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I was dealing with an assassin from the Venenum temple, and their knowledge of poisons was unrivalled throughout the Imperium; it was very likely that Feuilt would have no clue what it was at all.

Feuilt nodded back, then turned to Olinthre. "So major now, will you tell me why you are here as well?"

Olinthre was leaning against the wall with his arms folded over his chest, and he pushed himself off.

"Yes, I will Feuilt, something has come to my interest recently," Olinthre said, and he held up the print off of the retinal scans to the medicae.

My eyes widened; what was he doing? Why was he telling this to Feuilt?

Feuilt's brow furrowed in bemusement. "Where are you getting at major?"

"This, my friend," said Olinthre, "is a print off from the records of people who have used their retinal ID to access Taryst's condo over the past month."

The medicae frowned deeply; still confused, he slipped on a pair of spectacles and took the sheet, studying it intently.

"Yes, it is," agreed Feuilt. "But what does this have to do with me?"

My eyes widened as it suddenly hit me. "Because you've been going up there to treat Taryst's injured psyker!" I blurted out without thinking.

Both Feuilt's and Olinthre's attention snapped at me; their expressions were both amazed and confused.

"H-how, did you know that?" stammered Feuilt.

I winced, internally cursing my idiocy, then my face went bright red, and I scratched the back of my head. "Uhm, a lucky guess, I guess."

It was a terrible lie, I know.

But I barely held back a sigh of relief as Olinthre returned his suspicious gaze to the bemused medicae. "So you admit it then? As the records show, you have been visiting Taryst far more than normal over the last month."

It was Feuilt's turn to sigh. "Yes, yes, I do admit to it Olinthre as you know, I go up once a week to give Taryst his weekly juvenant treatment, but..."

"But this time was different?" I asked and immediately regretted it as Olinthre's attention briefly snapped straight at me again; damn it! Why the hell did I always feel so inclined to finish people's sentences!

"But...Yes, this was different, young man; Taryst took me through that large door in his quarters; in there he is keeping an extremely injured psyker, a woman by the name of Karmen Kons, he told me to treat her and to keep it a secret."

Olinthre looked at the medicae with extreme incredulity and said, "but! But! How! Not even I'm allowed through that frigging door, and why wasn't I told what happened to her!"

Feuilt raised his hands in a protective motion as it seemed for a second there that Olinthre would strike the medicae. "You must understand major, I was not informed of such information, but it does not end there."

"And what the hell does 'It does not end there,' mean?" yelled Olinthre.

The medicae didn't flinch, facing down the angry ex-guardsman with admiral courage. "When I was first taken to her, she was unconscious due to head trauma, but I was ordered to keep her in a coma via a drug named Diporisan, which needed to be injected every two days; that is why my retinal scan is logged in at every second day."

"I don't understand," I said, interrupting anything that Olinthre was to say. "Why didn't you give Taryst some syringes so he could do it himself?"

But what I was really thinking was why Taryst would want to keep his little psyker in a coma, and the reason why I asked such a small question was that I wanted to take Olinthre's thoughts away from it.

Perhaps the psyker had found something? Or did something wrong during the raid on the Twilight bar?

Feuilt shrugged, "I don't know, but I am guessing that he suspected no one but himself would be able to see the records, so my visitations would not arouse suspicion."

That made my eyes widen; if this was such a secret, how did Edracian's spy find out? The spy who seemingly worked for Glaitis, or was there someone else in Taryst's organisation?

"Well, they have now," growled Olinthre.

Feuilt turned back to Olinthre. "So I am curious, how is it, then you got your hands on those records major?"

"That is none of your business, medicae."

"Alright then," sighed Feuilt. "I don't know how you got your hands on that information, but I can still tell Taryst that you have it, so do not intend to get angry at me again, Olinthre!"

A wolfish, predatory grin spread across Olinthre's face. "Well, it doesn't matter if you do, medical, as the three of us are about to say a little hello to the good rogue trader right now, isn't that right, Attelus?"

"Yes, that's right," I agreed, and I paused as I realised. "Wait, what do you mean 'us three'?" I asked.

"Because Attelus Kaltos, because good medicae Feuilt here will be accompanying us, isn't that right Feuilt?"

Feuilt's face grimaced in utter rage, but it was quickly gone, turning into a look of defeat. "Yes, yes, I will be accompanying you, major."

Olinthre grinned that grin again. "Good!" he said brightly. "Let's go then, shall we?"



We silently rode the elevator up to Taryst's penthouse, standing with Olinthre and Feuilt on my flanks.

Earlier on our walk from the medicae, I asked Feuilt with as much casual interest I could feign. If he had seen anything behind that door, anything of any importance, but the only answer I got was that the door actually led to an elevator that went down into an underground bunker that he hadn't been shown much of the shelter at all.

Perhaps he was lying, but I didn't want to push the medicae for more information with Olinthre around; the ex-guardsman's suspicion of me was high enough as it was already.

With the thought of the ex-guardsman, I could not help but steal a sidelong glance at Olinthre, my jaw twitching slightly.

Perhaps I should've pointed out the pure hypocrisy of Olinthre making poor Feuilt come with us, Feuilt who in all essence which had done nothing wrong he was just following orders.

