Reflected in the polished green eye lenses of the death’s
head mask, the elderly astropath stood before the chaplain with a look of
concern etched upon his weathered features. Avram stared down at him, silently,
for several long moments before he spoke, his voice issuing from the vox-grille
behind the mouth of the skull.
“Are you sure that was the entire message?” the chaplain
asked, his black ceramite-clad arms folded across his chestplate.
“Yes, chaplain,” the old man replied.
“I see. And the captain will know what this message means?”
he continued, his skepticism unable to be masked even through the flat tone of
the vox.
“Apparently.”
“Then thank you for your service, Calvin. In the Emperor’s
name,” Avram replied, making the sign of the Aquila across his chest. The
Astropath bowed his balding head as he returned the gesture, before shuffling
back down the corridor.
Avram opened an encrypted vox channel to the captain after
the Astropath was out of sight. “Captain Darius?”
“Yes, chaplain?” the captain’s voice came over the vox,
layered with static.
“The message was exactly as you expected, captain. However,
there are rumors of xenos activity in the area,” Avram replied.
“As expected. Does the astropath suspect our mission?”
“No,” Avram replied. Under the helm, he was smiling.
