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This was posted a while back on 'Bolter and Chainsword' (ie 3 yrs ago), and I have just re-found it on my computer. It was originally written by Inquisitor_Cael.
Chapter I: The Fire and the Moth
He took a long drag from the tightly rolled cigarette. The hand holding it reflected some of the dim light off of its metallic surface. He had learned to love this hand. The Adeptus Mechanicus and the Hospitaliter who set it in place had done a good job. Most of it, however, was still covered by the sleeve of his long, brown, overcoat. Mostly for the sake of the sanity of those around him. The Inquisitor sat calmly at the simple wooden table, leaning slightly back in his chair. His face remained expressionless as he spoke to the man across from him.
“I’m glad to see you arrived so quickly, Inquisitor.”
He smiled grimly and let out a short, forced laugh. “Yes, well, I found it hard to resist. The calling of our good Emperor would of course leave me no other recourse.”
“Of course, of course. Shall I buy you a drink?” The man was fat, his vest accentuating the gut of his chest. There seemed a jovial look about him, yet, at the same time, he seemed to have to be rather grimy.
“There’s no need.” The Inquisitor ground out the light of the cigarette in a small, metal, ashtray. He smirked inwardly after realizing he just pushed out the cigarette on the face of the company’s mascot.
“Waitress, a gin and tonic for both of us.”
Cael sighed, but said nothing about the Governors failed attempt at generosity. The waitress seemed just as unamused, as she’d spent the last hour staring Cael down as he entered. The insignia he wore gave him away easily, yet, one such as him was not the most inviting company. The waitress walked off to fix the drinks.
“So, I suppose you would like to get to business, I know that’s your style Inquisitor. You never took much time to admire the simpler things.”
The waitress brought the drinks by and timidly set them on the table. The governor’s was set close to him. The Inquisitors was set a good arms length away, as he if perpetuated a bubble that kept folk such as her away.
“Oh, do correct me before I continue, is it Lord Inquisitor now? It has been a long time.”
“You are correct in that assumption, Governor.”
The Governor hesitated a moment, not sure if he had just raised some anger in the Inquisitor. Such Imperial servants could be peculiar about how they handled their titles, and no two were the same. Cael showed no sign either way, causing the Governor to move on. The Governor took a drink from the glass.
“I am sure you have heard of the recent uprising, as well as the attempted coup by that heretical Colonel. I curse their name, and pray that the Emperor bring them torment even in the afterlife! Praise His name that enough of our forces remained loyal as to have helped aid us in our foes defeat.”
“Or so you say. My men are testing your claims as we speak.”
The Governor shuddered on the inside. He had heard of what such tests entailed.
“Yes, of course. I promise you will find nothing undesirable.”
The Inquisitor only nodded. “If you are done your masked bragging, may we continue?”
“Of course, of course, as I said, we have dispatched most of the rebels. They have been killed, and their leaders bodies left out as proof of a heretics fate. However, I believe our problem is more expansive-”
“-Than a simple coup by a Colonel, anyone could see such.”
The governor stammered slightly as the Inquisitor finished the sentence for him. The Governor tried to smile slightly, and look the Inquisitor in the eye, but found only piercing blue. He averted his gaze.
“So, yes, I have sent word to your order that I have your assistance, in fact, yours specifically, good Lord Inquisitor. I pray that you may save this world from corruption and that by the light of the Emperor you may hunt down what has caused so many of my brethren to lose faith.”
The Inquisitor let our a noise, one that could be considered an agreement.
“I am, of course, at your service. What would you require in your hunt?”
“Tell me what you know so far.”
“I know little. The Colonel remained insolent, only denouncing our Saviors name and crying out that our downfall was imminent. Such petty words for a petty man! Curse his name.”
“You need not be so energetic.”
“As you wish, my so kind master.”
Cael closed his eyes, and sighed.
“However, you know that I am oft to know at least something of the streets activities,” said the governor. “This has lead me to a bit of a lead, something that you may begin your journey on. While the rebels were lead by a Colonel, most of them were not soldiers in the Planetary Defense Forces. In fact, most were little more than armed peasants. It is a shame that they should have fallen to his orations, he was charismatic, but a fool. So many lives, nihil.” The Governors attempt at using High Gothic seemed to annoy Cael more than flatter him. “What I have done is found who sold the weapons to the Colonel. The man who did so goes by the name of Alaric Da’le’Rahiel. A fancy name for a man of not so fancy means. He owns a small shop dealing mostly in weaponry, and some other goods that I suspect are black market. But, with the recent rebellion, I have had bigger fish to fry.”
“Imprint the directions.” Cael unhooked his Auspex from his belt and slit it across the wooden table. “Be quick about it. Put the coordinates in and I will begin the search.”
The Governor nodded, imputing the coordinates into the scanner. He never ceased to marvel at some of the technology these men got their hands on. It had been a long time since he’d seen things so good. “Done, and done, Inquisitor.”
The Inquisitor nodded. He remained relaxed, yet at the same time, utterly unapproachable. “Then, I will proceed with the investigation at my leisure. Your planet will remain loyal to the Emperor, one way or another.” The slightly ominous words sent a shiver down the Governor’s spine. “Make sure you leave your comm device on, I will contact you if I need to requisition any of your aid. “
“Of course, my Lord. I apologize again with our necessity to meet at this site, but I do not want to frighten the people as to believe that there may be more of the Heretics present. I wish the people to at least believe them dead, for otherwise would be to crush their moral.”
“Well, yes, yes, I must be going. I have little else to aid you with now, I am afraid. At your leisure, I will take my leave.”
The Inquisitor nodded and spoke coldly, “The Emperors blessing upon you.”
“And you as well.” The Governor rose from his seat. He bowed. He scurried out. He sighed in relief as he exited the building, glad to be gone from the watchful eye of Cael.
The Inquisitor sat for awhile at the table in silent contemplation. He dropped a few credits on the table, and left when he had completed his thoughts.
More to come!
