Sammael99
First Post
The Stranger (Part 1)
They had finished their meal. They congratulated Lang’Fat for his cooking and the quality of the service, and decided to look for a place to have a drink. After a five minute walk, they found a nice busy place called the « Korona ».
The ceiling was low and the place very wide. There were many round tables laid out between the pillars and the bar proper was down at one end. The place was real busy. A group of three musicians played modernised version of popular folk songs for the discerning Byzantium Secundus crowd. Countless customers were purchasing drinks at the bar and the extravagantly-dressed waitresses had trouble navigating amongst the tables.
Luckily for them, just when they arrived, a group of people freed a table. The three veterans quickly sat down to take possession of their new territory. No sooner had they taken their coats off that a waitress came to jot down their order. They asked for beer.
« Civilization at last !», Lilwenn thought. She loved those places full of life and took a great pleasure in simply observing the “crowd”. People were much more interesting and accessible when they lowered their guards after a few drinks. In fact, this was the kind of place where she used to trade all kinds of information when she was in her teens...
While she was looking at the various customers of the « Korona », she spotted an odd one, sitting not far from one of the outside windows. The man suddenly stood up and practically ran to the lavatories.
« Have you seen this weird guy ? », Lilwenn asked her friends.
They had no time to respond. The waitress was coming back with her drinks and she utttered a sudden scream. The three large classes shattered on the floor. The young woman’s eyes were staring straight at the entrance. Three dark silhouettes came forward. The musicians suddenly stopped playing, and a tense silence replace the exuberant agitation...
The three newcomers were obviously not there to have a good time. Two of them were inquisitors dressed in there characteristic long black robes. There hoods were drawn over their faces and their eyes could barely be seen in the low light. They stood on both sides of an eerie looking third man. He was dressed in a dark uniform, his head was shaved and he had a stared disturbingly. A black tattoo of an Orthodox cross was burned on his left cheek. Both inquisitors were armed with ready-for-use flameguns, and a few women at the back of the Corona fainted at the sight.
Time seemed to have stopped. The man with the strange tattoo turned his head towards the back of the room and, with infinite slowness, he stared at each and every customer present. His eyes did not blink and their blankness suggested his mind was elsewhere... One would have heard a pin drop. Everyone was staring at the odd character. After having obserced all the people present in this fashion, his eyes cleared somewhat, and he turned in deference to one of the inquisitors : “It is not here, Brother”, he said in a precise manner.
A sigh of relief was shared by all the people in the wrowd. They didn’t really understand what had happened, but everyone knew this was serious stuff. The three intruders walked back to the exit and out of the « Korona ». A few seconds later, the owner made a sign and the musicians picked up their playing, somewhat lacking in assurance.
It took a few minutes for the atmosphere to relax. Wild theories about the inquisitorial presence were thrown about.
- I wonder what this all means, Buenaventura said pensively.
- All I know, Lilwenn added, is that the shaved guy was a Penitent.
- A Penitent ? Lamar enquired.
- You know the Church considers Psychics to be dangerous heretics. Some choose to submit to the will of the Patriarch. They follow a special training program, some say it’s closer to brainwashing, and then they are considered Penitents, Psychics in the service of the Church. The Orthodox cross on the cheek, that’s a dead giveaway !
- Wait a second, Lilwenn, Buenaventura interjected. On Stigmata, there were several Psychics in the Manifest Light unit. They weren’t hunted down by the Church, they even worked hand to hand with some priests !
- You know what, Lieut... err, Buenaventura, I can’t imagine the Orthodox guys landing on Stigmata to put « Manifest Light » on trial, Lamar said.
- Maybe they had a special exemption, Lilwenn said in an amused voice.
- Faith exemptions, now that’s a concept ! You know what, Lilwenn, the League should sell these, I’m sure it’s a good business, Lamar added, laughing.
All three burst out laughing, letting the tension out. But Lilwenn’s smile suddenly froze on her face. The lavatory door had just opened and the head of the man she’d seen sprint in there emerged and scanned the room. The man then got out and quickly walked towards the entrance of the « Korona ».
- That guy there. He’s the weird guy who hid in the bog just before the inquisitors and the Penitent appeared. I’m sure he’s the guy they’re looking for.
The man eased past their table and they all three had a good look at him. Lilwenn et Lamar didn’t spot anything special, but Buenaventura spotted a detail that made his blood freeze in his veins, a detail that sent him two years back to one of the most difficult moments of the first few months of his command...
