A moment has passed and, somehow, she was not shot. Which, all things considered, was rather positive turn of events - then again, the spiritual progeny of Arabella the Liberator were cited to be among the more calculating, level-headed specimens of the Sororitas strain. Maybe this Celestian has been tranquil enough to process something that others would take as a foul sacrilege. Maybe she was just smart enough to have learned and admitted the truth beforehand.

Toros grabbed a fistful of plastic chips from the floor, glancing down from the broken window and recounting the facts. Every single hard fact dropped down heavily, like a chunk of plastic from the forge spire.

Tiefenbronn came to her, arranging a series of meetings between her and Draupnir magi.
Someone deployed a servitor on Ork chassis, outfitted it with a tinkered displacer field and a bolter.
Bolt shell managed to hit her - through a displacer field of her own, through her layers of defense. 
Pinel sported new tech-secret, likely having given out something in return to unnamed third party.
Servitor made a point of stealing away her personal data cores. 
Then it paid a visit to her laboratorium and made a mess.

Oh, and the Inquisition is looking for her, but those could wait. That exact chip got blasted by the wind gust back into the room.

Displacer fields and misplaced trust played a sad melody throughout those notes. How can it teleport? How far, how often, can it be tracked? How can a bolter shell bypass one? What was she doing before the death of her body? Was she wrong to confide after Tiefebronn's meetings? Unfortunately, there was only one person qualified to answer that.

Toros bit her lip harder, as she blink-typed a data-missive of two alike, yet deeply different questions. 
"[i]May I visit you? Do you want to see me?[/i]"

She paused a bit before sending the message to the Electromancer's dojo. Having decided that, frag it, let's go with the flow, she mashed the confirmation rune a bit too hard.