The Inquisitor opened the small portable computer on his lap. He was reclining on a bed in a rather sterile looking room. The walls were white, pristine, and free of any marks. The floor was carpeted with a simple grey pattern. He had paid little attention to it. Governor Broderick had provided the most ample accommodations on Gavin X, but such matters were of little concern to Cael.
He sighed, expressing some degree of content of being rid of his trappings. His Carapace breast plate was hanging over a chair. His belt was doing the same, with all of its equipment still attached. The Inquisitor’s room was silent, save for the light tapping of his fingers against the keys as he wrote a small report to be filed away for his personal reference. He had dispatched several of his own men to begin examining the city. Cael read over what information he could find relevant. Yet, his own experiences with Gavin X lead him to have little concern for the information provided by the Imperium.
His eyes narrow slightly as he looked up from his computer. He was thinking. He stood up slightly and rearranged his Inquisitorial Robes. The Inquisitor stepped out onto the balcony of his fortieth floor room. His hands rested on the railings as he gazed out upon the city. Spires rose into the sky, piercing it like so many spears entering so many unfortunate breasts. So many memories he thought. He smirked and let escape the small semblance of a laugh. He might even have begun to feel some sense of nostalgia. His robe moved quietly in the wind like a crimson sail, his long, pure white hair mimicked the movements like a cloud of snow. His mind began to wander.
“Come on, Dmitri! We haven’t much time, you know they’ll be home in but a few short hours!” The beautiful young girl tugged his hand, her black hair bouncing around her chin like a veil. She laughed.
“You’re always in such a rush, Sasha. Come now, we haven’t much to worry! We’ll be fine.”
“Always the optimistic one,” she giggled as she spoke. She tossed her arms around him and her red lips met his own. For but a brief moment, time seemed to stand still in the house of Sasha Hegel. The young Dmitri Cael embraced her in what could be equated to both a moment of young love, and perhaps, a moment of young lust.
He smiled to himself. His hands released themselves from the rail of the balcony. He was surprised to remember such an event. He thought he had repressed it decades, even perhaps centuries ago. His mind was wandering, it would not be productive to his objective. However, his age almost yelled out inside his head, telling him such would be good for his own health. He turned on his heal and reentered the room.
It was not often he slept on a mission. The drugs provided by the Ordo Heriticus were enough to keep him awake for weeks without even a notice of sleep deprivation. However, with a long walk ahead of him, he decided it would not hurt. It was not often he had a night of sleep, and he supposed this one night would not hurt.
It was even less often that he dreamed.
The morning brought with it the usual visitors, the twin suns shining their light through the window, the sounds of the morning traffic from the streets above and below, and footsteps echoing down the hallway. Cael stirred from his sleep and grunted slightly as he sat up, his bionic arm making a noise similar to that of an air break as it reinitiated itself with his movements. He clenched the fingers into an iron mace. He released them just as quick. His mind was still racing. It was rare that he dreamed, yet every time he did, it was always the same. He dismissed it. Simply synapses of the brain, nothing more. It was, after all, morning, and there was work to be done.
The Inquisitor’s hat blocked out the morning rays. It extended a good length in either way, holding to it certain nostalgia from the puritan days of Terra. Buckled by the Imperial Skull, it was a sight to behold in itself. Such was the fashion of the hat that it added a degree of intimidation to his stare. A stare that was just as well hidden by the high collar of his overcoat, a stare that looked as if it was ever watching.
He liked it that way.
He pushed open the door to Arm’s dealer. The shop was on the thirteenth story of one of the industrial towers in the south side of town. The walls were a rusted steel, obviously walls that have not seen a lot of repair. The Inquisitor looked down at his feet as a rat scurried away from the door.
“Well, y’ain’t look like the right normal kind I see around this part, what the hell you be wantin’?” The man scratched himself. The Inquisitor remained silent at first, his eyes surveying the rusted walls of the room, the weapons hanging off the wall, and finally on the eyes of the grease ball behind the counter. The man’s hair was slicked back, a shiny helmet of gel. The Inquisitor’s symbol which dangled freely around his neck came into view as he stepped into a stronger light.
“<DELETED BY THE INQUISITION>! Emperor be praised, man! I ain’t know someone’portant as ya be the kind to take a look ‘round here. The hell ol’ Bart do for you? Anythin’ you need is on the house!” The man smiled widely, showing three gold teeth. The Inquisitor shut his eyes a moment. They opened again.
“You are the one responsible for selling the weapons to the rebels, am I correct?”
“Nah, I ain’t know where y’heard that, man. I ain’t that kind of dealer! Keep my things legal, y’know?”
The Inquisitor stepped closer, his plasma pistol making a slight bang against his leg as the holster slapped against his thigh in a methodical beat to his stride. “That is not what I’ve come to believe, Robert.”
“Man, I ain’t liein’ to you at all!” The man’s face held a look of shock. His glass eye was transfixed forward. His right eye averted.
“I’m afraid you are right now. I will make myself quick. You have aided those who which to destroy the worlds created by the Emperor’s divine grace.” The man stepped back from his counter. “You are charged with treason of the highest order.” He drew his plasma pistol with a slow and deliberate motion, holding the weapon at his side. The Inquisitor spoke again, “Your punishment is torture and death. You will come with me.”
Bart stepped back and held his hands in front of his face. “Please, sir, don’t touch me man! I ain’t do it because I wanted to! Alright? I didn’t even know I was selling to them!”
“Man, this bud been comin’ in here every week prior to the coup. He be buyin’ up anythin’ I’m willin’ to sell him. He has the proper papers and all. You dig? He’s been paying me right up straight.”
“I still think you’re lying. He didn’t have the papers, did he?”
“Okay man, so what? It’s an under the table sort of deal! It happens all the time! He was telling me he was Imperium! Said he was some sort of officer, man, don’t hurt me!”
The Inquisitor stared at the man a second, ingesting his statements.
“Do you know anything else about him?”
