CANDIDATE RECORD
DATE: 0023045.M42
From the desk of Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne.
Citizen Identification Number: 31448-323-MCI2337
Name: Explorator Tristan Holt
First: Tristan MI: N/A Last: Holt
M: ✓ F:
Nicknames/Aliases: N/A
Age: 42 chronologically, exact biological age unknown due to extensive warp travel, but estimated between 34 and 38.
Birthplace (City): Nova Forge
Birthplace (Planet): Eridani Regius (Forge World)
Birthplace (Sector): Eridani, Subsector Epsilon
Birthplace (Segmentum): Segmentum Solar
Current Residence (Address): N/A, The explorator fleet he was attached to is currently passing through the Tiān (Pronounced "T N", sector name originates from the dead language of the ancient pre-interstellar human civilization of "Qina") Beta sector in the Segmentum Obscurus
Current Residence (City): N/A
Current Residence (Planet): N/A
Current Residence (System): N/A
Current Residence (Sub-Sector): N/A
Current Residence (Sector): N/A
Current Residence (Segmentum): N/A
Blood Type: N/A (Autosanguine, medicae records indicate it was originally O+)
Height: 1.76 Meters
Weight: 87.5 Kilograms (implants and mechadendrites included)
Eye Color: Luminescent Blue (Formerly Hazel)
Hair Color: Black
Physical Appearance: By the standards of Tech Priests, Holt has a fairly "clean", almost approachable appearance. His various implants are well maintained, clean, and polished, and, for the most part, of relatively compact and symmetrical design and consistently high quality. This strongly contrasts with the typical appearance of a Adept, who is generally composed first of rather crude implants, acquiring augmentics of progressively higher quality over the years as they rise through the ranks of the Machine Cult. Of course, on Forge Worlds which produce large quantities of cybernetics, particularly ones like Eridani Regius which have the necessarily technological base and proximity to population and military centers to specialize further into high-grade augmentics, this is not necessarily the case.
-Full List of Implants as of 045.M42
-- Mechanicus Respirator unit: This implant is standard for all tech priests, and generally replaces the lower jaw and part of the neck with a mechanical breathing apparatus. In Holt's case, the implant resembles a fairly simple-though not normally removable-breathing mask with a pair of metallic cylinders slightly protruding outwards from the lower corners.
-- Mechadendrite Manipulator Tendrils (x2): A pair of small mechadendrite tentacles mounted on opposite sides of his lower back. While they do not have the weight bearing capacity to be used for lifting like larger shoulder mounted manipulators, the tendrils can be used to perform fine maintenance on certain devices, and can mount several lightweight MIU controlled tools.
-- Blood replaced with autosanguine, some bone marrow replaced with support augmentics that regulate the artificial blood.
-- Logis Implant with Calculus Logi Upgrade: A series of micro cogitators implanted integrated into the brain which improves reasoning, memory, and arithmetic skills. This particular design is entirely contained inside of the skull, and does not require external housing. While it is frequently used by Imperial Nobles, Rogue Traders, and other powerful individuals outside of the Cult Mechanicus who wish to augment their mental capacity, it is produced on Eridani Regius, and it can consequently be found in use of a number of the local Tech-Priests.
-- Mechanicus Cyber-mantle: A series of slightly protruding metallic vertebra replacements and mechadendrite anchors mounted on the back. Also houses the potentia coil.
-- Mechanicus Potentia Coil: An energy storage device that works in tandem with various mechanicus augmentics for equally diverse purposes. While some Tech-Priests are unfortunate enough to have salvaged vehicle engines bolted to their backs, Holt's coil is a series of compact high-density energy cells attached to the sides of the cyber-mantle's vertebra.
-- Bionic Eyes: Holt's augmentic eyes are of the type that remains entirely in the eye-socket; rather than appearing to be a pair of goggles, they consist of a pair of eyes which glow a faint blue. The device's pictors are linked to the memory banks of Holt's cranial implants, allowing for him to save any visual data-either stills or moving pics-with a thought. The vision is slightly better than an augmented human's vision, and they can see well even in extremely low light, but otherwise, they are like ordinary eyes in most respects.
-- Medicae Mechadendrite: A shoulder mounted medicae tool with 6 (six) mounts for injector pistons, and a chaniscalpel.
-- Mechanicus Electro-Graft: An implanted data port at the base of the tech priest's neck that allows neural interfacing with MIU compatible devices.
-- Mechanicus Electo Inductors: A pair of metal grafts and implanted circuity on Holt's palms which run up his arms to draw power to and from the Potentia Coil, allowing the Tech-Priest to give or draw power from various electronic devices, in addition to several other more esoteric uses.
-- Implanted Vox Caster: A device incorporated into the Tech Priest's respirator unit which allows for verbal communication. The voice produced by the device is not perfect; there is a dull metallic edge to it at all times, though it becomes especially noticeable when the Tech-Priest raises his voice to high volumes.
-- Implanted Micro Bead: A communication implant in the ears and respirator unit that serves the same function as an ordinary micro-bead implant.
Unlike many Tech-Priests, Holt chooses to grow his hair, which he usually gathers into a short ponytail at the back of his head. While he was rarely exposed to genuine sunlight as a child, Holt's skin is fairly tan. Diligent adherence to medical care routines-ostensibly for the purpose of his studies in the field of medicae-has faded all but the most recent of the Tech-Priest's surgical scars.
Psyker (Check One) Y: N: ✓
If Yes What Category: Upsilon (slightly lower than that of a baseline human but well above the "untouchable" psi-rating of a blank.)
