Chapter 398 The Secret of the Spirit Tribe (Part 2)
The whispers continued, but a chorus of soft voices replaced the words and the laughter, and everyone's ears seemed to be covered with a high silky mist - even if the sound that passed through was hissing and distorted.
Valler had been listening for nearly half an hour, his casual interest turning into keen attention and soon into rapt attention.
Septimus looked at the apothecary more often than at the holographic projection, and he noticed that Valier's pale lips never stopped trembling as he tried to translate the unfamiliar words in his mind.
"grown ups--"
Septimus tried again, but was interrupted by a raised fist.
If he opens his mouth again, Valere will probably call.
"Dietrian."
After a few heartbeats, Varek spoke.
"What's wrong? Skinner, what do you hear in the Eldar's voice?"
"The game has changed, let me go to the ground of Nathan 6."
As soon as these words came out, Dietrian's spectacle lenses immediately rotated in a circle and refocused in the eye sockets.
"I will take negative action against procedures that completely violate Talos' orders and plans, or require you to submit sufficient reasons."
Valiel did not answer immediately, still listening distractedly to the Eldar language, which Septimus thought sounded like some kind of song, sung by people who hoped that no one would hear their voices.
It was great, but still gave him goosebumps.
"The game has changed."
A minute later, Valier repeated his previous words.
He turned around the simple podium and scanned everything with his cold blue eyes, but saw nothing.
Dietrian was indifferent to Valier's whispers in the distance.
"I reiterated my opinion. If you want to amend the clause, it becomes a requirement. Then provide sufficient reasons, otherwise you have no authority to issue an order."
Valier finally focused his eyes on something—specifically, Dietrian, who was wearing a red robe and had a skull face half hidden in the folds of his hood.
"Eldar——"
Valier said softly:
"They whispered their prophecies, and the Eighth Legion mercilessly bled them out over the following decades, do you understand? They didn't pursue us because Talos's mind screamed... They cursed us
of stupidity, they need to cut off the unnecessary future from the shackles of fate."
Dietrian made a false abort sound, equivalent to a contemptuous snort.
"That's enough. The alien's witchcraft is irrelevant, and the alien's superstition is irrelevant. The order I received is the most important thing."
Valer's eyes turned to the distance again, and he listened to the aliens singing in their whispers.
"That's it."
The apothecary blinked and stared at the bishop again.
"You don't understand, they're trying to prevent some future... something that's not yet to come, where Talos is leading the Eighth Legion in a crusade against their dying species, and they're singing songs like children praying.
, I hope God has mercy on them, do you hear that? Are you listening to what I say?"
Septimus took a few steps back to make way for the apothecary.
Valier walked over and stared at the sitting bishop. Septimus had never seen Valier with such a high temper.
The pharmacist was describing something almost through gritted teeth.
"They're out to kill a future that scares them! Something they won't allow to happen! It's a huge risk for them, so they corner us and hunt us down using ships piloted by ghosts!
That's how they want Talos dead."
Dietrian repeated the negative voice.
"Everything you say is purely speculation based on a foreign language."
"What if they're right? The Prophets of the Eighth Legion will rise up at the end of the Dark Millennium and bleed the Eldar far more than their dwindling population can handle! Damn it, what do you think about anything other than the job?
Are you blind to everything, can’t you hear what I say? Listen to me, you heretical sorcerers, in the future they saw, the prophets destroyed their craft world!”
Dietrian had to admit that he was struggling to make a decision.
Talos had asked him to take a series of actions to get both the people and the cargo off the ship safely, but the pharmacist came up with a persuasive reason - even if it couldn't be boiled down to practicality and possibility.
"To deal with the odds of this ship surviving a direct engagement with an enemy fleet requires the kind of calculations that few biological minds can comprehend, and suffice it to say, you understand, our odds are slim."
If he could smile genuinely, rather than as a natural byproduct of a metal skull face, Dietrian might be grinning at that moment.
