Chapter 6

Sir Achilles Venator, Lord General of the Urban Tigers

The last few days had been some of the most painful in Achilles' life.

That's saying something, he grimaced to himself, remembering his extensive military career.

He'd already lost track of the days. He blamed it on the fact that he was locked in a blacked out cell most of the time. His cell was so dark he couldn't see the walls, but he knew it was two by two metres wide. Water leaked through the bricks, keeping the room always cold and uncomfortable. He estimated he'd been in the Ordo Xeno's custody for a week.

They'd stripped him of his rank and possessions. All he wore was a loincloth and lice. The only food he got was the rats they kept in his cell to bite at his toes. The only water he got was the drizzle that leaked through the walls; the same water that kept him from sleep. The only sleep he got was when they finally knocked him out at the end of his torture sessions.

They knew he was a survivor.

They hadn't even bothered questioning him, yet he didn't think them stupid for it. They knew that he wouldn't say anything unless he was broken.

But it would take more than they could give to break a man like Achilles. The blindness and injustice of his situation infuriated him. The short-sightedness of this Inquisitor was exactly what the Tigers were trying to free themselves when the Commissar was executed.

The barred door to his cell slid open an Inquisitional Stormtrooper entered the cell.

"Come with me," he commanded. Achilles didn't move.

"You must be new," Achilles said, spitting at the man's feet. "We normally do this in here." He wasn't about to be ordered around.

"I know," the man replied. "Today's different. Come with me."

Achilles slowly got to his feet. His ankles and wrists were bound by shackles too small for him. He towered a head over the Stormtrooper.

"You have my attention," he said, spitting again. As unsavoury as he was acting, he hated everything that the Ordo Xenos stood for at this point.

The Stormtrooper went to grab Achilles elbow, but only earned himself a sprained wrist after it was forcefully knocked back.

"Don't touch me."

The Stormtrooper didn't argue. Achilles could see the fear in the man's eyes. The Inquisition's treatment of the Lord General over the past week had reawakened a beast within Achilles that had slept since his last deployment.

His once slightly unkempt appearance had grown into a monster. He looked like a wildling. His beard had grown out and his hair was frazzled. His once warm, deep brown eyes were now a furnace of rage beneath a brow that was as hard as rock. Any excess fat his body once possessed had been stripped away to uncover his chiselled physique.

The Stormtrooper led Achilles down a narrow concrete corridor. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He was lead into a large square interrogation room and left there. In the centre of the room was a desk with chairs on either side of it. At the back of the room was the mannequin from Achilles' office, adorned with his armour and weapons. He didn't let his rage manifest itself on his face.

He placed himself heavily in one of the chairs, hoping to face away from the mannequin. Unfortunately, a reflective window was facing him, and he saw both himself and the mannequin in it.

He studied his own reflection for a moment. This was the first time he'd seen himself since he was arrested. He was taken aback at how abruptly his body had changed; adapted.

He liked his wild appearance.

The door reopened and the Inquisitor himself strode into the room. His green greatcoat swirled behind him and his golden cane was tucked under his arm. He turned sharply on his heel to face Achilles.

"Greetings, Sir Venator," he said, almost mockingly. Achilles remained seated and silent. He felt that the look of contempt on his face forwent any need for talk.

The Inquisitor waited for a reply. Upon realising that none was coming, he strode over to the chair opposite Achilles.

"You run a tight ship, General," The Inquisitor began, placing his cane across his lap and his arms on the table. He pulled a file out of his greatcoat and placed it on the table.

The compliment took Achilles back. He looked into the Inquisitor for awhile, trying to discern anything that he could, but he couldn't read the man.

After a while, Achilles cleared his throat and said quietly:

"Why now have you chosen to bring me here? Why not straight away?"

"Oh, we had things to sort out, paperwork and what-not," the Inquisitor said, trying to brush it off. "I'm sure you'll understand."

"I see," Achilles said with a click of his tongue.

"Yeah, actually there were a few things I wanted to ask you," the Inquisitor continued. "Firstly, what happened to the Lord Commissar? Ryan, I believe his name was."

"Ah, he was killed," Achilles replied, staring straight at the man. "Tragic accident, that was."

The Inquisitor gave a faint smile.

"How unfortunate," he said cordially. He opened the file on the desk. "Now how about your right-hand man. Trigger, I believe he's known as. You wouldn't have any idea where he is?"

"No."

"Of course not. What of these… rumours of your alliance with a Xeno warband? Anything you'd like to tell me?"

"I'm afraid I can't help you there."

"I understand. And the Chaos cult?"

"I know nothing."

The two men stared at each other for several tense seconds.

"I don't know what you're trying to do here, but-" Achilles said in a low voice.

"-I'm just trying to get to the bottom of all this and restore peace to the sector."