Psychological Profile: See Personality
Family (Alive or Deceased):
--Cynthia Holt: [Younger sister, Alive Age 26, Adeptus Mechanicus Artisan, Forge World Eridani Regius]
--Roland Holt: [Older brother, deceased, former Generatorium menial worker, Aged 23. Cause of death was blunt force trauma to the head inflicted by a berserk servitor. His remains were deemed too damaged to be recycled for any useful purposes, and were promptly incinerated.]
--Charles Holt: [Older Brother. Died four months after birth due to improper medicae treatment for a minor viral infection. His remains were harvested for nutrients and other useful materials then promptly incinerated.]
--Ramius Holt : [Father, Age 58, Alive Water Recycling Plant Foreman, Eridani Regius. Ramius Holt was paralyzed from the waist down in a workplace accident in 6534040.M42, and would have been euthanized and converted into a servitor had his two surviving children not intervened on his behalf to get him the necessary augmentics to continue working.]
--Annarette Holt: [Mother, Age 57, hab block cleaning and maintenance manager]
Personal Funds/ Monetary Assets: Adeptus Mechanicus Per Diem consisting of 65 Throne Gelts per week plus coverage for all medicae expenses incurred, personal monetary account of 783 Throne Gelts (accumulated savings from unspent Per Diem over nearly 10 years)
Current Proffession (If Applicable): Adepteus Mechanicus Tech Priest, Explorator, practicing Chiurgeon/medicae
Skills and Apptitudes: Like all Tech Priests, Tristan is intimately familiar with the use and operation of machines, though his knowledge is significantly broader than most tech priests of his rank and age. While he is not a geneator, he has extensive knowledge of the practical side of the medicae field-particularly knowledge of augmentics installation rites-as well as a dedicated medicae mechadendrite. While all of Tristan's implants are of the high quality expected of members of Eridani Regius' tech-priesthood, his bionic eyes are exceptionally well crafted, and, combined with years of experience with firearms during his time with the Explorator fleet, give him an extremely accurate shot. Tristan has excellent reasoning skills, which he demonstrated extensively in his journeys as an Explorator.
Personal History: See History
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Tristan Holt
"I have braved the farthest reaches of this galaxy for the Quest, and I have succeeded where so many others failed, yet they claim my methods are wanting?"
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The Imperium of Man
a character in “Secret Heroes of the Imperium”, as played by Archereon
Description
Personality
Psychological Profile: Despite being a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, Holt does not have the demeanor of the typical logical-minded and borderline emotionless Tech-Priest, which is par for the course for an Explorator. Such individuals often have to rely on intuitive thinking or good luck in their pursuit of the quest for knowledge, and while this mindset often sets Explorators at odds with other members of the Mechanicus, who often accuse them of having "no heads for theological matters" it also tends to produce Tech-Priests who are significantly better at cooperating and communicating with those outside of the Tech-Priesthood.
As stated before, Tristan Holt is moderately obsessed with hygiene, and, by the standards of Tech Priests, personal appearance it would seem, since many of his implants appear to have been chosen just as much for their aesthetic value as their functionality. While Holt maintains the external attitude of the ideal Tech-Priest, unhindered by emotion and intuition, it is very apparent that some of his actions over the course of his career were not entirely driven by purely rational thought, starting with his motivation for joining the Tech-Priesthood, which seems to have been as much if not more a desire to escape the mundane life of an menial he would have lived had he not been inducted into the tech-priesthood, or, in a more favorable assessment of his character, a desire to make an appreciable positive difference for his homeworld. His later decision to join the ranks of the Explorators rather than becoming an Artisan like most tech-priests of Eridani Regius or pursuing the path of a Geneator-a field which he had demonstrated a great deal of affinity with-seems to have been motivated by similar sentiments.
Intelligence Quotient: 157- Subject has several cranial implants which augment his arithmetic and linguistic skills. This naturally skews a standard IQ test a great deal. The exact value of his original tested IQ was not released by the Adeptus Mechanicus, and Inquisitorial agents opted not to press the issue when Mechanicus representatives proved uncooperative.
Neural Wavelength Frequency: 6- Subject appears to have a weaker than average psionic presence (equivalent to Upsilon on the standard scale), and has demonstrated a minor degree of resistance to psychic phenomena and powers. While it has not been confirmed, it stands to reason that Holt would react less strongly to the aura of a Blank or Pariah.
Spacial Reasoning Score: 123%- subject has extensive cortex augmentations, as is standard for members of the Adeptus Mechanicus, which boosts his capacity for arithmetic and such well beyond what he was naturally capable of.
Linguistic Apptitude: 74%- Subject can speak and where applicable write in Low-Gothic, Techna-lingua, and Explorator Binary fluently. Has a passing knowledge of High-Gothic, though not enough to fluently speak in it.
History
6024011.M42 (February 26th by the classical terran calender): Tristan Holt is born in the medicae facilities of Nova Forge's hab block to Cynthia and Ramius Holt. He was their second child. Regrettably, the family's third child perished shortly after birth.
6504017.M42: In 017.M42, at 6 years old, Tristan was a young boy on Eridani Regius. Unlike Roland before him, who had already begun working with his father, Tristan had performed admirably in the rudimentary education in the ways of the Machine Cult non-Tech Priests born on forge worlds generally receive. He, along with various other children from his hab-block with similarly high scores were placed in a more advanced training program used to indoctrinate the more skilled menials of the Forge World and select Tech-Priest initiates among the menial population.
