“Fraking chill you spive toffs…” Sel mumbled as she came back to consciousness. For a moment she thought she was running across rock in her sentinel but then she realized it was merely the pounding in her head.  Well not merely. It fracking hurt. Something seized her head and yanked it back and bright lights burned into her eyes. She groaned in pain and tried to twist away but her legs and wrists were lashed. Nausea coiled in her guts and she struggled not to vomit. Fortunately her electrecuted abdominal muscles refused to tense. Yep everything was coming up Seldon.

“Save your breath scum,” someone with lho scented breath said from just off to her left. Sel lashed out with her forehead and was rewarded with a satisfying impact and scream of pain. The clash made her head spin and toppled her over. Judging by the wrenching at her writs she was tied to a chair. She tensed as a series of blows, kicks by the feel of them, battered her head and chest. Amazingly her flack vest was still on and soaked the worst of the blows. Pain ripped through her head as someone grabbed her by the hair and dragged her upright, the chair rocking as it settled. Sel spat blood and forced her memories into somthing like a proper order.

“You will regret that bitch!” someone snarled. Abruptly the lights lowered and Sel could make out the room around her. She was in a drawing room, tied to a chair that probably cost more credits than she had seen in her entire life. The room was respelendent with marble, the ceterpiece an impressive carved desk that was too neat to be regularly used. Three members of Lady Arsenault’s militia stood before her, the Captain, Joachim, and what was probably supposed to be a sergeant. Any Guard seargeant would be ashamed to be suckered by a headbutt like that, and he obviously felt the shame as he clutched his lip and stared at her hatefully.

“What the frak is going on here,” she muttered, tugging at her bonds. They seemed to be some kind of polymerized rope and were fastened securely, fortunately they were also slick and she was able to work some slack into her ankles at least.

“We are asking the questions? Why did you murder Savant Bosk?” Joachim demanded, staying far enough back that Sel couldn’t spit on him. She tried anyway, the Uplifting Primer suggested that the effort itself was noble, the bloodied spit landed a few feet short of his boot but perhaps it pleased Him on Earth none the less.

“Who? The old man in the library? I never touched him, just found him before you showed up and zapped me. You are lucky it wasn’t Sergeant Crispin, he would have fed you your own arms,” she blustered.

[i]“Corpral Seldon, where in the Throne’s name are you?”[/i] Sergeant Crispin’s voice came through her vox bead, triggered by his name. Emperor’s teeth they were amateurs. That made it all the more galling that they had managed to get the drop on her but in her defense she had been dealing with a partially disarticulated savant.


“A likely story, you were found over the body, you conveniently found the bodies of your dead comrades, we are supposed to believe that is some kind of coincidence?” 

“Look I don’t know what you people are thinking, but I never expected to be abducted by Lady Arsenault’s goons,” Sel replied.

[i]“Abducted? What are you talking about?”[/i] Crispin’s voice demanded on her vox. Joachim stepped up and slapped her hard across the face.

"Did you see me with a weapon, you think I did tall dark and nerdy with my bayonet?" she demanded, "thrones above you are the worst investigators ever."

"You watch your tongue serf or we shall have it pulled out!" Joachim snapped, his face pinched with anger. Sel was about to say that this would make it hard for her to answer anymore question but decided against further goading the aristocrats.

“Look I’m sure you just contact Lord Caradwalden he would be happy to straighten everything out,” Sel tried. She suspected he would be more than happy to straighten out any number of these parade ground soldiers once he found out they were abducting his people. Instantly she knew she had miscalculated as Joachim gave the Captain a withering look. 

“Yes I’m sure your lover would be more than happy to beg the Baroness to spare you,” Joachim sneered.

“My what?!” Sel demanded.

[i]“Your what?”[/i] Crispin’s voice echoed unhelpfully in the vox. For the love of Terra could the man just not get a squad in here and pull her ass out of the fire? Why was she the only competent soldier in the entire frakking Imperial Guard?


“We are wasting our time here, she was caught red handed, let us execute her and be done,” the captain said loftily. Joachim nodded his agreement and reached for a side arm.

“I couldn’t agree more,” Joachim agreed. Crispin was yelling in her vox now but there was no time to pay attention to that, she was also rather exercised about how events were transpiring.

“Wait wait wait!” Sel yelped in alarm, “hold on, I will confess! I just have one question!”


“Oh?” Joachim asked, “and what is that serf?” Sel let her head sag forward and mumbled something unintelligible. Joachim stepped forward, pistol in hand, leaning down to her level.

“What was that?” he asked, eyes narrow with hate.

“I said… why do you want to lose your teeth?” she snarled and leaped to her feet, driving the crown of her head into his chin. It was a mighty blow, the full force of her powerful legs beneath it, chin tucked in to make her spine into a ram with its point of impact right on the point of the aristocrats chin. Joachim’s teeth clacked shut like a gun shot and he staggered back, blood spurting from his face. Sel kicked the gun as it fell and the powerful las bolt cracked into a wall. Screaming at the top of her lungs she charged at the door, still tied to the chair. Her shoulder hit the panel and it flew open and she tumbled through. The sergeant was screaming curses and charging after her. Sel twisted on the ground and kicked the door closed, slamming it into the man's face with another satisfying crack. She kicked again and again until the door slammed and latched. The impact had knocked the vox bead out of her hear but there was no time to try and pick it up. Awkwardly she rolled to her feet and bolted down the hallway, the chair still lashed to her wrist and thighs, hoping that she could find some guardsmen before she ran into more of the Baroness’ guard.