Just as Alvin was racking his brain, trying to figure out how to bluff his way through this.
The Tech-Priest named Aruman suddenly furrowed his brow. His modified mechanical eye flashed scarlet as he stared at Alvin. "Wait. What was your name again?"
Alvin was a little confused, but happy to change the subject. "My name is Alvin, respected Priest Vera."
"What? I'm asking for your surname!"
Aruman's temper seemed short. He asked impatiently, "Don't make me ask twice, boy. What's your full name?"
"Uh... Alvin Valshius." Alvin's mouth twitched as he grumbled to himself, Would it kill you to be a little clearer?
Aruman obviously had no idea what Alvin was thinking. After hearing his answer, he furrowed his brow and looked thoughtful. "Valshius. Who was your father?"
"I don't know."
Alvin shook his head and put on a bewildered expression. "I never saw my father after I was born."
"What about your mother? What did she do for a living? What was her name?" Aruman's questions made Alvin feel as if he were filling out a household registration form. It was a little uncomfortable.
Alvin looked at Tuck, seemingly seeking his opinion.
"Priest Aruman may not be a good man, but he means no harm."
Tuck nodded slightly, then looked at Aruman beside him and explained to Alvin, "We served in the same regiment once. He's absolutely trustworthy. He's just a little odd and short-tempered."
"All right. I don't know why you're asking about my mother..."
Alvin paused to collect his thoughts, then continued, "But since Mr. Tuck believes you're trustworthy, I'll trust you too."
"My mother's name was Selika Portopunga. She was a laborer in the Mid-hive."
"I don't know who my father was, but according to my mother, they met by chance. After spending one night together, she got pregnant. Later, she was driven down to the Underhive because of her debts. My mother died of hunger and disease when I was six."
"As for my father, I'm sorry, but I've never met him. He probably died in the Underhive or the Mid-hive."
Alvin gave a brief account, then looked at the pensive Aruman and shrugged. "That's all, Priest Vera. Do you have any other questions?"
"No, that's all. Thank you for your cooperation."
Aruman gave him a long look, then turned to Tuck. "I have an idea. I may be able to contact an Inquisitor, but it'll take a little time."
"How long?"
Tuck frowned as he asked, "Those cultist scum have already begun their sacrificial ritual. We're running out of time."
"Pestering me won't help, Tuck." Aruman rose calmly and dusted the grime from his rust-red robe. "Unless you can close that damn Warp Rift, keep your mouth shut!"
"One last thing."
Tuck hurriedly grabbed Aruman as he was about to leave, then put on a flattering smile. "This kid's being hunted by a Cult Psychic. Take him in for a while."
Tuck had expected he'd have to offer something in return, since Aruman usually drove a hard bargain. But this time, things went against his expectations.
Aruman readily agreed. "All right. No problem."
"That easy?"
Tuck grew suspicious. He eyed Aruman with curiosity, as if he were a stranger. "That's not like you. Don't you usually squeeze me for all I'm worth?"
"What, you don't like it?" Aruman sneered and held out his hand. "Fine. As usual, five hundred crowns a month. Pay up."
"Ugh, what's wrong with my ears now?"
Tuck immediately played dumb, patting his ears as he turned to leave. As he walked, he muttered to himself, "Ah, I'm getting old. I wonder who I lost my hearing for back then."
Several veins visibly bulged on Aruman's forehead. "Get out! Get out of here!"
Tuck chuckled and took a few steps over to Alvin. Lowering his voice, he said seriously, "Boy, behave yourself for the next few days. Don't cause any trouble."
"Don't worry, Mr. Tuck. I understand." Alvin nodded, then asked curiously, "Are you going back?"
"Of course. I have to keep an eye on the cultists." Tuck muttered a curse, then warned him, "Aruman's got a temper. Try not to provoke him, got it?"
Alvin sensed a hint of concern in the Astra Militarum veteran's words and felt touched. "Thank you, Mr. Tuck. Please be careful."
Tuck waved a hand and said no more as he strode out of the chapel.
Aruman, the Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priest, didn't pay him any attention at all. He went straight back to the room by the side door, off to do who knew what.
At last, Alvin had some time to himself.
"Nachmund..."
Great. Yeah, right. What good news? It's all bad news!
Alvin sat down dejectedly, his mind full of the Nachmund Gauntlet and the coming Nachmund Campaign.
Thanks to Tuck, he now had some understanding of the current timeline.
M41.999. The great Warmaster Abaddon had piloted the Blackstone Fortress into Planet Cadia, shattering it. The resulting explosion tore apart realspace and unleashed the power of the Warp into the galaxy, forming a vast, scar-like "curse" in the Imperium's northern Segmentum Obscurus!
Untamed Warp tides surged through the galaxy, unleashing the malice of the Chaos Gods!
Nearly a third of the Imperium's territory had been completely cut off on the Dark Side.
The Nachmund Gauntlet was the only relatively safe route into the Dark Side, cut off by the Curse Scar!
Unless something unexpected happened, the Nachmund Gauntlet would soon become a vital chokepoint fought over by the Imperium and Chaos. Both sides would commit troops without regard for the cost, fighting so fiercely they'd knock each other's brains out!
To be honest, Alvin had a little faith, but not much.
Sacrificing himself for the Imperium was absolutely out of the question.
Go stop the war in the Nachmund Gauntlet? Give me a break. That was a complete joke!
At this point, Alvin's only way out was to find a ship as soon as possible—right now—and get the hell to another sector, as far from the Nachmund Gauntlet as he could.
He lowered his head and glanced at his wrist. The Navigator System was still exploring new worlds.
"Looks like I'll be stuck in the Mid-hive for a while."
Aruman returned to his private workshop, which was filled with all sorts of mechanical creations.
He sat in a chair and pondered for a while, then summoned a Servitor Skull and entered a message.
The search results soon appeared on the screen. As Aruman read the brief report, his expression shifted from calm to faintly moved.
"Alvin Valshius... If my guess is right..."
Aruman's eyes flickered as he murmured meaningfully, "It seems I'll have to use that thing."
The Tech-Priest went straight to one of the workshop's walls. After an iris scan, the wall suddenly rotated, revealing a passage into a hidden chamber.
Aruman hurried inside. The room held the important "assets" he'd accumulated over the years.
The reason they had to be kept hidden was simple: they were "Xenos creations," by the Imperium's standards!
Aruman approached a modified skull with its top cut off and placed his palm against it. Psychic power slowly spilled forth. His consciousness plunged into the Warp, weaving the words in his mind into a message. Under the influence of his psychic power, it flew through countless obstacles, like a carrier pigeon.
This "email" would cross the stars.
If all went well, he'd receive a reply in a few days.
But after pondering for a moment, Aruman used another device to contact someone on another planet in the same system.
"I am Aruman Vera, an Adeptus Mechanicus Tech-Priest."
His voice was low and hoarse, with a distinctive rhythm as he spoke slowly. "I know you're currently undergoing your evaluation. I imagine you're in need of a deed to prove yourself to your mentor, aren't you, Inquisitor Winnie Winslet?"
Before you continue