From Kaerls to Huscarls.

[aleifr]

Aleifr's fingers flexed a little as the shuttle began to rumble with the thrum of it's engines, digging into his harness as he felt the thing lift off the ground. He still wasn't used to this. Even after months of serving the Rout and seeing the wonders that they had at their disposal, riding in the belly of one of their flying ships still made him vaguely uneasy - at least until they'd hit the point where they were flying smoothly.

Once they were, he unbuckled the harness strapping him into his seat and made his way to the viewport at the back of the ship. Thick, white clouds filled up most of the view, but he could see little scraps of Fenris through the gaps. Mountains, ice, braces of pine trees and the endless expanse of Asaheim. As they climbed, the details grew harder to make out and his perpetual scowl deepened.

He was grateful to Jarl Ironwolf for the honor he'd given him - him and Aila both. He'd be a fucking idiot not to considering he's to be serving one of the Allfather's agents directly ... but it was strange to think that he might not see this place again. Their world. Their home. He didn't like that thought.

But his jarl had given him a task, and he'd see it through.

Comments

[letitallout]

"You're not Guardsmen. I'll not have you wandering about in mass-produced flak armor." Aila recognizes that as annoyance, but it's mild and seems to be directed at the situation rather than Aleifr. Frost waves a hand dismissively, consigning their Kaerl's armor to irrelevance, and ends the gesture by tapping a brooch affixed to her corset. "Bridge."

"Yes, Inquisitor?" The voice emanates from the jewelry piece, and Aila makes the mistake of glancing down at the source, immediately regretting the action when it strikes her just how low-cut the Inquisitor's top is, and just how perfectly she fills it out.

Well. Regret is the wrong word, but Aila certainly finds herself distracted.

"What's the nearest Forge World that doesn't supply Fenris primarily?" Frost asks, glancing at a servo skull that comes whirring into the room and glides over to hover in front of Aleifr at chest height.

"One moment...Voss Prime."

"Convenient." Frost's businesslike expression shifts into a real smile for a moment. "Call ahead, tell them to prepare two suits of Ignatus armor to the measurements I'll provide. Have Peri make the communique sufficiently bland and mechanical before you send it out."

"Yes, Inquisitor. Shall we use the Longhowl choir?"

"No, let's not impose on the Wolves' generosity any further. Ruth can handle it."

"As you wish."

"Out." Frost taps the brooch again and addresses Aleifr, pointing a warning finger at him. "Hold still."

Before he can acknowledge the order or request clarification, the lens set into one of the skull's eye sockets illuminates and a beam of red light plays over him, scanning slowly from his head to his feet. Aila suddenly finds herself distracted by something other than the Inquisitor's obvious assets, watching whatever's happening to Aleifr in silent but wide-eyed consternation.

[aleifr]

Aleifr had taken a step back when the servo-skull flew up to him. He doesn't like the things, he thinks they're fucking macabre, but he stays put when Frost orders him to do so ...

Though it isn't exactly easy for him. When the thing's big glass eye began to glow red he nearly drew his bolt pistol to defend himself, but the beam it fired at him didn't do anything - at least not that he could feel. Alarm lapses into confusion, then into curiosity as his tensed shoulders begin to relax.

He doesn't voice the question, but he's sure the Inquisitor heard it nonetheless - provided she didn't see it in his eyes: what is this?

[letitallout]

Aila relaxes as she sees Aleifr do so, and turns back to Frost just in time to catch the Inquisitor watching him with an intent, evaluating expression. It disappears into one of mild interest almost before Aila's even sure what she saw, and Frost cocks her head as she continues to look at Aleifr.

"It's a scanner. The Mechanicus will need your measurements to fit your new armor properly." The skull abandons Aleifr and floats over to Aila, though for the life of her she can't figure out how the Inquisitor's controlling it, and now Frost's looking at her. "Your turn."

Aleifr had the harder task, but even though she knows it won't hurt her, not shying away from the thing isn't what Aila would call easy, either. Her vision goes red as the light sweeps across her eyes, leaving an afterimage that seems darken the room, and Aila discovers she'd been holding her breath. Its job done, the skull floats over to Frost to hang by the side of her chair, its glassy false eyes black and staring.

