The Radical Inquisitor
Note from the writer: This was just a random idea I began ages ago, and ended up stopping from various reasons. This wasn't from the /tg/ board, but i just wrote it directly here on the site, so apologies for not posting something actually from the board itself. Anyways, its very unlikely I'll come back to this, so anyones welcome to continue/edit/add on different things if they feel like it.
So how was it going to end?
Chapter 1[edit | edit source]
It was quiet in his quarters. He had stated that he had wanted some privacy for a few hours, and privacy was what he got. The last thing anyone would like to have is an Inquisitor that is more-than-annoyed at you for not leaving him the hell alone. He was sitting in the comfy leather chair he had fitted into his private quarters when he claimed ownership of the vessel, the Vox Luna, which he had had for some time now, around a decade and a half. It was decent sized, not nearly as large as Imperial battleships but a fair bit larger than civilian vessels, apart from the colossal cargo-haulers that plied the stars on their routes to distant planets needing supplies, most of them desperately, due to the rather disastrous state of the Imperium as a whole. Yes, it continued to function, but like a man who has lost a leg and is left alone in the wilderness, bleeding out and waiting for death, the only things keeping him going willpower, hope and faith. Ah, faith, that was something he had not felt very much of for, how long? A few months, a year, two years? It didn't matter - what mattered was whether or not he could find solution to solve at least one of the many problems the Imperium of Man faced in order to help prolong its life, and maybe (he thought with a bit of hope) save it.
Pushing aside the problems for another time, for the thousandth time, he opened the cabinet he had on the side of his desk, and pulled out one of the things which made him smile - a glass bottle of Yrettian, a drink from his home planet of Zerzura, a desert world in the galactic north-east of the Segmentum Obscurus. From what he could remember of his time on the planet, the drink was made from fermented fungi and fruits found by the oasis's that dotted the landscapes, before being distilled and mixed with a solution made up of water, spices and the venom from the kilometre long land worms which prowl the enormous desert wastes of the planet. Uncorking the bottle, and smelling the rather sweet and sour flavour flow from the neck, he poured himself a small glass of the dark-red drink. Then, corking the bottle again, he raised his glass to his rosette, which was hanging from the small serpentwood candle stand on his desk. "Ave Imperator," he said, toasting the man who was the single most powerful symbol in the entire human race. When he sipped the beverage from his home, the flavours brought back memories of his past on Zerzura: the sights of the bustling city of the capitol, the wildly dressed people, the rich mixture of fumes and sounds that overlaid everything he saw.
"M'lord," he received through the vox built into the surface of his desk. He sighed to himself, then reached over and pressed the rune on the desk.
"Yes," he replied, taking another small sip of his drink.
"The sensors are picking up disturbances, and we thought that you might need to see them."
He sighed to himself again, then said "I will be there shortly, captain," before cutting the transmission. He finished his drink, then left the glass on the desk. He picked up his rosette, the red stylised 'I' of the holy Inquistion with a horned skull on its face. He hung it from around his neck, and felt the tingling sensation as the conversion field enveloped him in its protection. Not that he would need it, but he just liked having the assurance of some instantanious protection. He got his shoulder holster and put it on, and placed the long slender hot-shot laspistol (adapted and improved so that it could do some serious damage if needed) into it, feeling the scroll-worked barrel fitting neatly into the leather sleeve on his side. He then retrieved his greatcoat, a piece lined with light but superdense materials that could stop an autogun round if needed - again he liked the protection. He then went over to the mirror on one of the walls, and looked himself over.
He had a full head of rust coloured hair, which he kept fairly short. His skin, like his hair, was also rust coloured - not to the same degree as his hair, but still a rich orange-brown colour. He had a 'handsome face', as per the opinion of various female nobles and higher-ups from the planets he had seen - a somewhat square jaw, light blue eyes, and a healthy complexion. He had broad shoulders and was fairly tall, and he made sure that he was fit and strong, his body coated in lean muscle. Rubbing his eyes of dust which formed when he dozed, he made himself presentable - he had standards to maintain. He was an Inquisitor, after all.
Satisfied, he walked over to the door, and pressed the large rune on the wall next to the portal. With a click, and a c-chunk, the door unlocked, and then with a hiss opened, allowing passage into the corridor beyond. Leaving his room, Inquisitor Quintus Gaermann strode down the hall, towards the bridge of his vessel. As he went to the bridge he heard footsteps catch up to his own, then followed him. Smiling to himself, he looked over his shoulder to see his acolyte, Jannos Wheart. She was dressed in black uniform, her own seal on the breast of her coat, while her black hair was neatly done up and pulled back. Her face was focused, but it warmed up when she saw him looking at her. Turning forwards again, Quintus continued to the bridge, Jannos in tow.
He reached the bridge in around five minutes, his quarters not too far from the main base of operations on the ship. Serfs ran around on the lower deck of the bridge, performing tasks around the dridge of the Vox Luna while servitors hardwired into the consoles rapidly numbered in commands, keeping the ship in its exact position, processing and recording the input from the various sensors found on the ship while also transmitting and receiving messages from around the vessel, keeping the ship in top functioning condition at a pace that would be incomprehensible for the normal serfs. On the higher deck of the bridge, sat Captain Stronti Hyervak, a short but sturdy man of tougher stuff than most others in the human race. He barked orders occasionally, small things most of the time, such as moving the ship slightly or for someone to fetch him his drink, cigar or whatever he needed at the time.
"Captain," Quintus said, to get the attention of the man while he walked towards him, Jannos still following him. "You called."
"Ah, m'lord," said Stronti, relaxing slightly as he saw Quintus, finding someone to share in the stress of their current predicament. "The sensors found something." A serf standing nearby walked over, holding a dataslate in his hands.
"M'Lord, a disturbance was found approximately 12.36 minutes ago, roughly 3.4 thousand kilometres to the port of the Vox Luna. It appears to be a warp disturbance, and the Navigator has reported that he can see something in the Immaterium, but he cannot discern what it exactly is. The sensors and the Navigotar both say that the object is not large - it is maybe the size of a small shuttle, or a piece of space detritus, and it is the sole thing entering realspace. It should be breaking the barriers between the warp and the material universe in approximately seven minutes."
"Thank you, you may return to your station," said Quintus, his imagination producing various scenarios and ideas as to what the object, right now tearing its way through the veils of reality, is. "Any other information Captain?"
"Not much else i'm afraid. Suggested course of actions?"
Quintus thought for a moment before speaking. "Message the soldiers, tell them to prepare for an unknown object being transported to the ship imminently. Also, prepare a shuttle large enough to transport the object back to the Luna. Message the Magi, as well - they'll need to prepare in case there is anything that might be useful on board the vessel."
"Yes, lord," said Stronti, before barking at the serfs and Servitors to carry out his instructions.
Contemplating the events taking place currently, Quintus walked off to the side, away from the Captain, and talked quietly with Jannos. "We need to be careful about this - for all we know, there could be a moral threat on the object. If that is the case, we'll need to prepare for that scenario - prepare the equipment, and fetch Veryn, he'll be useful if this turns ugly."
"Yes, m'Lord," Jannos responded, turning and leaving for the depths of the ship.
Quintus returned to his quarters, and looked around his desk. The majority of his quarters was made up from the thing; his quarters were not very large, he preferred it that way. It had his bed, a small cogitator unit, a wardrobe with his clothes, and his desk. Littered all over the desk were bits and pieces: pieces of metal, wiring, sheets of paper, and other things. Underneath the desk was a safe, a solid block of metal with a keypad with 35 separate keys, and needing a 35 digit code to be entered in order to open it - the sheer number of possibilities as to the correct code keeping its contents secured for as long as need be.