4000019.M42: After a long series of faith, reasoning, and aptitude tests, the Tech-Priests of Eridani Regius had narrowed down their choice of prospective initiates to a number within their quota for the year. All the prospective first-year initiates were transferred into the Tech-Priest Initiate Hab-Blocks and given basic training in the ways of the Machine Cult. In this process those who are found wanting in their abilities within a few years were permitted to return to civilian life, as it would be impractical to mind-wipe or execute them all, but those beyond a strictly defined "point of no return" who receive the same judgement are euthanized and converted into servitors and/or servo skulls, which frequently are assigned to initiates who fare better in their trials.
5902025.M42: The prospective initiates of Holt's year were given their final trials. Holt passed his test with little trouble, though many of his fellow initiates were found wanting and consequently euthanized and recycled. While he was rightfully proud of this achievement, several statements on record indicate that the deaths of so many of his fellow initiates—despite being typical of the Adeptus Mechanicus' recruitment methods—upset him a great deal more than he admitted.
4993037.M42: After completing his studies in the ways of the tech-priesthood and being formally granted the title of Tech Priest, Holt petitioned into the Exploration Fleet of Arch-Magos Explorator Soranus Tullian, which had recently returned to Mars to offload artefacts, recovered archeotech, minor or duplicate STC fragments,* and other physical discoveries of note.
6304040.M42: The Adeptus Mechanicus Light Cruiser Purity Of Steel was conducting a fairly routine sweep of local starship debris for valuable technological salvage when it came under attack by a large number of raider class warships, at the time believed to be pirates eager for the priceless Mechanicus technology and Archeotech they believed could be found aboard. The raiders deployed boarding shuttles, and attempted to capture the ship. Holt's actions were instrumental in saving the ship from capture or destruction, and the medicae duties he performed in the aftermath of the incident undoubtedly saved dozens of lives. Due to damages suffered in battle, the Purity of Steel was forced to remain at [NAVIGATIONAL DATA EXPUNGED] longer than anticipated.
6989041.M42: Holt participated in an exploratory sweep of the catacombs of a recently excavated ruins of a city belonging to a previously unknown-though presumably human due to archeological evidence that indicated the ruins' hab block was designed for humans-culture on [NAVIGATIONAL DATA EXPUNGED]. While traversing a particularly wide tunnel, the group came under attack from a large group of raiders who had been waiting in ambush for the Tech-Priests. Interestingly, the raiders were armed with bolters. The expedition's leader, Magos-Explorator Carmine, along with a third of the Adepts and nearly all of the combat servitor escort they had brought along were killed. Worse still, a stray bolt round detonation collapsed the segment of the tunnel behind the expedition, trapping them underground in the ruins unmapped and unlit segments. Holt took charge of the situation, and suggested an immediate retreat. With no other option, the expedition party fled further into the ruins.
6995041.M42: Over the next few days, the expedition was attacked nine times by the raiders. Shortly after the third attack, Holt came the conclusion that their unknown enemies were attempting to herd the party towards one of the many unexplored catacombs, which in context seemed to imply that the raiders were trying to get the Tech-Priests to retrieve or activate some piece of ancient technology for them before killing the expedition party. Holt sent a pictor servitor ahead to scout the area while leading the party in the opposite direction, hoping to draw the attention of their attackers for long enough to discern precisely what it was that the raiders were after. Simultaneously, he dispatched several of the junior Tech-Priests into the ruins to search for operable communication lines that could be used to vox the Adepts still on the surface.
6002042.M42: Contact was restablished with the surface, though the news from above was rather grim. The excavation site had been attacked and all but wiped out by unknown assailants in power armor, later determined to be traitor space marines of the Alpha Legion, who had presumably followed the Explorators to [DATA EXPUNGED] and sponsored the raiders in order to lead the Tech-Priests to the [REDACTED] site.
6003042.M42: The Expedition discovered an STC device sealed in a stasis field in a previously unexplored room. As per Mechanicus protocol, the team immediately began the process of retrieving the device. Anticipating that their attackers would make an attempt to seize the device, Holt voxxed to the Purity, and requested that the ship prepare for orbital strikes should it become necessary to prevent the device from falling into the wrong hands.
* While the fleet failed to recover any notable fragments that were not duplicates of known STCs, in the event that such a discovery had occurred, part of the fleet would have returned to Mars immediately.
So begins...
Tristan Holt's Story
- Seen 52 Times • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
On a whim, Holt decided to leave the sterile comfort of his cabin to familiarize himself with the Inquisitor's Ship, which was, from the brief look he got of it on the way to his room, unlike anything he'd seen in his life. While Mechanicus ships generally have crews composed mostly of servitors, such ships still require thousands if not tens of thousands of the slave-cyborgs to function, and from what Holt could see, the only servitors on the ship were part of the crews prepping the ship for launch.
When pressed, the various workers could come up for no explanation for why the ship's crew was seemingly absent, and the one presumably permanent crewmember the Tech-Priest could find-a Navigator-claimed that the ship carried out many of it's functions on its own. Recalling the senior Tech-Priests' lessons on the priceless but borderline-heretekal archeotech cogitator systems that could be used to automate many functions aboard a ship that would normally require human laborers or advanced servitors, Holt resolved to inspect the ship's cogitator core for such systems when he got a chance.
When pressed, the various workers could come up for no explanation for why the ship's crew was seemingly absent, and the one presumably permanent crewmember the Tech-Priest could find-a Navigator-claimed that the ship carried out many of it's functions on its own. Recalling the senior Tech-Priests' lessons on the priceless but borderline-heretekal archeotech cogitator systems that could be used to automate many functions aboard a ship that would normally require human laborers or advanced servitors, Holt resolved to inspect the ship's cogitator core for such systems when he got a chance.
