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A holding cell, Outpost D'Souza, Akabat.

The silence was broken by heavy footsteps.

Matrim Cauthon looked around in distaste at the temporary 'arrangements'. The Order didn't have enough time to make a proper holding cell, and this particular one was just an improvisation of a cave. The cave ended in a narrow space, across which a wooden door had hastily been put. That was no protection against a strong person, and the single guard posted outside was awake, if bleary eyed. Maybe Cauthon was being too harsh, there were better things to do than guarding a prisoner of unknown intent, after all. He would remedy that, and free up some men.

The guard sprang to his feet as he approached, etching a salute. Cauthon saluted back, and simply motioned to him to open the door. While the guard was fumbling with the keys, Cauthon touched the side-arm at his side for re-assurance, before entering.

He looked around for all of five seconds. What he saw did not make him happy.

"Get this man some food" He said shortly.

After a short while, the prisoner was eating, while Cauthon stood at one side patiently. When he had finished, Cauthon nodded and leaned on a cave wall. The cave was very narrow here, he'd have to be careful.

"Morning, Prisoner. I'm Mat Cauthon, and I'll be asking you a few questions."

Looking at the prisoner's expression for a long moment, he continued.

"Basics first then. Who are you and what's your background?"

Leonard was grateful for the meal, though he had done his fair share of starving in the past. He resented... well more kicked his own ass about his better nature not "escaping" from what was a terribly improvised incarceration.

One thing was certain however. He was safe were he was. Even if the food was.. Well.. Synthpaste would be way better then the moss he had been licking off the wall.

His implant was "confiscated" so he had one eye working..

"I'm the wolf who cried shepherd. " he waited a few moments letting things digest.

"Given name is Leonard McKenna. I have a brother in bretonia at Trafalgar station whom is much older then I named James, he has the majority of my medical records. The rest is under a series of blogs and postings on the Net via Crying.Man... Did alot of hunting down slave smugglers in an old Explorer class...

The reason im in here? I suppose your newly open hostilities towards outcasts mostly, or perhaps someone higher up realized whom The Cult of Sirius is."

Cauthon studies the man intently. One-eyed, starving, and barely alive. Yet he seems coherent. The aging captain folds his arms, slightly unnerved at the intensity of his captive's stare as well as the conviction in his words. He makes a mental note to look up public databases on this man, and continues.

"Hostilities with the Outcasts were initiated with ample reason in mind, Leonard. Too many of them support and openly worship the Nomads...and I imagine the Cult you mention is at the centre of this, correct? Then you know very well why we're at odds."

Cauthon says this sternly, but not unkindly. He knows McKenna is under his power, and harsh words aren't needed at this juncture.

Leonard though on his words.. and realized... they really had no idea.. none. it was somewhat tragic.

He laughed, he didn't mean to it wasn't a short laugh it was a long one.. it felt good to do it. Mostly because he rarely ever did. He was always somber... cold. but this interrogation was as close to a real social exchange he has gotten in some time. Something he still vary much missed.

he composed himself.

"You have no idea, my friend. or rather I hope to be a friend. It was the only point in escaping. The only point in fleeing Altair.

You see, The cult of sirius has members across Sirius, many practice privately and non openly as in encouraged to devote mental prayer and meditation on the nomads and devote time to a entire black market of materials that typically are available where you can find cardamine for sale... In fact probably the most used organization for distribution of these materials... without them knowing are the Junkers.

Though my involvement was with the active arm.. the Maltese force whom adopted the name Oracles. As an Exarch I was privy to all the high-level clearance. Well before the sweeping reforms.

Because.. I was being shut out I tried my best to gather the most recent and damning changes.. things that even the most devout cultist would second guess... though by now im sure everyone's completely fine with it.."

He held a belief till now... That he was immune to most human failings.

"People, ... even nomads.. and cyborgs like me can be terribly frightened of change."

He thought a moment.

"I would like to confess all I know.. but i cant let this opportunity to go to waste.. you see.. this cave... has been like a grave to me. I have made no attempt to escape.. I have not caused harm nor harassed the guards. I give you my oath as a man scared to death of what the nomads have done and are doing that I will stay and seek service within the order.. help however I can. For i know.. anywere else I would surely die."

he coughed.

"But if you have a ship with a brig.. or anywhere more humane.. I would request being transferred there. Also.. My implants need service.. I need tools to clean the mushrooms that are undoubtedly trying to grow in my head."

He hoped for a favorable answer. he hoped he had come off sincere.. he certainly didn't feel he had anything to lose.

Cauthon listened attentively, as Leonard's voice got more and more fervent and desperate. He'd been a field captain as long as he could remember, and a very significant part of the job was ensuring that his command was....loyal. He concentrate on Leonard's facial movements, for that was where any untruth would reveal itself. Leonard started and finished...Cauthon found nothing.

The man had come of his own volition. That was a point in his favor, and scanning equipment had detected no signs of infection on him. That only left indoctrination, and Cauthon did not feel that this man was false. Not that there was any way to be sure, but it was his judgement. His hands tightened into fists, an involuntary reaction when a hard decision was to be made...he exhaled, and unclenched his fists.

"So you used to be a Gunboat Commander. If you haven't noticed, we aren't exactly in a position to reject anybody with skill, so perhaps something can be done about you."

There, the hardest part was gone. Cauthon rubbed the signet ring on his left hand, a fox startling two ravens into flight neatly engraved on it. It was an old token.