Quintus knelt down after locking the door, and punched in the code, having memorised it as soon as he could. When the safe received the full code, it beeped, and then with a mechanical crunch, the door opened. Preparing himself for it, he opened the safe fully, exposing its sealed interior. There was one thing in the safe, and it was his duty to protect the object from prying eyes. It was his Grimoire - a list of the names of daemons that inhabited the realm beyond reality.
Inquisitor Quintus Gaermann was an agent of the Ordo Malleus, the Daemonhunters - it was his line of work that dealt with those nightmares.
Picking up the book, whose surface seemed to writhe with the horrors of the names it contained. Carefully, he opened the book.
The words on each of the pages weeped malice and dark promises. It disgusted Quintus to think that their existed beings that could be called such vile names. Giving the book a quick read, he skimmed over some of the contents of the piece, each name held inside making his own insides coil and unravel with horror. He shut the book quickly, letting his gut settle from the churning it experienced when reading the pages.
Getting up, he looked around the rest of his room, and picked up his sword.
It was a magnificent weapon, Quintus knew as a fact. Its curved blade was inscribed with scrollwork, which he knew would channel the powers which he kept in check. The hilt had a horned skull on it, to match his Rosette, while the eyes were made of a deep, dark crystal of evershifting colour. The handle was wrapped with leather, inscribed with wards against those from beyond.
He attached the sheath to his belt, and now armed with his weapons of choice, he strode back out into the hall.
The shuttle slowed down as it neared the object that had appeared from the warp. 45 minutes earlier, the disturbance had finally reached its end, and spat out the object detected earlier that day. What appeared was, in appearance, a lump of rock. However, scans revealed that there was something inside the lump. Some thing made of small extremely dense and rare metal. When the pair of Magi heard about it, they contacted Quintus immediately, which was when he had to pry out the understandable words from the rapid fire gossip between the twins, a mixture of High Gothic, Low Gothic and Binaric in seemingly random combinations - what was obvious was that they wanted to inspect the object. Right. Now.
Finally, the shuttle stopped. It was a rather blunt craft, and it didn't exactly match the Vox Luna in its glory - but it flew, and it had served for many years, so it deserved at least some respect. It had a rather boxy design like, and it could quite comfortably fit the two squads of troopers who accompanied Quintus, Jannos and Veryn. Veryn was an... enigma, of sorts. He was technically a male, but he had an androgynous appearance. His past was unknown to them all, yet Quintus didn't care for his story. Veryn had saved his skin on more than one occasion with his guns, and so Quintus had naturally taken him along to help him with his work - he was currently wearing the body armour and was armed with a hotshot-las gun like the rest of the troopers, yet his armour was personally decorated, and his gun modified by the two tech-priests Quintus had at hand. Jannos was wearing her own uniform, though she had replaced her coat with body armour, and she had her chainsword on her hip, at the ready. She wore a Commissar-style hat, but she herself wasn't a Commissar - she had almost comepletely gone through the training, but failed when ordered to execute her failing classmate, and refused to. Quintus had saved her skin then, saving her from being executed herself, and had taken her under her wing, based on his observations and her obvious devotion to the Emperor and His Imperium of Man.
"M'lord, the shuttle is in position. Shall we let you and the troopers off?" Voxed the pilot.
"Yes, thank you," said Quintus, while Jannos and Veryn started barking off to the troopers to fix their helmets in place. A walk across a vessel in the void, is not the most pleasant of places to be, but it was required. The troopers needed to secure the object, in case something was onboard that could be let loose - Quintus wasn't having any murderous entity running around his ship.
Quintus fixed his own helmet into place, hearing the seals hiss as they fixed into place. He, like the rest of those on the expedition, had to wear a void suit to protect himself from the hard vacuum of space. Still, he had his weapons at the ready, in case there was indeed some kind of malevolent entity on the object.
Checking that everyone was ready, Quintus contacted the pilot of the shuttle. "We are ready for the void, pilot. Please open the airlock so that we may we secure the object."
"Yes, m'lord," replied the pilot. The large doors in front of him began to grind, and with a sharp hiss the atmosphere was stripped from the hold of the shuttle, and the expedition left safety, and entered the void. Quintus could hear his own breath as he wandered out onto the outer deck of the shuttle, his boots mag-locked to the metal surface. Ahead of them was the object floating in the zero gravity of open space, hanging in front of him and the soldiers.
"Right, secure the object," he ordered. The sooner they were out of the void, the better.
Along with the two squads of troopers, a group of six serfs accompanied him, all of them trained for void-walk actions. They had packs on their backs with thrusters, allowing them to move in the void without a deck beneath them. They launched from the shuttle, each one carrying a long cable which were attached to the shuttle, and each cable ended in a claw. As they slowly flew to the object, they all gently changed their trajectory, so that they all reached different sections of the object. Eventually, they were in position, and they all clamped the cables down onto the object, the magnetic claws biting into the tough rock of the objects surface. Then, making sure the object was completely secured, they made their way back to the shuttle. When they headed back, the pilots started to haul the object back to the shuttle, towards the open mouth of the cargo hold.
As soon as the object reached the expanse of open deck, the squads surrounded it, covering each side of the thing from every possible angle available to them. They still didn't know what the object was, so precautions were still needed. Quintus walked over to it, looking over its pitted rock surface, pondering what it was. From his point of view, it looked just like an asteroid, a lump of space debris, the same taken up by Mechanicus factory ships and processed into metals and minerals for the machines they produce.
The object was now inside the shuttle, and the cables moved it into position so that when artificial gravity returned it would be left hanging over the deck of the shuttle.
"Everyone," Quintus ordered. "Into the shuttle."
At his command, the soldiers entered the shuttle still surrounding the object, the laser sights of their hotshot Lasguns leaving red dots flying over its stone skin. The airlock doors began to close, slowly sealing the people from the harsh vacuum. When they finally shut, a very loud hiss could be heard as the pilots began to fill the cargo area with an air-nitrogen mix, making it habitable for them to breathe.
"M'lord, it is safe now to remove your helmets," voxed the pilot to Quintus.
"Thank you. You heard the man, you can remove your helmets!" Quintus yelled, happy to be out of the claustrophobic suit. He undid his helmet, breathing in the artificial air, along with the serfs and his acolytes, Jannos and Veryn. The soldiers didn't remove their helmets, still primed should the object become hostile in some way. Quintus had a feeling though, that if something did come out of the thing that had around an hour previously torn itself out of the realm of madness and emotion, their Lasguns would do little to protect them.
"Back to the Vox Luna," Quintus ordered, feeling the shuttles thrusters kick up as the vessel flew over to the command ship with the unknown thing in possession.
The Vox Luna was a craft that was of some of the highest quality the Imperium could produce. It's hull was black all around and it was coated in plates of metal designed to distort and scramble scanners, making ships temporarily blind should they try to search for the ship with conventional equipment. Across the ship were sensor arrays, capable of producing information about every facet of the current area the ship was in; envy thing from where nearby asteroids or ships were, the materials that composed each of those separate things floating around in space, disturbances in the warp, radio signals, energy signatures, magnetic fluctuations, changes in Gravity, everything the crew could possibly need to find anything, anywhere in the nearby area (which for the ships capabilities, was the entirety of the system the ship was currently in). The ship was also well armed for its size - batteries of enormous guns were located on each side of the vessel, numbering 8 separate batteries, each with 3 guns, giving the ship 24 cannons capable of tearing holes in other ships. On the prow of the Vox Luna were 3 forward lance guns, each one capable of spearing opponents on beams of light. Over the ship were various small munitions turrets, designed to keep the ship clear of enemy fighters or bombers, or any craft hoping to perform a boarding action onto the Luna. The only visible symbol on the ship was the stylised 'I' of the holy Inquisition (complete with Quintus's own horned skull motif) on the prow of the sleek ship, surrounded by the forward lance batteries.
