A flyer had indeed fallen from above. It was something of a miracle that it had managed to land in any form of controlled manner, so damaged was its stern. It was a gun-cutter, a shuttle capable of breaking atmosphere and docking with a larger, warp-capable ship for transport between systems. It didn’t bear any identifying logos, which was odd for Vorlese, where the wealthy and powerful flaunted their badges for all to see. Perhaps it was an off-worlder’s craft. He reached out, intending to look inside…

…and recoiled in pain and confusion as he attempted to pass his consciousness through the metal of the hull. The damned thing was… blessed? Psi-shielded? He couldn’t be sure, but either was enough to throw him back. Who put that much effort into protecting their shuttle from esoteric threats?

Radimir waited, hovering his conscience around the craft’s perimeter. The landing didn’t seem to have killed the occupants, or at any rate not all of them: lights were moving around within. Were they calling for aid? Were rescue parties about to descend, quartering the ground in search of these unfortunates? That could prove problematic in the extreme.

Still he waited, concentrating to keep his focus on the ship while his physical form stood in another location. This was why he’d stepped through well away from the canines, or the spider: to be attacked by a starving predator in a moment of inattention would be most ignominious.

There. The craft’s occupants were moving, filing carefully and cautiously out of the ruined rear section. It appeared that they, at least, had no thoughts that rescue parties would be coming. Good news. Radimir waited to see what direction they would go in. Anything other than directly towards the great glyph would be of no concern to him.

They milled about briefly, then set off on a route roughly at right angles to the one that would have led them to his work. Radimir felt the lips of his distant body twitch into a smile. A close call, but nothing to be concerned about, in the end. He took a last look, to check they weren’t doubling back for some reason.

Wait.

He’d seen one of them before.

There was a woman in the middle of their small group whom he recognised. She’d been in Brobantis Palace, accompanying the big security chief!

She was the one who’d known when to duck.

She had to be a psyker of some sort, there was no question of it. But she also had to be part of House Brobantis. In fact, now that Radimir looked closer, he could see their logo on four of the others: armed guards, judging by their matching armour and weaponry. What were Brobantis guards doing in an unmarked shuttle that was so well defended? That would only make sense if there was a Brobantis Navigator close at hand.

There was.