He was extremely proud of his ability to understate things.
But Valier was neither impressed nor amused.
"Adjust the gears that squeak behind your eyes. If the Eldar are so afraid of this prophecy coming true, that means Talos could possibly survive this war, and we have a chance... My brother's fate is anything but.
To die miserably in this worthless world, I was going to give him a chance and let him take it."
Dietrian's cold appearance didn't even change.
"Talos's last order is still valid. This container is now the gene-seed repository of more than a hundred fallen soldiers of the Eighth Legion. This genetic material must reach the Great Eye. This is my oath to Talos, and I swear my promise.
.”
This last sentence made him very uncomfortable.
"You should run, but I won't."
Valier turned to Septimus.
"No. 7."
"grown ups?"
"Prepare your gunboats and take me off Naisen Six."
Just when Valier announced that he was leaving the shuttle, Octavia was doing something she had not dared to do for a long time - using her talent to try to peer into the outline of the subspace.
It took her a long time to calm her nerves before she closed her eyes and untied her headscarf, risking being seen by unwanted presence.
This chapter is not over yet, please click on the next page to continue reading! The rest does not take much time, in fact it is almost very easy - similar to the feeling of falling halfway down a difficult climb.
Octavia, once the Eurydice of her family, may not have been born with the blood of a powerful navigator, but her experience aboard the temperamental but determined ship of the Eighth Legion honed the skills she possesses.
As she stared into the endless black tide, she couldn't help but wonder where she and Septimus would go, and how they would escape the fate of entering the Eye of Terror.
This thought seemed less pessimistic than before, and she didn't know why.
Seeing the Sea of Souls was as simple as opening her third eye, and while she knew some Navigators would allow spirits to enter the Warp, she didn't need to.
Her father could only see the warp with three eyes open, she never knew why, they all had their own personal habits.
When she saw it, she just watched the ebb and flow of the half-formed nothingness with mysterious eyes, shapeless but like a tide, shapeless but like a snake.
Shamans and witches from the primitive era of ancient Terra would think this was no different from their rituals of peering into the mysterious hell.
But as she searched, she couldn't help but hold her breath each time, until her beating heart and aching lungs forced her to breathe again.
She realizes that on some logical level she is projecting sights through the evil Warp, perhaps even projecting fragments of consciousness into space - but Octavia is unconcerned with this concept.
What matters is what she can find with her second sight.
Not so long ago, they had run again and again through the Eldar blockade, following the path of least resistance through the tide, she guiding the Cursed Echo as best she could, riding the waves.
She has been caught between two states, looking at the broken subspace and feeling her hands on her swollen belly.
Now free from the stress of navigating the warp, she was free to gaze upon it.
Octavia stared harder, her eyes reaching deeper, past the black shadows beyond the light of the star torch, searching for any source of light in the conflicting clouds.
For the first time she began to see what Talos had done.
Demonic substances collided before her eyes, torn apart by savage wounds and interpenetrating each other.
She could hear her name in the stormy waves, a whisper, a scream, a wail...
Octavia pulled herself back and opened her eyes.
The Warp is always changing, and it was reactivated within hours of the first scream.
Now, however, she's preparing to guide a strange ship into unnavigable territory.
The navigator replaced her bandana, tied back her ponytail, and stretched on the uncomfortable throne, trying to relieve the pressure on her back.
She thought about the attendants standing outside the door. They must be crowded in the narrow corridor.
Thinking of Septimus in a distant manner is a painful thing in itself.
What's more, no matter how reluctant she was to admit it, even to herself - she wanted Septimus to be with her.
How stupid to fall in love in the darkest galaxy, in the darkest corner.
As Octavia shifted in her seat, her eyes widened with sudden shock at the news she had just received.
This message was sent by Septimus. It was short, but it made her heart drop to hell.
Then, she slowly put a hand on her belly and felt the new life moving inside her body.