Right then, several hours after the crew had picked up the object that had torn itself from the warp, the ship tore a hole through reality, and entered warp space, leaving its current position of the dying system, where it was rumoured a space hulk existed. Though the rumours were false, Quintus had a feeling that they had found a good prize, which would be analysed by the twin Magos he had as part of his flock during the journey through warpspace to the nearest Inquistorial stronghold. The journey would take several weeks, but Quintus didn't mind - more time for him to privately examine the object, and hopefully I clock its secrets.
The tear in reality sealed itself up soon after the ship left the system, leaving nothing but tiny traces of radiation and expelled chemicals and waste, virtually invisible breadcrumbs as to who was in the sector.
Less than an hour after the Vox Luna left the system, another how, appeared in the fabric of reality. Though it, an enormous craft entered the dying system. It was a yellow and red vessel, and was in good condition. It was practically bristling with sensors and guns, and upon its sides was a symbol of the owners of the colossal craft - a red circle, with what seemed to be an angry face in the centre.
"THEY'RE GONE," said the marine in the bridge, the Angry Marine Chapter Master, Temperus Maximus. "SHITFUCK!"
Chapter 2[edit | edit source]
Dres used the las-cutter to break off more of the rock surface of the object, exposing the metallic skin beneath. When he finished on that section of the stone layer, he retracted the tool from his servo-arm, and instead brought out the heavy claw that formed the majority of the augment attached to his right shoulder blade. Sometimes, a bit of bluntness is required to go further, he thought as he used the heavy piston driven manipulator to tear off a chunk of the tough rock. A piston driven hammer then came out, shattering more of the rocky surface with each blow. The dozen mechadendrites he had coming off of his body worked tirelessly, collecting the fragments of the rock, and placing them into the bucket next to him, awaiting analysis.
On the other side of the rock, his sister worked. She was using her own augmentations to break into rock as well, though she was using her own melta attachments to liquefy the rock, having discovered that the metal beneath was extremely heat resistant, so she didn't need to worry. Her pair of smaller servo-arm came to the surface of the rock, using their small but powerful piston-driven claws to tear off the soft rock, letting it drop hissing onto the floor. Her own mechadendrites waited for the rock to cool before prying it off and dropping it into her own bucket, also awaiting analysis.
"It appears to be competely coated in a foot-thick layer of the mineral deposit, which from my knowledge seem to be a mixture of space dust and rock fused together," mused Dres, his modified vocal cords adding a mechanical tone to his voice, though the sound of his deep voice was still audible alongside the metallic sound he produced when he spoke.
"Indeed," replied Yret, his sister and twin. "The deposit of mineral on the surface of the object is simply normal space debris," she agreed. "But the object underneath is highly resistant to heat and energy - when I've accidentally scraped against the surface of the object with my claw-augments, the metal has remained unscathed. My melta attachment is easily capable of removing the rock, yet it doesn't seem to be affecting the metal underneath." Her own voice was also modified, and it had a more tinny sound to it, but also contained the sound of a very much human voice. It was one of the various reasons as to why they were outcasts from the general tech-priesthood; they believed that they should always keep themselves somewhat human, as how could they benefit humanity if they were no longer human?
"Curious," Dres responded. He stopped working, making his huge servo-arm close up like a flower with its extra attachments to aid him in his duties, and using his mechadendrites, moved his bucket of the rock shards. At the same time, he let out a screech of binary, ordering a pair of servitors nearby to continue breaking off the deposit built over the object of interest. They lumbered over, and started to work, using las-cutters and claws to smash up the rocky surface, littering the nearby ground of the twins workshop onboard the Vox Luna with shards of detritus. Yret then also let out a screech in binary, and half a dozen small child-servitors scurried over on legs or tracks, and began to quickly collect all of the shards before depositing them in the bucket next to the rock.
Dres, meanwhile, had began to process the rock shards, separating each of the individual minerals and compounds present in the shards to work out what they were made of. He worked quickly, like any tech-priest should, placing the shards into the equipment before him, a kind of miniaturised refinery - it may not have produced a usable amount of materials or resources, but it served the twins well in their duties. He watched with his half dozen camera-lens eyes and his one organic eye as figures and numbers started to fill up the screen before him. While the initial scans of the object gave a basic idea of what made up the rock surface, physically breaking up the shards at the molecular level gave the most accurate results.
"Hmm. It appears, sister, that our assumption was correct: the rock is a combination of different minerals, metals, alloys and non-metals, all of them common in dust and detritus found in the void. There is nothing overly strange about any of it, save that the compounds and minerals were fused together from some kind of intense heat and pressure."
Yret also stopped working, and ordered more servitors to continue working on the rocky object. She took her own bucket of shards to her brother, still going through the reams of information being produced by the machine in front of him. When she had done that, she walked over to another of the many pieces of machinery in their workshop - a large, boxy object with a large panel covered in buttons and levers, while a large mechanical arm, ending with a large, narrowing barrel, hung folded up on the side of the boxy technology. She went over to the panel, and using her two pairs of hands (one with 6 fingers, the other with 7) and a few of her mechadendrites, she started rapidly tapping the keys across the panel, turning the machine on and priming it for use. The machine spirit of the machine was dozy, and she felt that it was almost stretching in its own way - Pistons extended and retracted slightly, power coils charged up and then released their stored energy, and other small actions that caused Yret to smile slightly.
She continued to wake up the large plasma-torch, priming it for use to help in the work cleaning off the object, and then to maybe try and cut into the metallic surface of the thing, opening it up for inspection from their eyes, fingers and augmentations.
They both heard the beep and then grating noise as the heavy steel doors opened up to allow Inquisitor Quintus entry into their workshop. The room was the size of a hall - they had modified it themselves to accommodate the large pieces of machinery and equipment they had in the room. The smallest pieces of equipment were indivual, specialized tools, such as handheld plasma-torches or manual wrenches; the largest piece of equipment was an enormous thing of metal, cabling and panels, which sat near one side of the room. The twin Magos had built up walkways, platforms, stairs and ladders around it, to aid in its construction. They had been making it for many years know, every so often working on it when they were not immediately needed by Quintus.
"Inquisitor," they both said at the same time.
"Magi," Quintus responded, smiling at the twins. Though he hardly ever saw their faces (due to the black robes with the rust red stripe down the back they wore), he knew about their deviant beliefs from the rest of the Cult Mechanicus. Their personal ideas he preferred - he'd rather have people in touch with their humanity than people made of metal and wiring. "How goes the examination of the object?"
"Fine, my lord," said Yret, her mechadendrites coiling up and flexing as she spoke. They then told Quintus what they had gathered in respect to the deposits on the surface of the object and to the object itself. They explained in turns, each of the, continuing to work while they explained to the Inquisitor the information they currently had.
"May I ask what that is?" Quintus asked, gesturing to the machine Yret was currently priming for use.
"A plasma-torch, my lord," she responded. "There are others elsewhere in the workshop, but one is suitable enough to clean the object of its rock deposits; we'll get the others working to speed things up. I'll activate the others once this one is functioning. Hopefully, the torches should be capable of cutting open the metallic layers of the object, and expose the inner workings of the object - if it's a machine. Otherwise, we'll see the innards of whatever it is."
"Good. How long do you think you'll need to crack it open?" Quintus asked, eyebrow raised.
"Depends." Responded Dres, not looking up from his current work of extracting a second plasma-torch, this one loaded onto a small tracked unit, with cables coiled up onto a hook on the side of the main body of the machine. "If the servitors work non-stop, and the plasma-torches work as well, it should be completely cleaned of the rock deposits within 24 hours. The object itself, however, is more tricky. If there is no way to open it with conventional means (unlocking a door, inputting a code, etc.) then we will have to cut it open. Either way will take uncertain amounts of time - it may need a ridiculously long code to unlock, and the substance it is made of could take a long time for the plasma torches to cut. The best estimation, is approximately a week - but it could be a few days to months. We agreed to work on it non-stop, with at least one of us working on it while the other rests."
