Fortinbras, You are Our Only Hope

[Zedrich Rommelisch]

The old mage hobbled to the ramp of the shuttle, glancing over his shoulder. Not in any kind of anxiety but because his addle minded apprentice should have already been here. The window for departure was closing with every second. IMP could only resist so much of that integral programing that Helghast had personally instilled within the AI before it decided that Zedrich was simply too much of a risk factor to let go.

Hera was gone. And word would reach the Inquisitor the moment Rommelisch had departed the system from IMP. He had only that much of a head start before the Empire dogged him to the reaches of the galaxy. Zedrich already knew where he would go though. It was predictable but he knew that destination better than any other currently alive, except for maybe the natives, as Agriel had referred to them.

Things were moving a bit too fast for Zedrich's taste to be honest but this was not his fault, honest. For once it appeared his scheming behind the scenes at the Citadel had caught up with him and with the external interference of... well, whoever had aided Hera in her disappearance had been the grain of sand that tipped the scale against him and would have him evicted from his home for the last... Since the Emperor had brought them all here to Coruscant that long ago.

With him, Zedrich took three of the Imperial mages with him. They were of no real importance but for their knowledge. They specialized in artifact retrieval and they would be sorely missed by their remaining brethren. But that wasn't his problem anymore in a way; it would surely be young Fortinbras' though.

Zedrich turned, his stooped form looking towards the doors across the docking bay as they opened and a tall figure in red robes entered.

[Ivan Fortinbras III]

A rhythmic tapping echoed throughout the the docking bay as Ivan entered the room, dropping the butt end of his staff against the cold ivory floor. Ivan Fortinbras III, Apprentice to Zedrich Rommelisch, would-be Imperial Magi, looked about the room and acknowledged his masters presence with a nod of his cowled head.

The staff, more for appearances, severed no real purpose other than to give him something to focus on when walking about the Citadel. Normally, Ivan's mind would be counting the steps in-between every room, hallway, and training room he encountered. It was a habit. Albeit, a handy habit at that. With almost a flawless memory, knowing your position in such a large building never came without its benefits if one needed to disappear for a time being.

As he approached Zedrich, Ivan once again bowed his head in respect.

"Forgive my tardiness Master. I have no excuse."