Killing time was never a problem for Varn. While he had been on Sheol XVI, when you wouldn't be doing backbreaking labor, you would be staring at your prison cell walls, therefore the prisoners had developed ingenious manners for communication, entertainment and strange ways for falling quickly asleep. Varn, still certain that he was back on the prison planet, began to bang on the pipe lines, using morse codes to see if there were anyone else listening. No answer. Odd. Normally there's hundreds of conversations going on, he thought as he banged out the code again. Still no answer.
He then turned to the hidden stash of books and started to skim through the chapters, quickly reminding himself of his former education and speciality. Time quickly started to fade away as the pages turned though eventually he looked up and felt panic rise. He had missed the dining bell by fifteen minutes!
Quickly hiding his books he dashed out of his chamber and ran down the hallway and stopped. This isn't Sheol, he thought as he looked around in bewilderment. This isn't Sheol? he thought as he looked around at the steel walls. Then it occurred to him, I'm with the Inquisitor. It's another dream, he thought as he started to walk through the halls, looking every now and then down the other desserted hallway. There really weren't many other workers on the ship.
"Oi! Mate!" he then called out as he saw someone at the end of the hallway. For all he knew it could be a servitor, though at the moment, Varn would rather talk with a mindless drone than being by himself in this maze (He had never felt comfortable being alone, especially since he has grown up on a Hive, been on a Penal Planet and in a Penal Legion). "Mate... You got a stick?" Varn called as he got closer, hoping that he had a Lho-stick, however he had no idea that he was approaching a cogboy of the Omnissiah.
He then turned to the hidden stash of books and started to skim through the chapters, quickly reminding himself of his former education and speciality. Time quickly started to fade away as the pages turned though eventually he looked up and felt panic rise. He had missed the dining bell by fifteen minutes!
Quickly hiding his books he dashed out of his chamber and ran down the hallway and stopped. This isn't Sheol, he thought as he looked around in bewilderment. This isn't Sheol? he thought as he looked around at the steel walls. Then it occurred to him, I'm with the Inquisitor. It's another dream, he thought as he started to walk through the halls, looking every now and then down the other desserted hallway. There really weren't many other workers on the ship.
"Oi! Mate!" he then called out as he saw someone at the end of the hallway. For all he knew it could be a servitor, though at the moment, Varn would rather talk with a mindless drone than being by himself in this maze (He had never felt comfortable being alone, especially since he has grown up on a Hive, been on a Penal Planet and in a Penal Legion). "Mate... You got a stick?" Varn called as he got closer, hoping that he had a Lho-stick, however he had no idea that he was approaching a cogboy of the Omnissiah.
For lack of any more important tasks at hand, and unable to find Osbourne or any other person who could give him directions to the Enginarium was—or better yet give him a map of the ship—Holt had spent the past half hour methodically searching the ship one hallway at a time for the cogitator core. If the rough map of the hallways he'd had his servo-skull transcribe onto a data-slate was accurate, there was only a few places left in the ship that could plausibly be the Enginarium, and at his current pace, it would take less than a quarter hour to get there.
Holt rounded a curve in the hallway, and heard someone shout.
"Oi! Mate!
The tech-priest looked up and saw a tall, unkempt looking man walking towards him.
"Mate...You got a stick?"
Holt rolled his eyes, although the augmentics' uniform glow would make it quite difficult to notice for someone more than a few feet away.
"Stick; shorthand for a Lho-Leaf Tube, a common recreational narcotic, particularly among lower class laborers and soldiers in the Imperial Guard."
The tech-priest shook his head.
"I am not nor have I ever been in possession of one, and considering the damage the smoke and residue from a Lho-Leaf Tube can cause to local air purifiers I wouldn't provide you with one if I did, much less use it myself."
"Not that I could even I wanted to." added Holt, tapping the metallic mask of his respirator unit. Simultaneously, he noticed the man's penal legion brands, the deep imprints in his neck from a collar of some sorts, the numerous signs of healed chemical burns on his arms, and the distinctive odor of industrial chemicals that permeated the air around the man.
Not one of the workers, collar was removed, and workers didn't appear press-ganged...Has worked with chemicals fairly recently, and probably for quite a while before given scarring...facial brands combined collar marks combined with supplementary information naturally indicate penal legion background. thought Holt.
"Hmm...Am I correct in assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Holt rounded a curve in the hallway, and heard someone shout.
"Oi! Mate!
The tech-priest looked up and saw a tall, unkempt looking man walking towards him.
"Mate...You got a stick?"
Holt rolled his eyes, although the augmentics' uniform glow would make it quite difficult to notice for someone more than a few feet away.
"Stick; shorthand for a Lho-Leaf Tube, a common recreational narcotic, particularly among lower class laborers and soldiers in the Imperial Guard."
The tech-priest shook his head.
"I am not nor have I ever been in possession of one, and considering the damage the smoke and residue from a Lho-Leaf Tube can cause to local air purifiers I wouldn't provide you with one if I did, much less use it myself."
"Not that I could even I wanted to." added Holt, tapping the metallic mask of his respirator unit. Simultaneously, he noticed the man's penal legion brands, the deep imprints in his neck from a collar of some sorts, the numerous signs of healed chemical burns on his arms, and the distinctive odor of industrial chemicals that permeated the air around the man.
Not one of the workers, collar was removed, and workers didn't appear press-ganged...Has worked with chemicals fairly recently, and probably for quite a while before given scarring...facial brands combined collar marks combined with supplementary information naturally indicate penal legion background. thought Holt.