"Well, the journey we are taking will most likely last a few weeks to a month - given your estimation, the object should be opened before we arrive. Let's hope that is the case. Thank you, Magi, your service is greatly appreciated."
"You are very much welcome, Inquisitor," they both said, finally raising their heads, and giving Quintus the first glimpse of their faces that day. The top-right half of Dres's face was made up of metal and bionics - in place of his right eye, he had 6 camera lenses of different sizes, and the surrounding area of his skull was replaced with metal and components. Yret's face had the left side of her chin, mouth, cheek, and side of her head replaced with bionics, which extended across her scalp. The parts of her bionics which moved (such as the mouth and cheeks) were made up of dozens of tiny sections and pieces of metal, all connected and wired so that it created a metallic version of an ordinary human face, perfectly matching the opposite side of her face.
With a smile, Quintus left the two tech-priests alone to their work, exiting through the heavy blast doors which closed behind him, giving the two Magi the quiet they needed to keep working in peace.
Dres looked over to his sister. "Shall we continue, Yret?" he asked.
"Of course, Dres," replied Yret, with a half-mechanical smile. Then, they turned their full attention to their work, the servitors having broken off more of the tough rocky surface of the object.
The plasma-torches had finished burning off the rocks, the last charred fragments falling to the decking where the child-servitors picked up the red hot shards of minerals, continuing with their work despite the little flesh they had left on their hands burning away.
Now, Yret and Dres got the four plasma-torches that were activated and punched in the commands which would make them cut into the metallic surface of the object, slowly cutting out grooves in the tough surface. With all of the rock removed from the metal beneath, the object was revealed; a perfect sphere (they had checked, it was quite literally a flawless sphere) made of a single section of the ridiculously dense metal. With no obvious access, the Magi had searched for possible openings with their equipment - there was no entryway or access port, just a perfect, unending layer of metal. Seeing this, they had prepared the other plasma-torches while the currently active ones worked non-stop at the metal sphere.
Now, four days later, they had made decent progress; the torches working non-stop had rewarded the Magi with the very real possibility of opening the thing up. Each of the four grooves measured from the top of the sphere to around a quarter of the way down, each torch cutting a path from top to bottom down the sides of the sphere. Dres and Yret had done tests on the unknown metal and found that it was magnetic - this could have attracted the debris, which was then fused to the object through some way involving a great deal of heat and pressure. The discovery that it was magnetic gave them the idea however, that once the grooves were completed, they could maybe pull the sections of metal off with the powerful mag-claw they had somewhere in their workshop, and if they were connected on the inside, well, they would carefully cut away with tiny tools, atom by atom, until it was exposed to them; the two Magi were patient, determined and focused - they were prepared to do a lot of work to achieve a goal. They get the object open, no matter how long it took.
"Yret, take a look at this," said Dres, gesturing for her to come to him, who was standing by a large piece of equipment on a stand, a panel with a cable coiling out of one side, draping out of one side of the module. The other end of the cable was attached to a handheld sensor, which Dres was holding by the sphere, which now had the grooves reaching to a third of the way down the sides of the metal surface.
The panel of the machine was covered in screens and dials. One particular set was going crazy, flashing and spiking all over the place, figures in glowing red where everywhere else was a content, healthy green.
"There is some kind of radiation being given off by the object, and it is gradually increasing," Dres said, passing the handheld sensor over the object and observing it spike over the cuts made by the plasma-cutters.
"What kind of radiation?" Yret asked, peering over the machine herself, and noticed how the metallic surface was worn and corroded, with only the dials and screens readable.
"I don't know," he said, with a rather annoyed note in his voice. "It's an old machine - there are so many readouts with no labels, I can't make sense of any of it. All I know, is that there are high levels of some kind of radiation being given off by the machine, and I don't know what of."
Yret thought for a moment, then said "We keep working - we told Quintus we'd crack this thing open, and we will. We owe him that."
Dres smiled p, and then said "Quintus did save our rears back when we were on that forge world."
They remembered when they had first met Quintus - they were locked up in some cell in the crust of the planet, far below where even the press ganged workers went, kept in complete darkness with their few bionics then disabled or when possible, removed. They had stated their belief that the technology available to the Imperium could be improved greatly, and that by innovating and adapting their technology mankinds inherent right of the Galaxy would become true. They were branded as hereteks and thrown in their cell, away from the eyes of the holy techpriests. Their cell door opened, and a few Skitarii ape tired, along with a man with rust coloured skin and hair, who was taking them away for execution on some faraway planet. She smiled when she remembered that to the Adeptus Mechanicus, they were both dead. It was quite amusing really - Quintus had taken them away from harm and the Mechanicus never realised.
She walked towards the Vox unit set into the wall of the room, readying to inform Quintus of the news of the object.
Chapter 3[edit | edit source]
Rillean rubbed his eyes of the dust that collected after so many hours being closed, constantly guiding the Vox Luna towards its destination. His third warp-eye was completely open, and had been for week-and-a-half of their journey through the warp, constantly scanning the swirling depths of the maelstrom of the warp, with the Astronomicon as his only soldity. As a Navigator, he was the only one able to look out into the warp - the others in his chamber, his serfs who helped take care of him by bringing him food and drink or help him the other necessities of living, were all blind. It was a necessity, otherwise they would lose their minds if they ever looked out into the purified ocean of emotion and thought.
He hadn't seen any of his serfs for around an hour now, and he guessed that they would come back soon. They were supposed to be with him at all times, but he didn't mind - he liked being alone, doing the job he had been given since his birth.
At that point, his third eye spotted something in the midst of the madness; a somewhat stiller part of the warp, which was a rather solid area of colour. Curiosity drove him to peer at it, trying to focus on it, and it was then he realized that it was getting larger. At first, it was merely the size of his nail on his little finger - now, half a minute after spotting it, it was the size of his thumb print. Trying to ignore it, he continued to guide the ship through the warp, trying to forget the strange thing in the warp - he did for ten minutes.
When he remembered, he gave the anomaly a quick glance, and almost leaped out of his seat. in the space of ten minutes, the block of colour had grown to the size of a small ship, and he realized that it was coming alongside the Vox Luna. With a curse, he pressed his finger into the keypad on the arm of his navigation throne, and said to the other person on the other end of the comms unit, "Get me the Captain."
Yret and Dres were nervous. That was not a commonality - most of the time they tinkered and built machinery with ease and gusto, but the object they had been tasked with looking over while it was cut open made them feel butterflies in their modified half-metal stomachs. The cut was reaching almost halfway down the sides of the sphere, and the radiation that they had found had been increasing since, though they did not feel any negative effects from exposure.
That by itself proved that something was wrong.
"Sister."
"Yes?"
"What happens if there is something in there that is a threat? What exactly would we do?"
Yret thought for a moment. If indeed there was something inside the object that was a danger to the ship and its crew, what could they do? They could stop now and toss the thing out into the void, leaving it in the endless expanses of the space between systems, but they could be quite literally throwing away an opportunity of a lifetime, even their own greatly extended lifetimes. But the the chance, however slim, that the object could be holding something dangerous and even life threatening, was present. Then she remembered the opportunities afforded to them from Quintus's involvement during the time they were branded hereteks, and decided.
"If there is something present in the object that is dangerous, then the servitors may be able to hold it off for a few seconds. I wouldn't bet for much longer than that though - if someone trapped something in an almost indestructible prison, then whatever was caught must be inherently terrible indeed. The time afforded to us by the servitors will be used by us to open the air locks and vent this room, ejecting ourselves and the threat from the ship."
