Snippet #2114209

Several hours earlier...

"What you do mean you don't know where the Enginarium is? Are you not a member of this ship's crew, or are just completely daft about the layout of this ship? I shall make it simpler for you: have you seen any of this ship's tech-adepts, excluding myself of course?" Holt asked of a nervous looking laborer he'd found sleeping in a ventilation duct.

The worker's eyes darted around nervously before he answered, perhaps looking for an excuse to end the conversation, or perhaps planning an escape route if things got ugly.

"Ehh...dunno...Can't say I've seen one, and the boss just brought us on to get the ship ready to fly; I ain't never been on this ship before; I'm just one of the dock workers back at the station."

Holt's eyes narrowed.

This vessel ought to have no less than ten thousand crewmen. Must remain alert, circumstances are beyond the ordinary.

"Very well then. Go back to whatever it is you were supposed to be doing, and by that I mean what you were actually supposed to be doing."

"O-of course milord, right away!" said the worker, before darting off down the hall.

Damn layabouts. thought Holt.

In the corner of his eye, he noticed someone wearing the symbols of the Navis Nobilite—presumably the ship's Navigator—passing by.

"Excuse me, Navigator!" shouted Holt.

The figure stopped and turned.

"Oh I'm hardly in your way Tech-Priest." said Lady Yolande of House Visus, lacing the last two words with a fair amount of venom.

"What, I—I am afraid you've misunderstood me, I have a fairly urgent question which only a permanent crewmember—such as a Navigator—would be able to—" began the Tech-Priest, before being interrupted by a stern and unblinking glare.


"I was perfectly aware of that several seconds before you started talking. I'm just not interesting in answering inane questions from Osbourne's new lackeys. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall be on my way." said Yolande, turning to leave. Holt followed the Navigator.

"Navigator, I stated that this was an urgent matter, and it is indeed quite urgent; can you at least tell me where this ship's crew is?" said the Tech-Priest, struggling to keep up with the Navigator's long stride.

"You're looking at it, or rather a good part of it."

Holt shook his head. "That is not possible; a vessel of this size requires a standing crew of no less than 10,000 humans or about 16,000 servitors and a large detachment of Tech-Priests. I've yet to see any advanced servitors on board this ship, and every human I've spoken to seems to be part of a temporary maintenance crew. Elaborate please."

The Navigator shrugged. "For the most part the ship runs itself."

Holt's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'the ship runs itself?'"


"The weapons loaders are automated, and so are the trams and the lights and the plumbing and so on. Now if you excuse me, I'll take my leave of you know. It's been a real, genuine, pleasure." said the Navigator, before abruptly vanishing before the Tech-Priest's eyes. Holt stopped in his tracks.

"Bloody psykers." he muttered to no one in particular.