NOTHING BESIDE REMAINS
++ ATRISIA ++
++ 0314 hours ++
The air between them was thick with as much contempt as there was tainted air, neither would stand down, that much was clear. Not until the sharp
click of a secured channel broke the moment.
A narrow pulse chimed inside Diocletian’s ear receiver. A message that the initiate had gone missing, and he had fallen into the names to investigate.
Silence returned to the glassed earth that they stood on, Dio rising from his position squatted by the box with a sigh of ever so slight annoyance.
Aymeric was still speaking; still circling the scent of imagined failure, grasping onto anything the Inquisitor would perceive as a foot up on the situation; but the words dulled into background noise. The Knight’s jaw flexed once. Subtle. Controlled. Irritation was a private thing, especially for his Order.
An Initiate.
Not a Knight.
An Initiate did not go missing. An Initiate was meant to be kept on a leash. That was the point.
“Shorn…” Diocletian said quietly into the Knight-only comm, eyes never leaving Aymeric.
“I don’t really have time for this.”
Of course he didn’t, but he could hear the tone in Tydeus’ voice, and knew that he instantly had the same thought; It wont go down well if the Initiate dies on the first mission to a wreck.
A muscle ticked in his cheek.
Aymeric’s predatory whisper cut in again, needling, invasive. His suggestion of Don’t let me keep you from your duty. Inquisitors. Damn them all to hell.
Diocletian inhaled slowly, the radioactive wind tugging at the hem of his cloak. He could feel the weight of the black housing behind the Inquisitor. The Imperial crest. The true objective.
The greater prize.
An Initiate was an investment. They were to a certain degree replaceable. Meant to break or sharpen under the pressures placed upon them during their training.
But discipline was not replaceable, not in this galaxy. If one of their own vanished while he stood idle in the mud, that rot would spread.
His thumb hovered over the comm toggle.
For a moment too long, he said nothing.
His orders were clear. The box that stood quietly and imposing nearby mattered.
But so did control.
“What was his last known position,” Diocletian replied at last, voice turning colder, like iron drawn across stone.
“I have the target,” A series of map indicators flashed upon his bracer. Diocletian was indeed close to the location that the initiate was last seen.
“I will forward the location to you now.” If the Initiate lived, he would attempt to return to formation and hopefully that meant reaching Diocletian’s own ping. If he was dead however…
A fractional pause. Another hidden flash of annoyance.
“I’ll leave it in the hands of the Inquisition team that has secured the site. I’ll go find the boy.” He cut the channel.
Only then did he look back to Aymeric fully.
“There is never failure,” he said evenly.
“Only filtration.”
His gaze drifted to the unearthed housing once more.
“You may keep your breadcrumbs, Fourth Brother.” He offered with a slight tilt of his head towards the artifact.
“I hope that the greater objective is obvious for both of us.”
Something in his posture had hardened as his lightsaber was pulled from his belt and his back turned on the Inquisitor and his group.
“Don’t drop it, tripping over your ambition Fourth Brother.” he added, almost absently.
Then he was away, his cloak swirling around him as he departed.
Tags:
Tydeus Shorn
Aymeric Prendergast
Sid Berik
Galen Dooku
Lareva
DT-1111
The Arkanian
Keldan Andro