Lesquare felt wrung out for the first time in a long time as he and Iskal walked up the flat dusty ramp and back out into the smoky air of East Embestour. His partner looked similarly lost in thought; a sight that lent to a twang of guilt in Lesquare's heart. But Iskal was a seasoned soldier, he'd recover quickly.

  'It would have been good to be told about this type of thing when I first joined the Valley Command.' Said Iskal.

  'I know, you're right, Old Love. But you say that as if what we just experienced is a common occurrence, a standard operation. It's not. I intend that to be the last of my interactions with the Fadoons.'

  'I get the impression they think this is just the beginning.'

  'That's intentional. They think the have leverage by the notion that I've come to them behind the back of my superior. I made sure to hint at that the very first time I set foot in their private fighting pit chambers. It means they've been more open with their information because they think the have some sort of upper hand over me.'

  'So once you stop playing ball, they think they can blackmail you with a threat of informing your bosses?'

  'Indeed. But what they don't know, despite their so-called "knowledge industry",' Lesquare said mockingly, 'is that Valley Admiral Henney was the one who signed it off in the first place.'

  'Henney never struck me as one who would give this the okay.' Said Iskal, obviously still troubled.

  'You'll come to understand, in your own time, the true nature of the phrase, 'The ends justify the means'. I don't know if you truly appreciate how fractured Oros has become in such little time. The status quo has been rocked to a violent degree. All three realms, Collosea, Haemonine and Ruskel work in a harmony, each possessing its own industry. Collosea chose metallurgy, engineering and quarry mining, The Haemonines botany, medicines, and now undara, and the Ruskelites live off their vast precious metal deposits. Once the trade of these wanes, the faults in the firmament spread like cracked glass. The New Becoming thrive off this. Hell, each realm's dependence on their own resources is listed on the first page of their manifesto. But while THEY see this as a 'sickness' and a 'call to arms for a united Oros', the reasonable majority know it to be a blessing, a source of pride reflected in the very colours on our emblems. If we don't stop the New Becoming from growing, they'll push this division further until the glass shatters. The trade caravans on the Outer Greatway in the valley have all but come to a juddering halt. Have you been out to the Valley recently? You can actually see far more of it with crystal clarity now without the constant cloud of kicked dust from the undara carriages.'

  Iskal didn't say anything for a few minutes, but then looked at Lesquare and nodded, saying: 'I think I understand it now.'

  At this point, Lesquare was feeling grander with each step, now that the thick spiced air of the chambers was clear from his lungs, and the weight of the Fadoons' company was easing at his shoulders. The pair reached the far edge of the Ram's Eye once more, having said little else to each other on the way. Lesquare bid Iskal goodbye, making sure to watch his countenance closely, pick out any notion of unsteady body language, before heading home. He needed to quickly change his clothes before setting out once more to the Ruling Town, where Valley Admiral Henney had asked him to meet for an early dinner that evening.

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  It was late afternoon when Lesquare arrived back at his home in a Northern corner of the Arts Village, just a stone's throw from the Ram's Eye. He requested a residence in this area primarily for its proximity to the central Embestour parade and The Palisade, and, as always, the request was granted by the ever-generous treasurers in the Valley Command. The epitome of 'your wish is my command'. His apartment occupied the fifth floor of an ornate townhouse with the facade of being made entirely of fine wood. He lived alone, always had, for his space was his sanctum. He could count the number of people who had ever known of the location of his home on a single hand. Romance was prosaic. Sex was overrated. Duty, however, was boundless in its applications.

  He sat with a square, carved glass of wine in his hands. He would only have one, so as to stay sharp for the dinnerwith Valley Admiral Henney. Iskal came into his mind again, most notably how he handled the introduction to the darker side of their work. He played the memories in his head once more, like turning page after page of a book of sketches. In the five or so weeks they'd worked closely, Lesquare had, to the 99th percent, concluded that Chieftain Iskal Marks was one to be trusted. To discover that Iskal was somehow involved with the New Becoming - either by blackmail or zealotism - would be a cause for significant surprise at this point.

  But there was something still... off about him. It rooted into Lesquare's mind like a burrowing thorn. There was some way in which Iskal remained rigid in everyday conversation, as if he were carefully selecting each word to ensure he avoided some sort of 'slip'. Lesquare had often chalked it up to simple nerves experienced by one in an alien setting, one who's still learning the ropes. But still, that thorn burrowed further, catching and slicing the nerve endings. The times that Lesquare noticed it most prominently was when the topic of the death of Iskal's troop arose. Naturally, Lesquare tried to avoid referencing said event, for he too knew the pain of losing troops under his watch. Although it was more shame and anger that Lesquare felt in those circumstances. But in the times when the discussion was unavoidable that Iskal seemed to shut up shop, particularly when the New Becoming's designs to grow the two-cross ajers were mentioned. Maybe he was worried about what that feculent cult could do with such a power.

  Lesquare was wearing a fresh black and green waistcoat with a thin blue leather overcoat when he met with Valley Admiral Henney at the footsteps of the Palisade. Henney was accompanied on either side by two Collosean Soldier guards - an unavoidable requirement in times of grey war.

  'You're looking in fine form this evening, Commander.' Said Henney, leaning just a touch on his walking stick. He was a small husk compared to the sizeable guards, who were scanning the surrounding area like mice leaving the burrow.

  'Well, seeing as you've picked the place for dinner, I figured I should dress in some finery, so as not to upset the high society diners we'll be joining.'

  'Ah yes, about dinner, I was hoping we could make a quick stop on the way there. There's something important I want to show you, someone I want you to meet.'

  Lesquare cocked a curious eye. 'Where abouts is said rendezvous?' He asked.

  'The Grand Turning Campus at the University of Collosea.' Confirmed Henney, as he set off west. Lesquare followed beside him, now with even more questions for his old friend.