As the highest priority target, Dietrian's shuttle was the first escape device to leave the impending destruction of the Cursed Echo.
Slaves and bishops, as well as 24 servants and robed crew members, all watched holographic projections that served as tactical maps and eyeball displays.
Unlike Echo's holographic image, Dietrian's image flashed watery and from time to time, making Septimus's eyes painful.
Fortunately, once his bionic device started functioning, it made the pain go away and helped resolve some of the flickering interference.
Only then did Septimus realize that it was a projection designed to be seen by prosthetic eyes.
The ship was round in shape, like a bloated beetle, but it was covered with defensive turrets, and almost three-quarters of its length was given to drive engines and subspace engines.
Bulkheads separated these areas of the ship from habitable areas, and Septimus saw several Mechanicus wearing breath masks entering and exiting the engine deck.
The whole ship was packed to the point of going crazy.
To make room for the ship's armor, weapons systems, and propulsion systems, each tunnel is a narrow walkway, and each bay is a squat box that houses basic systems and enough space for an operator. use.
The command deck was the most spacious place in the entire ship, and even then there wasn't much room to move around if eight people were present at the same time.
Septimus watched as the ship's identifier pulsed across an asteroid, where it had hidden itself from xenos scans.
On that flashing water screen, the rune representing the Echo was just a small dot among a pile of angry signals.
"The Echo is coming soon, they will make it."
Just as Septimus finished speaking, he heard footsteps behind him and turned around.
Apothecary Valiel stepped in, his armor's joints making noise with every movement.
"Tell me what happened."
The pharmacist demanded, as calmly as ever.
"The Eldar don't seem to know we're here."
Septimus' eyes returned to the holographic screen.
"I'm not asking the Eldar, tell me about the cursed echo, stupid mortal."
Septimus smiled gracefully to hide his embarrassment. After all, his mistake was so obvious.
"They will succeed, Lord Valiel."
The Apothecary had no sense of the use of honorifics, just as Septimus had used honorifics many times or never, and such a thing meant nothing to him.
Valere knew what Septimus meant by success.
Curse the Echo's inevitable death.
"Shall I assume that we will be leaving soon?"
The pharmacist turned to the Mechanical Bishop and asked softly.
Dietrian nodded, trying his best to imitate the movements of a human around his neck.
But the neck wasn't designed to curve in this subtle way, there was something locked at the top of his spine, and he had to take a moment to let the spinal connection relax.
"That's what I said."
Valiel walked over to where Septimus stood and observed the hologram for himself.
"what is that?"
He pointed to another runic symbol.
"that……"
Septimus walked to the helmsman's console and tapped a few buttons to adjust the holographic display.
"...It's the Empire's orbital defense station."
Valier said nothing, which was not surprising to Septimus.
The pharmacist's pale blue eyes blinked. As he looked at the holographic image of the shattered orbital station, the cursed echo was so close to it.
He leaned over to enlarge the photo.
"It was a particularly satisfying kill."
"Yes, sir."
Valier glanced at Septimus with uneasy eyes.
After nearly a decade of service with the Eighth Legion, Septimus often thought nothing could shake his courage again, but it seemed Valier's eyes were a rare exception.
"What’s wrong with you?"
the pharmacist asked.
"Your heart rate is up, and you're radiating a moronic agitation."
Septimus tilted his head toward the screen.
"I've spent most of my adult life serving the Legion, and without that, I wouldn't even know who I am."
"Yes, yes, it's fascinating."
The pharmacist turned to Dietrian again.
"Mechanic Bishop, there is one thing that can relieve my boredom. I want to listen to the Eldar's communications. Can you hack into their signals?"
"Of course."
Dietrian unfolded his two support legs so that they were hunched over his shoulders to work on a separate console.
"But I don't have the ability to translate the pronunciation of the Eldar language."
This caused Valier to laugh.
"Really? I thought you were smarter."
"A mechanical exarch has more pressing matters to attend to than the mumbling antics of a hapless alien."
"No need to be angry."
Valier gave a brief, albeit fake, smile.
"I speak several Eldar dialects, just listen to the signal if you can."
Dietrian paused before pulling the last lever.
"Can you explain your mastery of foreign languages?"
"There is nothing to explain, venerable Bishop, I do not like ignorance and when the opportunity to learn arises I will seize it."
He looked at the robed Mechanicus.
"Do you think the Red Corsairs only fight against corrupt empires? No, we have fought against the Eldar countless times, not without prisoners, and guess who got the information from them through torture."
"I see."
Dietrian accepted the answer and once again tried to fake a nod.
His spine is made of various precious metals, plus pieces of ceramic, making clicking sounds with movement.
As Dietrian gripped the control stick, the bridge was filled with alien whispers and distorted by distorted crackles.
Valiel said a word of thanks and turned his attention back to the holographic screen.
Septimus stood with him, his attention alternating between the unfolding battle and Valiel's pale face.
"Stop looking at me."
Valere said after a minute.
"You're getting more and more annoying."
"I'm sorry, my lord, but what are the Eldar talking about?"
Valier listened for another half minute and didn't seem to pay much attention.
"They were talking in three dimensions, likening the movements of the warships to ghosts and beasts of the sea. It was all very poetic, but mundane and worthless. There were no casualties reported, and there were no Eldar captains among them. The scream of a lost soul."
Septimus suddenly understood what Valier was really hearing.
First Claw was right, Valiel was indeed a member of the Eighth Legion, regardless of where his gene-seed came from.
"Wait."
The pharmacist suddenly let out a low voice of surprise, and then fell silent again.
The background was still filled with the whispers of the Eldar. Septimus took a breath and asked:
"They were in-"
Valier glared at him to silence him, and the pharmacist's pale eyes narrowed to slits and he watched intently.
The Cyborg crossed his arms over his chest and waited, hoping for an explanation but little expecting to get one.
"etc."
Valiel finally spoke, closing his eyes to better focus on the alien's words.
"Something's not right."
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