Chương 50: Chapter Forty-Four - Unprisonment

Octavia was bored out of her mind, which wasn't a good state of being, as far as she was concerned. When she (somewhat reluctantly) returned to the upper decks and the section of the ship just above the medicae deck that had been reserved for guests such as the sororitas, she was immediately sequestered to her quarters, then there were some discussions that she wasn't part of, and she was moved from her quarters to what she suspected was meant to be a proper sister's quarters. The room was nice.

It had its own head, a bed that wasn't a plank with a hint of mattress on it, and it was large enough to pace in, which was probably the height of luxury onboard a ship. The Sororitas had insisted on taking her armour, undersuit, and weapons, which led to a funny situation when they couldn't budge her weapons off of the small table she placed them on. Octavia stood off to the side, grinning, as three senior sisters tried to move her gear. They even tried prayer, which was enough to almost make her want to giggle.

When that failed, they brought out the holy incense and checked for demonic taint, which cut her giggles short. Fortunately, all the results came back negative. Her chainsword and bolter weren't demonic. They didn't look demonic, of course, but it was still reassuring to see that they passed the tests. She wasn't sure what happened to her armor, but the quartermaster moved it with due reverence, so she was pretty sure it was well tended to. Worst case, she'd get more.

In the meantime, she was left wearing robes of pure white, which they could have made out of silk or something, but nooo, they had to make them out of the scratchiest material known to womankind. Her smaller items were left untouched, and the new implants were only stared at crookedly. They were probably just one more thing on the pile of things they wanted to ask about. And ask they did. Sister Daydris came in the next morning and basically grilled Octavia for hours.

The woman didn't believe that Octavia was a saint, not for one moment, which was cool as far as Octavia was concerned. She'd have been worried about the woman's mental health if she had turned around and decided that Octavia could do no harm. This was the same woman who had once tasked Octavia with checking the seals on some armour and returned to find all of the purity seals placed like nipple tassels. Heh... Octavia was proud of that one. Less so of the caning that came from it.

She'd learned to be more discreet with her pranks from that. Anyway, Daydris asked her a lot of questions, and for the most part, Octavia answered truthfully, unless it was to cover up the existence of Vyper, or lying was particularly funny. She agreed that she wasn't a saint, which put Daydris at ease. When she left, two sisters were left in her room, to 'guard' her. One of them was stoic and silent and did her job, but the other was a Sororitas-tier gossip and was quick to let Octavia know what was going down.

Apparently, there had been a few losses. Not very many, all things considered, but of the hundred-odd novitiates on the ship, sixteen were casualties. Of those, only a few were dead. The rest were being tended to by the ship's medicae. That was a nice little blessing. A bonus for fighting on a ship whose main claim to fame was the absurd number of medicae onboard. So at least those that were injured were getting the best care they could. Otherwise, the rumour-mill was all about Octavia.

There was fierce debate over whether or not she was a saint. Really, that devolved into three-ish camps. The first group made up of those that saw her in combat and didn't know her. They were fiercely fanatical believers. It didn't help that many of them had seen Sister Jeanne on the edge of death and then seen her hale and hearty just hours later, looking like she had endured a long vacation rather than having her insides turned into outsides. Octavia wanted to see if Jeanne was okay, but that could wait.

Last she saw, the woman was fine. Even her skin was nicer. The second camp was the fence-sitters. They were curious but not entirely ready to throw themselves into fervent belief. They were the more level-headed. The third and last camp was those that thought she was some sort of heretic, demon-worshipper, or outright evil. Too many in that last camp, Octavia suspected, were also victims of some of her harmless... tests of decorum.

Like that time she filled one snarky woman's locker with several hundred rosary beads, or the sister that had discovered Octavia carving several bars of soap into... suggestive phallic shapes. She had been intending to place those into the senior sister's bathing quarters, but the bitch had tattled on her. The first day ended rather unceremoniously. She had a lot of sleep to catch up to. The next day... kinda sucked. Even being grilled by Daydris gave her something to do.

The sisters guarding her were called away, so she was left entirely alone with no one to talk to but Vyper. This novel's true home is a different platform. Support the author by finding it there. That proved alright, the weird voice in her head was entertaining enough, and Octavia found herself asking random science-y questions and getting answers that were far more detailed than she had expected, only they were explained well enough that even she could understand.

