The trembling man shivered in the rain pulling his fire scorched uniform around him. There seemed to be burns around his eyes, red and weeping sera but he didn't seem to have noticed them. The one over his right eye appeared to be in the rough shape of the sigil of the Universal Church. The soldier glanced around in shock as though he couldn't truly believe he was still alive. 

"The Sister, she had us stopped here, waiting for the shooting to start," he began stammering through the sentence. He made a vague gesture towards the west where the distant spire of the church could be seen even through the rain by the illumination in its stained glass window.

"I was... watching my sector and the corporal... Pancreator save me..."

"You will need your cursed Pancreator if you don't get on with it!" Ragnar snapped. Orion shot him a quelling glance but it seemed to brace the soldier up somewhat.

"The cororal says four guys in black came out of the woods, and they were saying something to the Priest and then... and then they were screaming, screaming and burning and my eyes were locked on the stained glass window and I couldn't turn away, then I heard the big MG70 on the main truck open up, I dont know if it hit anything but all of a sudden it got real cold and ... and I don't remember after that," the soldier trailed off. After a moment he began to weep babbling about the Pancreator and the cold. 

Scanning the area Orion's augmented eye traced where gunfire had churned the earth to a body clad in black and up until then unnoticed in the rainy gloom. Ragnar jumped down and strode over to the body seizing the dead woman by the hair and hauling her up for Orion's inspection. Her face was familiar, though glanced only out of the corner of an eye as one of the hangers on during their brief audience with the duke earlier in the day. Her eyes hadn't been completely black back then however.

"Black Magic," Ragnar repeated disapprovingly, his ominous words punctuated by the crack of lightning overhead.

_________________________________

Annika woke with a start, gasping for air as she remembered the feeling of dark black energy, cold as the void and hot as the fading suns pouring down her throat. Instinctively she grabbed for the holy symbol she wore around her neck but her hand was snapped short by something hard and metallic almost as soon as she began to move, a rattle of chains confirming what the cuffs on her wrist had already presaged. Her eyes opened onto blackness and felt a momentary rush of claustrophobic dread at the thought she had been buried alive. 

"Ah, you are awake," came a familiar voice from out of her field of view. Two luminator lamps lit, filling the air with a harsh white light that someone managed to be even more unpleasant than the darkness had been. Annika blinked her eyes, sneezing at the rapid change in illumination and then looked around. She appeared to be on a stone bier chained at wrist and ankles with archaic cuffs with silver chains that ran down to bolts in the floor. A circle with strange symbols hand been carefully scribed around her in what looked to be some kind of reflective paint. Above here were the familiar arches that formed the basis of all theological architecture and she was instantly able to orient herself as being in the nave of a church, even though the illumination hardly seemed to pierce more than a few feet in any direction. The alter should be behind her somewhere but a prickle in the back of her neck warned her that she didn't want to try to hard to look at it.

Annika realized how cowl had been removed but she was otherwise fully clothed and apparently unharmed. With a shock she remembered that Orion was depending on her to come to his aid. She heaved at her chains with all her might but she might as well have tried to push a mountain for all the good it did her. Defeated physically she lashed out with her mind, though the intent of the psychic emanation was uncertain even to her. The lights dimmed and the paint seemed to shimmer but nothing else happened.

"Careful, you dont want to do yourself an injury," the voice said with supreme lack of concern. Annika turned her head, her normally coiled braid flopping to the side as she did so. It was Engel. The Dukes Chamberlain was once again dressed in his courtly best, though he was carefully applying make up of some sort to conceal some sort of burn or disfiguration on his wrists. 

"The Pancreator will curse you Apostate," she snapped, struggling once again against her chains, trying not to think of Orion being borne down under a tide of Vuldrock. Engel yawned theatrically and stood up walking over towards her without crossing the edge of the circle. He smiled down at it proudly.

"Rather good work don't you think, amazing what you can find in old books isn't it," Engel gloated. Annika glared at him but didn't dignify it with a response.

"Why am I here," she said in a voice as cold as ice. Engel arched an eyebrow.

"Right to business, no threats of being burned at the stake, no dire warnings of the Pancreators displeasure, no litany of curses for heretics?" Engel asked.

"That is all implied," she said between gritted teeth. Engel laughed delightedly and bowed in courtly fashion to her, palms pressed together after the al-Malik custom. He straightened and sobered.

"As it happens you are here to serve one of two purposes," he explained, then paused as if considering.

"I'm no fan of melodrama, this isn't a join us or die speech, but I would very much like you to join us," he explained and Annika could tell he meant it. She wondered if it was because she had managed to kill one of his confederates or if there were some other motivation. He held up a hand to forestall a response.

"Before you answer, please don't bore me with platitudes about how you are too pure to dabble in forbidden secrets, we both know that isn't true. There are other powers in the universe Annika, powers that reward their followers in this life as well as the next," he continued smuggly. Annika felt a spike of shame and worked to keep it from her face. He was right that she had strayed beyond the Orthodox teachings more enthusiastically than most but she had always told herself it was for the Pancreators glory and not her own.

"Where is Orion?" she demanded and Engel's eyebrow rose.

"Not Sir Pentecost, so informal already? How very al-Malik of you Sister," he tutted, then his face hardened.

"I'm afraid Sir Orion Pentecost is a captive of the Vuldrok Star Nation," he explained simperingly.

"It seems his plan rather depended on getting some help that never arrived, a pity really," Engel said and Annika felt another stab of panic and shame. Orion had depended on her and she had failed, now he might be worse than dead.

"Of course if you were willing to consider my offer, perhaps I could prevail upon my Vuldrok friends to release him unharmed, if not... well a famously unpredictable people the Vuldrok," Engel pretended to lament, his hateful smile sharp as a knife in the luminator light. Annika cursed silently.

"Think it over, I have other business to attend to, then I'll be back to discuss you answer," Engel told her, running his fingers through his dark hair to smooth it. 

"What is the second purpose," she asked as he began to turn away. Engel looked back over his shoulder.

"I already implied I don't like melodrama Annika, this isn't the part where I tell you my evil plan. Think on my offer, and think on what might happen to your Knight if you refuse." With that he turned and extinguished the luminator, plunging the room into darkness filled with the echos of his retreating footsteps.