Editing Story:Another Continuation of LCB (section)

===Chapter Seventeen===

Ysukin saw the glazed over look in Liivi's eye and was quick to infer what was happening. “Nevermind that question. You probably can’t answer it yet.”

Silence. "No."

The large eldar seemed surprised. He cocked an eyebrow. "No?"

"No. I must answer that question."

"Some questions take time to answer."

"It is a simple question."

"Often, those take the longest."

"This one should not."

"What if it should?"

"But I know it shouldn't."

"You were told to believe it shouldn't. You were told there was only one answer, and that it should come instantly. And you were likely told this through the language of pain. But did they ever persuade you?"

"Persuade?"

The Eldar didn't miss a beat. "Did they make an appeal to logic? Explain why? Justify the statement? When did they prove the truth or value of their Dictum?"

Familiar words, but not ones he had heard used together. Actions could be justified through logic. He had been asked to justify himself in the past, to explain the reason for certain actions. And that's what they were: explanations were things for actions. They talked about tangible, physical realities - things which were true - to reach a conclusion. Why would they be anything more? After all, the Vindicare Dictum was true by definition, unquestionably so. Such obviousness demanded no explanation, only punishment for failure to grasp it. There was no debating whether the Dictum was satisfied - it was, or it was not. The Dictum was a matter of fact - material, physical conditions to be met. Explanations were not used to used to discern or verify facts beyond the material.

But why couldn't they be?

It was an alien idea. Strange. But intuitive. Past events seemed clearer. Liivi could see what the big Eldar was getting at.

An iron bulkhead, long since sealed by the Vindicare temple, had sprung a leak.

"When you say "persuade" do you mean the utilization of verbal coercion techniques to non-violently compel a target to submit?"

Ysukin smiled, some mixture of amusement and curiosity. "Tell me more."

----

The sound of feet walking over sand.

It was coming from her left. A sinister presence. It made her stomach churn.

She didn’t have to look to know what it was.

The Farseer did not turn to face it. She stayed sitting, eyes closed, uttering only a few words in response to its intrusion.

“What was it that I said last time, daemon?”

“Dooooooon’t even know what you’re talkin’ about there, honey. And it’s daemon<u>ette</u>, thank you.”

“You will not disturb my meditations.”

“Yeah, about that: don’t you think it’s all just a real fuckin’ laugh? I mean, the only one who showed you the least bit of empathy, and look at what you let happen to her?! Fuckin’ <u>damn</u> Taldeer, oh honey, are you even trying anymore?”

“You can leave, or I can banish you. You have no power here, daemon.”

“Pffffft, banish me? Go ahead and try, sweetheart. I <u>left</u> last time.”

In a fluid and tranquil motion, the Farseer stood to face her enemy, eyes glowing with warp fire. But the daemonette merely smiled. “That supposed to sca-,” she tensed, eyes staring somewhere past the farseer.

The daemonette frowned. In her voice was a level of cold, irate, contempt that only a daemon could produce. “Don’t think I’m afraid of you, bitch. I’m not.” Wearing a leering scowl, she faded away.

“''Victory.''” Breathing a hearty sigh of relief, Taldeer resumed her seat. The ocean seemed impossible to read. Every kind of potential flickered on the horizon. A honed mind would be needed to deal with this mess. So it was that she closed her eyes, and resumed her meditation.

Somewhere in the distant storm, a rogue wave smothered another.

----

"The Dictum Vindicare states that commanding officers will often not understand how to best accomplish their objective, and offer unsound tactical advice. Ensuring the objective is met takes priority over following their orders. To make the commanding officer submit and prevent the eruption of hostilities, vindicare and their Handlers are to use verbal coercion techniques."

Ysukin nodded slowly. "Tell me about these techniques." There was something about his air that seemed peculiarly inviting. So sincere that only one who had carefully studied the expressions of humans would notice it for the finely calculated mimicry that it was. Too real to be real, made stranger by the fact the mimic was a xenos. It put the vindicare on edge.

"Explain your interest."

Tanlon nodded deferentially. The game was up. “I suppose I should make my intentions clear. Liivi, Gilfavor has ordered that I interview you. I cannot force you to answer any of my questions. But the more you answer, and answer truthfully, the better I will be able to help you. I know you can be a very valuable asset to my people, and I am willing to advocate for you - but you have to prove that you will be willing to help us. In exchange for your services, we can harbor you and see to your care. There would be others like you. Most craftworlds have small communities of other races, who offer their services and information in exchange for protection.

Does that sound agreeable? Would you be willing to work with me?”

