"One or a thousand, I will kill them all."
That is the code the Vindicare assassin LII.VI/52.6 follows in service to the Offico Assassinorum of the Imperium of Man.
Sent to kill a young Eldar Farseer named Taldeer, who is wounded from a battle on t...
It was half an hour since Taesan left. The Exitus rifle had been cared for, and primary Taldeer was almost healed. Only her arm and leg remained untreated.
LIVII glanced at the Farseer before returning to his pistol's maintenance. Much of the light had returned to her eyes, and she seemed to enjoy the company of the medic.
Mellorena, for her part, seemed quite proficient in her art - the scars that ran across Taldeer's body were barely visible.
There was something about the Farseer's body which made it hard to look away. As the Eldar woman performed motor tests, her lean, toned musculature was easily visible. With every flex, long and slender muscles rippled beneath her skin like curving, flowing waves, each one leading fluidly into the next.
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On a rational level, Liivi understood that this woman was xenos - that it should not be surprising that there were notable physiological differences between her body and the holy human form.
Yet somehow, he felt surprised by the fact that the body of this warrior, one of her race's finest, more closely resembled what he would expect to see in a dancer, gymnast, or athlete. An irrational expectation. But it surprised - no, stunned - it stunned him all the same.
This was the source of a sensation that was equal parts unfamiliar and confusing, and so Liivi did his best to ignore it. Taldeer was his primary, and his primary must be protected. Protecting primary Taldeer required that this pistol function well.
The sound of footsteps. Large ones. Liivi looked up. It was the other Fire Dragon. He sat on the ground in front of the vindicare. Even from this position, he cut an imposing figure. He was as tall as Taesan, if not taller but with significantly more muscle.
Entering hand to hand combat with him would be undesirable.
"My name is Ysukin," the giant said, his voice a low yet resonating rumble. "I do not yet trust you, mon-keigh. But you saved our Farseer. For that I am thankful. But expect no mercy for treachery."
The eldar put his hand forward. LIIVI looked hesitantly up at the giant before turning back to his pistol.
He shook the eldar's hand while removing the coolant sheath.
"Noted. I am LIIVI."
Something twitched in his face. Consternation? "I apologize if my gothic is rusty."
An unwarranted apology. His gothic was impeccable. He even mimicked a Terran accent.
The Vindicare began to disassemble the magazine. "You speak well. Like the others. Many of you know gothic. More than I thought."
Ysukin frowned and nodded. "It is more common than you might think."
"Officer candidates typically learn it to enhance their chance of being selected. There is also a not insubstantial portion of the youth that leaves to explore the galaxy. It would be impossible to get around without knowing at least a bit of Gothic."