A slight buzz began to come from the door way as it creaked open, and two figured armored in black carapace entered the room. Each clutched a shotgun in their hands.
“I do suggest you finish quickly, Robert.”
Robert stammered, “That’s it man, okay!? He gave me big bucks, all for guns! I didn’t know what they were for! I swear it! Please, here, I still have his cards! The ones he used to buy it with, man, have them!” Bart popped his register, and presented three of the plastic cards used by Imperial employees. He passed them across the table. “Damnit, man, just help me out, alright?”
“I see. The Imperium thanks you for your help. The prior charges are dropped.”
Bart sighed in relief.
“However, I am afraid, that you are violating two laws now. That of ignorance which endangers the Imperium, as well as illegal arms dealing. The Arbitres will deal with you.” The two men stepped forward, a low pitch buzz emanating from their communication units.
“You will come up us,” one of the two said, the voice distorted. “If you fail, or attempt to escape, you will be killed without mercy, may the Emperor guard your soul. You are hear by sentenced through the order of the laws of Gavin V to fifty five lashes of the neuro-whip, seizure of all of your assets, and a time period of work service as ordered by the Justicar. Present your hands.”
Bart stammered, begging for freedom. Cael felt he was done here. He turned on his heal, leaving the Arbitres to do their job. His eyes glanced down to the three cards in his hand. He slid them into a pouch on his belt. The Inquisitor pulled a small comm device from his belt, and spoke into it, requesting his pick up. He had a long day in front of him, and he was appreciating the last sleep he would experience for quite awhile.
“I’d rather not.”
“Suit yourself, I would not want to refuse any pleasure to an Inquisitor of your standing.” A beautiful, scantly clad, blonde lifted the tea pot and poured a cup full for the Captain. Hot vapor lifted from the top of the mug. The Captain smiled and nodded to the girl, and she turned and left. The Captain poured a small bag of sugar into the cup, and began to stir it with a long, plastic, rod.
“So, what brings you here, Inquisitor?”
The Inquisitor dropped three plastic cards on the table. They were engraved with the Imperial eagle. “Do you recognize these?”
“Well, yes, they’re Imperial Credits. It is how we access our money, Inquisitor. Why would you show me such a simple item?” The Captain took a sip from his mug of tea. He crossed his legs and adjusted the collar on his uniform. He was old, probably in his late forties, yet lean. His uniform fit him sharply; the black standing in contrast to the gray of his combed back hair.
“I am afraid these cards have been charged to your account, Captain Lopez.” The Inquisitor sat straightly in his chair. They were on the balcony of the Captain’s 48th floor apartment.
“What are you hinting at, Inquisitor?”
“The money that was charged to these cards was used to buy weapons used by the heretics.”
“That is preposterous! Why would you even suggest such a thing?” The Captain appeared perturbed. He lit a cigarette. There was still one burning in the ashtray.
“My agents have tracked them to your account, Captain. You know that aiding heretics in the manner that you have is a major crime?” The Inquisitor cocked his head to the side slightly. His eyes radiated cold, his long, pristine, white hair doing more to build fear from his image, while on others; it may have made them look feminine.
“T-that is impossible, Inquisitor!”
“I am afraid that it is not, Captain.” He pulled his plasma pistol from his belt and placed it on the table. The words Redemptio Mortuus were inscribed on the sides in High Gothic script. “You have a chance to beg for your life, Captain. Or rather, a death that is less painful. I am afraid that you are going to die, Captain, as that is the punishment one of your standing will receive.” The Captain’s hand was noticeably under the table. “And, Captain, if that is a gun you are holding, I strongly suggest showing your hands.” The Captain raised his hands. They were empty. “Now, Captain, I suggest you begin talking. Why did you assist the heretics?”
“You would never understand.”
“I am afraid that I don’t have to, Captain. You will disclose to me one way or another why you aided them.”
“You can not win, Inquisitor. The true powers are too strong for you to even comprehend. One such as you would never understand what powers lay in the Warp, what powers we cease to chase, and what righteous fury your kind refuses us to access to.”
“Again, Captain,” the Inquisitor closed his fingers around the hand of the plasma pistol. “In death we are redeemed for our sins. I suggest you repent and explain to me what has happened. In a few moments, my men will enter here. You will be drug off into the afternoon, kicking, screaming. You will see implements that will make every battle you ever fought appear painless, as if they’re a joyous occasion.” The Captain lit a third cigarette. “You will know the meaning of pain in its purest form, and you will cry out your allies’ names, beginning for the Emperor’s forgiveness. It will be rewarded, but I am afraid, long after you lose the ability to cry out for it.”
As the Inquisitor finished this line, the sound of bolter fire could be heard close. A bit too close for his personal comfort. Cael heard the sizzle of two Hellguns fire, but mixed with a roaring screaming, they were quickly silenced. The Captain tried to pull his laspistol from his side. The Inquisitor predicated it and without turning his eyes from his new focus of attention, the door, he fired a shot straight into the chest of the Captain. The smell of burning flesh enveloped the area as the bolt of plasma had ripped a gaping hole in the Captain’s chest. The Inquisitor spun on his heals and turned to the door, still gripping his plasma pistol in his hand. A scream rang out, likely coming from the throat of the Captain’s now unemployed whore and assistant.
The Inquisitor entered the apartment. The girl was cowering in the corner. The eight foot tall frame of a space marine was seen in the middle. The horns of his helmet gave him another foot on top of that. The three-headed hydra of the Alpha Legion was emblazed upon the marine’s shoulder pad. He turned and lowered his mask gaze towards the Inquisitor. The Inquisitor looked back. An audio disk inside the apartment was playing. It provided the beat of a ¾ waltz.
It was time for a dance.
I hope Cael is a good dancer.
Chapter 5 is a little confusing because of flashbacks... I've editied it so that the flashbacks are in Italics, so I hope that helps...
On with the show!!!
The audio CD skipped slightly. Perhaps there was a small scratch on the bottom. After an eternal moment, the song continued.
