Tod = Kai
Mewn = Laermont
Mewn = Laermont
The swaying of the ship was calming in a way, even though the ship was below the surface the currents were still giving the imitation of some motion from side to side. The young laicar sighed as he slowly got up out of his cot, and slipped on the first pieces of his armor. As his mind began to warm up and awaken from the fog of sleep. Yawning widely he managed to finish strapping on his leathers after a couple of minutes, which was much slower than usual. He frowned, he must have been getting rusty.
Kaizaell grabbed his rifle, slipped into his cloak and he was out the door. He had the grey colored side of the cloak out, since the standard green would stick out too much if something went wrong, and found his way to the mess hall. He took a different route today, comparing it to other routes based on predictability, efficiency and cover that could be found on the way. If anything happened he wanted to know the fastest and most secure ways to and from places aboard the ship.
Grabbing a tray he made his way to the cooks, who were mostly putting everything away for the evening. They saw him and one of them, a velen with grey and gold scales and a strange ridge of spines underneath his chin like some kind of spiky beard, came forwards with a prepared portion of the food for him. They’d always set aside food for the Night Shifters, who would only eat before and after their patrol.
“Thanks Gus,” The hazel eyed man said with a grin. “I appreciate you doing this.”
“It’s Augustus,” the velen said, with a hint of threat in his voice but a big smile and a sparkle in his eyes. “And you’re welcome, land-walker.”
Nodding his thanks the Sniper made his way towards one of the tables towards the back, one where his back could be to the wall and he could watch the door.
As he began eating the mash and hash he saw a familiar demvir walk in, the one from earlier that had been one of the first to sign up on this mission. The creature seemed to look around slightly, looking at each of the sailors for a moment before he spotted the laicar in the back. The tin-man began walking towards him and he sighed to himself.
Araevis, Kaizaell thought to himself dejectedly. Why do you test me so?
As was Laermont’s custom, he made it a point to speak to the people with whom he was going to work. He had made his way through most of the people who he’d likely be interacting with but had saved Kaizaell Songe for last. There was something tentative in how he’d watched the demvir, so as the inspector approached he did so with a cautious step and as relaxed and non-threatening a stance as he could take.
He stood easily just in front of the table at which Kaizaell sat and indicated his presence with a tilt of the head. His voice was rumbling deep but soothing in tone as he spoke. “Hello! I’d like to introduce myself. My name is Quaestor Laermont, of the Quaestorii Division of the Terminus Police. Might I ask your name? Also would it be possible for me to sit?”
Everything was kept neutral and calm, every gesture seemed calculated to be non-threatening and he waited patiently for permission to sit and interact more. His whole approach was to de-escalate any possible tension or a situation of prejudice.
Kaizaell stared at the metal man for a moment, chewing idly on his food, then motioned that he could sit. As he watched the Quaestor sit himself smoothly down, almost like he was a real person, he swallowed and got some more food on his fork and took another bite, chewing thoroughly to give him some time to think. He’d learned little about anything since he’d left Prendere, but he still had a job to report back to Traegon about any odd happenings that the other kingdoms got to and this could be a good way to get some information.
The young man had only had a few times to interact with the rust-buckets, and those had been vendors who acted like walking talking calculators and accountants so most of his interactions had been neither positive nor kind. Haggling with something tied directly into the local economy made getting a better price a bitch, to say it in the kindest words he could conceive.
Putting down the fork briefly and keeping a cautious air around him he extended his hand forwards.
“Where I come from we shake hands when you meet a new person,” his lips twisted slightly at calling the machine a person, but he did his best to hide it. “Names’ Kai. I’m not exactly sure what a ‘Quaestorii’ is, or what one would want with me, but I suppose we can spend some time getting to know each other before I start my shift.”
Especially if I’m going to be putting my life in the hands of a machine, the young Liacar thought to himself wryly.
Laermont registered all of the pauses and nuances in Kai’s expression and body language. It was his job to watch and learn from people. His face plate allowed him to disguise any errant expressions that might creep onto his face. Kai’s posture was tentative but also a little aggressive and there was an almost derisive twist to his lips. The inspector made his body utterly relaxed and easy as he extended his massive metallic hand. It was warm despite the metal appearance of it.
“Of course. I am glad to make your acquaintance, Kai. Put simply, the “Quaestorii” are the investigative branch of the police force. I don’t want anything specifically with you in my official capacity. If we are to be living and fighting alongside one another, I figure it’s a good plan to know my fellow crew mates.”
He took a pause and gathered his thoughts. “So tell me, Kai, what has brought you to this fight? For myself, it was my desire to extend my role with the police to protect the populace at large.”
Kaizaell felt the warmth of the strange machines’ hand as he shook it, once, twice in precise motions before retreating back to his side of the table. It felt odd, he’d always thought that their hands would be cold so the warmth, almost at the same temperature as a regular persons’ body, felt almost burning compared to what he’d expected.
The investigative branch, huh? The soldier thought to himself grimly. That could be useful.
“Part of the police?” the young man asked, a slight inquisitiveness pushing through the cautiousness. “Now that’s interesting. Lemme ask you a question, Laermont? Quaestor?”