"There, that's sorted," Frost says, satisfied, and picks up her goblet again. Aila thinks a drink sounds like a really good idea right about now, and Frost smirks at her over the rim of the glass, which Aila would find infuriating if it weren't coming from an Inquisitor who happens to be both her thane and gorgeous. Instead, she's going to call any kind of smile a win. If Frost has a reaction to that thought, it's hidden as she drinks.

[aleifr]

If she looks over to Aleifr, Aila'll see him watching her, even though he knows the beam is harmless.

Then, the skull flutters back to Frost's side and he's left with no other choice but to look at her. It's ... difficult not to appreciate the site of her - and the smirk playing across her lips - entirely more than is appropriate. He tries not to, but he's sure she's picked up some trace of it.

"What comes next?" He asks. "Once we've got this armor?"

In short, how may we serve you?

[letitallout]

Whatever the Inquisitor might be picking up, she's choosing not to reveal it, but Aila knows what she herself is thinking, which means Aleifr's probably thinking roughly the same thing unless this all has him staggered much worse than he's showing.

"You both have a great deal to learn about the galaxy," Frost replies, "and I'm sure Fenrisians appreciate that ignorance is as lethal as a bolter round."

Aila nods, because it's obviously true even if McCoy's impenetrable explanations hadn't already driven the point home. "How can we correct our ignorance, Inquisitor?"

Frost laughs, having an effect equally distracting and pleasant on the parts of her anatomy that Aila is currently trying to ignore. "That's a more complicated question than you realize...which is part of the problem, isn't it?" Her nails click as she drums her fingers against her glass. "Keep asking questions, even the complicated ones. ...Especially the complicated ones."

[aleifr]

Aleifr bows his head sightly. "We will."

Her laughter has the same effect on him - warm and heady.

"We know there's ... much outside of Fenris." He says, his awkward unfamiliarity with Low Gothic rearing it's head again. "We will recognize mistakes and be sure to correct them."

It's a fine line - acknowledging one's lack of knowledge without making yourself seem uselessly ignorant, but that's the line he's attempting to find in his tenuous grasp of Gothic.

Talking to McCoy proved that there's worlds of information they've got no clue about. He won't pretend otherwise because his thane deserves his complete honesty. But he'll never give her anything less than his utmost.

[letitallout]

Frost smiles again, the expression amused in a way Aila can't see a reason for. "No thane could ask for more."

She uncrosses her legs, leaning forward to rest her elbows on her knees, glass held loosely in both hands, a casual posture that surprises Aila even as it challenges her to keep her eyes where they should be.

"I'm sure you've talents beyond the martial, and I plan to make use of them," Frost says, not helping Aila's focus, especially when Frost pauses to shoot her an exasperated look before continuing, "but you're here because I want warriors. If there's anything you need to that end, tangible or intangible, you've only to tell me."

Since she hasn't been yelled at, Aila assumes the Inquisitor isn't too annoyed about her wandering thoughts, but she doesn't want to make a bad impression by being so distracted she can't do her job. "If there are others with you who know the best ways to fight the sorts of traitors or creatures we'll be facing, it would be good to speak with them," Aila says. See, she's paying attention.

"Logan." Frost nods. "Tell Henry to introduce you."

[aleifr]

He's grateful for the shift in topic. It gives him something to focus on and stops his mind from wandering away with the thoughts about just how the Inquisitor might best make use of him. Keeps his eyes where they're supposed to be instead of where they want to be.

"Logan." He nods, committing the name to memory. "We'll seek him out."

[letitallout]

"Have him focus on psykers and Genestealers. Nothing else we run into regularly is likely to give you much trouble." Frost looks smug about that, which in turn makes Aila feel smug.

"You will, however, find the Imperium beyond Fenris challenging in other ways," she continues, no longer smug and fixing each of them with her gaze in turn. "Your Inquisition credentials will help smooth over misunderstandings, but I expect you to be patient in the face of things that seem unreasonable or even insulting."