His right hand was extended, clutching hers, his coat the slightest bit too big for the arm. They stepped in beat to the classic melody, giggling at the quality of the music. It was Beatrice Hegel’s wedding, and of course, any respectable family had been invited to attend. Sasha’s head was buried in Dmitri’s young chest, they were perhaps fifteen years of age. A love that was young, but no less pure than the older sort, merely different. They stepped to the right.
Dmitri then stepped to the left.
The Inquisitor then stepped to the right. He fired his plasma pistol twice with his right hand, one shot ripping a chunk out of the Marine’s shoulder pad, the other missing. The result was simple – an angrier marine, and a hole in the wall. The Inquisitor spun, the leather tails of his coat whirling. He drew his machine-pistol with his other hand, holding down the trigger as he fired at the Alpha Marine. The bullets bounced off, the Marine laughing under his death mask. The marine methodically began strafing, the methodical sound of his bolter was deafening. Rounds slammed into the wall, the Inquisitor having anticipated the Marine’s move had already leapt out of his line of fire. He holstered his plasma pistol and threw the empty auto pistol aside. He whirled again. He drew two revolvers from two holsters tucked under his coat.
He drew a rose from the inside of his coat. She took the rose, her smile showing more than the innocence that was expected of her. She cherished it, rolling it between her hands and burying her nose in it. Such items were not common place in the Hives of Gavin V, and only a noble of Dmitri’s standing would even be able to afford such luxuries. Such a gift was one that was not ignored.
Nor was the gift that the Inquisitor gave the Marine. Cael leapt onto a table, firing his revolvers. Holes ripped into the Chaos Marine’s armor, yet he still kept coming. He fired his bolter, a shot hitting Cael straight in the chest. A rippling of blue energy could be seen as he was thrown back against the wall, his power armored chest plate absorbing and dispersing the true damage of the .75 bolter round. Subconsciously, he thanked the artificer who had provided it for him. He rose from the ground in a crouch, the wall behind him dented from the impact. The young girl screamed as she watched the horrible fight in front of her.
Sasha screamed, and then bawled when she heard the news. She had not yet thanked the Emperor for her life, yet, her time with Dmitri had saved them both. The families lay dead. The news was slow coming – but it did trickle down eventually. Herman Hegel was in debt, no one knew about it save his wife. The gang was quick, they came during the reception. It was bloody. Much of the family was caught off guard, they were killed quickly. Herman was gunned down, as was his wife, Beatrice, Vladimir Cael, and nay other that happened to walk in their path. It was obvious they intended to leave no witnesses. They had not intended for the Arbitres to respond so quickly. The thugs were killed, all of them, but the Emperor’s vindication was too late. Dmitri was to be sent off to study with a distant relative, an Inquisitor. He had little choice in the option, for an orphan had little else to do save give their life to the Imperium. Sasha, she was to be sent to a Monastery, one dedicated to the Church. She would see much of death. So would Dmitri.
The Inqusitor would see it here. He heard the revolvers click empty; all ten shots had been expended. The Marine was nearly on top of him now, howling, his knife held above his head. A knife that was as long as Cael’s torso. Cael tried to leap back, finding only wall. The Marine raised his knife. The Inquisitor spun, his long white hair blurring with his brown coat, looking something like a dirty snowfall. There was an attack. The weapon found its mark, impaling its target. Cael’s hand clutched the weapon. The Marine’s hand dropped his own. The stake had found its mark, driven straight through the chest of the foolhardy marine. Blood dripped down from under his helmet. He slumped onto the ground, his gigantic form making an equally gigantic crunch as it hit the wooden floor. Cael wrenched the stake from the chest of the marine, stabbing it again in the head. There was no sense taking the risk that the marine may again rise to do battle. They were a hardy breed. The girl sat in the corner, her face wet with tears, yet making no sound. Her legs were curled in front of her, fully exposed by promiscuous clothing the Captain had made her wear. His cold blue eyes met her desperate ones.
Despite her beauty, he did not smile.
He leaned up against a wall, his hat shadowing his face. He lit a cigarette and took a long drag from it. The Marine’s body still lay in the middle of the room, minus the power stake, which was now tucked away in his over coat. He looked down at the girl. She looked back up at him.
“You serve a heretic,” Cael said coldly. The girl remained speechless. “This is not the time for you to remain silent. You will speak one way or another.” The girl shivered slightly.
“My l..lord, I did not know!”
The Inquisitor dropped his cigarette on the ground and stepped on it. He walked up to the girl and smacked her across the face with the handle of his plasma pistol. She cried out and fell over, clutching her face.
“You will not lie to me. Let’s start easier this time, what is your name?”
She was curled into a fetal position, sobbing into her hands. The Inquisitor walked up and kicked her in the stomach. She cried out in pain, sobbing again. “Answer me.”
She stammered. “Al..Aliana Cofffield.”
“Well, Aliana, why are you serving a heretic?” He crouched down, resting his hands on his knees. His plasma pistol dangled from his right hand between his legs. The girl finally sat up slightly and looked towards him. Her face was streaked with tears, her makeup and hair disheveled. Her cheek was bleeding from where she’d been struck by the pistol. She clutched her stomach. He waited a few minutes. “Are you ready to answer? I am not providing for many more opportunities.”
She looked up to him. “He, he, made me. My father – I was sold to him – I was a servant for him. Please, my lord! Don’t hurt me! Please, let me live, by the Emperor!”
“We are off to a better start, Aliana. What do you know of his associations with that?” He motioned with his pistol towards the remains of the Space Marine. He looked towards her, and awaited an answer. She gave none. He struck her again. This time, the Inquisitor walked towards her and grabbed her head with his hands, one on each side. He closed his eyes, his mind connecting towards the warp. It was not often he manifested such powers. Regardless of the Emperor’s blessing in using such, it was not something he preferred to do. Humans were not ready to use the Warp, including one as evolved as him. Yet, the girl did not lapse into the somber that so many usually do. He felt something strange, at first, he did not recognize it. He had never felt this before. Cael held on for a few moments before realizing what he felt, or rather, the lack thereof.
