Quoted By:
~~~
The poking and prodding of your servo-skull brings you back to consciousness, ever a guide to you. Still the distant sounds of battle and shuddering of the vessel, but it isn't over for you yet. The Omnissiah must still have plans for you, sitting up in pain but by a cursory check no serious injuries. A praise-worthy outcome considering how nearly you came to death at the hands of the beastly xeno, and by what grace you only happened to prevail.
The triumph of true and just technology, over false and foul tech heresy! Or at least that's what you give prayer in thanks for...
<span class="mu-b">"Some light please, Meri."</span>
The blast from the malfunctioning xenos scrap-apparatus rendered most of the repurposed living quarters unrecognizable. Such damage done to the ship that it's a wonder you weren't all ejected out into the void, when through the lingering smoke and fire and destruction, you can make out other decks both above and below. Needless to say that functions such as power have been interrupted, and while you could navigate through the room by glow of the residual fires about the area... in order to search for anything you need a light.
<span class="mu-g">"-izzzs that [-kch-] yzzzou... Maven? You [-kch-] szzzurvived?"</span>
<span class="mu-b">"Master Voss!"</span>
Stumbling through the wreckage of the workshop, you search for what you can... anything remaining in function or use after the xeno attack. A familiar voice through the low light comes as such a relief though, that you forget your priestly composure and hurry as best you can through the scene of destruction. Reaching the far end of the chamber beyond the reach of the blast, the small shrine to the Omnissiah which remains illuminated by the faint glow from the vessel's auxiliary power.
Up and against the base of the shrine has your mentor propped himself, assumedly after having survived the beyond the blast and dragged himself over. The relief you think is mutual, as he too had feared your demise in the fight with the alien. But your relief is short lived when you fall by his side and get a clear sight of his condition. Rasping for breath and barely able to vocalize, though he clings to life you wouldn't imagine him to survive. Not without significant medical attention, not after basically being torn in half by the xeno. How much of his crimson robes are doubly-stained by blood, you aren't sure but if it's comparable to the dark oil from his bionics soaking him and spreading across the floor...
<span class="mu-g">"Well dzzzone... appr- [-kch-] -prentice... forge [-kch-] daughter, wzzzell done..."</span>
Whether or not he is fully aware of the severity of his condition, you're distressed that he doesn't seem to mind. Some peace in his state at seeing you alive and well, and to have served the Machine God well. Fighting with tears, you grip at his remaining biological hand in hopes of finding what to say or what to do... or at least finding the strength for it.
>[Write-in.] The will of the Omnissiah is...