“Would they listen to a Fire Dragon?”

“Even with my word, you will still have to go through the system. But yes, I have the appropriate credentials, and my advocacy will make a difference. Before I was a Fire Dragon, I was an intelligence analyst and later an interviewer specializing in humans.”

Liivi contemplated the proposal.

“The Farseer clearly intends to return home," he added. “If you refuse to cooperate, I cannot imagine they would permit you to stay aboard Ulthwe. You saved our Farseer’s life, so we will extract you - we will not leave you to die. But your stay would be temporary. After resolving whatever medical issues you may have, you would be deposited on a rim world. It is possible that the Farseer may visit you, should she deign to. But you would not be able to accompany her.”

This gave him pause. He did not know how many lies, if any, had just been told. But he knew there was one truth among them. It was the only one that mattered. Liivi had no choice.

Taldeer was going home.

He gave his response after a brief silence. “Your credentials are… convenient… but I will cooperate.”

“You bring up a reasonable concern. I will not dismiss it." He sat down, and invited the vindicare to sit next to him. "I want you to trust me. You see Liivi, I was a Ranger once. The Path of the Outcast is not terribly uncommon, and if an outcast returns, military intelligence is usually a natural progression, given his experience with other races. But most of those who become rangers cannot stay satisfied in desk jobs. I could not. I wanted to do something new: so I chose to work with explosives. It is precision work, but in a different sense.

Finding somebody like me out here is not so surprising. And even if you still doubt my story, you can trust that the advocacy of Farseer Taldeer is significant, should she choose to offer it. I think it more likely than not. So trust her, if not me.

Does that assuage your fears? You only stand to gain by cooperating.”

“I have only one choice.”

"Which is?"

"To cooperate."

"Why one choice?"

"If I am to protect the primary, I must accompany her."

"I'd very much like to understand why you seek to protect her."

"There is nothing to be explained. It is like the Dictum. It is the correct course of action." 

"''Like'' the Dictum? So the reason is separate from it?" 

"No. It must be supported by the Dictum."

"How?"

"I do not know."

"Then why do you act as you do?"

"Because I know it to be true."

"How?"

"When I fail to adhere to the dictum, a sensation appears. The thought of harm befalling Primary Taldeer offers a similar sensation."

Ysukin raised his eyebrows and his eyes widened slightly. It was more restrained, but Liivi had definitely seen it before. He had seen it on a Fire Dragon who was defusing munitions - immediately before they detonated, killing the eldar warrior. The vindicare didn't have to fire a single round.

"Well, Liivi, you may very well be a case study."

"What does that mean?"

"You are significant and worth examining. My professional interest is certainly piqued, at least."

"Which is good?"

"Yes. Very."

Silence.

"Tell me about your verbal coercion techniques."

"The techniques of the handler and the vindicare are different. I justify my actions by citing the Dictum and why it will work. The handler uses a diversity of tools to compel submission. Over time I noticed they correlated with the emotional state of the commanding officer, the rank, and many other factors."

"Yes. That is called persuasion by most people. I suppose I should not be surprised you were never taught the word. Can you justify the Dictum to me, Liivi?"

"The Dictum requires no justification."

"Why?"

"It would need to be justified if it did."

"Hm." Ysukin scratched his chin as he thought. "We can work on that in time. You're clearly intelligent enough to outsmart your masters and start thinking independently, so provided the right tools, you could deconstruct that block. Your social intelligence is actually rather remarkable. The vindicare I encountered struggled to hold even a basic conversation. You read others very effectively. And can no doubt placate them well. I wonder if your masters even realized you were slipping out from beneath their fingers?"

"You have talked with other vindicare and lived?"

"Only a handful. Your Temple is perhaps the most numerous, and our lives are long. Opportunities present themselves eventually. I, as part of a team, questioned five that we captured. We could not extract much information, but I understand that they did make useful bargaining chips. Their inquisitors wanted them back.” A pause. "Liivi, would you mind extending your arm for me? Without the suit. It very much seems like you'll be coming up with us, and I should test you for any infectious agents."

While the vindicare removed his suit to expose his arm, the Fire Dragon stood up, making sure to hunch just enough to conceal his sizeable frame. Liivi glanced up at him. The scorpions made some gestures to Ysukin. and he made some strange gesture in return. Barroth and Elnys looked at one another, then at Liivi, then back at Ysukin. He strolled over to the foxhole which hid the medic, got on a knee, parted the blanket with one arm and stuck in his head - he couldn't fit much more in. The Fire Dragon jumped slightly, then had a brief exchange with the medic which was, of course, totally incomprehensible. When he reemerged, he held a small wraithbone cylinder.