There was nothing.
The Inquisitor stepped back from the girl and looked down at her. “How intriguing,” Cael said quietly to himself. The girl cried still, yet looking more confused than anything. At that moment, two Stormtroopers and Gaius, the Mechanic Adept entered the room. He had radioed for them at the end of the confrontation. The Stormtroopers wore the brown Carapace of Cael’s men, the Inquisitorial I engraved on their chest plates. Their Hellguns hummed quietly. Cael looked towards them, “Clean up this mess and detain this girl. I want her brought back to my quarters. Do not tell anyone you brought her out, or of what you saw here. She will be interrogated later.” His gaze shifted towards Gaius. “Gaius, tap into the Captain’s computer. I’m sure he’ll appreciate sharing what information he has stored in there.”
The Inquisitor holstered his plasma pistol and crouched down in front of the girl. “You’re a very special girl, Aliana. You have no idea of your potential.”
She recoiled mentally at the Inquisitor’s words. She had hoped with the Captain’s death she would not be a whore. She was mortified to hear she still would be one.
Chapter VII: Who protects the protector?
“So, what do you know of our departed friend, the Colonel?”
“Nothing, I’ve told you!”
“Am I to believe he shared nothing with what is obviously his personal concubine?” The Inquisitor leaned back in his oaken chair, his long white hair cascading to his shoulders. His chin rested on his hand, the fingers of the same occasionally gesturing with his speech. The Inquisitor’s Bionic hand did the opposite, remaining motionless on the arm of the chair. The fingers sat in what was almost a clenched form over the end of the arm chair, remaining utterly motionless.
The girl sat on the opposite end of the room, draped by the Inuqisitor’s Robes. He could not stand such needless indecency – some part of him moved his conscious to provide for the girl some attempt to salvage her dignity. Her treatment, that she’d likely received for all of her life, had already destroyed it enough.
“My Lord, I insist, he tells me nothing. I’ve been naught but an item to him. He treated me as a dog – but, it was better than the other option.”
The Inquisitor knew full well what the other option was, but pushed the question regardless. “And what was that?”
“Death, at best. Starvation, poverty, common prostitution, you know what life awaits one such as I!”
His mechanical arm buzzed as the fingers on the hand tapped against the arm of the chair, interrupting the mechanizations rest period. The Inquisitor sighed, his eyes drifting off, gazing out the window. It had been 49 standard hours since he last slept – he’d taken enough of the serum, which was provided by the Ordo Hereticus, to keep him alert to a rather substantial degree. Yet, his nerves were beginning to break. He was beginning to become frustrated.
The fist clenched and slammed down into the arm of the chair, cracking the wood. The girl backed up into her own chair as if she was trying to find some hidden nook where she could hide herself. His eyes leveled back to the girl. “You must forgive my frustration, Aliana. You must understand the difficulty of my job, and how the appearance of both a Space Marine, the death of my prime source for interrogation, and now the presence of you, a Pariah, would disrupt much of my mission. However – I suppose that this is in your favor.” The Inquisitor paused for a moment, his true hand lowering itself from his chin and resting itself on the undamaged arm of the chair, “I am providing you with a choice, Aliana. One, you may serve me in dignity and for the glory of the Emperor. One such as yourself has great potential – such potential that I can not allow you to fall into the wrong hands. You will server as one of my retainers, and will act in my stead in places where the Warp’s influence is too strong for my immediate intervention. Your, how should I say this, lack of soul makes you rather adept at such a situation. You will be more than sufficiently trained on how to handle yourself.”
The girl watched the Inquisitor, with a look of both fear and disapproval in her eyes. “And my second option?”
“I will kill you now. I can not allow you to fall into the hands of the enemies of the Imperium, and believe me, you are too powerful an item to allow that possibility.”
The girl looked at him for a moment. “Then, I will serve you.”
“Good, then for now, I will be leaving you under the marked protection of my men.” The Inquisitor motioned to the two stormtroopers who had stood silent by the door. Their armor was a pattern of deep brown and black. The only color seemed to be the blue of their eye obscuring visors. They stepped forward and the Inquisitor motioned the girl to rise. She did, and the group stepped out of the room. The Inquisitor sat in his chair, thinking to himself, reflecting. He rubbed his temple with his true hand, and let out a hefty sigh, relaxing his posture in the chair. He detested being so immersed in the constant presence of others, and he felt he had more than earned a few moments of personal contemplation. Yet, it seemed such was not to be. His door buzzed open, mechanically. It was Karlston. Karlston was one of the Inquisitor’s Acolytes, and one of the two officers in charge of his personal entourage of soldiers. He was clad in Carapace armor similar to that of the other stormtroopers, plus the addition of Sergeant Chevrons on his right thigh plate. He had one of the new MK-X Energy Boltguns strapped across his chest, a weapon the Inquisitor was thoroughly thankful for.
“My Lord, I apologize for the interruption, but I am afraid you have a visitor.”
“Tell him I will speak with him later.”
“I am afraid, my Lord, that he demands your presence now.”
“Who is he to demand my presence?”
“I believe that he is a psyker, one of some degree of potency. He bears the marks of one who has been sanctioned and blessed by our Lord the Emperor.”
“Then he already knows what I will do, and he would not have come if I was going to say no.”
“Is that an agreement to see him now, Lord Inquisitor?”
“Yes, send him in.”
The Inquisitor sighed, the Emperor’s servants never rested.
Chapter VIII: The Eyes of the Blind
“So, why is it you have come to me, seer?”
“I suppose one with such a minor connection to the warp such as yourself would have little chance of understanding such an in depth reason, would they not?” The seer stood, hunched at the back. His frame was nothing but bone – the robe draping off of his body, giving him the look of something that should have long passed away. His eyes were covered by a blindfold. This was likely the result of the conditioning that the psyker had experienced. Despite this, the Inquisitor managed that the seer saw in more vibrant colors than he could have ever imagined.
