway, I decided to… disguise myself as a travelling noblewoman, the Inquisition has training and equipment to do such things. After learning courtly manners and dressing the part, I arrived in the Western Islands and began ingratiating myself with the local nobility. Getting your fathers interest was not planned."
"The D'Uxfords have been Justiciars for generations. You never thought to get into the good graces of the most powerful family on the Western Islands?"
"I thought it would be too risky and obvious. I was trying to get the attention of the Clare family."
Robert sat up quickly at this admission.
"Those bloody morons? Why?"
"They seemed to be the most likely to lead a rebellion. They have never had a love for any family holding the post of Justiciar that was not them. Especially the D'Uxfords of Clavham."
"Of course."
"So, I arrived at the Great Tourney hosted by Lord Cantwell, about a year or two before his untimely death."
"No one seems to take the dangers of boar hunting seriously, even if it kills a lord or two every year. Apologies for interrupting."
He was not wrong: she had joined his father on more than a few hunts. Whatever enjoyment the nobility of Anglerre found in the sport made little sense to her. Even after facing demons and horrors beyond comprehension, she remembered the snarling, tusk-faced animals in her nightmares.
"Well, I was the honored guest of Cantwell, sitting in the main booth to watch jousting and buhurts. During the first set of jousting, I caught the eye of Gilbert Clare, and I think your father would have told you how much of a menace that man was."
"Certainly. Big, strong, and dumb as a box of rocks."
"Apt and correct assessment. He was knocking every competitor off their mounts like a machine, one after the other. Being focused on him, I had taken little notice of the other jousts. As the tourney concluded, there were only two competitors left: Gilbert, who had given me glances and even had the gall to wink at me, and his competitor."
She paused for dramatic effect and smiled.
"I remember thinking how unique and pleasing to the eye his heraldry was. I do not know how I was not able to notice it earlier. Gold on black is a very fitting pair in the color spectrum. I turned to Cantwell and asked him who the knight was."
"I hope he spoke highly of him."
"Hardly," she chuckled. "Said he was the extra son of the Justiciar of the Western Islands, a rather quiet and bland young man. "You cannot trust a man who spends more time reading than practicing with his sword," he told me. Then I asked him if he was not particularly skilled, how had he reached the final joust? That shut him up right quick."
"I always thought the family has some sort of equine blood in us. I'm as good of a horseman as he was, and Edmund can confirm that."
"Have you been taking time to practice riding, even here?"
D'Uxford nodded.
"Ed found a large, unused storage room. Laid the ground with dirt and rides around every other day. I join him to get the legs stretched."
"Very good. Your father always emphasized your horsemanship."
"And what did you think of it?"
"A bit superfluous, but you must remember that I come from civilized worlds with automobiles and similar forms of transport. The horse is still quite archaic through most of the Imperium."
"Their loss."
D'Uxford responded as if any other answer or opinion was alien, heretical even. He truly was his father's son.
"Well, Gilbert and your father charged, and after three ties, Gilbert declares that he dedicates his inevitable victory to his fiancé, Lady Eva or something like that. Of course, not being married still left an opening for me to take advantage of. And given the amount of bastards Gilbert has, he has not changed much. Poor Eva."
"Their son is the commander of the Fifth Anglerre Regiment on Haikk Four by the way."
"Hopefully he does not hold a grudge."
"A Clare letting a grudge go is as likely as a heretical Sororitas. The man at best gave me a cold shoulder, at worst called my father unfit for the position of Justiciar."
"Not shocking. Ralph had no declaration, but he already had a marriage arranged but there was no official betrothal."
D'Uxford raised an eyebrow at this.
"What?"
"He never told you? He was supposed to marry Lady Elise Nagle."
"I've met her before. I have a feeling that her having more than a few hairs on the chin did little to endear her. And being fat."
"He was ready to do his duty for the family. The Nagles would have provided the D'Uxfords another essential vote in Parliament when your grandfather's term as Justiciar ended to keep it under the family along with a dowry of land that would have secured their personal rule over the northern isles. Either way, your father charged forward and threw him flat on his back. And when he was given the floral crown on the end of his lance, it was firmly expected he would give it to Elise. Imagine the surprise of the noble families of the Western Isles when he rode up to me and lowered his weapon for me to accept."
"I can imagine," he chuckled. "And the rest is history?"
"Quite right. I sat next to him at the celebratory dinner; I talked with him… and the rest truly was history."
She smiled at the memories that began to flow back. At first, she had not believed her luck: finding a way into the most powerful and connected family in the Western Islands. But as time passed and she learned more about Ralph D'Uxford, there was something more than a mission obligation to stay nearby. Then one night in Clavham manor-
"Inquisitor?"