Aila thinks that's a very long-winded way to say don't embarrass me, but that's Frost's prerogative, and she bows her head to acknowledge the instructions. "Yes, Inquisitor."

[aleifr]

It is hard not to feel a little surge of pride at that acknowledgement, isn't it?

But when Frost grows serious, so does he. This was a conversation he'd been expecting. In his limited experience with offworlders, they've often demonstrated a love of making things more complicated than it needs to be.

But he has every intention of following her orders. She's his thane. He's here to serve her, not make her life harder.

"Yes, Inquisitor." He echoes.

[letitallout]

Frost nods, satisfied, and leans back in her chair. "You'll have a few days to settle in while we're en route to Voss. Get a tour, raid the armory, that sort of thing." She waves a hand to suggest she doesn't care what they do with their free time.

"Armory?" Aila echoes hopefully before she can catch herself, and Frost snorts.

"Are you sure you have room for anything else?" Frost asks rhetorically, looking Aila up and down. "But yes, armory. The Quartermaster will give you anything you want. Within reason. Ask Logan for ideas. If we don't have it aboard we'll pick it up from the Mechanicus."

[aleifr]

Offworlders haven't earned his unqualified confidence in much, but the technology they've built and the weapons they've forged? That has impressed him consistently, and the thought of having limitless access to it?

He likes that. He likes that quite a fucking bit judging by the grin peering out from under his thick beard.

"Thank you, Inquisitor."

[letitallout]

Frost looks ready to speak, then shakes her head and takes a sip of her drink instead. "I was about to say 'see if you still feel grateful when you're neck deep in Genestealers,' but then I remembered who I'm talking to."

She sighs, levity dying away, and Aila could swear the Inquisitor's solemnity is shading over into exhaustion. "You're agents of the Inquisition now. It's not always thrill-seeking nobles and iota psykers, and when it isn't, you'll need every advantage I can give you."

"Inquisitor, we--" About to reassure her that there's no threat they won't face for her, Aila stops when Frost holds up a hand.

"Do either of you have questions?" Frost changes the subject, and their audience seems to be drawing to an end.

[aleifr]

"No, my thane." Aleifr shakes his head. "Not now, at least."

That might change in the future - Aleifr has no way of knowing what tomorrow will hold considering he didn't even know what a genestealer was before an hour ago - but for the moment, he's satisfied.

He's got nothing to ask, but Aila might, so he turns to her.

[letitallout]

Aila shakes her head, but it's because she has so many questions she can't narrow it down and has no way to tell what's too trivial to bother the Inquisitor with.

"No, my lady, but...I don't know what I don't know." It's not a state of affairs she likes or plans to admit to anyone else, but their thane has a right to know their weaknesses as well as their strengths. Frost raises her eyebrows, looking faintly surprised but pleased, but doesn't explain why.

"Not a permanent state of affairs, Aila," she says, almost sounding friendly, but while Aila's trying to figure out what she did to deserve that and how she can repeat the performance as often as possible, Frost shifts back to a matter-of-fact demeanor. "That's all for now, but you may contact me at any time you feel it necessary."

Aila doesn't need to have it spelled out that they will not enjoy the resulting chat if Frost doesn't agree with the necessity. She bows in response to the dismissal, feeling a mixture of relief and disappointment, which she supposes makes sense, because Frost's presence is a mixture of intimidating and intoxicating. "Inquisitor."

[aleifr]

She isn't the only one feeling that little pang of disappointment that they won't get to linger in the Inquisitor's presence longer, but he serves at her pleasure. Aila bows her head, and so does he.

"Inquisitor."

As much as he'd like to stay, to look on her a little longer, he doesn't hesitate. He turns on his heels and exits the room, back into the unsettling hall outside her chambers that he's certain is bristling with hidden gunports.

The door closes behind them, and ... he's certain Frost can hear his thoughts still, but he lets out a sharp exhale nonetheless because he's fairly certain she'd hear him even in the furthest corner of the ship.

"Not what I expected."

But that's not a complaint. Furthest thing from it, for a whole host of reasons at that.

