"It's my Interrogator, Nemus. You can trust him. Could you please... open the door ?" he asks to his allies.
Azrael recognises the results of a psychic attack well enough and immediately moves to door. Clearly Lexander and his marines are going to be more difficult to deal with than he might have hoped. Perhaps Kremiel and Hrothgar might be more amenable to 'dishonourable' methods now. Or perhaps they would just get themselves killed and leave the ship to him, Azrael would hardly complain.
"Of course Inquisitor, do you need medical assistance?"
"Thank you for your solicitude, Magos... More than medical treatments, I think that I need a few hours of mental and physical rest... I haven't sleep well for days... But time flies, sleep will have to wait."
Even physically weakened, the old Inquisitor still have tricks up his sleeve.
One does not live up to 182 years without serious assets.
"The good news is that the reclamation team is back. The bad news if that new warbands are approaching the voidship. I fear that the situation will be out of control soon..." says Nemus.
While Nemus speaks, Maegon puts a trembling hand in one of his waist packs, searching for something.
"How close to the ship are these warbands, and what kind of strength do they have?", inquires Azrael.
"Some warbands are camping around the ship, trying to identify the best entry ways. Some others are a little further, but rapidly approaching.
They will probably rush forward soon.
Jethro has identified several imperial flags, but also several renegade ones.
And vehicles, I fear."
The augmentic eyes and integrated cogitator of Maegon's old savant would need a checkup, but are fortunately still working.
"Who's in control of the ship's turrets ?" asks Nemus.
Before anybody can answer, the discussion is interrupted by a metallic voice.
A metallic voice echoes through the halls and chambers of the fallen Sensibilious: "Welcome aboard Inquisition Maegon. Captain Lexander of the Relictors chapter requests your presence on the command deck. He suggests you come quickly; the augur arrays, such as there are, are picking up strange energy fluctuations form the Kasr.
Just a second before hearing the voice, Maegon pulls a vial out his waist pack.
A crystal vial, containing a silver-blue liquid.
He stops his move, the time to listen.
How do they know my name ? The psychic clash, probably...
The ship is equipped with speakers, but impossible for each room to be equipped with microphones. The Relictors can not have listened to our meeting, I'm confident about that.
But I don't like this convocation...
And whose voice was that?"Well... I guess that confrontation time finally came." drops Maegon with a sad smile.
"In your state, Inquisitor..." says Hrothgar. "Are you seriously considering to answer this call ?"
Nemus cleans Maegon's blood, still flowing from his nose.
Maegon shows his vial.
"As my body is not reduced to dust and my soul is not lost in the limbs, I'm not yet defeated.
This is Asea Eranion, a powerful substance distilled by the Schola Psykana on the basis of a rare psychoactive flower.
I saved it preciously for a... special occasion."
Then Maegon drinks the liquid.
With every sip, his tired face relaxes and retrieves colors, his stature straightens, his tarnished psychic aura sparkles again.
"Now..." begins Maegon with a strong and strange voice, combining three different tones.
"I can stand and fight at full power for one day and one night.
My psychic powers will be magnified during this period.
After that... the backlash will be terrible. I'll fall unconscious for several weeks. Eventually, I'll wake up fresh as a new born, or I'll die."Nemus stays silent.
At this stage of the game, his Master has no choice if he wants to keep playing, right ?
All-in.The Inquisitor stretches in his power armour.
Now he's holding his force staff, more than his staff holds him, as it was the case just a moment before.
"Are you ready, friends ?"