Eventually, however, the door opened, and Octavia sat up, then grinned.

"Jeanne!"

"Sister Novitiate Jeanne," Jeanne corrected. She moved into the room, then shut the door behind her.

"I was finally let in."

"Yeah, I see that," Octavia said.

"Been trying to get to me?" Jeanne sighed.

"This was a mistake, wasn't it?"

"Nah, nah, I'm happy you're here," Octavia said.

"I was about to lose my mind."

"You're supposed to be in prayer, devoting yourself after the battle," Jeanne said.

"I did a little praying," Octavia lied. Jeanne didn't buy it.

"How can someone like you be labeled a saint?" Octavia shrugged.

"I didn't ask for it."

"Then explain... urgh, no, never mind. How are you doing? Daydris left here yesterday and looked real annoyed. Which doesn't tell me anything. Anyone would be after spending an hour in a room with you."

"Heh! I'm just happy it wasn't Sister Palatine Androsa that did the interrogating. She's scarier." Jeanne nodded.

"She's busy. We're all very busy doing nothing at the moment."

"What do you mean?" Octavia asked.

"More genestealers? I could be out there helping!"

"No, no, not those. For the most part, the mutants have been purged. There were reports all day yesterday of small pockets of them being found, but they're kind of just running wild? I think they're desperate with their leaders dead, and the mop-up crews have been taking them out. I haven't heard of any of them being left, but I'm sure they'll find a few hidden away months from now. Mostly they're being found dead already... That wasn't your doing, right?"

"Nope!" Jeanne stared hard for a moment, then broke eye contact.

"Uh, do you want the rest of the news?"

"Mostly want to know what's going on. I haven't even been allowed out of my pretty little cell," Octavia said.

"Right. Well, the Sororitas are trying to help with the succession crisis--" Jeanne started. Octavia raised a hand.

"The what?"

"Oh, right. So, the Rogue Trader, Caduceus, is dead. The writ should go to his firstborn son, but he's not here. So now there's the question of who takes command. We're still in the warp, so we need to decide fast, but nothing is happening quickly. The Sororitas were called on by one of the heirs to fix the succession issue. Technically, by right of order of birth, they'd be next, and they want the Sororitas' weight behind them."

"I guess that makes sense. The others aren't taking it well?" This was some top-tier juicy gossip. Noble in-fighting usually was.

"Yeah, Augustus, the 4th in line, and the one who wants our help, also has the Voidsmen on his side, but the seneschal doesn't like him. The other big heirs are Nigel Jericho, who took his mother's name, and is the 6th in line. He's been in contact with everyone, and is making a lot of deals. I think the medicae are on his side of things, some of the Mechanicus as well."

"So it's between those two?" Octavia asked. She pulled out a seat from the small table she had, then sat. She hated how her feet didn't touch the ground. One day, she'd have a place with furniture tailored to her height, then it would be everyone else looking like fools.

"Them and Clarice Caduceus, the 9th in line. She's not doing anything, though. She did put out a message? Calling for all Vanguards to come and meet her, whatever that means, but no one-- Octavia?" Octavia had jumped out of her seat and taken one knee.

"God Emperor, is that message, uh, not bullshit?"

"Hm? Oh, yes. The message was sent on behalf of another Vanguard. Not Alexis Lambda-3, though she is on her way already."

"Octavia?"

"We're going!" Octavia said.

"Going where?" Jeanne asked.

"To that Clarice woman. Come on, I need to get my gear." She grabbed her bolter off the table and then tossed it to Jeanne who caught it out of the air with an oomph. She stared down at the gun, which she was now able to move.

"Huh?" Octavia grabbed her chainsword, checked to see that she was still wearing her necklace, and then slid that wreath onto her head.

"Come on! Let's go bully the quartermaster until she gives me my shit back. If we're fast about it, we might make it out of here before anyone important notices."

"Oh... oh Emperor, both Daydris and the Palatine Sister are absent," Jeanne said. Octavia's grin only grew.

"Perfect! That'll make this easier."