Yeah, back to this.
The mural Reithner was illuminating with her headlamp was… well, it was ugly, and there was no getting around it. It didn’t even have the dubious virtue of technical skill; the artist had pounded and smeared it onto the rock wall using whatever materials were at hand. Possibly literally, Tobias thought as he averted his eyes. You can always get brown and red that way.
“That’s… Steelfang, right?” Buckley growled. “The Red Imperial god of death?”
“One of them, yes,” Tobias replied with utter calm. “He’s also sort of their god of farming. That’s why his mouth looks like a scythe, the better to reap his victims. The cult thinks blood makes the grain grow. Give me a good reason not to burn that damned thing off the wall.”
“We do not have incendiaries.” Reithner sounded hot, rather than cold. “Why did we not bring incendiaries?”
The desire in her voice made Tobias get himself back under control. “Right. Douse that light, Lieutenant. We don’t need to see it any longer.” He took a calming breath. “Lieutenant, Buckley, private circuit.” He waited until they both clicked in to continue. “Give me a good reason not to blow the airlock, and leave.”