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“Oh, you want my input as well? Hasn't Amos told you enough? Really? Oh, I'm so flattered, truly. In fact, I'm so happy, I totally don't feel like strangling you right now.”
$%$%$% Taylor's POV $%$%$%
I led Inquisitor Dahl and Magos Martellus through Castle Canterlot's winding halls, casually messaging the cyborg as we walked. Yeah, I was actually surprised to see my armor was able to communicate with his augments. Still, that was one way of eliminating the language barrier, and one I was glad for. I don't know if you've ever used telepathy, but it can be very draining with prolonged use, and I wasn't about to fuck with cybernetics, because I know how much they can interfere with psychic abilities.
Not much further now. Speaking to Dahl alone was more difficult than Amos and Oleg in combination, mostly due to his training to ward against mental intrusion. I sent the same words to Martellus, and even received a faster response. There was an estimated three minutes before the servo-skull would fully loaded with the English language files, and be able to convert Low Gothic to English and back. It would take a few moments for the servo-skull to translate at first, but I had been assured its machine spirit was capable of adapting and improving.
“This better not be a trap.” Inquisitor Dahl was such a paranoid man; it would hardly be sporting for me to kill him now, what with knowing of Ophidia and the threat he posed. It is worth mention that I had picked up a passing familiarity for Low Gothic by repeated intrusions into the psyker's mind. Put simply, I could understand him and everyone else, but they could not understand my language. I could, as well, speak it, but that would just be weird.
Dahl, trust me on this. It was like speaking to a child, honestly. A very religious, pious child who hated everyone who didn't believe what he believed. It was times like those that I wished the Musician was attached to the Canterlot Temple, but I knew family matters kept her in Ponyville. And yes, that is the town's name.
“Yes, it would be counter-intuitive for Skully to kill either of us.” As much as I didn't like Dahl, I liked Martellus, if only because he served as a voice of reason. Also, he's like Robocop, only not a cop, and more robotic. If he was correct about the servo-skull's adaptability, then I wondered how he wold react to seeing Leviathan. It was nice to wonder things, curiosity and all that good stuff.
It gave me something to focus on as I knocked on Celestia's door.
$%$%$% Amos's POV $%$%$%
Ponies. They were colorful things, capable of speaking any languages humans could. That was petty creepy when the white male with the blue mustache perfectly repeated every sentence we said, without an accent. Mimicry was not a skill I would associate with them at first glance, but they seemed to have a knack for it. He was also very friendly, more so than I had come to expect from xenos. Though we could not understand each other, he motioned for us to follow him. I noticed he had the smallest of limps from his missing limb, though his prosthetic seemed adequate enough to alleviate most f his problems.
The unnamed inquisitor held Delphine's bolt pistol in a golden aura, which seemed to be the pony's method of channeling Warp-energy. He wasn't waving it around or attempting to disarm the weapon; he just sort of... held it, that really all I can say. Really, I think you're underestimating how nonthreatening this alien was. Anyway, he led us through the castle at a leisurely pace, motioning every now and then to point out something interesting we couldn't understand. Personally, I think he was just happy to be doing something.
“I really don't like this.” Delphine was the most pessimistic Sororitas I have ever met, and that really means some shit. Oleg and Alexander nodded in agreement as the pony threw a pair of double doors open. Inquisitors milled about within, carrying books and other necessities of their work. Many of them were horned, pony psykers like the one who led us, though there were also several with only wings, and even some who lacked both of those traits. We didn't even draw any strange looks as we were walked to a small lounge, complete with couches and a water cooler. There was a vending machine in the corner, and our guide kind enough to demonstrate its proper use.
“You worry too much,” I said, testing the cooler's water. Alexander said it was clean enough to drink, purified by boiling. Surprisingly, however, it was cold enough to be rather refreshing. I sighed and fell into one of the very comfortable sofas, loving my chance at relaxation after a day of trudging through jungle and watching my own back. “Way I see it, Dahl and Martellus will get this sorted out, and we'll have Ophidia before the year's out.”
“I wouldn't be so sure. We know how he operates, his methods, how he thinks, and yet we've only ever come close. These aliens have none of the experience needed to fight a cult to Chaos Undivided.” Oleg was a griper as well s a comedian, but he was also devilishly intelligent and wise beyond his years. He was correct in the ponies' lack of proper training in dealing with the Ruinous Powers, though they could learn like any acolyte.
“They have numbers and resources we do not.” Alexander's voice was as hoarse as always, a side-effect of his augmented throat. The savant must have been a mutant of some kind, a gene twisted to allow him his inhuman memory, because he never forgot even the tiniest of details. I guarantee he could tell you how many shots are fired by an entire Imperial Guard regiment in one hour of heated battle, and even include how many times every man had to reload. “Need I remind you of Eureka?”
Eureka was the planet where we last fought Ophidia; I'm sure you are aware of its fate.
$%$%$% Taylor's POV $%$%$%
Okay, so, as it turns out, Dahl did not like the look of Celestia. Well, the feeling was kind of mutual, so I can't really blame him. Robocop just stood there, lenses focused on the regent like nobody's business.
“Who is that?” Martellus asked, staying on target. Celestia looked at me, head tilted to the side, obviously not understanding the cyborg. I caught her gaze for the briefest of moments, before I threw my consciousness into hers.
Okay, remember Leviathan?
Yes, why? I gave her a look, and watched as the realization slowly dawned on her. These men, and one woman, came from the same universe as Leviathan, my Mars pattern Baneblade. Which obviously meant they were extremely dangerous, or after someone or something that was also dangerous as in planet-killer style monster or weapon. She knew little about Chaos, the precious bits of information she gleaned from millenia of speaking to humans to happen to find their way to Equestria. What's it going to take to integrate them into society, or prevent them from getting help?
Tia, what are your not-so-secret police for if not handling these things? I used a little emotion in my mental voice, a slight coloration to let her know I was smiling beneath my bone-white mask. The alicorn looked at me sternly for equating the Inquisition to the likes of the Gestapo or KGB, but that was essentially what we were if you sifted through the bullshit. We existed purely to destroy threats to the kingdom by any means necessary. “Now, Martellus, how's the servo-skull coming along?”
“You can speak Low Gothic?” Dahl asked, oddly surprised at my linguistic skills. Really, I had spent the past couple hours in the guy's brain; I knew he wet the bed until he was fifteen and lost his virginity to a prostitute. However, I was not speaking his language wen I said that.
“It appears to be fully operational, Skully.”