The Inquisitor reclined in the chair. He ignored the seer’s condescending statement. “So, then you should thoroughly understand the importance of my time, and therefore you should not waste it. Why is it you have come before me?”
“I see what you do not.”
“And what is that?”
“The corruption within that you hunt.”
“What do you know of the governor?”
“He appears to be a pious man, outwardly. He is alert in dealing with his people – as well as the importance of the secrecy of such an investigation as this. He maintains the appearance of the Imperium’s strength within the government, and has shown no sign that there remains any weakness – despite the obvious. He is an effective leader, and is more than apt at showing the people what is necessary for the highest production in the benefit of the Imperium.”
”Have you not considered that he is showing you what you wish?”
“Explain, the charges that I assume you to levy are not light.”
“Have you not considered that all of the money used by the rebels has been traced back to government officials? The Captain that you killed, yes, I know that you removed him already. The thoughts are on your mind as we speak this moment, but let me not further digress – the Captain that you killed was a cousin of Broderick. Have you not noticed the connections?”
The Inquisitor narrowed his eyes and sighed inwardly – it was not often he had missed something such as this, and he hated being corrected, but the situation was true. He had not yet noticed this, and while he likely would have in time – as soon as his acolytes finished with the background checks into the Captain, he would have known. Yet, that could have been weeks, and even then it could have continued to mislead him.
“So you infer that the governor funded the rebellion? Why would he do that? They tried to murder him. I would think if he wanted suicide, he would have chosen a better option.”
“A man of pride has difficulty seeing himself.”
”Do not speak in riddles, tell me now – or I swear, I will charge you with impeding my investigation.”
”Impede? You would not do that. I have aided you more in that short sentence than you would have been able to do in weeks. You know that as well as I, and I already know that you won’t have me killed. I would not have wasted my life if that was to be the events of the future. The Emperor’s Tarot has already foretold this meeting – and you may instill no fear in me, Dmitri.”
The Inquisitor clenched his fist and rested his chin on it, looking at the insightful seer. He pondered, thinking into the Seers words. Could Broderick have organized the rebellion to consolidate power? But why would he organize such, and to think, he nearly lost it. The planet was close to being condemned to Exterminatus – the only path necessary to purge a revolution that included too much of a population. Yet – could this have been a ruse? Such seemed too far fetched. Not to mention he had discovered the involvement of the fallen marines. The Inquisitor questioned how they would be involved with both sides.
“I know that your mind is confused, Inquisitor.” The seer interrupted his thoughts, “but you are a man of some skill in deduction. I believe that you will discover what you need. I am afraid, Dmitri, that the Tarot has revealed no more. I will not take any more of your time, or mine, for I am afraid that duty calls me elsewhere.”
“Yes, attend to what you will.” The Inquisitor was still lost in thought.
“Then I bid you His blessings, Dmitri, may you find what you look for on Gavin V, for I feel that He has brought you hear for more than a witch hunt, Lord Inquisitor.”
The Inquisitor nodded absently, saying nothing. The seer nodded and turned, leaving the room, walking with some strange dignity despite his hunched back.
It never ceased to amaze the Inquisitor what those truly attuned could see.
“It’s been a long time,” said the Inquisitor.
“It has, my Lord.”
“I’m afraid we’re presented with a problem, Mother-Superior.”
“I am aware of that, or you would not have called upon our order.”
“This is true. Out of all the detachments they could have sent, I’m surprised they sent yours.”
“That is unimportant.”
“This is true,” the Inquisitor folded his arms behind his back. He was wearing his breastplate of Carapace, and his overcoat. His rows of holsters and knives, as well as the shotgun strapped to his back, gave him a rather threatening look. He looked like a man ready to go to war, and indeed, he was. “You know the Governor Broderick, yes?”
“I am aware of him, yes.”
“I’m afraid that he is our traitor, Mother-Superior. A psychic attuned to the Emperor’s will visited me but two nights ago. He brought forth that I consider such. My readings of the Emperor’s Tarot have brought me even closer to such a case.”
“I trust in your understanding, my Lord.” The Sister bowed. Her hair was stark white, falling neatly to her chin. Despite her bionic eye, she was still beautiful. Her powered armor was silver, trimmed with red. Her bolter was strapped across her chest, and appeared monstrous against her otherwise small frame. “What other information have you uncovered?”
“My acolytes were as diligent as I could hope for, and have understood much. Let me show you,” the Inquisitor powered up the nearby Servitor, which had previously laid motionless. Its torso included a screen, which whirred to life, just as it did. It flickered, a line of black appeared, flickering before the picture came into view. The insides of the Imperial Palace shown brightly. “My men have placed numerous cameras in the palace per my order. So far we have revealed the following. Servitor, queu video 2, run video – Camera Main.” A picture appeared on the screen. Governor Broderick can be seen speaking with a horned Space Marine. The marine’s face is horribly contorted obviously victim of the perils of the warp. Upon his shoulder shown the hydra of the Alpha Legion. After a few moments, Video 2 ran. Video 2 displayed another harrowing scene – Purple Banners hung from the Governor’s office. Each displayed the green sigil of the Hydra. “Is such obvious evidence not enough?”
“But then – what were the rebels doing?”
“My theory on such is this – they uncovered his plot before us. Likely, they tried to remove him, but their power was not strong enough, and as demonstrated, they have been silenced. I believe that Broderick asked for an investigation simply so that any of their remnants are rooted out. I doubt he expected himself to fall under such scrutiny.”
“It would seem the Emperor’s Light has guided you well, then,” said the Sister. The Inquisitor nodded absently and disengaged the Servitor.
He hesitated a moment, and then spoke. “You see now why I have called for your order, I am doubtful the Governor will allow me easily into his palace. Our first meeting was elsewhere – and I assume he intends to keep it that way. I will likely need your sisters to aid in a military capacity, as expected. You have 6 standard hours, prepare your soldiers.”