"But before you get out, you'll need to tell me all you can. About the Cult, about their dealings with the Outcast general populace and the nomads...and of course, anything you know about Altair or Nomad intentions. The more forthcoming and truthful you are, the better it will be for you."

Cauthon said the last in a steely tone, and held the other man's stare for a long moment. If there was any obfuscation in this man, it'd come out sooner or later.

he pulled himself closer into what light there was.


pointing to the expansive and what looked like highly improvised headgear most of it under skin that was looking discolored and untreated for "implant rejection"

"My cardamine is low, it keeps rejection and disease from happening to important parts ... but because my own energy is quite low a majority of the Intel your seeking is stored in unpowered sections."

he remembered the Hathor. Much more hardware then the Conference... Also much heavier. Though haven't spent many of his days on an explorer there might be little difference.

"My wetware is a little fuzzy too. This headache is three weeks old.. I don't know if foods made it better or worse.. probably the rationing of my cardamine reserve in my head. You would be surprised with how many odd and unique type of cybernetics the Maltese have developed. Much of it is for memory storage.. thier analogue capture and algorithmic synthesis are the most advanced.. I have to admit I detect the influence of alien technology there but I never proved it."

He searched his mind.. concentrating through pain and confusion. well mostly confusion..

"Im trying to summarize a lot here.. The cult is mostly harmless.. mostly they follow a twisted form of Zen a practice of making the mind more aware of itself.. suppression of hostility and fear emotions which ..truthfully bother the nomads when they sense it as far as I've observed the nomads I met never showed fear... but if you directed anger towards them it would reflect back three fold. Their psychology seems simple but.. their so complex.. I spent much time in awe of their wisdom of the human body... the mind.. "

he gave up.. he was rambling.. ... he thought what would get him out of there.. get them to trust him at least to be somewhere nicer like a hospital or a biochem lab. he wasn't kidding about the cardamine either but one stop at Rochester or Trafalgar and his brother jimmy could get him plenty.

"I know.. This should prove my loyalty.. There are three things known by the exarchs that they utter to no one.. and more importantly something Three Winds told me.. that im sure no one knows.... well No one alive."

He looked at his interrogator to make sure he was eye to eye.

"One... The slomon K'Hara were severely wounded... nearly disabled by a Daam artifact. Two.. the ones who came before the Daam k'vosh are two races. Three... There are still Daam out there, alive."

*he took a breath..*

"And three winds.. .. their new master teacher.. Is an infected being.. unlike the Wilde of Rhineland.. unique but his powers of the mind are strong.. He attempted to show me a vision of the hive mind.. " Leonard smirked

"Thanks to my implants im vary hard to reach.. but.. upon review of the memory record I caught a vision of something.. I know they did not mean to reveal.. It was a Nomad vessel so large it eclipsed the sun.. In fact The short bit i was able to get was this vessel was hidden within a great... mechanized sphere so large.. like the size of a star system. ."

he stopped. continued when he had breath.

"I confessed this to three winds.. he was surprised and shortly explained that it was something "the purge" or whatever you all did in the first war missed. He also admitted that the hive was working hard to "learn" its form... to grow it."

He hoped this confession was enough to get them moving.

"I promise as i can access more memory and data.. ill relay it write it down however you'd like I knew i would be writing reports for some time. That is if.. you guys didn't think i was completely nuts."

Leonard fell silent. A second passed. Three seconds passed. A pure, shining droplet of water descended from the roof and met it's demise with a slight clink.

To say these were bombshells would be an understatement. When he had taken up this task, Cauthon did not expect...this. Skepticism follows wonder however...and there was no way to confirm what he had said. Or maybe there was....The last, about the nomad Juggernaut, was already firmly part of the rumor mill...and he was fairly sure it was the truth. And if the nomads were trying to understand the vessel, and to grow more...God above grant mercy.

But in any case, this man could be a treasure trove of information...or misinformation. That would have to be determined. But first, he needed to get healthier.

"You'll excuse me if all this is a little hard to believe..."

Cauthon's mind was clear now. This could be one of the few opportunities to learn of the nomads from someone who had worked *with* them. The opportunity outweighed the risks.

"I'll arrange for you to be freed and prepared for life in the Order. But before, you'll need a few weeks to return to health, and in that time....you will record everything you know. I'll assign an aide to help you in this. I expect a full record, or as near as you can make it in a few weeks."

He extends a hand to McKenna. "Maybe we have been alerted in time, thanks to you."

And if your information is false, the gamble will be lost, and many lives with it. We'll see.

Leonard was absolved... he almost cried because of what "they" said to him.. they said his own kind wouldn't trust him.

"I know its scary. This was scary... they said while I drifted while they were looking for my pod you would shoot me on sight, or let me rot away.. Its not .. often someone like me with little faith in humanity.. Finds it again.. finds it in a place like this."

He was more collected now.

"Its strange.. when I was escaping.. the big one.. it reached out to me. It said. I.. "

he looked like he was going to ...weep for a moment.. but he sucked it up and finished as best he could.

"I have enough power to.. illustrate.. I record everything." some lights came on under the skin a recorded voice.. simulated but still unsettling.

::Mistrust is the tyrrany of the individual. Your own kind sees you as a threat. No matter. We will rend your wire and steel from flesh and put you separate.::

he gritted his teeth.. angry.. speaking angrily..

"It was like... my own grandparents or family said this to me... and I remembered my family never...made me feel so small... It made me mad... made me angry... that they can make me feel like an abused child... They are the most insidious threat. Know this... above all else."

he rubbed his nose. and turned down his implants to save power. calmed down.

"Ill be here." he said.