Chapter IV
Don't Say The "=I=" Word
Disclaimer: See Chapter One
M41.999 Aboard the Emperor-class flagship Deliverance, crew bay, two days after the fall of Helhiem.
'You know, I heard daemons check under their beds for Sergeant Norris at night.'
Smack!
'I heard he has a turkey stuffed with a forty-two pound grox-steak stuffed with a commissar for Candle-mas dinner.'
Bam! 'Next!'
'They say that when Sergeant Norris has a good day, he shows a gentler, more feminine side.
Smack-smack! Crack! 'Next!'
'Sergeant Norris has never had a good day.'
'Yeah, we know, 'cause we've never had one Connor.' Said private Fergus Spence, the squad's 'silent guy.'
'Ah, let him go Spence,' said corporal Darren Rider the plasma gunner, 'he's just low 'cause with Jenkins dead he's got no one to GS with.'
'Same reason we're doin' jokes 'bout the Serge.' Observed private Steve Jackson the melta gunner.
'Yeah? Got any funny ones Jackson?' Asked Sergeant Norris, as he entered the squad's rec room, from the way he was breathing and the sweaty track suit in his left hand he'd just got done sparring.
'I heard your erection can be seen from space, sir,' said Jackson, deadpan, setting off a fit of laughter among his squad mates.
'How about you and I go find an air lock, and I confirm that one for you private?' Asked Norris dangerously.
Jackson shivered.
'I'm good sir.' He said quickly.
'Damn straight, now enough of this grox-shit, orders from the colonel: pack your bags, grab your gear and we're to report to hangar bay E-1,' said Norris, already stowing his tracksuit away in his effects, before grabbing his rucksack and effects bag.
Things suddenly got grim.
If the sergeant was grabbing all his stuff the odds were good they wouldn't be back.
'Um…sir?' Asked private Ivan Farrell hesitantly.
'Speak freely son, what's eating you?' Asked Norris, shouldering his shotgun and checking the rounds on his las.
'Ah, this wouldn't have anything to do with the…exterminatus order would it?' Asked Farrell.
'Son, if you don't say the "I" word then you should get by just fine in life.' Norris said. 'Unfortunately, I can't think of any other reason why we'd be grabbing our effects as well, have any of you been looking at erotica?'
There was a general chorus of 'no' from the squad.
The squad tramped towards the designated hangar with all the enthusiasm of men going to their firing squad, though they were going at march pace.
When they reached the hangar, they were met by an imposing figure wearing a deep black cowl, with carapace armour so deep a shade of green it was almost black.
His knee-high combat boots were black as well, and there was a power-sword in a black scabbard at his side, opposite a silver-trimmed black bolt-pistol, and emblazoned on the fronts of his boots in sterling silver were stylised "I"s along with a smaller pendant one resting on his breast place.
'Shit, it is an "I" word.' Said private Connor.
'He really likes his black as well.' Commented Jackson.
'Gentlemen.' Said the Inquisitor.
His voice was strong and cultured.
'If you don't mind me asking sir, why are we here?' Asked Norris, noting a mean looking gun cutter upgraded with wing-mounted twin-linked plasma cannons with co-axial Lascannons, alongside missile pods.
Evidently the Inquisitor didn't believe in too much fire-power.
Something Norris decided he liked about the shit-scary guy in black.
'I believe you have a Vance Jenkins in your squad?' Asked the Inquisitor.
'We did, but he's KIA by the bombardment, he fell out the back of the Valkyrie before we could haul him in during the extraction, didn't grab on either, just clutched his head and screamed.' Replied Rider.
'For the love of the emperor, please tell me he wasn't a heretic, or a daemon, or something,' said Connor desperately.
The Inquisitor sighed.
'Frak, things just got complicated.' He said, more to himself than the squad assembled before him.
He threw back his cowl, revealing the lined face of a middle-aged man, with silvering buzz-cut hair and a xeno-tech augmetic left eye. A high quality xeno-tech eye.
'Gentlemen, I'm drafting you into my retinue for an Inquisition that will most likely take you to places worse than your darkest nightmares, and see you doing things you never imagined, and fighting alongside allies you've heretofore only known as enemies; the fate of humanity may very well rest in our hands, will you answer the challenge?' Asked the Inquisitor.
There was dead silence, then Jackson stepped forward and swallowed.
'Aye, I will in the Emperor's name.' He said.
'We're all in then, lock and load ladies.' Ordered Norris.
A chorus of 'yes sir,' went up behind the sergeant.
'Very well, if you'll follow me,' said the Inquisitor.
'Before we do who're you?' Asked the Norris.
The silver-haired Inquisitor looked back at him.
'I am Inquisitor Torias Vanko, Ordo Xenos.' He replied curtly, before beckoning for them to follow him towards the modified gun cutter.