Salmen Ryan is sitting in his cell, both hands manacled and chained to the wall. In front of him stands Lieutenant Buenaventura, flanked by two soldiers armed with military grade flameguns.
- I told I was OK, Lieutenant. I’ve been here twelve days, you can’t do that to me...
- You spent three days and three nights in the jungle in enemy territory, Ryan. You’re quarantined just like anyone who’s likely to have been infected...
- But it’s friggin’ stupid ! I’d be a lot more useful fighting than rotting in this stinkhole !
- I agree. That’s why I have decided to put you through a little test. Some guys told me it worked sometimes...
Lt. Buenaventura extracts a large green plant from a military bag. It’s been recently uprooted from the jungle bushes. It’s visibly healthy, verdant and full of life. Sap can be seen slowly dripping along the leaves. The Lieutenant takes his metal lighter out of his pocket and slowly approaches it from one of the leaves. It starts to burn.
- Aaah, don’t do that, Lieutenant, it’s useless, Ryan says, still chained.
His face has grown a little pale. The Lieutenant burns a second leaf, then a third. Ryan starts loosing his cool.
- Stop it, it’s inhuman !
The Lieutenant takes a bottle of lighter fluid out of his bag, and spreads it over the plant. It catches fire instantly, the leaves curling under the flames. Lt. Buenaventura’s face is grave, his hand is solidly resting on his heavy blaster. He looks at Ryan straight in the eye.
Ryan thrashes about, trying to pull his arms free of the manacled. At the base of his neck, a strange pulsation lifts his skin repeatedly. Suddenly, his whole face explodes in a shower of bone, brain and dripping mucus. A green and prehensile tentacle has emerged from his neck. His arms grow flabby and easily slide out of the manacles...
But ex-private Ryan really doesn’t have a chance. The very second his head blows up, two flameguns and a heavy blaster move in action. His squirming body is scorched by flames and pierced by laser impacts. A horrible smoke fills the cell, smelling halfway between charred flesh and forest fire. After a couple of jerks, the body curls upon itself and slowly burns to oblivion.
The lieutenant shook his head. He had just noticed on the man walking past him the same strange pulsation at the base of the neck. His command instinct took over in an instant, naturally :
« Lilwenn, we follow the guy, it’s a symbiot. Lamar, you pay and meet up with us in the street. »
They had finished their meal. They congratulated Lang’Fat for his cooking and the quality of the service, and decided to look for a place to have a drink. After a five minute walk, they found a nice busy place called the « Korona ».
The ceiling was low and the place very wide. There were many round tables laid out between the pillars and the bar proper was down at one end. The place was real busy. A group of three musicians played modernised version of popular folk songs for the discerning Byzantium Secundus crowd. Countless customers were purchasing drinks at the bar and the extravagantly-dressed waitresses had trouble navigating amongst the tables.
Luckily for them, just when they arrived, a group of people freed a table. The three veterans quickly sat down to take possession of their new territory. No sooner had they taken their coats off that a waitress came to jot down their order. They asked for beer.
« Civilization at last !», Lilwenn thought. She loved those places full of life and took a great pleasure in simply observing the “crowd”. People were much more interesting and accessible when they lowered their guards after a few drinks. In fact, this was the kind of place where she used to trade all kinds of information when she was in her teens...
While she was looking at the various customers of the « Korona », she spotted an odd one, sitting not far from one of the outside windows. The man suddenly stood up and practically ran to the lavatories.
« Have you seen this weird guy ? », Lilwenn asked her friends.
They had no time to respond. The waitress was coming back with her drinks and she utttered a sudden scream. The three large classes shattered on the floor. The young woman’s eyes were staring straight at the entrance. Three dark silhouettes came forward. The musicians suddenly stopped playing, and a tense silence replace the exuberant agitation...
The three newcomers were obviously not there to have a good time. Two of them were inquisitors dressed in there characteristic long black robes. There hoods were drawn over their faces and their eyes could barely be seen in the low light. They stood on both sides of an eerie looking third man. He was dressed in a dark uniform, his head was shaved and he had a stared disturbingly. A black tattoo of an Orthodox cross was burned on his left cheek. Both inquisitors were armed with ready-for-use flameguns, and a few women at the back of the Corona fainted at the sight.
Time seemed to have stopped. The man with the strange tattoo turned his head towards the back of the room and, with infinite slowness, he stared at each and every customer present. His eyes did not blink and their blankness suggested his mind was elsewhere... One would have heard a pin drop. Everyone was staring at the odd character. After having obserced all the people present in this fashion, his eyes cleared somewhat, and he turned in deference to one of the inquisitors : “It is not here, Brother”, he said in a precise manner.