Achilles slammed his fists on the table.

"You want to restore peace?" he roared. "How about sending some of your Emperor-damned Deathwatch to kill some Tau?"

"Please, General, sit," the Inquisitor said soothingly. "Have a drink."

From somewhere within his greatcoat, he pulled a glass bottle and two glasses. He poured a small amount of golden liquid into each glass and passed one to Achilles.

Achilles cautiously raised his glass to his lips, suspecting poison. He was slightly reassured when he saw the Inquisitor take a sip of the drink.

"I still don't know your name, Inquisitor," Achilles said, trying to buy a few seconds. The Inquisitor peered at him from behind the rim of his glass.

"My name is Charles Lautrec," he replied. While he was talking, Achilles took a quick sniff of his drink. His face darkened as he recognised the smell.

"Such hospitality, to offer me my own drink," he said darkly. He glared at Charles and watched as fear crept across his face.

Achilles threw the glass across the table and watched it shatter on the Inquisitor. The man shrieked in pain as the glass cut his face and the harsh liquid burned his flesh.

The Inquisitor's warm façade failed and he leapt to his feet, slamming his palms on the table. His face was red with anger and blood. He opened his mouth to curse at Achilles, but the General jumped to his feet and slammed his palms on the table, to much greater effect.

"Sit down!" he roared at the man. A bit of the Inquisitor's bravado left the man, but to his credit he stayed standing.

"I said sit down!" Achilles roared again, pushing Charles in the chest and sending him falling over his chair and onto the ground. He advanced on the downed man but stopped when the door burst open and a huge Astartes burst into the room. He was clothed in black robes, but even without his power armour he was big enough to dominate the room easily.

The Marine rushed at Achilles. The General braced himself, and a moment before the Astartes reached him he tried to throw a frenzied punch at his face, but he had no hope of hitting the monstrous man.

The Marine pinned Achilles against the wall by pressing his forarm against his throat.

The Inquisitor picked himself off the floor and tried to regather what dignity he had left. He pulled a handkerchief out of his pocket and mopped up some of the blood on his face.

He approached Achilles who was still pinned against the wall, his hands behind his back.

"You just assaulted an Imperial Inquisitor," Charles said, his face inches from Achilles. "I'll have you hanged for that. But not before I hunt down Trigger, your Eldar allies and destroy any honour your regiment has left when I find this cult!"

Achilles spat in his face.

"It's been over 24 hours since you lost Trigger, you'll only find him when he wants you to, I assure you," Achilles said.

"We'll see about that," the Inquisitor said. He nodded to the Astartes, who put a little more pressure on Achilles' neck.

A few seconds later, the Lord General's world went black.

+++ Hi everyone,

I think this is the first time I've written to you guys. Please forgive me for the time gap between the 5th and 6th chapters, I'll try to be more diligent.

For future reference, the Urban Tiger's Stormtroopers are known amongst the Tigers as Spartans. I wanted to give them an alternative name to Stormtroopers, in the same way that Cadian Stormtroopers are Kasrkins, and Kreig Stormtroopers are Grenadiers. I was tossing up between Spartans or Centurions, but since the release of the new Marine Centurions, I took it as a sign from the Emperor to name them Spartans.

I have a mate who is also writing fanfics about my Urban Tigers, and I'm trying to convince him to allow me to upload them to the site (Under his name, of course). So you may be seeing more of the Tigers in yet another story which I'll be editing, otherwise full credit goes to him.

Thanks to everyone who has posted reviews, it's you guys who keep me writing. I guess I'll start giving y'all feedback for the feedback you gave me.

Mr. Trigger/Sonicanpersonallytellyou: I'm not 100% sure what name you go by, so I just put both. Thanks for you in depth review and advice. I don't know if you've noticed, but I've tried to take it on board and tried to use some cooler English, I hope it's paying off.

BIBOTOT: Thanks for your reviews across all my stories. I am aware that this story is slower than my others, but I'm doing this on purpose because I'm trying to go really in-depth with this one.

Kit: Thanks for following the story! I'm not sure if you're being sarcastic about liking the cliff-hanger or not, but you'd better get used to them ;) Hopefully they keep you wanting to read.

artilyon-rand: Thanks to you too for following the story :) I realise that I've been calling the Eldar elves, as in my opinion they essentially are space elves. I assure you its no mistake that I refer to them as elves. I wanted something quick to refer to them as in everyday language. For example: "What kind of a man are you?" would translate to "What kind of an elf are you?" when talking to an Eldar. If refering to individual Eldar as elves is strongly going against the lore, I will amend it, but for now I think that speech flows better

Anyway, that's all for now. I hope everyone's enjoying the story, and to anyone out there, it'd be cool if you took the time to leave your thoughts, good or bad.

Thanks,

Shpodoinkle +++