Elta Kesstel wrote:
As she took notice of just how packed the establishment was, the chitinous woman seemed to chew at nothingness in her mouth in unconcealed nervousness before looking back over at how shy the long eared fellow seemed next to her, which calmed her some. "Flattery a bit, sir. But kind of you. My shell has seen better days, though. The luster has been scuffed off a bit lately." She lets her eyes wander to the Imperials, taking particular interest in their drawn restraint in this environment. It was a sort of regal civility she recognized... the kind worn in the presence of your enemies in diplomatic settings. But they did seem well disciplined, so her curiosity drew her out. "Your composure is impeccable. You must serve a profound cause. It blazes in your eyes nearly as much as it grinds at your teeth. What are these heretics you refer to?"
Guards instinctively raised their lasguns as the xenos approached only to be dismissed by a single raised hand, the subtle clatter of knife and fork as Aleksandr enjoyed a sumptuous meal complete with a glass of chilled ruby red amasec had come to pause before this interruption. His steel gaze locked upon the being before him, a cold calculating and tactical glance as if peering into her motives and assessing her with a scrutiny and thoroughness only a battle-hardened military man would wield.
" Gentlemen, we have in our presence a particularly rare specimen of Xeno, you bring forth fond memories of the Damocles crusade... in the... Imperial dialect, we refer to your kind as Vespids. Though I have never happened upon a morph of your variety, please excuse the dour mannerisms of my guardsmen, their orders are to shoot first and ask questions later on account of the xenos species in our universe being spectacularly more violent than those found within this reach... please feel free to join us, you have my sanction "
Aleksandr added, lighting his smoking pipe and setting his boots upon the table, continuing to survey the being before him.
" I am Lord General Aleksandr Von Drakenfell, commander of the Emperor's Battlegroup Arpat, I am responsible for strategic initiatives to ensure the pacification of this sector and in establishing imperial control on worlds that have not yet been inhabited. We belong to the Imperium of Man in our universe if you will, I understand this place is sort of a rift where different kin mingle, a curious oddity, one that I not only tolerate but enjoy at times on account of good food and good drink... ahem... some point earlier you inquired what a heretic is... allow me to demonstrate. "
The lord general would slowly brandish a menacing looking weapon, tarnished from countless years of service across a myriad campaigns across countless worlds, the lord general traced the razor sharp teeth, moving them as they sounded a subtle click.
" A heretic is whatever finds itself at the other end of this, and it is one of my favorites, I call it Ryland after an honored paragon of the schola progenium. I hope this knowledge serves you well and I hope this will be the last of your inquiries into heretics, I forgive your curiosity on account of unfamiliarity but typically the matter of heretics does not beg questions, it demands extermination.
Aleksandr put the chainsword away,
" Ours is not a cause really, it is an inexorable march whose first step was cast the moment the Emperor laid eyes upon the skies above Terra. It is born of necessity in a universe where the grim darkness of war is the only reality and the law is to kill or be killed. "
Pausing, her meal gripped tightly between her lips, she watches the unrestrained display of authority and confidence keenly. After considering her position there, she slowly pulls back the slab of meat from her mouth and sets it down on her plate. The area around where her fangs had latched barely resembles meat anymore, blackened and liquefied for the most part, her venom having reduced it to what she'd been drinking down, and she lifts her plate, taking the offer to join, though she's still not sure if it had been meant as a platitude or a sincere offer, with as much threat loomed around it. But that threat enticed her. She seated herself opposite him, the clarity of the danger far preferable to the ambient anxiety the broader expanse of the bar. "So... If I glean what you seem to imply, You know it when you see it... and it's best not to know any more than that. Is that a fair read, Lord General? Vespid... is not a name I've known. Xenos... I also outside my experience. With your blessing, I don't suppose you'd find me ill company if I asked for greater insight into those two words, with heresy being a topic more demanding of action than conversation?" Something about the transparency of the man drew her into this. He was clearly the most likely genuine threat in the room, but his discipline made even his threat calm her anxieties, and her hand ceased its drumming by the time she'd gotten situated across from him.
Mikazuki just raised an eyebrow, as you do. Seeing as how one man would blatantly ignore the no weapons rule, so too would he—as he reached through his sling and set his handgun on the table he was sitting at, disconnected from Barbatos—and even with his left arm unmoving, he didn't seem to care as he disassembled that gun, and worked on cleaning it.
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