The air is fresher here inside the Generatorium. A warm breeze drifts up from a massive shaft cut in to the center of the chamber. The ten meter wide hole in the floor is mirrored in the ceiling and a few errant wisps of the noxious gas slip upwards and are gone. Two identical naves carved out of the native mountain stone are set perpendicular to the main entrance doors.
Lucius fumbles in the shadows of a right hand naive. The shaft of light from his lamp pack chops back and forth wildly revealing the slab sides of STC style heavy generators set in uniform rows.
“Stay calm everyone, what you’re seeing isn’t real. Just hold it together until the visions stop.” Lazerus states calmly and firmly, holding his open palms out to the other members of the group.
Stig secures the door and seals it against the gas as best he can with remaining bits of first aid tape from the med kits.
Sila lays Kron down on the floor and removes his mask. She continues to hover over him occasionally pressing her palms to his face and chanting monastic imperial prayers.
Curtis checks her weapon and lamp pack then disappears into the left nave.
Lazerus leans in close to his prisoner. Tauron can smell the rank two week old sweat and rancid jungle mud on the big Arbiters clothes.
“Who are you and what are you doing here? You give me the impression that you aren’t with the rest.” He growls into the young mans face.
The youth, his eyes wide, with gas induced hysteria, stutters. “Firstly, I must mention, that your face appears to be melting. I don’t know if that’s something you commonly do, but it’s a but unnerving. Secondly, I am Tauron… Tauron Delphinius Forterex Mondus Ar’ Leigh. I was on a holiday cruise on one of my families lesser pleasure barges, when next I know, I’m covered in, what can only be described as a meat suit. Some foul servitor then came in and injected me with Emperor knows what, and stuck me in another room with all manner of unsavory looking instruments. I tried to reason with the thing as best as I could but it injected me again. I finally got fed up with the whole ordeal and walked away. Frankly, I was a bit surprised it worked. That brings us to our meeting and your rough handling of my person.” Tauron looks around and says, “Now that I’ve answered your questions I have a few of my own. By what right do you have to fetter me? By what right do you have to strike me, and lastly, WHO THE HELL ARE YOU AND WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON HERE?!?!”
“I am Lazerus Zuriel, Member of the Adeptus Arbites and Agent of the Imperial Inquisition.” Lazerus flashes his rosette. “The big guy next to me is Sgt. Stig, Imperial Guard and fellow member of the Inquisition.”
Stig pull spare clothes from his satchel and tosses them at Tauron. Te big man then removes his ruined chest armor and sets to work bandaging the well cooked flesh of his torso.
Tauron holds up a shirt much to large for him and then raises an eye brow at Lazerus as he jingles the arbite shackles at him.
Lazerus sneers at him. “What sort of proof do you have of any of this? For all I know you could be one of the pirates, rather likely given what we saw just before meeting you actually.” He says.
Tauron scowls. “If you are, who you say you are, then take me as your prisoner until we can get to a place where we can have both our identities proven. If proof is what you require.” He turns to Stig and says, “Thank you for this garb, it shall do well enough until I can get to mine own clothes.” Tauron raises his voice to be heard by the rest of the scattered group “Are we entirely sure that those monsters outside are dead; or at least close enough to let us be as we make good our escape? I saw something in the room I was in, that might be of some interest. A finely carved chest, it could contain some answers for why they were holding me, and what, in the Emperors name, is going on here.”
“We’ll see. Just let the cogboy do his thing for now.” Lazerus replies.
Tauron replies, “Yes, yes, agreed. In the meantime, let’s discuss the knee deep pool of blood we appear to be standing in. I suppose this sort of thing happens often to you, given your general lack of concern, but I am new to having insects crawl out of my finger nails.” He rolls over onto his belly making swimming motions, mumbling about prime apes being able to paddle effectively in a non-corrosive substance.
Curtis walks slowly out of the left naves shadows. She pauses by the pit and looks over its rim.
“Long way down there,” she spits a glob of phlegm into the shaft.
“There is a suddenly flash of blue lightning along the ceiling, the floor begins to vibrate and a loud electric hum fills the air. The lights, huge banks of silver cone shrouded floods, flicker on and everything is lost in white blindness for a moment. As everyone’s eyes adjust, Lucius saunters out from behind the row of generators.
“Behold, meatbags! The Omnissiah gifts you with illumination once again.” He bows mockingly.