"Thinking of times long passed. But I think we can speak more on this later."
"Very well. I wanted to ask you something more pressing for the present, by the way."
"Yes?"
"Did Roger ever get to find that agent of yours?"
She shook her head and sighed.
"He vanished before I heard any further details. Speaking of which, I need to see what my agents have found so far."
They both stood and began to walk out of the conference room.
"Oh, Inquisitor?"
"Yes, Robbie?"
"If you have any more stories like that one… I would be glad to hear them."
"Gladly."
The two left the room and went their separate ways. Both came from the meeting with opposite emotions. D'Uxford was left with more questions than answers, his father never speaking about his mother other than praise and generalities. Katherine walked away with a feeling of relief at her son's reception to her stories. Maybe she could mend their relationship after all.
XXXXXX
"Of bloody course," Roger cursed as he dashed into the barn. "Only good thing about war, plenty of places to hide or take shelter."
It was pouring down rain outside the abandoned structure, but the roof was thankfully well sealed. The poor farmers who lived here had only been gone for a week.
"The rain has never bothered me, especially with my cloak. It has dealt with much worse storms and all sorts of weather."
"I'll take this over being in a desert. I'm still finding sand in some of my clothes a year after we were stuck there."
"Agreed. Our armor can only do so much as well. The rain and fog also give enough cover that I can relax."
"You're not feeling relaxed around me?"
He barely missed a horseshoe thrown his way at high velocity.
"Oi!"
"You should know the answer to that."
"Well, you didn't have to throw anything at me over it. At the very least we can get comfortable, we're not going anywhere in this rain, and poor Chevy is quite happy in that hay."
Their horse, who he had decided to name, was lying down in a nearby hay pile, more interested in staying warm than being bothered into travelling any further. Through powers that he thought better not to concern himself with, Anya had somehow convinced the poor animal to go to the absolute limit before refusing to go any further. He did not ask for specifics as he sat down with her in another pile of straw.
"I would not argue either. And I would think keeping our mount happy would benefit us. That…"
She stroked his left cheek with a few of her fingers as she looked him in the eyes.
"And spending another night alone with you is quite fine with me."
"Feelings mutual," he said with a wink. "Dry, but it's a bit drafty here."
She stood up and moved behind him, sitting behind him and wrapping her cloak and arms around him.
"Warmer?"
"Much. Thank you."
"Do you think the easterners will welcome you?"
"Anyone the west hates is a friend of the east, far as I can tell. Besides, I don't have much of a choice. Can't call in a Valkyrie to sweep me up, right? And as tempting as it would be to go through a Webway gate, if you knew where one was, I still need to get back to the lads."
"And even if I did find one, they have proven to be in poor condition. Barely functioning. I would not risk you or anyone with the danger of a Webway failure."
"I'd prefer that."
He pulled out a map, the same the Konstantins had provided.
"Since we're here together, we should plan this out. Heading to Langres…"
He traced his finger from Fonblau, moving east. There was a red "X" where he had met Anya.
"We are somewhere close to here," Anya pointed near a small fork. "It will most likely take half a day's journey to get there. It will be a straight ride to Langres, and hopefully you can join the defenders."
"Sounds good to-"
He tried to hide it, but she instantly felt him tense up.
"What is wrong?"
"That town. On the other stretch of road."
"Paisy?" she asked, looking at the small dot. "Is there something about it that interests you?"
"We have to make a detour there."
"Not unless you have a good reason, we will not have enough time."
Roger sighed and rubbed his eyes.
"I can't tell you why. All I can say is that we need to go there or it would be unbelievably bad for both of us. If we could avoid it I would, but this is the quickest and easiest way to get there."
"Why?"
"I have to keep some secrets."
"Very well."
Her response was not a happy or understanding one. Even more worrying to her was that attempts to scan his mind for answers were met by nothing but haze. Either he had figured out how to resist her abilities, or he had locked down the information so well that it was unreadable. But Roger knew what he was doing and why. It had been burned into his mind as much as the original orders were burned into his mind.
Agents last location was in the middle of Haikk Five: Paisy.
He had little option but to follow the directive. Even if he had a choice, there was no chance he would risk upsetting the one who issued them.
Be observant and aware. The Inquisition put great faith in this asset. Their retrieval would be beneficial to all involved.
Inquisitor Katherine Beauchamp.
Hello everyone! I just wanted to take a quick moment to shout out a friend as thanks, not just for the help he has given me with my story, but for sending readers my way. TheChristianPrimarch and his story Shadows of the Dark City have been uploaded on both here and Ao3, so as a way of thanks, if you could read his story and send him some appreciation, I would be very thankful.
Until next time.