A sigh of relief was shared by all the people in the wrowd. They didn’t really understand what had happened, but everyone knew this was serious stuff. The three intruders walked back to the exit and out of the « Korona ». A few seconds later, the owner made a sign and the musicians picked up their playing, somewhat lacking in assurance.
It took a few minutes for the atmosphere to relax. Wild theories about the inquisitorial presence were thrown about.
- I wonder what this all means, Buenaventura said pensively.
- All I know, Lilwenn added, is that the shaved guy was a Penitent.
- A Penitent ? Lamar enquired.
- You know the Church considers Psychics to be dangerous heretics. Some choose to submit to the will of the Patriarch. They follow a special training program, some say it’s closer to brainwashing, and then they are considered Penitents, Psychics in the service of the Church. The Orthodox cross on the cheek, that’s a dead giveaway !
- Wait a second, Lilwenn, Buenaventura interjected. On Stigmata, there were several Psychics in the Manifest Light unit. They weren’t hunted down by the Church, they even worked hand to hand with some priests !
- You know what, Lieut... err, Buenaventura, I can’t imagine the Orthodox guys landing on Stigmata to put « Manifest Light » on trial, Lamar said.
- Maybe they had a special exemption, Lilwenn said in an amused voice.
- Faith exemptions, now that’s a concept ! You know what, Lilwenn, the League should sell these, I’m sure it’s a good business, Lamar added, laughing.
All three burst out laughing, letting the tension out. But Lilwenn’s smile suddenly froze on her face. The lavatory door had just opened and the head of the man she’d seen sprint in there emerged and scanned the room. The man then got out and quickly walked towards the entrance of the « Korona ».
- That guy there. He’s the weird guy who hid in the bog just before the inquisitors and the Penitent appeared. I’m sure he’s the guy they’re looking for.
The man eased past their table and they all three had a good look at him. Lilwenn et Lamar didn’t spot anything special, but Buenaventura spotted a detail that made his blood freeze in his veins, a detail that sent him two years back to one of the most difficult moments of the first few months of his command...
Salmen Ryan is sitting in his cell, both hands manacled and chained to the wall. In front of him stands Lieutenant Buenaventura, flanked by two soldiers armed with military grade flameguns.
- I told I was OK, Lieutenant. I’ve been here twelve days, you can’t do that to me...
- You spent three days and three nights in the jungle in enemy territory, Ryan. You’re quarantined just like anyone who’s likely to have been infected...
- But it’s friggin’ stupid ! I’d be a lot more useful fighting than rotting in this stinkhole !
- I agree. That’s why I have decided to put you through a little test. Some guys told me it worked sometimes...
Lt. Buenaventura extracts a large green plant from a military bag. It’s been recently uprooted from the jungle bushes. It’s visibly healthy, verdant and full of life. Sap can be seen slowly dripping along the leaves. The Lieutenant takes his metal lighter out of his pocket and slowly approaches it from one of the leaves. It starts to burn.
- Aaah, don’t do that, Lieutenant, it’s useless, Ryan says, still chained.
His face has grown a little pale. The Lieutenant burns a second leaf, then a third. Ryan starts loosing his cool.
- Stop it, it’s inhuman !
The Lieutenant takes a bottle of lighter fluid out of his bag, and spreads it over the plant. It catches fire instantly, the leaves curling under the flames. Lt. Buenaventura’s face is grave, his hand is solidly resting on his heavy blaster. He looks at Ryan straight in the eye.
Ryan thrashes about, trying to pull his arms free of the manacled. At the base of his neck, a strange pulsation lifts his skin repeatedly. Suddenly, his whole face explodes in a shower of bone, brain and dripping mucus. A green and prehensile tentacle has emerged from his neck. His arms grow flabby and easily slide out of the manacles...
But ex-private Ryan really doesn’t have a chance. The very second his head blows up, two flameguns and a heavy blaster move in action. His squirming body is scorched by flames and pierced by laser impacts. A horrible smoke fills the cell, smelling halfway between charred flesh and forest fire. After a couple of jerks, the body curls upon itself and slowly burns to oblivion.
The lieutenant shook his head. He had just noticed on the man walking past him the same strange pulsation at the base of the neck. His command instinct took over in an instant, naturally :
« Lilwenn, we follow the guy, it’s a symbiot. Lamar, you pay and meet up with us in the street. »
