It took Secunda a couple of seconds to process everything at once.

First of all, Inquisitrix seemed to leave no return route for the missives sent to the data terminal. Classic paranoia, using burner one-way-send-only disposable tech-djinnis, made Polla irritatingly hard to find. Which, Secunda assumed, was the whole point of being a paranoid trigger-happy spymaster - always maintaining an element of surprise even at a cost of convenience, courtesy, or simple common sense. Even the old comm-link got fried. Stupid insignia-wearing promethium-chugger, as somebody less rarified than a Magina might have called them, since Toros, of course, would not deign herself to acknowledge such trivial aspects of their existence. 

Secondly, the lights are out for everyone. Everyone is fuming, running on fumes, feeling powerless, and imagining themselves some strange dangerous things scurrying in the dark. Technically, they were not even [i]wrong[/i] for at least one thing has been doing exactly that. Secunda was planning to become another one on the shortest possible notice.

Thirdly, there was Kota who successfully resisted Secunda's attempts at parsing her affiliations or political angle. The trivial solution of "there is none" proved to be one assumption too dangerous to make so far. Secunda tilted her head to the side, glancing at Sororitas operative again.

"Soror, fighting orks and living to tell the tale is... pretty much expected level of excellence for your esteemed Order.", Magina fired up the data terminal again, poking at the runes, trying to second-guess her prior self. "Unfortunately for your lost colleagues, this one is not an ork. It's likely to be just an ork body, armed and puppeted by someone exceedingly smart and well-connected. An artisan-crafted combat servitor, if you will. I hypothesize the massacre of your sorority to have been its combat testing exercise, the dry run of its capabilities before deploying the accursed thing against me."

Secunda slowly considered finding the Inquisitrix regardless, but, in a flash of brilliance, decided that checking the Inquisitorial missive in the data-terminal would have been a wiser step. Might as well figure out who else wrote her during her temporary incapacitation.

[b][No spend so far, I have enough datapoints to poke at][/b]