A/N Standard Disclaimer: Warhammer 40,000 is the property of Games Workshop. No money is being made from this publication. Feel free to draw from the original content if you feel inclined.
Threads of Destiny
"For ten thousand and one years the Emperor of Mankind has sat immobile in his golden throne and witnessed silently the slow inevitable fall of man. Ten thousand years of suffering at the hands of its enemies, the Imperium has lasted only as long as it had on the principles of honor, sacrifice and a damn stubborn refusal to quit. Whole world's populations have died to stem the tide, placed upon the altar of war in supplication to the callous gods. But this does not please them. No matter how great the sacrifice they always demand more! More blood, more souls, more time spent in pursuit of a peace that will not come! The greatest of men have tried! Assisted with the most clever of machines and the most powerful of magic's they have tried. Tried and failed! It's beyond the scope of the common man to grasp the power needed to affect such a radical change, such a change as peace. I myself have spent untold decades contemplating the means of such an end. So long and we have lost so much…"
The man's monologue died off and the broker let out a relieved sigh. Ever since the strange man had first entered his shop he had been talking almost non-stop. First it was all concerning the object, asking about its discovery and the history of the piece; these things the curator understood. After all it was why they were here in an abandoned warehouse. . But then the man had started to wax philosophical, stroking the tablets designs and speaking out as if to some invisible audience; it was then that the collector had first come to suspect the current state of the man's mind. This the broker could not understand, truly there was nothing awe inspiring about the piece, at least not in the common sense.
The item itself was a small nondescript stone set carving, seemingly a series of random lines with a series of concentric rings circling it, made up of some undecipherable gibberish language. Truthfully it held little aesthetic value, possessing of almost no color and few ornamental features. Furthermore it had a crack running down one side, as if it had been a part of a larger piece at some point. However it was remarkably old, being the product of some xenos culture or another that had predated the current millennium by at least couple hundred thousand years time. At least that was the opinion of the appraisers that he had visited
He had first been contacted through the usual channels by the customer a few days ago, the interest not in browsing the collector's considerable collection but on acquiring a certain piece. Not actually owning the item in question, but once having the description related to him had found it had sounded vaguely familiar and sure enough as he had checked with his sources he had quickly located it. It had been surprisingly easy to come by, just a little pressure in the right place.
'Blackmail, works every time.' He mentally thought with a smirk.
Of course he had not told the man sitting in front of him any of this, him being shrewd enough of a business man to realize an opportunity to make some extra cash when he saw one. Taking in the man's almost crazed and readily apparent passion for acquiring the thing; he had nearly quadrupled his original purchase price when he relayed it over the com-line. The man had agreed and he had instructed him to meet him at the present location so the exchange could take place.
"So it is to your liking then?" he asked, a greasy smile quickly replacing the annoyed look on his face.
The man spoke, eyes never leaving the object. "Yes, it is very much to my liking." Though now he quickly held up a single silk gloved finger. "Though I think the price asked is to be a little steep for something this small and plain looking."
The merchants smile held but inwardly he cursed the man a blue streak. 'Why was it always the crazy ones who caught on to things left unsaid?' "True, but it is a rare piece and…"
The other man cut him off with a fixed stare, only now meeting his gaze.
"Of course it is rare, being a piece of restricted xenos craft under the Imperium Articles of Law. True its price should go up, being as it technically should have been turned into the Administratum for safe keeping and truly the risk of just holding it merits an increase payment."
The merchant did not like where this was heading and his voice rose in anger as he regarded the man in front of him with growing disdain. "Where do you get off preaching to me about procedure? You're the one who expressed interest about this piece in the first place. You knew what we were doing here was illegal! Now I suggest you pay what we agreed on or else." He reached into his pocket and removed a small switch operated short range transmitter.
The man looked at the device and raised one of his eyebrows. "Or else what?" he asked innocently.
"You think I'm frakking new at this?" he nearly quivered with rage. "Or else I press this little switch and my associates enter through that door and beat the money out of you!" He gave the man a quick once over with his eyes and came back unconcerned. He was of average height and build, possessing of no apparent weapons and besides dressing like some jumped up spire dweller, was typical in every other way. 'Quite the opposite from the men that are waiting outside.' He thought cheerfully.
"Well we can't have that now, but really I have no intention of paying you anything for something that technically is mine anyways." He reached underneath his overcoat and the merchant relaxed as instead of the expected weapon he removed a small leather wallet. However the merchant found the end result to be more terrifying than any kind of killing device he could have produced.
"By the power of the Holy Inquisition, of the Ordos Xenos, I command you to release this contraband into my property and face the consequences of your actions under the full prosecution of Inquisitorial Law." The man stated calmly, flipping open the wallet to reveal the golden rosette of the Holy Inquisition.
