Editing The Radical Inquisitor (section)

== Chapter 1 ==

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!"