"Hmm...Am I correct in assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Oh frak, Varn's lips unconsciously moving to his thoughts. Varn had been on a ship five times in his entire life, and not until now had he ever really talked to an adept of Omnissiah, for he had mainly been in a prison cell and seen them inspect the machines or (when he was on Malice) repair vehicles and fix a commissar's lasgun before he executed another soldier.
Varn noted that the Tech-Priest wore the bright red uniform of their creed, and the servo skull which flew around him managed to distract Varn from the Techn-Priest's answer. Damnable things, Varn would think whenever he started to look at it. Though, perhaps the one thing which really impressed Varn, was the mechadendrite mounted on the Tech-Priest's right side. How he controlled the thing was well beyond Varn's imagination, though it was perhaps only the one thing which kept Varn's prison attitude in check against the reply he was getting.
"... assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" Varn heard and turned his attention back to the Tech-Priest.By now he had realized that he was having another flashback, nothing unusual, though it had always taken him some time to adjust when they happened.
"Hmmm?... Oh, yes. Yes, the Inquisitor recruited me, melord," Varn answered, uncertain how he was to reply back to a Tech-Priest. "Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?" Varn quickly added, ignoring his rumbling stomach that craved for something (anything, really) to eat.
Varn noted that the Tech-Priest wore the bright red uniform of their creed, and the servo skull which flew around him managed to distract Varn from the Techn-Priest's answer. Damnable things, Varn would think whenever he started to look at it. Though, perhaps the one thing which really impressed Varn, was the mechadendrite mounted on the Tech-Priest's right side. How he controlled the thing was well beyond Varn's imagination, though it was perhaps only the one thing which kept Varn's prison attitude in check against the reply he was getting.
"... assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" Varn heard and turned his attention back to the Tech-Priest.By now he had realized that he was having another flashback, nothing unusual, though it had always taken him some time to adjust when they happened.
"Hmmm?... Oh, yes. Yes, the Inquisitor recruited me, melord," Varn answered, uncertain how he was to reply back to a Tech-Priest. "Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?" Varn quickly added, ignoring his rumbling stomach that craved for something (anything, really) to eat.
"Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?"
Holt nodded, then shook his head.
"Yes to the former, no to the latter; I was indeed selected by the Inquisitor for this mission, but I am not in charge of the operations of his ship. In fact, I am not quite sure who or—or dare I say what—is in charge of the ship's mechanical operations, though I was just on my way to find out."
The tech-priest withdrew his right mechadendrite tendril from his pocket, and extended the apendage in a gesture of greeting.
"Seeing as we shall be working together in the near future, I suppose it is important that we introduce ourselves to each other. Tristan Holt, Explorator of the holy Omnissiah's Tech-Adepts."
Holt nodded, then shook his head.
"Yes to the former, no to the latter; I was indeed selected by the Inquisitor for this mission, but I am not in charge of the operations of his ship. In fact, I am not quite sure who or—or dare I say what—is in charge of the ship's mechanical operations, though I was just on my way to find out."
The tech-priest withdrew his right mechadendrite tendril from his pocket, and extended the apendage in a gesture of greeting.
"Seeing as we shall be working together in the near future, I suppose it is important that we introduce ourselves to each other. Tristan Holt, Explorator of the holy Omnissiah's Tech-Adepts."
Do they always talk this way? Varn thought as he listened to Tristan. According to Varn there was too much details about, well, everything.
He then gave a salute in return for the Tech-Priest's gesture. "True that," Varn answered. "Well, I suppose you'd prefer my name instead of my Prisoner number. I'm Varn, Varn Gaius. Educa... Well, former Biochemist Expert of Tsade II’s Fertilization company, and in case you haven't noticed I'm currently a Penal Legionnaire," Varn said, adding a thick lair of sarcasm to the last bit.
"Lets just say that I didn't follow protocol and paid for it," Varn admitted, though he made it clear that he didn't wish to push the subject further. "Tell me, how did the Inquisitor track you down? I mean, I knew that the Inquisition was resourceful, but they found me on Malice... In the middle of a warzone," he added with amazement.
He then gave a salute in return for the Tech-Priest's gesture. "True that," Varn answered. "Well, I suppose you'd prefer my name instead of my Prisoner number. I'm Varn, Varn Gaius. Educa... Well, former Biochemist Expert of Tsade II’s Fertilization company, and in case you haven't noticed I'm currently a Penal Legionnaire," Varn said, adding a thick lair of sarcasm to the last bit.
"Lets just say that I didn't follow protocol and paid for it," Varn admitted, though he made it clear that he didn't wish to push the subject further. "Tell me, how did the Inquisitor track you down? I mean, I knew that the Inquisition was resourceful, but they found me on Malice... In the middle of a warzone," he added with amazement.
"He sent an encrypted data-slate with an acolyte to my quarters aboard the ship I was aboard at the time with official transfer orders, and documents compelling the captain of a merchant vessel docked at the same station to bring us here." said Holt.
The Tech-Priest's mechadendrites twitched slightly, betraying a hint of emotion.
"There isa very long and complicating story preceding that naturally, but I am afraid it would be neither safe—for either of us and for a number of reasons—nor appropriate to tell it to you. Suffice it to say that it involves a great deal of Mechanicus secrets and politics."
As he said this, Holt's gaze wandered off to the side of the Penal Legionnaire, to an oddly shaped patch of rust on the ceiling. Internally, analyzing the few facts Varn had divulged about himself. He was a biochemist, an expert if he was to be believed, but not a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and since he hadn't immediately recognized Holt as a Tech-Priest, it could safely be assumed that he hadn't been born on a Forge World. Working for a fertilization company would imply an Agri or Imperial World background, though a Hive World capable of producing some or all of its own food wouldn't be out to the question.
