Post by Fauntleroy on Jan 6, 2016 14:45:27 GMT
“Acknowledgement: The Machine God is diligent in providing for those of his servants who treat Him with the proper diligence.”
Ravion was old enough and wise enough – comparatively speaking – to appreciate that drawing such an implied distinction between the human’s Emperor and his Machine God in front of one of the Ministorum’s soldiers was a calculated risk. Still, calculated risks were the type the Secutor found infinitely preferable. It was not that the aging Tech-Priest did not believe in the Emperor of Terra. Had she pressed him on the matter he would have – very slowly, just to be sure – invoked the terms of the Red Concordat and re-explained the widely held belief that He and the Omnissiah were one and the same. Still, Ravion was currently in no mood for a theological debate.
Musculature analysis programs hard-wired into the processing units of his mind detected the minor frown crossing the Battle Sister’s face. That did not corroborate with any pre-generated outcome to this verbal discourse he had come up with. Ravion had to physically resist letting out an agitated blurt of binary. Always, these humans failed to control their emotional…what was the word he had used before? He ran a quick search through conversational date-banks – leakage. The more he considered it the more appropriate a term it seemed.
The silence following his retort lasted for four point two seconds. Given the usual relations between the Mechanicus and the Ecclesiarchy the back-and-forth was practically rapid. Still, even that relatively brief pause was enough for logical sub-routines and pathways to reach their terminus. The Tech-Priest did not question Inquisitor Severine for not trusting him. He had made it plain he was here on Martian interests alone; to claim otherwise simply did not compute. However, it was highly likely that the Sororitas before him was considerably further in the human’s confidence. The pursuit and acquisition of knowledge and understanding was a vital tenant of the Machine God’s worship, after all, and doubly so when it consisted of assembling more information on what exactly their current mission was. And even Ravion, far more a machine than a man, could appreciate the pleasing irony in having a Battle Sister provide what he wanted.
“Admission,” a serpentine mechadendrite wormed its way out from beneath the red-robes of the tech-priest’s vestments as he spoke. He had not even consciously acknowledged it. The Tech-Priest’s triad of green ocular lenses remained focused on the female opposite him, even as the metal tendril worked on tightening a wall-mounted pipe that threatened to come loose. “The combat prowess you displayed upon the pirate moon was above recorded average for a member of the Imperial church. Judgement: Inquisitor Castella Severine of the Ordo Hereticus was perhaps not entirely unfounded in being accompanied by a member of your…order.”
He had mustered all the effort that remained in his flesh-starved body, but as synthetic as his tone was Ravion still could not disguise a degree of his dislike at the final words.
Ravion was old enough and wise enough – comparatively speaking – to appreciate that drawing such an implied distinction between the human’s Emperor and his Machine God in front of one of the Ministorum’s soldiers was a calculated risk. Still, calculated risks were the type the Secutor found infinitely preferable. It was not that the aging Tech-Priest did not believe in the Emperor of Terra. Had she pressed him on the matter he would have – very slowly, just to be sure – invoked the terms of the Red Concordat and re-explained the widely held belief that He and the Omnissiah were one and the same. Still, Ravion was currently in no mood for a theological debate.
Musculature analysis programs hard-wired into the processing units of his mind detected the minor frown crossing the Battle Sister’s face. That did not corroborate with any pre-generated outcome to this verbal discourse he had come up with. Ravion had to physically resist letting out an agitated blurt of binary. Always, these humans failed to control their emotional…what was the word he had used before? He ran a quick search through conversational date-banks – leakage. The more he considered it the more appropriate a term it seemed.
The silence following his retort lasted for four point two seconds. Given the usual relations between the Mechanicus and the Ecclesiarchy the back-and-forth was practically rapid. Still, even that relatively brief pause was enough for logical sub-routines and pathways to reach their terminus. The Tech-Priest did not question Inquisitor Severine for not trusting him. He had made it plain he was here on Martian interests alone; to claim otherwise simply did not compute. However, it was highly likely that the Sororitas before him was considerably further in the human’s confidence. The pursuit and acquisition of knowledge and understanding was a vital tenant of the Machine God’s worship, after all, and doubly so when it consisted of assembling more information on what exactly their current mission was. And even Ravion, far more a machine than a man, could appreciate the pleasing irony in having a Battle Sister provide what he wanted.
“Admission,” a serpentine mechadendrite wormed its way out from beneath the red-robes of the tech-priest’s vestments as he spoke. He had not even consciously acknowledged it. The Tech-Priest’s triad of green ocular lenses remained focused on the female opposite him, even as the metal tendril worked on tightening a wall-mounted pipe that threatened to come loose. “The combat prowess you displayed upon the pirate moon was above recorded average for a member of the Imperial church. Judgement: Inquisitor Castella Severine of the Ordo Hereticus was perhaps not entirely unfounded in being accompanied by a member of your…order.”
He had mustered all the effort that remained in his flesh-starved body, but as synthetic as his tone was Ravion still could not disguise a degree of his dislike at the final words.