The merchant panicked and resisted the urge to flee, void his bowels or do both. The Inquisition was something that was whispered in dark corners, equated to the level of baby snatchers and boogey men by the average Imperial citizen. They were the bane of criminals everywhere, though usually they centered their attentions on things that they deemed important enough to warrant their attention, leaving the more mundane of crimes to the Arbites. However that one of that esteemed order had seen fit to grace him with his attention…
Suddenly as quickly as it came the fear passed and his slack jawed look turned into a predatory smile. Inquisition or not, he was only one man and was soon to be out numbered five to one, with no weapons of any kind to help even the odds. Feeling the winds begin to change in his favor the broker's smile held and he reached under his tunic to pull out a concealed las-pistol. As an afterthought he flicked the beacon's switch (just in case), pointing the gun at the man's chest in case he made any sudden moves.
"Why aren't you confident? You come in here by yourself and expect me just to bow scrape and accept your demands? Ha!" he spat a thick wad of phlegm at the man's feet. "That's what I think of your "Holy Inquisition"!"
The man didn't react to his taunting in the slightest; indeed the only thing he did to show he had even heard him was to reach to his throat to stifle a cough.
The merchant laughed out loud at the Imperial servant's now obvious nervousness and found himself heartened by it. Out of the shadows he could now see the approach of his hired muscle, their hands resting lightly on heavy truncheons and other nasty instruments.
Feeling utterly confident now in light of his expected reinforcements, he placed the barrel of the pistol underneath the other mans chin and forced him to stand up on his tip-toes. Rising up on the balls of his feet he whispered into the man's ear.
"I know some people who'll pay a huge amount for the hide of an Inquisitor, even if it does have a few holes in it. Makes quite a trophy you know."
"Too bad they wouldn't pay the same for a speckled grox scragger." The man replied nonchalantly, as if their positions were reversed and he was the one with the gun.
Hearing his threat rebuked and then himself insulted the merchant stepped forward in anger, belting the man a heavy blow to the stomach and motioning his men to take up their positions.
"Why you son of a bitch! I'll frakking…"
However whatever threat he was going to carry out was forgotten as suddenly the skylight above them exploded and something huge and heavy hurtled to the ground in a rain of glass and screaming metal.
…
The Inquisitor picked himself off from where he had fallen, the annoyance on his face clear as he attempted to wipe away the dust.
"Just because you have a sense for the dramatic doesn't mean you have to make use of it." He muttered as he removed the miniature throat mounted radio and turned to regard the dark gigantically framed figure standing in front of him. It wasn't a pretty sight to behold.
Blood dripped from dull gray mechandritesas they retreated into the confines of the things tattered robe and bits of meat clung to its surface. A look around located the source of the mess and if one looked hard enough he could almost identify the remains of five men amongst the unidentifiable lumps of wet meat.
Ignoring this, the Inquisitor took a hop skip and jumped over the steadily growing puddles until he reached the table where the tablet lay. Picking it up he ran his hands once again over the lines, a look of rapture captured on his face.
Hearing a slight beeping he turned to regard the silent giant.
"Yes this is what we've been looking for. After all these years I finally found the damnable thing, Emperor be Praised." He spared his companion a sidelong look as the cloaked figure let loose another series of soft beeps.
"What do you mean it's smaller than you imagined?"
A pause then more beeps.
"Look after all we've been forced to do to get to this throne damned thing don't you think it's just enough that we have it?"
Beep.
"No?! Come on, everyone knows it's not the size that matters just as long as its use remains the same."
Another pause, another set of beeps.
"What do you mean that's not how it goes? I've always said it that way and what the hell does that have to do with it?!"
Slightly longer pause. Beep.
"Oh I get it… How the hell do you know that anyways? You don't even have a…"
One long indigent sounding beep followed by an ominous clicking noise.
"Oh, well then "big man", let's see it! You heard me!"
An embarrassingly long pause followed by a flurry of beeps.
"What do you mean you left it in the lander? Wait, no, don't answer that. Come on let's get out of here before I up and vomit."
The man walked out of the now silent room and the hunched figure followed, shaking with what could have been many things, but was probably laughter.
...
A/N Just thought I'd add an author's note here. Here we go!
This is my second submission to the wonderful and sometimes downright scary, world of fanfiction!
This time its a WH40k outing and I must say I am proportionally excited! I absolutely love the Warhammer universe, both 40k and Fantasy. My bookshelf is filled with the works of Dan Abnett, William King and Gav Thorpe. And while they may only be pulp novels with no philosophical value to them and while they may not be perfect, they may not be in high class, neither am I, so I like em'.
After all what's not to like? It's like the ideals of classical Romanticism and the setting of science fiction did the nasty and it resulted in the birth of a baby. A big, beautiful, violent, orky baby!
Anyways, erhm, where was I? Oh yes, so I hope you enjoy the story and don't forget to review!
Ciao