While Scargrin takes the call, Flextruth can’t help but think about those rumours considering Deep Space. To her, they’re nothing more than up stories than real facts, but the gnawing feeling remains that at least a few parts ought to be true. Considering that our species made the biggest and fastest expansion under our current Empress, she thinks while running another environment scan. It wouldn’t be weird that she would employ Pactkeepers. If she can control them, and as the things stand she can, they ought to be the most valuable assets the whole Empire ever had. Or is Marconite the one controlling them? What do I know about him?

„Flex, we scram“, says Scargrin and plops back into his chair.

„What?“ she asks confused. „I thought we were to apprehend them?“

„I thought so too, but Domoris wants us back on base. Said that we’ll get new orders once we have reported back.“

„Did you tell him about my fuckup?“ Flextruth asks apprehensive.

„I took responsibility for it“, replies Scargrin, strangely somber.

„What?“ she exclaimed before being able to keep her mouth shut.

„I told you, I don’t want to lose you, as you’re my best Interviewer.“

„As if he doesn’t demote you, once we’re back on Insularum.“

„He won’t. After all, thanks to his paranoia, he doesn’t like to get new people. He can already blackmail me. But someone new? He would need to gather intel again, something he hates more than low-grade fuckups, where just a few no-names were killed.“

For a few moments, they fall silent. The only sound being the hum of the engines starting up.

„We need some distance to the camp before I dare to switch to flight-mode,“ Scargin murmurs and makes as U-turn. „Those Cultists have so many stolen gadgets, there’s the possibility that they also have some antiaircraft weaponry at the ready.“

„Scargrin?“ she asks after a few heartbeats.

„Yes?“ he replies without looking away from the dashboard and its countless gauges. „You can call me Radoren, by the way.“

„Is that your name?“

„Yes.“

„Then call me Velenta.“

„But this isn’t what you want to know, now, is it?“

„No. I… What do you know about Marconite Avarion?“

Stolen novel; please report.

„The First Steward himself?“ Scargrin asks surprised. „Well, I don’t know much about him.“

„Not knowing much still means you know something,“ she replies with her voice kept low.

„What I know about him are rumours of rumours. For once, I’ve heard that he’s a Twinling.“

„What’s a Twinling?“ Flextruth asks confused.

„That’s… Well, I’m far from certain that it’s true. It’s after all impossible that he would’ve survived it.“

„Just tell me what a Twiling is, damn you,“ Flextruth hisses.

„Don’t hiss at me,“ he replies with a snarl and clears his throat a moment later. „It’s said that sometimes there are Single eggs where two Menkar hatch from. They’re usually horrible amalgamations, in constant pain, and are killed by their Aquatic Drone to end their misery. But once in a millennia there ought to be Twinlings who are fully separated from each other and make it through, although they’re rumoured to start out rather small.“

„Sounds just like a genetic oddity of which, the Void knows, we’ve enough,“ remarks Flextruth and feels, despite her disbelief, a chill run down her spine. „I fail to see the importance.“

„There are a few superstitions floating around Twinlings, though,“ he continues while scanning their surroundings for a suitable ramp to facilitate a faster take off. „For one, they’re rumoured to share one mind. Like the Unified Mind Theory, but without the need to be submerged in the same body of water.“

„Sounds made up.“

„Who knows with all those psychic abilities our species have, though. I, personally, think the other rumor, which states that they not only share looks but also behaviours and manners, makes more sense. They’re like mirrors.“

„Interesting, but what make you think he’s a Twinling?“

„Didn’t you look at the dossiers of the Cult-leaders?“ Scargrin asks bemused and switches the truster engines into flight mode.

„I did“, she replies angry, while inputting some calculations for their start.

„Well, can’t blame you“, he continues and types something into the main console. „You only notice if you put their pictures right next to each other.“

„Would you mind being less vague?“ Flextruth asks, but a moment later her gaze wanders to the main console.

On the right is the official picture of Marconite Avarion in his uniform — something she and every Menkar was so used to seeing around that she never bothered to look closer at the image. On the left was a picture of, what the Empire considered, the main leader of the Cult of the Pale God.

„Th-they… they look…“, she murmurs, utterly shocked.

„Like mirrors“, completes Scargrin her thought. „Although, I’ve to admit that Marconite seems less sane than this fanatic.“

„Could it be the reason the Cult hasn’t been nuke the moment it took traction?“ Flextruth muses in a low whisper.

„My thoughts exactly, but it’s best if we keep them to ourselves“, Scargrin remarks and initiates the start of their ship.

All Flextruth can do is nod. Besides the fact that saying something like this could get her not only demoted but executed for treason, there is another problem. While Marconite‘s relationship to the Leader of the Cult could not only be spun into a conflict of interest but also as a valid reason for immediate execution, there is no way to get to him. He’s the First Steward and, as such and ignoring the Empress, the most powerful Menkar in the whole universe.

Despite the feelings of anger and indignation this realisation causes her, Flextruth pushes those aside. There‘s nothing I can do about it, she considers. I have to think about my Bondmates. If I start to ask peculiar questions, they will be the ones suffering the most. With this in mind, she takes a deep breath and looks straight ahead. The most important thing right now to concentrate on is her next objective. After all, it didn’t happen often that the Steward of the Cetusian Fleet was calling back teams still on the job.