Aboard the Fifth Chapter's flagship, the Relic-class battleship Starcaller, on the bridge.
Santiago Borgkamp stood before the full viewport. With the important passenger, High Chaplain Pat, and with no conflict anticipated, he was not seated at his usual console.
"Lower the view shutters!"
At his command, the aetheric baffles rotated with a clatter of motors, and the louvers descended.
Pat, his crozius in hand, looked out. A thick, hazy mist surrounded them.
At his two o'clock, a brilliant orange light flared.
Seconds later, it faded.
A few seconds after that, a dazzling aurora blazed at his ten o'clock.
Pat's vision, enhanced three times through his progress as a "Spectator," "Telepathist," and "Hypnotist," sharpened.
His eyes narrowed, and a pale golden light flickered in them.
"There is a supernatural mist in this dimension. It is a psychic mist," he stated with certainty.
The daemonologist Santiago agreed. "Indeed."
"Though I cannot pinpoint the Wyvachs' location, I can ensure we don't lose our way, wander in circles, or waste time."
"That is enough." Pat's tone was devout.
"No matter the obstacle, I will complete my Lord's divine will."
The fervent Chaplain moved immediately, issuing orders. The Chaplains assembled rapidly on the flight deck, boarding the Thunderhawk gunships.
Each gunship was piloted by a "Robot," with an "Astrologer" in the co-pilot's seat, holding a crystal ball.
Santiago's personal gunship was the first to launch. As it left the Jokaeron Force Field's protective envelope, he pressed the activation rune on his suit's psychic array.
Behind his seat, the psychic circuits on the four CORV Drones blazed to life.
The daemonologist's obsidian eyes were deep. The crystal ball in his hand flared with light.
At the center of the blue crystal, a black point appeared, rapidly forming the shape of a black eagle.
Whoosh!
The eagle was quickly surrounded by a layer of psychic mist, indistinguishable from that of the dimension.
Santiago focused on his "Astrologer" divination abilities, his hand rubbing the crystal ball's surface, the information from the Black Emperor's data crystal flashing through his mind.
The mist within the crystal churned.
He heard a faint flapping of wings.
He listened, trying to pinpoint the source.
After a dozen seconds, the sound faded, and the mist in the crystal settled.
Santiago withdrew from his trance, his eyes refocusing. He scanned his surroundings, then addressed Pat.
"My divination is limited. With the current information, I cannot pinpoint the exact location of the Wyvachs' lair."
"I am more skilled in astrological divination, and the psychic mist is interfering..."
"I understand, Star Lord." Pat's voice was firm.
"Merely a minor obstacle. Nothing will prevent us from completing our Lord's divine will."
With a hiss of hydraulics, he released the mechanical restraints holding him to his seat and stood.
His eyes, now almost pure gold, narrowed.
He walked to the narrow viewport, his golden, slit-pupiled eyes fixed on the mist.
"Eleven o'clock. My Lord will guide us."
Santiago, without a clear direction of his own, could only agree. He ordered his pilot, "Eleven o'clock."
He then took a stylus and traced the flight path on the console.
The flight formation spread out around the Chapter Lord's craft, advancing through the mist on reconnaissance.
The psychic mist drifted, seemingly endless, sometimes erupting in a display of brilliant light, only to fade again.
"There is something..." Pat said suddenly, rapidly marking the target's position on the tactical network.
The pilot worked the controls. The black Thunderhawk banked sharply, churning the mist.
Whoosh!
The Thunderhawk circled, hovering over the marked location.
"The augur array, including the aetheric reader, shows no anomalies," the pilot said, confused.
The highly perceptive "Robot" also sensed nothing nearby.
"There has been a change..." the daemonologist Santiago said.
"A change in space itself."
"You mean..." Pat stared into the mist.
"Like Tanisth, where the forests move. Here, the space itself moves."
"Exactly." Santiago put his stylus away, abandoning any attempt at recording.
Click.
He released his restraints. "I have left psychic markers along the way."
Santiago walked to stand beside Pat. The four CORV Drones followed, their Bedrock-pattern boltguns at the ready.
Santiago's eyes blazed with starlight, illuminating the area.
Whoosh!
In a flash of light, they materialized in the psychic mist.
In Santiago's vision, blocks of space, like shifting puzzle pieces, rolled past. Three of them were marked with points of starlight.
The areas he had marked.
Two were adjacent horizontally. The third was connected below.
The daemonologist led Pat, moving swiftly across the shifting blocks.
"We've found it."
The light stopped. Their forms solidified from the ethereal to the real.
Pat looked out. His golden eyes locked onto a dozen creatures, identical to the images in the data crystal the Black Emperor had given him.
They were about half the size of a man, with long, prehensile tails, several times the length of their bodies, nearly as long as a man is tall.
Their wings were broad, though not as exaggerated as their tails.
Their wings resembled the Khrave's bat-wings in shape, with a blue-black outer membrane and a red inner membrane.
The moment Santiago and Pat materialized, the Wyvachs spotted them.
Their necks, about twice the length of their bodies, curved and twisted, unleashing a piercing shriek.
Light blazed from their spines as Santiago and Pat instantly ascended to the Second Level of the Thelema mindstate.
Santiago watched the Wyvachs beat their wings and flee. "As my Lord said, the Wyvachs possess exceptionally keen senses."
"The most distant one is beyond even the Thunderhawk's aetheric reader's range."
"That's why they evaded the Thunderhawk," Pat said, his eyes narrowing, his spirituality spreading outward like invisible waves.
"Dragon's Awe" rolled outward. A dozen Wyvachs were struck as if by a hammer.
Two fled at speed.
Three flew aimlessly, as if they had lost their innate psychic perception, lost in the mist.
Four spun in circles.
Five trembled, frozen in place.
Santiago felt the invisible pressure emanating from Pat, glancing at him from the corner of his eye.
He quietly ascended to the Third Level of the Thelema mindstate.
'No wonder Pat and the Chaplains are embodiments of my Lord's authority. This pressure is applied directly to the mind.'
'It must be a power granted by my Lord.'
As Santiago pondered, Pat produced a small, double-numbered, black-gold bottle from his belt.
Bang!
The stopper opened, releasing a scent of calm and serenity.
Pat's arm swept, scattering the oil, which had mandrake as its primary ingredient.
The "Hypnotist's" eyes glowed gold. His voice was soothing.
"Wyvachs, come to me."
"We will be the best of partners."
The "Psychological Suggestion" in his voice calmed the five trembling Wyvachs. They, along with the four that had been spinning, flew towards the "Hypnotist."
The two that had been flying aimlessly in the mist followed shortly after.
Pat looked at Santiago. "I told you, my Lord would guide us."
Santiago nodded, raising his arms with Pat in an inverted clasp.
"Praise my Lord."
Pat lowered his hands. "Now, let us continue to carry out my Lord's command, and acquire the Wyvachs."
....
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