[letitallout]

"Not even a little," Aila agrees, sounding somewhat breathless as she runs a hand over her hair in a rare nervous gesture despite the fact none of it has escaped its braids. Aleifr's not the one whose thoughts Frost answered directly. "Let's--let's get somewhere that doesn't make my shoulder blades itch," she adds, looking around the corridor.

[aleifr]

No, he wasn't, and he'd be more amused by it if the Inquisitor's force of personality hadn't had a similar effect on him despite the fact that her attention had been on Aila.

"Agreed." He grunts, not waiting a moment longer to start towards the end of the hall - towards the lift that had brought them here ... but he stops in front of it, glancing over his shoulder with his hand hovering by the controls.

"McCoy said it needed our biometrics."

Would trying to operate the thing before they'd been scanned or whatever set off some sort of countermeasure?

[letitallout]

"Oh, damn." Aleifr has a good point. Any traps set in on the path to the Inquisitor's quarters would be lethal, at least if Aila were the one laying the ambush. "Best not risk it."

Of course, that leaves them trapped until they figure out what to do about it. Yes, Frost said they could come to her, but Aila has absolutely no intention of bothering the Inquisitor over a door. They can stay in the corridor until McCoy notices they're missing.

<Just get in the blasted lift>, Frost's voice echoes in Aila's head.

[aleifr]

He heard it too, judging by how fucking big his eyes have just gotten.

He pushes the button. Twice.

[letitallout]

Aila doesn't yelp, but it's a near thing, and when the elevator door opens, she's so close on Aleifr's heels her breath condenses on the blade of his axe.

She has no idea which deck to select once they're inside, but she's willing to deal with an awkward conversation wherever they end up, on the assumption that it's better to annoy absolutely anyone else on the ship than it is Frost. Aila's reaching for the bank of buttons to poke them at random when one lights up of its own accord and the lift begins to descend. She's not sure the Inquisitor did that, but she's not sure the Inquisitor didn't do that, and she stares up at Aleifr with wide, shocked eyes.

[aleifr]

He doesn't know what the fuck she's expecting him to do about it other than stare with equally wide-eyed shock. He actually takes an instinctive step back from the control panel as the elevator begins to move and fires a brief look in the direction of the Inquisitor's chambers.

He doesn't say anything, but the look on his face gets the message across clear enough: What in the fuck have they gotten themselves into?

It's got him on edge enough that he nearly grabs his axe when the doors to the lift open to reveal McCoy, waiting for them.

[letitallout]

Waiting though he may be, McCoy does not seem to have expected his charges to be quite so jumpy, and he takes an involuntary step back at Aleifr's reaction, looking back and forth between them.

"Emperor on Earth, what did she do?" he asks, pursing his lips.

Once it registers that McCoy's exasperation comes from his disapproval of whatever he's imagining, Aila leans in and hisses at him. "Be respectful."

Is he trying to get killed?

[aleifr]

Either he's got a death wish or he knows the Inquisitor better than they do and knows that what he's saying or thinking won't anger her. Considering he seems to have been with her a long time, Aleifr's inclined to think the latter.

The hand that's currently hovering about halfway to the hilt of his axe lowers onto Aila's shoulder to give her a reassuring squeeze - a gesture that's equal parts a reassurance and an urging to calm herself.

"The Inquisitor said you had more to show us." Aleifr says, regaining some of his own composure. "The armory, our quarters ..."

[letitallout]

Aila takes a deep breath and tries to relax. Nobody's dead, from accident, intruder control, or Inquisitorial wrath. Everything is fine.

"Of course the armory comes first," McCoy says dryly, recovering from his alarm once it's clear Aleifr isn't going to overreact and kill him. "But I'm afraid I have to alter the itinerary--we need to get you into the systems first."

"Biometrics," she says, the unfamiliar word even more awkward on her lips than the rest of Gothic.

"Biometrics," McCoy says with a nod. He gestures down the hallway and heads in that direction. "From 'biological,' of or relating to living organisms, and 'metric,' a system or standard of measurements."