Skritch. Skritch... Skritch.

"My lord, we made inquiries with Lord Gary, as you asked." Savillette spoke, legs crossed comfortably in one of the visitor chairs. "His response was short, but conclusive... Attacks against a member of the Gray family will be punished."

Skritch. Skritch.

"It seems Kafalan still cares about his wayward daughter." The Executive commented.

"What did he say... exactly." Crecius asked, pen scratching across a cluttered page.

Davros flipped through pages in his notebook, quickly finding the right one.

"His exact words were. 'She's a Gray. No violence."

"No violence, ehh..." Crecius smiled. "Well, there's plenty of wiggle room there."

"Indeed." Davros agreed, drawing a frown from his superior.

Crecius filed the comment away with the others. He was constantly weighing the man’s intentions, trying to gauge his loyalty.

They'd worked together for over a decade, but Crecious still couldn't trust the man. His work was beyond reproach, unassailable. But that was the problem. He was too competent. Crecius knew for a fact that he'd had a half dozen offers from Lords with far better prospects. Why would the bastard choose him?

It didn't make sense.

"What about this, Kint Archaedis?" Crecius asked, "Have you found anything?"

Davros' lips drew to a frustrated line.

"Very little is known about the man." He admitted. "He lives in the Government Quarter with his daughter. She’s in her fifth year of schooling. They've been in the 13th for over 6 years, and before that... nothing."

Crecius stopped sketching, giving Davros a questioning look.

"Nothing?"

"Nothing." He repeated. "All we have is his transfer order, sealed by the church."

"The church?" Crecius frowned, confused. "Who sealed it?"

Savillette shrugged.

"We don't know."

He sifted through his notebook, removing a folded parchment and handing it over.

"But it was someone high up."

Crecius unfolded the missive, revealing a transfer order with a Sceptor's seal on it.

“A Sceptor?”He muttered, surprised. "But, who?"

"We don't know." The Executive repeated. "None of my contacts have even heard of this 'Kint Archaedis'."

Lord Crecius grimaced, loosening his jaw to stop his teeth from grinding. He did not like mysteries. Especially not in his District. It made him feel exposed. A man with such secrets that a Sceptor would vouch for him? Living in his district?

How had this slipped by him?

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"Sh'Geel." The Lord called.

The hulking Acolyte stepped out of the shadows.

"Yes, My Lord."

His deep voice rumbled, head bowed.

"Did you know about this... this Kint Archaedis?" He questioned, raising an eyebrow.

"I did not, My Lord."

"Then why did you suggest them? This pair?"

"They've little ambition, and much to lose.” He replied, eyes on the floor in deference. “As you requested, sir."

"Do you still believe in them, Acolyte?" Crecius asked, "Can they complete the Seal?"

"I've no doubt, sir." He responded. "I've confirmed it this very night."

"Good." The Lord smiled. Comforted by the words.

He began sketching again.

Lord Crecius liked Acolyte Sh'Geel.

Having such a brutish figure around was always useful. But, more than that, the man was effective. He'd been executing ever since Crecius pulled him out of irrelevancy. And best of all, he could be trusted. He'd been as low as a Blessed could go. He understood how much he had to lose.

"You know." Crecius started. "If they don't succeed. I can always put you back where I found you."

"Of--of course. My Lord." The Acolyte stumbled, skulking back to his corner.

The Lord smiled. He trusted Sh'Geel… But, there was nothing wrong with a well placed reminder.

"I've also confirmed it with our sources at HQ.” Acolyte Savillette mentioned, “The investigation is all but over."

Crecius smiled.

Another point for the brute.

He drew an X through his current diagram, grabbing a blank sheaf of paper to begin again.

Skritch Skritch... Scritch.

"And the Lab?" He asked, not looking up.

"The Lab is another matter, unfortunately." Davros sighed. "The expansion of both the Outer and Inner Core's continues to accelerate. The Outer core has grown to encompass much of the 11th Inkhold District, as well as our own 13th."

"What are the effects?"

Skritch Skritch... Slide...

"Minimal effects, as far as we can tell. Bad dreams seem to be the main one." The bald man noted. "Although..." He closed his booklet, cocking his head to one side. "There may be second order consequences."

Skritch skritch... Slide.

“Unrest among the Kadenites.” Crecius stated.

“Exactly, my Lord.” Davros agreed.

The Lord ground his teeth.

Too many problems... too many variables.

"What about the Inner core?"

"We have no way of knowing its effects, sir." Savillett shrugged. "No one we've sent in has ever come out."

"Can we contain it?" The Lord asked.

Davros sighed. Giving him a pitying look.

"My Lord."

Skritch. Skritch.

"I think it's time we discussed liquidating procedures." He pleaded. "The Dutchess is–.”

Skritch skritch. SNAP!

The tip of his pen broke under the pressure of his strokes, halting the Executives words.

"Four days! Four days out, we notice her.” He griped. “She moves like a ghost. The harlot."

Savillette folded his hands over his notebook, patiently.

Lord Crecius took several deep breaths, his blood pressure descending.

"Try to manage it as best you can. But, begin preparations to liquidate." He conceded, "If we can't contain it before she arrives... torch it."

"Of course, My Lord." The man nodded.

"See to it." Crecius ordered, waving the man away.

He let out a heavy sigh as the door slid closed.

His shoulders slumped as he stared at the nonsense he'd been drawing.

He crumpled the paper, tossing it to the waste bin.

It was a simple thing really. A trinket for Lord Kort-Tyne. He would get nowhere with it tonight.

Crecius frowned, leaning back in his chair, staring at the battle of black and purple swirls raging across his walls. Taking control of his Well, he siphoned power from the walls. The swirls stopped. Neither purple nor black had the edge. Another stalemate.

He ground his teeth.

He was so close.

For fifteen years he'd struggled to hold this District together, to see it prosper. Fifteen years he'd sought to rise, reach past this post. Never faltering, but never ascending either.

He was close now. The breakthrough he needed was right at his fingertips. He just needed to hold it together. Just a few more days.