The young man’s mind raced, he had so many questions to ask, this could be a great way to get information for back home, to send it back to the army he was still, technically, a part of.
“You ever heard of Tarikos village?” He gulped slightly, allowing a small tick of nervousness to take over for a moment. Why had he asked that? He could have asked any of the other myriad questions for his job, but at this moment he had asked about his home village.
The detective looked at Kai. Again his faceplate obscuring whatever was running through his head. His posture remained quiet and open, almost seeming to shrink into itself, as he minimized his gigantic build. “Tarikos Village you say. Perhaps there is a vague hint of memory. Why do you ask, Kai?”
Damnit, the young man thought to himself angrily. You have a job to do, focus Kai, focus.
While he waited for an answer, his eyeplate swept over the young man, registering all the minute shifts and gentle motions that most laicar made and that were essential for any member of the Quaestorii to be able to read. This was a young man who, at some level, was troubled. Laermont allowed himself to sit back, his prodigious mind storing information.
Kaizaell grimaced slightly, attempting to hide his responses behind a poker face. He’d almost missed the response from the machine. This one knew something, no doubt, but he wasn’t being as aggressive or hostile as he was used to. That was a common reaction the few times he’d mentioned the village to those who were more likely to know something.
“To answer your question,” the young man said, slowly collecting himself. “I knew someone from there, a girl. She, like the rest of the village, disappeared. No trace, no information. Poof, just gone in a moment, like morning mist under the sun.”
Improbably, somehow, Laermont gave off the sensation of a brow furrowed in thought. “That seems highly irregular to me. Definitely bizarre.”
The young man sighed, allowing himself to deflate slightly. He hadn’t lied, at least not technically. That still didn’t help him feel better sharing this with someone else he barely knew.
“I’m just looking for answers, trying to find my...” the young man paused for a moment, he’d almost said ‘my sister’ but he wasn’t quite sure how the officer across from him would take it, or even what he could do with that information. “My friend.”
Looking up at the metal man in front of him the hazel eyed soldier looked, hoping he was projecting a sense of calm, into what he hoped was the things’ eyes. Trying to see if the he would give anything away with minute reactions he may, or may not even, be able to read.
“That is why I’m fighting here.”
The detective nodded slowly, his massive metal frame seemingly gentle in its movements, despite the implied brutality of size and strength. “I can quite understand. So tell me, Kai, why has no one looked deeply into the situation of the village? Have you any idea?”
There was still a sense of discomfort radiating off of Kai as he sat, looking somewhat warily at the detective. In response, it was as if Laermont was absorbing the emotion and neutralizing it, as if he were a pillow that simply absorbed all of that discomfort and diffused it.
“I,” Kaizaell started, then hesitated for a moment and took a deep breath. Calm, he needed to remain calm. The machine was helping with that, strangely enough. He was getting used to the non-threatening aura the other creature seemed to be exuding. “I don’t know. People I ask about it that I thought would know either didn’t know anything or said they didn’t know anything.”
Nodding as he listened, Laermont’s voice was pensive and deep as he voiced what was running around in his head. “I feel that perhaps silence has been imposed on the people who are involved. It begs the question of who might have the power to force silence on those people.”
The young man looked over and saw Gus glaring at him, or at the unfinished plate of food. The man hated waste, especially of his ‘good’ cooking. Not that it wasn’t bad, hell some of the nuns at the orphanage made worse food than their surly cook on the Orca.
He’d let his mind wander again and he turned back to the Quaestor in front of him.
“I was hoping you may have had some info,” the young man sighed again, then shook his head. His tone turning acidic in disappointment “But I guess you’re like the others. No information you can share with a poor orphan.”
The metallic giant’s tone was gentle but resolute as he replied to Kai. “I may not have information, but I can find information. After all, my job is finding information. I know we’ve got more immediate issues, but if you’d like I can do some digging and try to find out what might have happened? Would you permit it?”
Dammit, he’d done it again. He looked at the man before him, then sighed again and began to continue eating his food. He only had about fifteen minutes left before his shift after all, and him being portrayed as the asshole wasn’t anything new to him.
Even if Kai tried to hide it, deep pain was evident in everything he did and had Laermont possessed a face that showed expression, he would have worn a compassionate countenance for the pain that this young man was clearly experiencing.
The young soldier sighed, then put down his utensils again and looked the mechanical man over again. Trying to see little tells in what the strangers’ body posture could tell him. Somehow, he’d get some information he needed, though he was frustrated at the fact that he wouldn’t be able to get access to it right away. Then again, sticking with this and getting to know his cohorts could not only keep him alive, but also give him access to information Captain Traegon wanted about the world outside Prendere, information him and people like him could provide.
And as long as he’s got Caniir under lock and key, Kaizaell thought to himself with resignation. I can’t just abandon her, and I still have my duty.
The hazel eyed man, keeping a level stare at the demvir across from him offered his hand again.
“I would truly appreciate it,” he said, an unintended weariness creeping into his voice. “I could always use more help finding out what happened there.”
Laermont nodded in the affirmative. “Of course. I understand and will do anything within my powers to find out what has occurred.”
