the administratum is always watching

The door swung gently on its hinges. ‘Eira?’ It was half-dark, the apartment trashed, broken furniture littering the lounge area. He could smell blood, and his hand tightened around the knife in his pocket. He could sense someone inside. ‘Eira?’ he called again, more loudly. ‘In here,’ called a weary voice, and he exhaled sharply and crossed to a door with long, quick strides. It was locked. ‘Eira, open the door.’ ‘Are you alone?’ ‘Yes. It's just me. Open the door, Eira.’ There was a click, and he pushed it open to find her levelling a boltpistol at him. ‘Easy.’ She looked past him, suspiciously, then yanked him into the small space and pushed the door to behind him. The bathroom was just big enough for both of them, lit by a single servoskull balancing a precarious number of candles on its smooth surface. ‘Where's Tanakia?’ ‘Long gone, if she has any sense.’ Macsen let out a long sigh and lowered the gun. ‘Heinrix, I-’ ‘This isn’t your fault, Eira.’ He realised she was trembling, snatched up a thick towel and wrapped it around her shoulders. She moved into his embrace and he held her, gently. ‘Did she hurt you?’ ‘A little bit of Fourth Action. Hardly the worst I've had in service.’ He snorted gently, amused despite the situation, and guided her down to sit on the edge of the bathtub. ‘Let me check you over.’ There was silence as he did, satisfying himself that any injuries were superficial. ‘Heinrix,’ she started, ‘I'm so sorry-’ ‘This is my responsibility, not yours.’ ‘The Lord Inquisitor-’ ‘Calcazar doesn't know anything. This was entirely Tanakia acting on her own recognisance.’ ‘That throne-damned grox-humping-’ He chuckled, sat next to her, placed an arm around her. She leant into him, and for a moment - just a moment - it was like old times. ‘A woman who can curse like that must be alright.’ ‘What are you going to do?’ ‘I need to find Gwenllian. I sent her off to safety.’ ‘No you don't,’ came a tight, angry voice. He dropped his arm from Eira's shoulders like she had scalded him. ‘Gwen?’ She was stood in the doorway, armed now, Abelard behind her, the older man radiating disapproval.  Her weapon looked wildly incongruous against her fine gown. ‘Explain.’

In which Heinrix finds himself in more than one surprising situation.

Prompt by @ashleeabutton, who helpfully suggested what they could get up to on day four of their holiday.

‘Are you jealous?’ The question surprised him even as it came out of his mouth. ‘Would you care if I was?’ ‘Gwenllian,’ he admonished, hurt. ‘Why would I not-’ ‘No, I'm not jealous,’ she cut him off, her words clipped. ‘I'm annoyed that I have been shot at on the last night of my shore leave. I'm angry that your station has come between us, again. I'm insulted that you didn't think to tell me.’ There was a silence. ‘Are you going to return her to Dargonus?’ She sighed. ‘No, Heinrix. I'd rather keep the spy I know exists rather than have her replaced with one I do not know about.’ ‘She's not a spy, Gwen. No more than Achilleas was.’ ‘Are there more?’ ‘That even I don't know about?’ He chuckled, bitterly. ‘I don’t doubt it. There will be people assigned to watch Calcazar from far higher up within our organisation too. We're all puppets, of a sort.’ ‘Sounds like an awful way to live,’ she muttered. ‘We are all sinners and apostates in the God-Emperor's light,’ he reminded her, and she snorted. ‘Speak for yourself,’ she answered, and her hands moved to her neckline, to the aquila pendant tucked inside her dress that she had taken to wearing more and more since Commorragh. ‘Some of us are sinners and apostates to everyone around them, too.’ ‘You know I don't think that of you,’ he said, the words coming in a sudden rush. ‘Your loyalty to the Throne is purer than many I've known.’ ‘Feth me,’ she said in a surprised tone, meeting his gaze, ‘that's almost a compliment, Interrogator.’ ‘I have never found fault in your faith,’ he stated firmly, reaching out and gently tucking an errant curl behind her ear. ‘Your methods, however-’ She slapped at his hand with a chuckle, and Heinrix let some of the tension out of his spine with a long exhale. ‘What is this woman's problem, anyway?’

I was playing some more Darktide today and came across this sign in the Archivium/Librarium/whatever level of the game.