[@Jeddaven][@Erezrim]

The Magos and the Sister, so far apart that they were - to the mindof Edmund at least - like parts of some joke from Old Terra. Formidatus, the diminutive and oddly (for a member of the Mechanicus) rotund Genetor, and Sister Agathe... well... honestly he had seen smaller Space Marines in his time! Oh yes, they were the beginnings of some jest, but Edmund could not quite put his finger on it at that moment.

"Welcome, both of you," spoke the Trader, reaffirmed most handily by a dashing smile and the reveal of perfect white teeth, his hands sweeping up into first the sign of the cog and then blending into that of the aquila, "I trust you have both found your time aboard thus far to be a pleasant one?"

He stepped jauntily out from behind the lectern, leaving his dataslate and peaked hat on its surface, moving to stand a little closer to the two foremost arrivals.

"I must say, Magos, that your recommendation of Bronithian grox bone broth has done wonders for me," outwardly he sounded as kind and happy as possible, but as usual the more he looked upon the mating of bionics and flesh that was Dahti the further his mind turned to other thoughts, "and I am assuredly blessed by this regimen, keeping my body and mind as sharp as my sabre, hah."

[I]But it [b]is[/b] my body, mine, not some fusion of metal and meat, I have had to earn my body and you... you have done nothing... nothing but 'upgrade' yourself.[/I]

Keeping the inner thoughts from his eyes, a trick he had learnt from one of his less diplomatic brothers, he swept his gaze over to the utterly different Sister of Battle who accompanied them at present. She was in every way what the Magos was not, being built like a transhuman killing machine without (as far as he knew) any of the augmentations of the Astartes. Edmund could only wonder at what they had fed her during her time at the schola to grow her that large.

"Sister Agathe," he said, this time his smile most genuine, for although he had no aggression toward the Mechanicus - far from it! -  he spoke now to a pure human... even if she were a little more fanatical than some, "I do hope that Nyla will be spared further sickness, Alsan and his wife have suffered enough hardship without the loss of another child."

One hand brushed itself over his cheek briefly, Edmund pondering briefly how even he, a man who stood at six Terran feet and two inches, had to crane his neck to speak with the blunt visor before him.

"May I ask, have you thought any more about what I asked?"

It had been over two months now, two months since coming to the aid of the Sister and liberating her from her own last stand, and in the meantime he had asked her whether she would like to rejoin her own warrior brethren or remain aboard as he did what Rogue Traders did best.

"What I have, on that slate yonder," one hand gestured to the lectern and the vital document resting atop it, "may change your mind one way or another. You just need to understand, as I am sure you do, that should you choose to stay you will be - much like the Magos here - bound to this dynasty by oath and more in the eyes of He on Terra and His servants."