“I will do so in haste, my Lord Inquisitor.” The Mother-Superior turned and left the room. The Inquisitor was alone save for the silent Servitor. He sighed. Beauty must truly be eternal.
Chapter X: The Moth and the Fire
“Governor Broderick! By the name of the Emperor and the writ of the High Lords of Terra, you are commanded to step forth immiedetley!” The sister dialogus’s vox caster amplified her voice to the most of extreme decibels as the Inquisitor and his retinue entered into the foyer of the Imperial Palace. With the assistance of the Order of the Argent Heart, the men and women under the command of the Inquisitor had fallen upon the palace but a few hours before. The attack had been swift – caught by complete surprise, the defense forces around the palace fell quickly. The few traitor marines who were sighted did little to hold off the relentless attack of those blessed by the Emperor. Yet, the most difficult portion was only about to begin.
The Inquisitor’s eyes surveyed the great hall. Banners displaying the Eye of Chaos now hung Where banners displaying the aquilla of the Imperium once were. The sight left a taste in his mouth more bitter than any herb. Such corruption was of the worst kind – and there is no more painful enemy to fight than the enemy within. To his left was the Pariah, her name was unimportant to him now. She had already been implanted with a variety of machinations that marred her beautiful skin, but would do much in preventing any psychic damage to his own. He looked to his right, where the Sister Dialogus exclaimed the Imperial Decree. Next to her was Marius, one of Cael’s handpicked soldiers who answered only to him. There were once three, the other two had died in combat. Marius changed the clip in his bolter, his face hidden behind the tinted visor of his helmet. The Sister fell silent. The click of Marius chambering a round was the only noise in the room, that is, until one seemed to descend from the heavens itself.
A balcony encircled the seemingly endless roof of the great hall. The creak of a door from above echoed throughout the room. Quiet footsteps were heard as the Inquisitor looked upwards. He felt it, the disturbance in the Warp. Not a moment passed before the Sister’s body collapsed to the floor, her head gone, lost in a splash of blood and a hideous popping noise. Marius’s bolter made a deafening echo as he shot blindly up towards the balcony, but it was not long before he too collapsed, blood splattering his visor from the inside. The Inquisitor felt the own pain in his head, yet his own strength was enough to divert it to the pariah – who screamed out in agony as her body acted a psychic lightning rod, her soulless essence absorbing the powers of the warp into the pipes attached to her skin. The Inquisitor’s eyes leapt upwards at the sound of movement. A shadowed form seemed to float downwards from the balcony above, landing softly on its feet. It was Broderick.
“And so our paths cross here, Inquisitor.” Broderick was dressed in the flowing robes of crimson, his fat build remained, yet his eyes burned with fires that would spring from the hells themselves. “You are more industrious than I thought.” He smiled, the greasy tone of his skin replaced with a shining one, one that dripped with the mental strength he had once hid.
The Inquisitor drew his plasma pistol. “You have betrayed your post as given to you by the High Lords of Terra. Your sentence is execution.” The Inquisitor raised the gun, aimed and fired in one steady motion. The bolt of plasma speeded across the twelve feet between them, before being stopped short of its mark by a repulsion field.
“Do you believe I’d fall pray to a machine’s tool? I laugh at such weapons.” He threw his hand out, light rushing forth. The Inquisitor felt the pain in his mind – his tool was too weak to absorb it. His body was thrown against the stone wall, his plasma pistol sliding away from his hand. He slumped against it, fully able to feel the pain of the warp. His head pulsed with painful energy as he stepped up, only to see Broderick walking slowly towards him.
“You are clever, Dmitri. But this is more than you should have ever discovered. The Emperor has no place on Gavin V.” Broderick gestured upwards, pushing the Inquisitor up against a wall. He struggled to pull himself from the psychic grasp of Broderick, but to no avail. “Men like us, Dmitri, are the new man. We are of the next step in humanity – the great leap forward. Yet, I am afraid, you have chosen to silence those of us who are part of this. You, and so many others. You do not understand the power you could hold, Dmitri! You see how I toss you around like a rag doll?” Broderick slammed the Inquisitor against the wall, the Inquisitor slumped onto the ground, clutching his side and let out a groan, his piercing eyes meeting Broderick as blood dripped down from his lip.
“You are a traitor to humanity, Broderick! Such powers are a gift that so few are ready for! They can not be allowed to roam free!”
“But, you see, we’re too powerful, men like you and I.” Broderick raised his hand and pinned the Inquisitor against the wall again. “I suppose you want to know why I called you here, after all, the rebellion was not as black and white as it may seem. It’s simple – this planet has become nothing but a battle ground for the true Gods. They were no more loyal to the Emperor’s cause than I am. You were a fool to think that, and I can read it in your mind right now. Yes, you wonder why money of the government was traced to them. It’s simple – my own officers were not loyal to me, I could not expect that from them. They were working for me, at the time. Before they decided they had their fill. Yes, you wonder why you killed an Alpha Marine when their banners hang from my chambers – it is simple, really. The legions are no more united than my own forces, and they fight for who they may, and are just as ready to fight amongst themselves as against the Imperium. So, you see Dmitri, things have a funny way of coming together. I’m afraid that your men are too strong – I have no chance of escape, yet, neither will you Dmitri. I will take my own perverse pleasure in ending what blink of an eye you call a life.” Broderick tossed the Inquisitor aside. From his robes he drew a knife, the blade adorned with signs of Chaos, a perverse black energy dancing around it, like a torch’s flame. “You have fallen into my hands, Dmitri, like the fire draws a moth, and I will end it just as so.”