"Yes, well I suppose I ought to be on my way then. If you have nothing else to do I would like to request you come as well; many of the rites I intend to perform require an assistant. While these tasks would usually be carried out another Adept or a servitor, I've yet to see any of the former—myself excluded of course—and the only servitors I have seen have all been monotask units."
Best to keep him where I can see him until the opportunity arrives to ask the Inquisitor what his crime was.
The Tech-Priest's mechadendrites twitched slightly, betraying a hint of emotion.
"There isa very long and complicating story preceding that naturally, but I am afraid it would be neither safe—for either of us and for a number of reasons—nor appropriate to tell it to you. Suffice it to say that it involves a great deal of Mechanicus secrets and politics."
As he said this, Holt's gaze wandered off to the side of the Penal Legionnaire, to an oddly shaped patch of rust on the ceiling. Internally, analyzing the few facts Varn had divulged about himself. He was a biochemist, an expert if he was to be believed, but not a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and since he hadn't immediately recognized Holt as a Tech-Priest, it could safely be assumed that he hadn't been born on a Forge World. Working for a fertilization company would imply an Agri or Imperial World background, though a Hive World capable of producing some or all of its own food wouldn't be out to the question.
"Yes, well I suppose I ought to be on my way then. If you have nothing else to do I would like to request you come as well; many of the rites I intend to perform require an assistant. While these tasks would usually be carried out another Adept or a servitor, I've yet to see any of the former—myself excluded of course—and the only servitors I have seen have all been monotask units."
Best to keep him where I can see him until the opportunity arrives to ask the Inquisitor what his crime was.
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.
"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.
Varn nodded, ignoring the protests of his stomach. I’ve no clue where else I can go without getting lost, Varn thought, reflecting back on the previous times he had been forced into the ships like cattle.
“I don’t speak High Gothic if that’s what you need,” Varn said as he followed and then added “I haven’t spoken it in years.”
Varn kept looking to the left and right, trying to figure out what it was that kept the Tech-Priest was interested in.
"Though what did you do before you were recruited? Did you work in the factories, or is this another of these secrects you aren't allowed to share?" Varn asked, trying to keep a conversation rolling.
“I don’t speak High Gothic if that’s what you need,” Varn said as he followed and then added “I haven’t spoken it in years.”
Varn kept looking to the left and right, trying to figure out what it was that kept the Tech-Priest was interested in.
"Though what did you do before you were recruited? Did you work in the factories, or is this another of these secrects you aren't allowed to share?" Varn asked, trying to keep a conversation rolling.
"Knowledge of High Gothic will not be necessary for this task, and I admit I am not completely fluent in it myself, though I can handle all the reading myself; it will almost certainly be in techna-lingua."
"As for your second question, that is something I can freely answer. I hail from the Forge World of Eridani Regius in the Segmentum Solar, which, as a formally educated man, I assume you've heard of. That said, the Inquisitor did not recruit me until long after I had left that planet. While the Artisans of Eridani Regius are responsible for the majority of the planet's considerable industrial contribution to the Imperium, I do not think I would be very suited for that role. I spent several years studying medicae under the Magos Biologis Carenhar, but ultimately ended up joining the explotrator fleet of a certain Archmagos Soranus Tullian."
The pair came to a large steel door labeled 'enginarium.' The light on the panel to the right of the door was red.
"Locked. I anticipated this eventuality." said Holt, not quite addressing at Varn.
"As for your second question, that is something I can freely answer. I hail from the Forge World of Eridani Regius in the Segmentum Solar, which, as a formally educated man, I assume you've heard of. That said, the Inquisitor did not recruit me until long after I had left that planet. While the Artisans of Eridani Regius are responsible for the majority of the planet's considerable industrial contribution to the Imperium, I do not think I would be very suited for that role. I spent several years studying medicae under the Magos Biologis Carenhar, but ultimately ended up joining the explotrator fleet of a certain Archmagos Soranus Tullian."
The pair came to a large steel door labeled 'enginarium.' The light on the panel to the right of the door was red.
"Locked. I anticipated this eventuality." said Holt, not quite addressing at Varn.
"Knowledge of High Gothic will not be necessary for this task, and I admit I am not completely fluent in it myself, though I can handle all the reading myself; it will almost certainly be in techna-lingua."
"Uhm... Sure," Varn answered and then listened to what Tristan had to say. "I've heard of Eridani Regius, though not in deep details. Though life is filled with surprises, you must agree with that," Varn commented as they walked down the various hallways, "I started off working for the Chemical Company of Fenksworld, my birth planet. Worked to increase the chemical reaction of the factories, and then after a few years I was headhunted by the Tsade II’s Fertilization company, to increase the agricultural growth of Tsade II, Frenksworld's nearest agri-world, and that's - " Varn continued, and stopped when the Tech-Priest spoke aloud.
Varn gave a shrug. "We're probably not meant to mess around with the... En-gi-na-rium," Varn said, cutting the word out. "Though then again," Varn looked back to check if there were any people. "Where there's a will, there's a way. As they say. You think there are any form of ventilation shafts leading in?" Varn's Legion mind started to show itself as he scanned the roof and walls for any entrance. "How high would the voltage be if I - " rip the cables out? was what he would have asked, till he remembered whom it was he was addressing.