Dres's seven eyes looked at her for a moment, and then he smiled. "Sacrifice our lives for the one who saved them. If I was more of a philosopher there would be a moral in there somewhere. Well, we may as well try to get as much of our project as done as possible before we crack that thing open." And with that, he turned and walked off to the machine they had been working on, the mass of metal and cables looking as incomplete as ever.
Yret smiled to herself while her brother worked. He had thought of the same plan as she had - maybe twins really are connected in mind. She followed her brother to the machine, servo- arms unfolding and tools warming up as she went to work in the Omnissiah's name.
"Calm down Navigator Rillean, and tell me what you see," Stronti said, some of the serfs watching and stopping their work before he glared at them, setting them back on their pace.
"There is an area of stillness approaching the ship. I'm not sure what it is, I haven"t been in service for many years and am still young, but my best guess is, well..."
"Spit it out lad, come on!" Urged Stronti. He hadn't become the Captain of an Inquisitor's ship from ignoring potential threats.
"A ship, sir," stammered the nervous Navigator. "I believe I see a ship approaching the Vox Luna in warp space."
Stronti was quiet for a second, then let out a breath, and then he entered his mindset when he was preparing for comabat.
"All right! Battle stations, Battle stations!" he roared, setting the serfs running around at an even faster pace, while servitors currently offline suddenly started to rapidly tap on the keys in front of the, with metal tines, powering up the shields and causing alarms all over the vessel to suddenly start blaring, waking up the crewmen and gangs who lived and worked in the belly of the ship, who then ran around to their stations all over the ship, whether it be manning the cannons or getting ready to keep the ship running in case of damage.
"Prepare to exit warp space! I don't know who or what is following us, but they haven't contacted us and they are approaching. I don't know if they're fools or are insane, but their is no way I'm letting this ship be boarded when it is in the actual stuff of nightmares!"
Serfs were yelling at each other while they ran around, some of them manning the few consoles without servitors while others talked rapidly into vox-units to other crewmen all over the ship. Almost growling in his seat, Stronti pushed a rune on the arm of his throne.
"Inquisitor?" he said into the vox built into his seat with a deep growl behind his voice.
"Yes, captain? Also, why can I hear alarms?" came the reply, with a note of confusion as to the tone of his subordinate.
"Sorry for the tone, but I believe we may be coming under attack soon," he said, and immediately the tone of Quintus changed.
"I was wondering why they were blaring. Any idea as to who the opposition is or their strength?"
"No, m'lord," replied Stronti. "All we know is that they are nearing us in warp space."
"What! Are they insane? Who the hell would risk complete exposure to the warp?"
"No idea, but that's what they are doing. I'm bringing us out of the warp in order to keep us alive should they get through the hull."
"Good idea captain. As soon as we are out of the warp, prepare the warp drives. I want to get back in so we can try to avoid them and put a gap between us."
"Yes, m'lord. I would suggest to prepare for defending the ship though."
"Naturally, captain. I'll see you on the bridge soon."
"Yes, m'lord."
The transmission cut off, and Stronti was left biting his knuckle while the serfs scrambled around the bridge. He then yelled for a drink, and waited for the Inquisitor to arrive.
"WHY THE FUCK IS SHIT NOT HAPPENING!" whispered the Angry Marine, casually venting his frustration on another marine by smacking him in the face with his power bat. The other marine then yelled and they were suddenly in an all-out brawl with one another, power feet kicking between legs, slaps going across faceplates, the usual.
"HOLD UP FUCKSHITS I'VE GOT THIS, JUST CHILL THE FUCK OUT YOU CUNTDICKS!" responded the Techmarine piloting the Angry Marine battle barge, the FUCKNUTTER. Somewhere ahead of them was the Inquisitorial vessel, powering ahead in the warp while the battle barge slowly caught up. Then, they would drag it out of the warp and board it, along with their allies also on board their ship. Some of them were actually in the bridge of the FUCKNUTTER with the angry marines, their armour painted in the dull grey metal of ship hulls to camouflage them. They didn't necessarily get along with the Angry Marines (by which one group hated working with the other, while the other completely hates the original group to the core) but they worked together for this very important mission.
"Ah, Temperus, good to see you well. How goes the mission?" said Zakis Randi, Chapter Master of the Knights Inductor. He wore his artificer armour in the same camouflage as his men, and he carried his pair of master crafted shock-mauls over his shoulders and on his back. On his thigh was his bolter, loaded with special non-lethal flash rounds to disorient the enemy so they can get in reach with their shock-weaponry to capture the enemy forces. He had other equipment on his person, including a cloaking device and scramblers to make it even more difficult for e enemy to locate him and his men.
Contrastingly, Temperus Maximus, Chapter Master of the Angry Marines, wore his distinctive yellow and red Artificer Terminator armour, with a chai fist on each arm, and an assault cannon on each individual chainfist, making him more of a fortress than some Terminator squads. He had his distinctive adamantium cigar clenched in his teeth, still smoking even after days of smoking without stopping. Everyone on the ship knew however, that the most dangerous part of the Chapter Master wasn't his equipment, oh no.
It was the untold amounts of sheer, pure rage which he could barely control on a good day.
"THE PLANS TAKING FUCKING FOREVER YOU WHIMSY SHITBAG," said the Chapter Master, turning to the view screen which had the positions of the two vessels - the stylised 'I' of the Inquisition marking out the ship they were pursuing, while an angry face marked out their current position.
Zakis sighed - working with the Angry Marines, brother chapter or not, was tiring in the extreme, and even his great patience and diplomatic skills weeper being out to their limit.
"I see we are catching up to our quarry," he said, trying to start some kind of conversation with the hulking pot of fury next to him.
"I CAN SEE THAT DIPSHIT," he responded, without even glancing at the man he was working with.
Zakis sighed again - it was going to be another long day.
"TECHFAG, WHATS UP WITH THE SHIT - WHEN DO WE PULL THESE DICKS OUT OF THIS SHITSTORM TO WHERE WE CAN SMACK THE FUCKS UPSIDE THEIR FUCKING HEADS?"
"CHILL FUCKTARD - IT TAKES TIME TO SORT OUT SCIENCE SHIT, SO QUIT YOUR BITCHING AND LET ME WORK," came the reply from the tech marine, who was currently waist deep in a console, swearing profusely and slapping something fleshy off the sides of the workings of the machine.
"WAIT - WHAT THE FUCK IS THAT?" said the techmarine, looking at the view screen. The stylised 'I' was gone.
"WHERE THE FUCK DID THEY GO?"
The Vox Luna played a game of cat and mouse with their pursuers, who they still did not know the identity of, in order to try and reach Imperial forces in time and to buy more time for the techpriests working on the object they found. Every time the Angry Marines ship caught up to them in warp space, they slipped out of the Immaterium in the endless expanses of the darkness around the thousands of systems that littered the Galaxy, setting up a new heading and re-entering the warp just when the Angry Marines entered realspace, a process which they found extremely frustrating and caused them to bash up their battle barge a fair bit, an occurrence which abruptly ended when their Techmarines demanded that the pissed off soldiers 'QUIT THEIR SHIT', and leave the ship alone.
The presence of the Knights Inductor however, meant that plans were quickly produced and put into effect, which would come into play very shortly and should, eloquently put by an Angry Marine during the debriefing, allow them to 'CATCH THE FUCKS'.
The plasma-cutters were almost completely through the metallic surface of the object, a prospect which frightened and excited Dres and Yret. It excited them as they would finally be able to see what was inside the thing that had burst into realspace, but it frightened them as their imaginations had time to come up with various possible scenarios. There was only a few millimetres of metal let for the plasma-cutters to go through, yet the metal still refused to budge.