As he sat down next to the vindicare, the eldar was surprised once more. "Is she okay," Liivi asked?

"You care?"

"The Primary does." He extended his arm.

Ysukin thought about this, then shrugged, pressing the cylinder against Liivi's skin. Some runes flickered on its top.

"Excellent," he said.

"I'm clean?"

"Of polymorphine, yes. Of infectious agents, probably. I don't know how to operate this, and our precious medic is now fast asleep, Isha bless her. I caught her just in time for her to set the appropriate test." He looked over to the two scorpions and said something the vindicare couldn't understand. They lowered their guns.

He didn't even notice the two draw their pistols. This gave Liivi pause. Eventually he took his eyes off the pair, who indifferently ignored his gaze, and looked back at Ysukin.

"You suspected I was a Callidus?"

"Yes. I apologize for lying to you about the test. You've been suspiciously socially capable. I'm sure you understand the necessity of deception."

"Affirmative." A momentary gap in the conversation. "Is your medic okay?"

"Why do you care about her condition if you only care about Taldeer's feelings?"

"She can heal Taldeer." A pause. "And she makes Taldeer happy."

Ysukin looked as though he was going to say something, but decided against it. Instead, he sat for a moment, then looked up at the vindicare. "She'll make it if we do. Right now, she's in higher spirits than she ought to be. Which is good, I suppose. And what I expected. Those lost on their path are rather positive in grim situations. So many insist that they are not lost - they are precisely where they want to be. I think they have forgotten what it means to be lost."

"I'm not sure I understand. Lost on their path?"

"We Eldar follow paths - you might think of them like temples. They are ways of living and associated sets of skills and knowledge. We devote ourselves to mastering them, and then we move forward to another path. Some fail to leave their paths, victims of a sort of obsession that humans can scarcely imagine. The form it takes varies, but in dangerous work, it often leads to their death. Those unfortunate souls are lost twice. But all of them are lost because they cannot escape their obsession. And it is that same breed of obsession which birthed the Great Enemy." He sighed deeply as he looked past Liivi, back at the foxhole.

"I do worry about that girl. Perhaps you'd think her old. She's tens of your terran decades. But she's young enough to be my daughter. She reminds me too much of my daughter. Similar ages, similar temperaments. Yet the thing's she's seen... I don't know if it's her optimism, or simply a virtue of being lost. But that girl has volunteered to walk through hell repeatedly. It may take help. It may take time. But she always comes out smiling.

It terrifies me. And there's nobody I'd rather have operating on me than her."

Liivi was silent. He wasn't sure what to say.

Ysukin gestured toward Taldeer with his head. "You want to protect the Farseer over there?"

"I do."

"Then you have your work cut out for you. She's exactly as lost on her path as the girl who just had her legs blown off. She is going to shove herself into hopeless situations in order to turn them in our favor. She is going to do things that are beyond stupid because she thinks she knows better, and most of the time it will miraculously work simply because of what she is. Of course, talent helps. And talent is expected from her in particular. Taldeer Ulthran has some very, very large shoes to fill. The weight of expectation is heavy upon her, and no doubt she will go to great lengths to carry that burden.

You can still run."

"I won't."

"Well then, let us resume my questioning. I think have a decent picture of who you are. Let's do some more basic questions. What is your age?"

“Memories before the Handler acquired me are fuzzy. I do not know. My age should be near 25 Terran Years.”

“Understandable. Do you have any reason to suspect you may have been mind wiped at any point?”

“It is possible. Selective memory deletion is likely. Beyond that - no.”

“Tell me about your handler. You had a single one throughout your life?”

“No. I have had three. I have not had contact with the Handler as of three weeks.”

“And your relationships with these handlers?”

“They would supply information, supplies, and discipline as necessary.”

“I am afraid your evaluators will want more detail than that for purposes of trauma diagnosis, but it sounds like standard Imperial training methods. All stick, no carrot. I suspect I know the answer, but: what was your last mission?”

“...Primary: Farseer. Objective: Assassination.”

Ysukin paused. The corners of his lips bent slightly into a suppressed smile. “So you are not merely a defector. Nor was your encounter by chance. You have acted in direct violation of your mission objective?”

“Correct.”

“Then you are certainly a case study. Who assigned this mission?”

“Lieutenant Ardrin, representing Governor Militant Lukas Alexander.”

“Was there ever a situation where you felt hesitation?”

“...”

“Liivi?” 

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