I have been issued new vestments along with my new title. Custom-tailored in proper Martian red, marking rank by an ancient symbol of danger containment facilities dating to the days of Holy Terra. Very little circuitry, but the lumen lines are a clever addition. The symbology should become clear enough to the book-burning inquisitorial sort I have been charged with containing.
Speaking of the Inquisition, its newest member has spared no hesitation in stirring further trouble. While seeking Tellexus’ drop project as a forward Inquisitorial command post, he sent his lapdog to steal the rover of the current squatter from whom they seek permission. While Waylon saw fit to return the Nyx-side speeder upon the realization that our business was in Infernus, this show of goodwill was about as honest as one might expect. From the look of the guards at her door, I was surprised that she seemed so willing to entertain the idea of assisting the Inquisition… though perhaps this was the sway of the “Hero of Granite Shore”. If so, I do not envy the lapdog’s expected facial structure once the beleagured VJ has time to catch up on the news.
It is far more pleasant to be the one commandeering trains rather than the one having trains commandeered from. The embargo has left empty rails along a wide stretch of planet, which we are free to travel in peace and quiet. The stations themselves are just as empty, without even the barest emergency lighting; the Inquisitorial crone confirmed this was not her doing. A quick stop at one such station confirmed complete lack of power starting one day after the much-publicized battle of the Moraine, which is curious considering the crone’s mention that contact was lost with Paretum Temple with massed Borers two days after the battle. The Temple powers these stations, early deactivation is odd. Sisigmund seemed more concerned about the rioters left to freeze to death in the unheated building (though not so concerned to resist the urge to imitate the Inquisition by dumping burning Prometheum everywhere) and Waylon seemed more concerned with dismantling a dead servitor he bumped into in the dark, but such irrationality is to be expected.
Paretum station itself was similarly unpowered, though this construction shows far greater care than the other stations, ramshackle huts against the cold that they were. Looting had claimed most Infernus-ready vehicles, but Sisigmund’s intuition uncovered two project vehicles of the motorpool staff. The four-wheeler was a kindred spirit to Waylon, eagerly accelerating out into the dunes to leave our strike force in the dust.
Once more, a distress signal beckons to us in transit through a storm, though the scouring sand is even less likely to leave survivors than the gray blizzards of Nyx. Sisigmund found signs of archaic weapon usage on what was likely a Borer vehicle, indicating another faction in this dispute. No matter, whichever party disrupted the work of the Temple shall receive due extermination.
The temple looms now. Perimeter defenses lie abandoned showing signs of damage, vehicles are left in the temple’s shade. Almost a week has passed since whatever incident occurred here, any fighting is more than likely long done. We should soon discover who won.