But me being the complete coward I am, my mouth kept shut, not wishing to force any confrontation with Olinthre, I needed to stay on his right side, him being my only real ally in this idiotic endeavour.

Well, how "true" Olinthre was as an ally has yet to be elaborated on. I would be keeping an eye on the major after his tirade with poor Feuilt. I was beginning to wonder about his mental health.

I then looked sidelong to the medical, who stood as emotionless as he was motionless. He hadn't complained about the dangerous position he was in, but life was unfair, as I had said earlier. I couldn't help but respect the medicae for his apparent stoicism.

I sighed slightly and reached into the pocket of my flak jacket for a smoke while tapping the tip of my shoe against the floor, very much unlike the good medicae my nerves were really getting to me the entire ride I fidgeted in one way or another while wholly ignoring the annoyed looks from the Major and medicae.

The attempt to retrieve my Lhos was far harder than it should've been, my shaking fingers fumbling to find the little ceramic case that caused me to curse a couple of times under my breath.

Finally, I managed to tug out the case and opened it with a flick of a thumb, then began to search for my igniter.

"You aren't going to smoke, that are you?" growled Olinthre at my back which made me flinch in fright.

"And I hope that you are aware of the dangers to your health of smoking Lho," said Feuilt. "Or of the potential effects for both Olinthre and myself when you smoke in such proximity to us in here-."

"Yeah, yeah," I interrupted while hurriedly slipping my Lhos away, really not wanting to hear much more of the medicae's tirade.

"Are you a bit nervous, Attelus?" asked Feuilt.

"Yeah, just a little," I said. "We are about to confront the leader of a huge multi-planet business franchise who has a huge army at his beck and call and may or may not already want us dead and may or may not has lost his mind, so I am a little bit nervous, yes."

Feuilt smiled. "I understand we all have our ways of dealing with our anxiety Attelus, you, I see, deal by fidgeting and by displaying extreme sarcasm, which is not uncommon for others your age and the smoking of Lho, of course."

I sighed again. "So, are we a psychologist now as well?"

Feuilt smiled wider. "Why I've dabbled, although I doubt it would take a genius to figure that out."

"Of course you have," I said, "and what is your way of dealing with anxiety medicae?"

"My faith," he answered without hesitation.

My jaw set at the medicae's response, first frigging Olinthre now Feuilt both being idiotic believers in 'faith', a smile spread across my face, and I looked up at the cameras looming over us and said;

"Whatever happens, happens."

Before either Olinthre or Feuilt could respond, the elevator had stopped its ascent, and again the automated voice announced in its typical monotone "300th story; Master Taryst's living quarters restricted access retinal scan required."

Wordlessly Olinthre unslung his lasgun approached the retinal scanner, and placed his face into the machine. At the same time, I still watched the cameras with great interest, wondering whether Taryst was watching us ascend to usurp him.

I drew my autopistol from my chest holster, racked the slide and turned to Feuilt. "Stay behind us, Feuilt."

The medicae's exterior of apathy was gone, his nod of reply very nervous.

"Employee 106; identified as Toron Olinthre," said the computer, "Access granted."

We all quickly stepped into the sides of the elevator in case of any immediate retaliatory gunfire from Taryst's bodyguards.

But there was nothing.

I glanced questionably at Olinthre, who, with a similar quizzical look, nodded back and together with guns raised, we slipped out of the elevator and into the corridor beyond.



What we saw as we stepped into that red, overly pretentious hallway made my jaw drop and Olinthre bark out in disbelief.

She stood at the end, kneeling over both Taryst's bodyguards' corpses, seemingly studying them intently.

"You!" roared the ex-guardsman. "How in the Emperor's name did you get up here?"

Elandria was suddenly on her feet, and she eyed each of us blankly. "I was allowed," she answered.

Both Olinthre and I had here wholly covered, but I could not help but feel a little unnerved; what was she doing here? Was this Glaitis making her move?

"Did you kill those men?" demanded Olinthre, his tone betraying his nervousness.

Slowly, Elandria looked over her shoulder at the two dead men behind her as though only just realising they were there. "No," she answered. "They were both already dead when I arrived."

Scarily without a shadow of a doubt, I knew she was telling the truth, and that made me all the more nervous.

Suddenly, Elandria grinned her evil grin from nowhere, and her attention snapped straight to me.

"This is it, Attelus Kaltos," she said.

"This is it for what, El?" I asked.

"Finally, we will see who is truly the better of us," Elandria said as she slowly almost theatrically drew Setsukia and Katrina.

I kept my pistol firmly trained on her. "I don't want to fight you, Elandria."

"Oh, but you do," she laughed darkly. "You are just as interested as I am in seeing who is the superior one; I know it."

"Glaitis has ordered you to kill me, hasn't she?" I asked.

"That is mamzel Glaitis Attelus Kaltos, and yes, the master did order your death, so I will not be holding back."

"Well, I wouldn't have it any other way," I said and opened fire.

Almost faster than the eye could follow, she dodged the bullet swaying sidewards, and her somersault carried her lithe body out of the trajectory of both my next shots.

Olinthre had no time to react before she had crossed the distance between us, and me in vain emptied my pistol at her acrobatic form.

She
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