The Heretic rose the blade above his head, and plunged it downwards. The Inquisitor seized every ounce of energy to roll out of the way and into a crouched position, as the knife dug harmlessly into the ground. The Heretic yelled in rage as he pulled the blade, crackling with energy, from the ground and turned to the Inquisitor. He cast his hand out, sending the force of the Warp against the servant of the Imperium. Yet, the Inquisitor’s will power had garnered itself. He staggered, but was not thrown back. He stood up straight, and wiped the blood from his mouth. The Inquisitor thrust out his own hand, the searing bolts of warp energy flying forth towards the Heretic, whose own mind had anticipated just such and they were dispelled before they reached their target. The Heretic laughed maniacally, “You are strong, Dmitri. Yet, I am sad to say evolution favors me.” The Heretic fired a bolt of energy from his hand, flying towards the Inquisitor. It slammed into his chest – burning the powered armor, but not puncturing it. He was thrown off balance, and onto his back. Yet, the Inquisitor pulled himself up, grunting, and drew his bolt pistol with his natural hand. It was the last weapon in reach with any ammunition, yet he had saved it for this very situation. He took aim, his white hair fluttering in the ethereal wind of this collision of minds. The Pariah writhed on the floor, some sparks of the energy being absorbed into her body. The Inquisitor pulled the trigger, the bolt leaving a blue trail in the air is it seared towards the Heretic, smashing into his chest and with a burst of blood, dropping him to his knees. The pain of the Heretic rung out in the Inquisitor’s head, and he dropped the pistol, falling to his knees. He clutched his head, screaming out in pain at the disturbance in the warp. He staggered up and pistol from the ground, limping towards the Heretic. He pushed the barrel against the Heretics head and fired. With that, he dropped to the gun and slumped to the ground. The body, you see, can only take so much of the Warp before simply overloading on it.
For that moment, Dmitri felt the screams of a million lost souls.
Final Chapter Comming Soon!
Woah there's really not much I can say - Awesome story, personally I like the way you've depicted the Inquisitor, makes me think of Harrison Ford in Blade Runner ^^ - He's professional but you see a human side to him as well, and his reactions to danger are awesome as well.
The only small criticism (if I may allow myself ^^) is that Sasha is acctually a boy's name in Russian, if you intended to go for that type of Tsarist effect ^.^; Most westerners think it's a girl's name due to the way it sounds, and indeed it does pass for one, but it's really more of a boy's nickname.
Anyway that's the only bubble I wanted to bust hehe - Other than that, keep writin'!
The Inquisitor awoke several hours later. It would have been obvious to a man of lesser involvement with the holier aspects of the Empire that he was obviously in a sacred place. The gothic architecture towered above him. Curved buttresses extended over his head, disapeering into the blackness of the endless point of the chapel. His head pounded. The Inquisitor looked down at his now naked torso - burnt from the psychic energies that ravaged his body. He flinched in pain. His arm whirred to life as he stirred, sitting up on the metal table. A servo-skull seemed to descend from the darkness, its red eye shining on him before letting out a low pitch whir and flying off into the darkness. He stood up. The boots which still covered his feet clapped on the floor as he did so. That is when she made herself known.
"The Hospitaller told me you would recover quickly," said the Sister. Her hair was black, not the color Dmitri remembered. Her robes were adorned with her symbols of office, the fleur de lise of the order, the signs of her rank as a Cannoness. Her right eye was covered by the cybernetics of the Machine God, allowing her to keep her sight. She still looked beautiful. The Sister stepped closer to Dmitri. "He is dead - the governor. My Sisters and your troops are cleanig up what is left of heathens. We may thank the Emperor that you have not recieved the same fate as those we fight against." A vague smiled cracked her pale face.
"Then my job is finished, Sister," said the Inquisitor. His armor and clothes were piled upon the floor. He began to methodicaly pull them on. "The Emperor's servants thank you for your service." The two were silent as he donned his clothes, his armor, and finally his coat. His white hair laid straight against the sides of his head, falling past his shoulders. The Inquisitor's gaze fixed itself on Sister Sasha Hegel, his gaunt cheeks and blue eyes staring into her. "Have you more to say to me?"
"Yes," she said curtly.
"Then say it," he said.
"I am glad to see you survived, I was afraid when we arrived that it was too late."
"My life is unimportant - its only purpose is the absoloution of the Emperor's enemies."
"You know there is more to you than that, Dmitri Cael," she smiled faintly, the crowes feet at the corner of her good eye becoming visible. Despite his hardened shell, he still found her, well, was it charming? Perhaps. "I chose to be by your side, Dmitri. I couldn't fathom the thought of you being dead. It is a sin, I know." She sighed, shaking her head slightly. Sasha's eyes met Dmitri's again. "But it is not one I could avoid - my heart speaks differently than my mind. When I saw you, Dmitri Cael, back here, I couldn't wait to see you. The girl in me, it waited for you every minute." She stepped close to Dmitri. The Inquisitor could feel her breath on his face, and her his. His eyes met her's - the beautiful Sasha's. The Sister's. It was forbidden. She grabbed his real hand and silently held it against her breast. He could feel the very beating of he heart, before she heavily opened her mouth again. "And yet, my silent love, it can not be." She backed away slowly.
"I know," said Dmitri.
"Of course you do - our lives have brought us away from this, Dmitri. This isn't for us - and never, in this world shall it be."
"Perhaps in another, Sasha?" Dmitri rose his eyebrows slightly, questioningly.
She laughed lightly, "Watch your words Dmitri, else you will be hunting yourself." He cracked a smile at Sasha's comment. She reached into her robe and took out a long chain, at the end hanging the Fleur symbol of her order. "I should not do this - but, we can't always do what is right to do good." She handed the chain, of dozens of beeds, into the hands of the Inquisitor. "With this I give you what portion of me I may - in this life, I am afraid, there is nothing else I can do. I doubt you will find yourself on this world again, and I doubt our paths shall ever be so intertwined as well. Take it with you, and with it, you take what part of me you can."
He took the chain and stuck it in one of the pockets of his heavy coat. He picked his hat up from the floor and put it on his head, the shadow immiedetley finding its place amongst his eyes. The Inquisitor nodded. He patted her once on the shoulder with his bionic arm and stepped past her, out of the chapel.
Later, on his ship, his hand fingered the chain in his pocket.