The ship’s rocking motion was something to which Laermont was still adjusting. He was not a voyager naturally and so this was all outside of his usual remit. He changed tone as he spoke to Kai again. “It is sometimes not well to dwell on the negative. After all, we are in quite a situation as it is.”
He took a breath and there was more warmth in his tone when he spoke again. “Perhaps you can tell me what your rank in the military entails? I see that you carry a rifle. Are you a marksman?”
Putting people at ease was as much a part of what an investigator did as was harder interrogation. The old saying about honey catching more flies than vinegar was quite true when it came to gaining trust and winkling information out of potential perpetrators. In this case, it was simply to put Kai at his ease more.
“Yeah,” the young man said, looking the machine over one last time. “I was in the Prendere army, century two-thirteen. I made it through the Rangers course to become a Sniper.”
The words were bubbling out now, like an overheated pot on the stove.
“I’d say I’m a pretty decent marksman, all in all,” he huffed, taking a few moments to eat some more of the food on his plate. “Not the best, of course, but not the worst. Somewhere in the middle... I guess?”
There was the sense of a smile that radiated from Laermont. “I suspect you sell your skills short. You seem like the sort who does that. The modest are often talented beyond what they say.”
Looking over the machine he saw some expression of concern in his stance, or at least he thought it had. The faceplate made reading the Quaestor rather difficult, but he’d survived this long by being able to read people after all, though that had made it almost impossible for people to want to take him from the Orphanage, even if mother Krishka had let him leave. The young Sniper shook his head again, trying to shake the thoughts from his head.
“After I left them I sorta just... Wandered for a bit,” the young man said, trying to convey an open stance, since Laermont was talking to him openly and was willing to help he’d decided it was time he was honest as well. “Fell in with the wrong crowd, had to run, the usual song and dance.”
The quaestor stayed quiet for a minute, making it apparent that he was considering his answer. It wasn’t a good trait in a detective to lack a thoughful streak and Laermont was nothing if not a detective, down to his bio-metallic core. After his deliberation, he continued. “It seems that you’ve sorted yourself out, Kai. Whatever our past is, it is past. It may leave a mark on us but it does not have to determine what happens next.”
He allowed the young laicar to finish his food before he went on.
Taking the final mouthful of his food in his mouth the hazel eyed terran watched the other man closely, to see exactly what the mechanical man took away from the exchange. There were still things he hadn’t told him, and he wasn’t sure if this one could be fully trusted.
After all, trust was hard to earn and easy to burn.
Once Kai had finished he continued speaking. “I also see in you someone who has a sense of justice and makes whatever attempts possible to ensure that justice is done for others. You are much more than you first appear, of that I can be certain.”
The young Sniper stared at the mechanical man on the other side of the table. Memories flashed for a moment, and a wave of guilt swept over him. This man had such faith in others, it was almost shameful how he had acted towards the other man. He shook his head, a wry smile lighting his face and a dry laugh bubbling from his throat.
“I would say I’ve done better than some,” The hazel eyed soldier said, keeping his eyes locked on his compatriot. “But much worse than others. Unfortunately it’s not really about justice in my case, it’s more about answers.”
The young man sighed, deflating slightly as he sat before the other man.
“I just want to know why it happened, and if there was anything I could’ve done to stop it.”
“The answers” Laermont insisted “are undoubtedly out there but it’s obtaining them and the cost of doing so that are the two major challenges we face in this instance. I can’t guarantee this will be easy or safe for us, but I am certainly willing to pursue the investigation.”
Looking around, he realized that people were beginning to head for the doors, so he jerked his head in that direction. “Guess they are all done for the night. We should go, Kai.”
He stood up and extended his hand again. “It has been a pleasure to have met you. I have no doubt we will speak again soon. As soon as feasible, I will begin my inquiries. Please take care and I’ll see you tomorrow in all likelihood.”
The young soldier sighed, and slid his hand into his pocket for a moment. He felt the paper there, the note he’d made to himself, and slipped it into his hand before he stood up. Smiling the young man stepped forwards and took the machine’s hand and shook it vigorously.
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“You said you’re an investigator, right?” Kaizaell said quietly, though he kept a smile planted on his face. “You know how I said I’d fallen in with a rough crowd? I may still be stuck with that crowd.”
The paper stayed in the Quaestor’s hand as he withdrew his hand and stepped back, trying to act a little more relaxed now. He didn’t know who exactly Hastor had on the ship to keep an eye on him, he only hoped that they didn’t find anything about this suspicious.
Well he had two hopes actually.
The hazel eyed laicar hoped that the Quaestor wasn’t in the bag for the Black Cats.
“Yeah, I gotta get to shift,” the young man said louder this time. “See ya around, Laermont.”
Making his retreat from the room, he only hoped that the mechanical man could help him get out from under the Black Cats paw.
As Kai departed, Laermont unfolded his hand and looked at the paper that had been pressed there. It read “Hastor Kyrrhus, Dioecesis” and at the bottom was the name Tythus Midrash. The detective read them, nodded and popped the note in one of the pockets of his leather coat. He stood, thinking for a moment, before following Kai’s lead and striding out of the room.