"Uhm... Sure," Varn answered and then listened to what Tristan had to say. "I've heard of Eridani Regius, though not in deep details. Though life is filled with surprises, you must agree with that," Varn commented as they walked down the various hallways, "I started off working for the Chemical Company of Fenksworld, my birth planet. Worked to increase the chemical reaction of the factories, and then after a few years I was headhunted by the Tsade II’s Fertilization company, to increase the agricultural growth of Tsade II, Frenksworld's nearest agri-world, and that's - " Varn continued, and stopped when the Tech-Priest spoke aloud.
Varn gave a shrug. "We're probably not meant to mess around with the... En-gi-na-rium," Varn said, cutting the word out. "Though then again," Varn looked back to check if there were any people. "Where there's a will, there's a way. As they say. You think there are any form of ventilation shafts leading in?" Varn's Legion mind started to show itself as he scanned the roof and walls for any entrance. "How high would the voltage be if I - " rip the cables out? was what he would have asked, till he remembered whom it was he was addressing.
Holt shook his head.
"I would rather not risk an Inquisitor's wrath when it is entirely possible that he will grant me access to it in time. Beyond that, there's the fact that simply cutting the power to the lock or door, which assumes there is a junction in the wiring near the door—simply cutting it would border on sacrilege—will most likely cause the door to bar itself from the inside and set off dozens of alarms on the bridge, as would blowing it open a demolition pack or cutting through it with a lascutter."
Holt removed the glove from his left hand and passed it through the gene sensor.
"ACCESS DENIED!" Intoned the door. Holt shook his head.
"There was little harm in trying; Osbourne will know I tried to access the Enginarium, but as I intend to ask for the access rites, he will find out one way or another. I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge."
The Tech-Priest turned to leave.
Enginarium access normally restricted, but not to the Mechanicus. Few if any other Adepts on board...But must not think further on this matter until it is made clear if Inquisitor is a Psyker.
"I would rather not risk an Inquisitor's wrath when it is entirely possible that he will grant me access to it in time. Beyond that, there's the fact that simply cutting the power to the lock or door, which assumes there is a junction in the wiring near the door—simply cutting it would border on sacrilege—will most likely cause the door to bar itself from the inside and set off dozens of alarms on the bridge, as would blowing it open a demolition pack or cutting through it with a lascutter."
Holt removed the glove from his left hand and passed it through the gene sensor.
"ACCESS DENIED!" Intoned the door. Holt shook his head.
"There was little harm in trying; Osbourne will know I tried to access the Enginarium, but as I intend to ask for the access rites, he will find out one way or another. I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge."
The Tech-Priest turned to leave.
Enginarium access normally restricted, but not to the Mechanicus. Few if any other Adepts on board...But must not think further on this matter until it is made clear if Inquisitor is a Psyker.
"...I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge." Tristan said, and then turned to leave the area, though Varn kept looking at the door, stroking his chin thoughtfully before he muttered, "Well, I don't recall any of these flashbacks, so I'll presume that I haven't don't anything reckless so far."
He then turned to follow Tristan, his thought mainly evolving around how to he could break down such a door. The Legion would strap melta bombs to Legionnaires and send them running ahead, but I can think of a few concentrated acids which might just go through the, though I wouldn't know for sure how long it would take.
He shook his head, I've come to far to mess around in my dreams. Deal with what is happening, Varn reminded himself.
He then turned to follow Tristan, his thought mainly evolving around how to he could break down such a door. The Legion would strap melta bombs to Legionnaires and send them running ahead, but I can think of a few concentrated acids which might just go through the, though I wouldn't know for sure how long it would take.
He shook his head, I've come to far to mess around in my dreams. Deal with what is happening, Varn reminded himself.
"Well, I don't recall any of these flashbacks, so I'll presume that I haven't don't anything reckless so far."
Somewhere behind him, Holt thought he heard the penal legionnaire whisper something.
I am sorry, did you just say something?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Somewhere behind him, Holt thought he heard the penal legionnaire whisper something.
I am sorry, did you just say something?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Varn gave Tristan a puzzled look before he answered, "I said, I don't remember any of my flashbacks where I was reckless on a ship. So I must have behaved while I was here. I mean... Everything is just a dream. I'm reliving my past mistakes so I can remember why I was sent to Sheol, but I know that they're all just flashbacks," Varn explained, though he couldn't read whether the Tech-Priest was following him or not, so her tried a different approach.
"This is all a dream, flashback, bad memory, call it what you want, but it is all so I know my sin. I'm actually on Sheol XVI, the Penal World, waiting for my papers to be processed and then send back to Frenksworld. Everything that is happening is in the past, it has always been that way. Everything is one long flashback."
Varn had no clue just how mad he was sounding. To him it made perfect sense that it was a flashback and he would be released after having relived it.; he believed it all. "It doesn't make sense to you, because you don't know what is going to happen in the future. I do, because I've already lived through it, it's just a bit hazy right now, but it will get back," he added continuing to walk down the hallway.
"This is all a dream, flashback, bad memory, call it what you want, but it is all so I know my sin. I'm actually on Sheol XVI, the Penal World, waiting for my papers to be processed and then send back to Frenksworld. Everything that is happening is in the past, it has always been that way. Everything is one long flashback."
Varn had no clue just how mad he was sounding. To him it made perfect sense that it was a flashback and he would be released after having relived it.; he believed it all. "It doesn't make sense to you, because you don't know what is going to happen in the future. I do, because I've already lived through it, it's just a bit hazy right now, but it will get back," he added continuing to walk down the hallway.
Holt gave Varn an odd look before following after him.
Is this some sort of trick? Is he testing me, or his simply a madman? he wondered.
A few moments of tense silence passed before Holt responded, choosing each word carefully.