It had taken maybe three weeks for them to reach that point, and they were tired and so very desperate and nervous to see what lay inside the metal sphere.
Suddenly, with a creak and then a clatter, the four quarters of the sphere fell off the object, falling to the deck floor. They stood stock still, and then slowly the truth dawned on them like an ugly snake rearing its head and lashing out.
The object had several layers of the tough metal surrounding it.
"Well, at least the radiation has gone," said Dres, who had looked over at the sensor. The readout had indeed stopped going crazy, and it had died down to the same content green as the rest of the panels readouts.
"I wonder why," Yret said, then wandered over to the metal quarters on the floor. She noticed a pattern on the inner side of the surface - a crazy connection of tiny crystalline wires and bits of metal, each one connected to another. She noticed how they were sheared through entirely by the plasma-cutters, and that they were tiny orbs of glass nestled amongst the wiring, and she had an idea. She got one of the sections of metal and brought it to a worktable. She then connected several power cables to some of the crystal wires, and passed a current through them. The glass orbs lit up, and the sensor started spiking again, red figures appearing again.
Her hunch was right - the workings on the inner side of the objects surface produced some sort of fake radiation, a kind of deterrent to stop people from cutting into the object. Whoever made the object wanted it to contain whatever it held for as long as possible.
With a grin, she looked over to her brother, who was holding a section of metal in his hands .
"Dres!" she yelled, and at his name her brother turned to her. "Whatever is inside was meant to remain there by whoever made the object. Let's kick this up a notch, shall we?"
Her brother returned the grin, and said "All right. But we need something new, don't we?"
They then spent the next several hours digging around their workshop, putting together some kind of cutting decide with more oomph than the plasma-cutters, who had finally overheated from their three week long session of use. In the hurried hours of work, they created a new tool for cutting open extremely tough materials - like the object. What they made was essentially, a continuous melta gun. It generated a continuous blast of superheated air which covered an area of roughly a centimetre. While it was cooler than an ordinary meltagun, the constant heat meant that it was perfect for burning through substances. It was mounted on a mechanical arm, and the power supply came directly from the ship's plasma generators. It was a bit mish-mash, but it worked.
When they finished, they looked over the object. It was around two metres in diameter, and they had set it up in a kind of harness that left it hanging off the floor, so the melta tool could easily cut open a small circular section from one end of the object. There were probably several more layers of the dense material, and so it would be best if they could get the new tool working as soon as possible. With their plan laid out, they decided to create a powerful coolant system for the tool to keep it working for as long as possible, and when they had done that, they retired to their beds where they slept for around 18 hours - when they woke the started working while they ate, determines too open up whatever the object was.
The ship exited the warp for the fourteenth time, the stuff of the warp dissipating from the ship as reality flowed across the hull. They were in some sort of frontier system - the few planets were orbiting a red giant, the nearest planets burned clean of life. It appeared that there was a mining world near the edge of the system, a grey-green dwarf planet with two moons.
"Report," said Stronti, looking over the serfs and servitors on the bridge of the ship.
"Warp drives are overheating - it will take several hours for them to be ready for warp space," said one serf, reading off of a readout from a cogitator.
"The Gellar field generators are also overheated, and are in need of repairs - apparently the metal has begun to melt and some parts are bent out of shape," said another.
"Armaments are ready for combat - void shields are up and the cannon batteries are loaded and ready to be fired. Crewmen are in their battle stations and ready to defend the Vox Luna from boarding parties.
"Right, then get the warp drives and Gellar field generators up and running again - I want to keep moving towards our destination, even if we travel all across the bloody Imperium!"
Just then, several thousand miles away from the craft, another ship breached realspace from the warp - a yellow and red battle barge, who had been following the Inquisitor and his retinue for some time now. Several minutes after entering realspace, the battle barge lowed towards the Vox Luna, Thunderhawks and Boarding Torpedoes being loaded up to board the smaller craft - among them were two Chapter Masters and veterans from two old Chapters, a kind of force rarely ever seen, and one that is a very dangerous threat to any opposition, who in this case was an Inquisitor and his ship, alone in some empty system with only a small mining colony to fall back to, in the case they even survived the initial assault.
"Inquisitor! Quintus, pick up damn it!" said Stronti through the Vox, abandoning formalities in the face of immediate and extreme danger.
"Stronti!" replied Quintus. "What the hell is going on?"
"The enemy caught up with us. They are already approaching the ship, and the long-range scopes can see fighter bays open and ready to launch boarding craft."
"Damn it! Any idea who they are, captain?"
"From the looks of it, Astartes."
"What?"
"Space Marines, Inquisitor. We are being attacked by Space Marines, and not the Traitor kind either."
"That just doesn't make sense." Quintus paused for a moment. "They aren't the Blood Ravens, are they?"
"No, it seems to be an Angry Marine battle barge, Lord."
"Oh. I'd expect the Blood Ravens might attack to get the object we found, the magpies, but I wouldn't expect Angry Marines to be interested in something like that. Anyway, prepare for an extremely violent boarding action, and tell the Infirmary to prepare for wounded. If it's the Angry Marines, a lot of people will get hurt."
"Yes, sir," said Stronti, before he cut the transmission. Quintus left his quarters, bringing his weaponry with him. He was joined by Jannos and Veryn outside his room, both of them with their own equipment.
"Where we going, boss?" asked Veryn, who was to Quintus's right, not using proper formalities as usual, but Quintus had grown used to it, and to be honest, he liked having someone who was different from the general rabble of straight shirted and seemingly emotionless people who were very where in the upper levels of command or politics.
"To the bridge," Quintus responded, checking that his laspistol had a full charge, and then making sure that his sword was working as it should. "Are your men ready, Veryn?"
"Guns loaded and in position, boss," he replied, hefting his modified hot-shot lasgun over one shoulder, his helmet on his belt. Quintus noticed that he was wearing a large power pack on his back - Veryn usually carried extra las charges to make up for the increased energy consumoption of his weapon, but in cases where firepower was more important than mobility, he carried the power pack, and Quintus agreed that this was definitely a situation where firepower was more welcome.
"Jannos, how are your men doing?" asked Quintus, looking towards Jannos walking to his left. She had her high peaked cap and chainsword on, but she was wearing body armour rather than the usual plain uniform she wore.
"Ready to repel boarders, my lord," she responded, putting an emphasis on the 'my lord'. It was directed towards Veryn, who she thought would appear more professional if he used proper titles, but Quintus knew they were good friends, and that it was more of a joke between them than actual criticism.
"Good. Let's get to the bridge, and wait for the attack."
The bridge was quieter than usual, with the serfs only talking to one another rather than yelling and screaming to perform the tasks of running the ship. The air was full of tension, waiting for the enemy ship to launch some kind of offensive at them, waiting for an excuse to release the bunched up stress of running from the same enemies for several weeks in good, open combat. That was when the enemy ship let fly with a salvo of six Boarding Torpedoes and three Thunderhawk gunships.
"Open fire! Keep them off our hull!" roared Stronti, with the serfs bursting into action, speaking rapidly into vox units to others over the ship, relaying orders to the gun crews that were already aiming at the incoming craft.
The Thunderhawks were dangerous in that they could take out the small guns across the hull if they got past the Void shield, or they could land troops directly on the deck and crack the hull open, exposing areas of the vessel to the hard void. The Boarding Torpedoes, however, could burrow several decks into the ship, and disgorge a squad of Marines directly into the inner workings of the Vox Luna, an event which would both endanger the crew and the ship at once.
The small guns opened fire, sending streams of munitions into empty space at the incoming craft. Most of it missed, but the few rounds that did connect merely spattered of the heavy armour of the spacecraft. The Boarding Torpedoes were much faster than the Thunderhawks, silently screaming towards the ship.
