Macharius

Macharius did the rounds of the social circuits. Knowing what he did about Edmund, it wasn't especially challenging to figure out who to focus on - old Military types. Macharius' Academy days proved quite useful, and he was certain that if he was still around next time Hamsha hosted an event, he'd be on the guest list. Unfortunately, when that might happen was in question. The Stalker had got the nobility very nervous, and the rate at which social events were held was much lower than it used to be.

Echo

The Manticore's Sting could never have been said to be a pretty ship. Menacing, certainly, in the same sort of way that a shark was menacing. Long and sleek, with too many teeth. As he approached, however, Kennoch couldn't help but feel that the Sting looked just a little bit smug, as well. Pleased to be sitting here, in the heart of Scintilla, without anyone the wiser as to what it carried within its cogitator banks. He was probably imagining it. Still, it was home, and he made it back to the spire without running into Galimina at all. Wherever she was hiding, she was content not to leap out at him, even if she probably knew he was here.

"Why, young Castermire. I was beginning to think you had forgotten about me," Sargon said, taking his time to get to an answer. Infuriating, really. "Enjoying the planet? I've never had the opportunity to visit Scintilla, but by all accounts it is an interesting place. The Witch-Cursed World? I wonder why you would be looking into that place. Is that why you've been so distressed, or..."

He trailed off, watching Kennoch through the walls of his tank, then sighed as best he could, suspended in liquid. "No, no, it is not a place to make light of. One of the Stations of Passage, through the Maw, a system that for whatever reason keeps the storms at bay and provides a safe haven for travellers. Or safer, in any case, but you already knew that. You've come to me for less general knowledge, of course."

Sargon bobbed up and down in the tank, considering what to say next. "The most memorable thing about it is the sound. Like a swarm of insects, somewhere far away. You can't see the source, not even with our gifts. The astropaths can hear it, too, and it dampens their ability to communicate. It is a benighted place, a frozen, valueless ball of rock and ice. There is nothing of worth there, and no reason to visit, unless... but surely not. Not the Scholastica's commission?"