"That...line of reasoning is inherently self-contradicting. Do you not see the paradox in you bringing up this so called 'flashback' within itself?"
The Tech-Priest doubted that would make a difference; assuming he wasn't lying for some esoteric agenda, this man was clearly delusional, and merely pointing out the impossibility or implausibility of their beliefs rarely makes a difference. He took note of what Varn had revealed about himself. Of course, given the man's apparent delusions, it was entirely possible that Varn could be similarly delusional about other elements of his past.
Fenksworld, Hive World, Homeworld. Sheol XVI, Penal World. Inquisitor has likely promised release in exchange for his service. Must ascertain whether or not his insanity was the cause or effect of imprisionment; unlikely to be no relation. Returning to topic of ship automation, must be careful. Inquisitor could space me, shoot me, or otherwise eliminate me at his leisure. Must not think further on it; Inquisitor could be telepath or have loyal psykers on board. Also shouldn't jump to conclusions; not all possible causes of automation are necessarily heretekal.
Is this some sort of trick? Is he testing me, or his simply a madman? he wondered.
A few moments of tense silence passed before Holt responded, choosing each word carefully.
"That...line of reasoning is inherently self-contradicting. Do you not see the paradox in you bringing up this so called 'flashback' within itself?"
The Tech-Priest doubted that would make a difference; assuming he wasn't lying for some esoteric agenda, this man was clearly delusional, and merely pointing out the impossibility or implausibility of their beliefs rarely makes a difference. He took note of what Varn had revealed about himself. Of course, given the man's apparent delusions, it was entirely possible that Varn could be similarly delusional about other elements of his past.
Fenksworld, Hive World, Homeworld. Sheol XVI, Penal World. Inquisitor has likely promised release in exchange for his service. Must ascertain whether or not his insanity was the cause or effect of imprisionment; unlikely to be no relation. Returning to topic of ship automation, must be careful. Inquisitor could space me, shoot me, or otherwise eliminate me at his leisure. Must not think further on it; Inquisitor could be telepath or have loyal psykers on board. Also shouldn't jump to conclusions; not all possible causes of automation are necessarily heretekal.
Varn started to laugh, "What paradox? You don't believe it because you haven't experienced the future, and by the time you have, we will have parted ways," Varn tried to bring his laughter down to a chuckle, though with minor success. "I know that we will succeed in whatever mission that this Inquisitor has because I am alive in the future. I can't speak for all of us, only myself, of course."
Varn continued to walk down the hallway, occasionally looking back. "Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," Varn commented aloud. "Or should we take our chances?"
Varn continued to walk down the hallway, occasionally looking back. "Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," Varn commented aloud. "Or should we take our chances?"
"I would point out that if this was a flashback, it would be impossible for you to inform me of that fact, but I doubt that would change your mind. As such, I suggest we abandon this topic for now."
Holt brushed the metal mask of his respirator unit with his gloved hand as an ordinary man might stroke his beard.
Delusions of safety have made this man reckless; had few qualms about forcing way into Enginarium, suggested it in the first place. Must be cautious around him. thought the Tech-Priest.
"Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," asked Varn.
"Or should we take our chances?" he added.
"Ordinarily that would be true, but this is a highly atypical ship. I doubt there are more than a handful of officers aboard, and either way, I have no intention of breaking into the bridge either if its locked." replied Holt.
Holt brushed the metal mask of his respirator unit with his gloved hand as an ordinary man might stroke his beard.
Delusions of safety have made this man reckless; had few qualms about forcing way into Enginarium, suggested it in the first place. Must be cautious around him. thought the Tech-Priest.
"Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," asked Varn.
"Or should we take our chances?" he added.
"Ordinarily that would be true, but this is a highly atypical ship. I doubt there are more than a handful of officers aboard, and either way, I have no intention of breaking into the bridge either if its locked." replied Holt.
Varn shrugged to Tristan's comment and kept walking down the hallway, Varn retreating into his own thoughts. Varn allowed the Tech-Priest to lead the way, though they didn't talk much after that, and eventually they arrived before the door which led into the Bridge, where Varn, who was still in his own world, entered the door along.
As Varn stepped in, he gave the room a good look and noticed an abnormally short figure that immediately brought suspicion and fear. "Bloody Warp! I didn't know there was a Ratling onboard the ship," Varn said aloud, and pointed to the stomp figure in the room.
As Varn stepped in, he gave the room a good look and noticed an abnormally short figure that immediately brought suspicion and fear. "Bloody Warp! I didn't know there was a Ratling onboard the ship," Varn said aloud, and pointed to the stomp figure in the room.
Thungrim Thunderfist glanced round as the heard the door open behind him, admitting two figures to the otherwise deserted bridge.
They both appeared to be human, although one was decked out in an array of primitive technological enhancements and red robes, marking him out as a Tech Priest, the other appeared to be a scrawny solider of some description...
"RATLING?!!"
The Engineer roared in response to the latter's comment, clenching his Powerfist, sending tendrils of energy coursing through the armoured gauntlet...
"I'm a Squat, Laddie!! An' what aere ye supposed tae be, some sort of scrawny, Beardless Eldar..?!"
They both appeared to be human, although one was decked out in an array of primitive technological enhancements and red robes, marking him out as a Tech Priest, the other appeared to be a scrawny solider of some description...
"RATLING?!!"
The Engineer roared in response to the latter's comment, clenching his Powerfist, sending tendrils of energy coursing through the armoured gauntlet...
"I'm a Squat, Laddie!! An' what aere ye supposed tae be, some sort of scrawny, Beardless Eldar..?!"
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