"Brace for impact!" a serf yelled, and a split second later six impacts rocked the ship, followed by a deep groan as the Torpedoes plowed through the ship.
The Vox Luna, was now boarded by a force of Space Marines.
"THOSE FUCKWIT FAGTARDS!" yelled the Angry Marine sergeant looking through a porthole at the drop pods leaving the battle barge. "ILL RIP THEM A NEW ONE AND FUCK IT MYSELF, THOSE SHITBAG CUMJUNKIES!"
Those assholish Knights had done one of the many things to piss them off, but they had done one of the things which the angry Marines considered taboo - among these things was messing around with their tacos, cockblocking a playing battle brother, or similar things which could invoke the considerable wrath of a group of Angry Marines.
The Knights had deliberately sabotaged the Angry Marine Boarding Torpedoes and Thunderhawks, and they took the only functioning ones for themselves, stranding the Angry Marines on their battle barge while they got to do the boarding action. They had purposefully stopped the Angry Marines from assaulting their enemy, and we're doing it by themselves.
Needless to say, the Angry Marines were thoroughly pissed off at the Knights. But they knew the role they had to play, so they refrained from ramming the battle barge into the enemy ship. Instead, they prepared to give the Knights a light smacking upon their return to the FUCKNUTTER. A smacking that would leave the Knights blue and bloody, with several gaping orifices over their body, but the Angry Marines were planning to hold back. It was their duty to complete their mission, and they would. But those fucktards definitely needed a smacking of some sorts - it was the price for denying the Angries a good scrap.
Zakis Randi got a chill down his spine that his plan would backfire horribly once it was completed - when he thought about it, he knew it was going to backfire, and when it did, it would probably involve the Angries beating the Knights and doing other (extremely bloody) things to them. He sighed, and tapped the rune by the portal of the Boarding Torpedo. The heavy door opened up, revealing the metal corridor the Torpedo stopped at. He dropped down onto the floor, his cloaking gear melding his form with the dark metal. He looked down both ends of the hallway as his honour guard dropped down beside him. They were all armed with shock-weaponry, and their bolters were loaded with the same kind of flash ammunition as their chapter master.
"Where too," asked one of them, his camo cloak billowing slightly in the faint wind flowing down the hallway.
"Bridge," he replied. "That's where the target probably is."
"Yes, lord," responded the Knight, he then looked down onto a data slate in his hand. "Down that way, lord," he said, gesturing towards one of the ends of the hallway they were in.
"Right - move out," Zakis said, and he started towards the junction ahead, his honour guard following.
They reached the junction, and immediately fell under hot-shot lasgun fire, red streaks flying through the air and sizzling against the armour of the Knights, burning off the camouflage and putting holes in their camo cloaks.
"Open fire!" Zakis voxed to his honour guard. "Confuse the foe! Blind them! Light up the night!" He roared, and as one they let fly with salvoes of the flash bolts, each one detonating in the air around the troopers, setting them yelling and firing everywhere. When they were suitably disoriented, Zakis mag-locked his bolter to his thigh, and charged, disconnecting his shock mauls. When he reached them, he began gently tapping and jabbing the troopers, sending them to the ground with nerve jerking jolts of electricity. When the troopers were completely subdued, arms tied behinds their backs to make sure they won't come after them when they woke up, they continued on their way.
They met several more groups of troopers, and they dealt with them in the same way, sudueing and handicapping them. Eventually, they reached a particularly dense force of troopers, behind makeshift barricades, pumping out fusillades of the hot red streaks towards them as they turned a corner. The troopers had set up in a wider hallway, with three other corridors entering into it. One of the halls had another force of Knights, pinned down as they took cover behind the bend in the hallway, occasionally sending out bursts of blinding flashes, but not enough to subdue the troopers there.
"Brothers, prepare for an assault," Zakis voxed to both his honour guard and the pinned Space Marines. He unhooked an object from his belt - a small canister with a pin on one end. It was a thing the Techmarines had been developing for some time - a new kind of grenade. Well, Zakis thought as he pulled the pin and tossed it into the midst of the troopers, here seems like a good place to test it.
What happened could have been described as magnificent.
The grenade had landed behind the second of the three rows of barricades, maybe a bit off to the left of where he would have wanted it. Nothing happened for a few seconds, but then the timer ran out and the grenade detonated. The canister blew up, sending small orbs across the barricades as well as producing a thick cloud of smoke. Then the orbs detonated, and released bright flashes and incredibly loud cracks and snaps across the defence opposing the Knights force. The resuit was that anyone caught in the blast radius of the grenade was faced with smoke so thick they couldn't see their hands in front of their face, bright flashes bursting out of the smoke abruptly and without warning, and the loud noises absolutely shredding their sense of balance. In addition to all that, the smoke also had a mix of various gases - among them was a numbing agent, a powerful knock-out gas, and a gas that temporarily blinds anyone who comes into contact with it. The effect was almost immediate - the fire smacking against the metal walls rapidly stopped, and the sounds of bodies hitting the floor resounded around the hallways and corridors.
"Well, that was effective," said a Knight through the Vox.
"Give my regards to the Techmarines," replied Zakis, who then stepped out from the corridor and walked towards the barricades. The troopers were lying everywhere, unconscious and harmless. The Knights then tied the troopers up, and then they went in front of the heavy blast doors behind the barricades.
"The bridge is behind this door?" Zakis asked to the Knight with the data slate.
"Yes, lord," responded the Space Marine.
"Let us breach, then" Zakis said, and the Space Marines attached a pair of melta bombs onto the door. They took cover behind some of the barricades, and a few seconds later a large whoosh-krump resounded around the room, and the blast doors and has been turned to rapidly calling slag, the thick metal sagging and bending out of shape.
"Light up the night!" roared Zakis, and the battle cry was taken up by his soldiers as they charged through the blisteringly hot portal produced by the melta bombs, bolters sending cracking bolts of light and shock weaponry fizzing in the air as they charged towards the soldiers arrayed before them on the deck of the bridge.
"Fire!"yelled Veryn, a pointless order as his men were already letting fly with their hot-shot lasguns, sending scorching lasers towards the enemy charging through the blast door breach.
The blast doors had melted away a few seconds earlier, and the enemy Space Marines had poured out of the breach just after, roaring battle cries. They fired strange rounds which went off in the midst of the soldiers in great bright flashes and cracks, sending the troopers reeling and hitting the floor as the world swirled around them. Quintus, Veryn, Jannos and Stronti were currently behing the barricade around Stronti's command seat, watching the first few rows of soldiers disappear amidst the flashes of light. They were firing their own weapons at the intruders, all except for Jannos, who waited patiently with her chainsword, named by her as His Teeth.
Quintus fired off the entire cartridge in his modified pistol, sending pinpoint lasers towards the enemy charging at them. The lasers pierced their armour and went deep into them, but they kept on charging, firing off salvoes of their blinding ammunition.
"Boss, we can't win this!" Veryn said, sending off a few more blasts towards the foe.
"I know that," Quintus responded, slamming home a new cartridge. Veryn looked at him, and then grinned. "Right! Come on lads, lets give these rat-bastards a show!" With that, his men cheered, and then roughly half of the remaining troopers holstered their guns on their backs and drew long, thin and very sharp knives, and some also carried laspistols. Those men then counter charged, screaming obscenities at the foe in maybe their final act of defiance.
"Jannos," Quintus barked, getting the attention of the woman with her chainblade. "Prepare for close quarters. And Good Luck."
"You too, Inquisitor." She responded with a smile, and then she revved His Teeth so that it growled in anticipation of the combat to be had. Quintus then unsheathed his sword, and called up on his powers, feeling the faint whispers of the Warp in his mind. He ignored them, and using the witch-powers he had been cursed with, he summoned up power and sent it through his blade. Crackling lightning arced across its surface, and the scrollwork on the blade faintly glowed as the warp energy coursed through it.
Quintus was a Psyker, an Epsilon level. He wasn't the strongest Psyker, not by half, but he had significant control over his powers, which had been drilled into him by the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, and then by his superiors and peers in the Inquisition. His powers were quite strange in that they were not the most subtle, but he also lacked the sheer raw power that other unsubtle Psykers usually possessed. No, his powers were quite strange in that rather than confuse the foe or tear them apart, he could create things to fight with.
For example, at that moment he used his powers to summon up a pool of black ichor, which fell to the floor and pooled in front of him. Then, it began to writhe and twist, until finally a dozen or so ropy tentacles burst from the pool towards those charging at them, lancing forward while twisting around the troopers in front and around Quintus, whose eyes were blazing with Psychic fire. The tentacles slammed into the colossal forms charging at them, knocking them to their feet. The tentacles coiled around the bodies and dragged them about the place, using them as wrecking balls against their own.
More tentacles were bursting from the fluid, when the Space Marines were among them, jabbing and lashing out with fizzing weaponry which sent troopers to the ground in short spasms. The tentacles retracted and started doing a wispy but savage dance, smacking and slashing at the Astartes around Quintus. Out of the corner of his eye he saw Jannos go down, her chainsword cutting out as her fingers fell away from the trigger. Fury filling him, he summoned up more power, creating more tentacles to lash out at the intruders on his ship, while he simultaneously cut and parried with his force sword, and firing point blank with his modified laspistol. He would go down fighting if it was the last thing he did.
Then he noticed something which confused him. The Space Marines he could see were not Angry Marines - they wore camouflage instead of the bold yellow and red, a fact which made him reach the conclusion that these were Knights Inductor, a fact which gave him one, blaring question - why had they not given negotiations and had instead immediately attacked at their first chance, and why the hell were they using an Angry Marine battle-barge.
However, the questions and thoughts racign around in his mind caused him to lose focus, and suddenly an extreme shock went racking through his body from his lower back. Grimacing, Quintus fell onto all fours, dropping his weaponry around him while his nerves fired spasmodically with the electric charge that raced through him. Looking up, he saw a figure in obviously well-made power armour, the quality of its craft obvious despite the camouflaged paint. The figure carried two shock-mauls, and was looking down at him, a helmet with dark eye lenses staring at him directly in the eyes. Quintus felt his powers retreating as he lost consciousness, and he fought on, trying to carve a foothold against the blackness trying to consume him, trying to stay awake.
He would have if the figure hadn't gently tapped him with a shock-maul, sending a fresh wave of electricity through Quintus, who clenched his teeth and then fell to the floor, unconscious like the rest of the crew aboard the Vox Luna, now completely at the mercy of those who had been seeking them for several weeks for some unknown purpose.
Chapter 4[edit | edit source]
Quintus's eyes snapped open and he jumped off the bed, landing on the balls of his feet in a stance that would allow him to pounce like a large feline predator. When he landed he took in his surroundings, and soon fell flat onto his rear. He was in a cell in some ship, probably the battle barge. There was a bed, and the heavy cell door, and that was it. His equipment was gone and he was dressed in plain pale fatigues, and he could feel his vulnerability.
Standing up straight, Quintus walked over to the door. It was more of an airlock than a door by the looks of it, and upon closer inspection there was a hatch near the bottom that could be opened to allow someone to slide something under the door, and another hatch was at eye level. After looking over the cell door, he went back to his bed and sat down on it, contemplating. When he did so, he flexed his fingers, noting how some of his nerves still tingled from the shocks he received by the Knights who had boarded his ship. He then reached out with his mind, and felt an oppressive weight that stopped him from summoning his powers.
Just as he thought about this, the hatch near the bottom of the door opened and a tray was slid into the door, and before he could say anything the hatch snapped shut. Letting out an annoyed breath, he got up and picked the tray up off the ground. On it, there was a bowl of some gruel, a spoon, a small flask of water, and a book. Noting his growling stomach, he sat down and ate the gruel, which he found tasteless but highly rejuvenating, and he quenched his thirst with the flask of water.
When his stomach was settled, he picked up the book and looked over the cover. It was a leather bound book in good condition, and on its front there was a symbol worked into the leather using a very pale blue, smooth material, which after tapping it and hearing a very faint tink, Quintus realised was crystal. Curious, he looked at the edges of the books pages, and found that they were made of some king of crystal as well, though it was a more darker blue crystal than the type found on its cover.
Bracing himself, he opened the book onto its first page and looked over the crystalline letters wrought into some unknown language. At that point he fell the oppressive weight on his mind lessen, and he took that as a way of telling him to channel his mind into the book, when he promptly did. Faintly, the letters and symbols began to glow, and before his eyes the crystal lettering started to move across the page, rings of words and lines spinning while loose lines etched into the crystal started to form shapes and pictures. Opening the next page, the same thing was happening, with new symbols and words appearing. The page after that, and the page after that, all had the swirling language on them.
Eventually, once the lettering was glowing at its brightest, the symbols casting themselves onto Quintus's face in eerie light, the pages began to turn by themselves, until the book was completely open, it's unbelievably thin pages leaving equal space between one another, as if to give each page their own personal space. Then, the pages began to wave and move as one, their symbols joining together before forming complex patterns and pieces of texts in the air around Quintus. He could feel the complexity of the object in his hands as it worked its magic with the energy he supplied it with, and at that point the book lifted off his hands, floating a few centimetres away from them, and chains of words spilled out and coiled themselves around the book, reaching out into the open air and slowly flowing through it before returning to the depths of the book. The chains of words coiled out and wound themselves around Quitus's arms, and loose words and letters formed and floated around Quintus like snowflakes or ash in the air.
Quintus stared deep into the glowing void that was a book, and saw so much. There were stars and planets held in the pages while tiny creatures from dozens of forgotten or lost worlds crawled from the words, appearing from one in a tiny burst of light and the. Disappearing into another. So much knowledge and history in one tome, and it was open to Quitnus before him.
Then the pages began to open up more until they rested in equal numbers on each side, and he saw words forming before him - not alien letters, but honest to the emperor low gothic letters.
They read Quintus, isn't it?
It took a moment for Quintus to realise he was being asked a question by a book, and when he did, he decided to play along. "Yes," he responded, and the reply formed before him. Good, I've wanted to speak to you. Tell me, do you still believe in the glory of the Imperium?
"Of course," replied Quintus, though he knew he was lying. The book knew too. Don't lie to me. I'm a book that can have a conversation - you didn't think I'd not be able to read minds, did you? Anyway, I know you've lost faith in His Imperium.
The book so openly stating the fact that Quintus and lost his faith in the Imperium was bittersweet - it made him feel terrible to believe what he did, but it felt good for it to be out in the open, to have been said.
The truth is, continued the book He has too.
"What?" said Quintus, questioning and contemplating the books statement just then.
"Nothing," replied the book, and he felt as if it's otherworldly gaze was turned away from him, avoiding his attention. "Nothing important. Nada. Zilch. Useless information that is not important in any way whatsoever. Seriously, it's nothing important at all. Don't believe me? Well, then you Can fuck off." With that, the book snapped shut, and the eerie light from it ended, though Quintus could feel a sentience inside that seemed to be raging quietly inside, flipping over mind-constructed tables and smashing non-existent pottery.
That was when the heavy door to his was opened, and he looked to see two Space Marines: a Knight, and an Angry Marine.
"Inquisitor Quintus, please follow-" said the Knight before he was interrupted by the Angry Marine. "YOU, FAGGOT, FOLLOW US YOU CUM-DRIBBLING DICKFUCK."