Episode 11

An Unexpected Inquisition

The Inquisitor passed through the city streets, staring at the colonists around him. Some looked at him with curiosity, while others bumped into him without second thought. The air smelled of Chaos, but that could be the person in front of him who just farted. If Chaos was present it was well hidden in the thick urban environment that covered most of the planet. Not even the best of his colleagues could find a trace of a daemon or any other force of Chaos. Yet even if Chaos was not on this planet, heresy was abound.

His belief that only the planetary governor was involved in the revolt he soon realized was mistaken. On other planets, the populace followed the word of their leaders. Here there seemed to be absolute disregard for authority. In the streets citizens spoke their doubt not only in their government but also in the unknown god, the Emperor of Mankind. Others openly mocked his divine forces, making fun of the extremely religious tone of the mythical Imperium. The Inquisitor felt the urge to purge all of these colonists, to make an example out of some of them, but such a plan was futile as even the citizens were well armed and aware of their surroundings. However, no one feared him as an authoritative figure who dispensed the Emperor's Will and way to rowdy populaces. They saw the Inquisitor to be nothing but a confused man lost on his way to a costume party.

This planet could defend itself from the forces looming above, and a victory for them could encourage further heresy if anyone outside of the system found it. There was no use silencing the heretics now, yet the more he waited for reinforcements the greater it would grow. All this made him feel a level of discomfort he never though could exist.

Figuring that it would be best to wait in the air above and not provoke the populace any further, he lead his party back to the hangar bays only to find an armed force surrounding their craft. The Inquisitor bit his lip, ground his teeth, and approached the lead guard.

"Disperse your men, these craft belong to the Inquisition."

"Not until you pay the fine," said the guard, holding out an pink slip. "Unregistered weapons, unannounced cargo, landing without permission, no contact with the air tower, and a fuck-ton of other transportation violations."

"I said, disperse your men! These craft are of the Holy Inquisition!"

The lead guard grinned. "No. The Knights of Ladies Underwear have as much claim to these craft as you do." He waved the slip in the air. "I don't give twelve shits about this so called 'Inquisition'. Unless they can write us a check within the next thirty days these ships are grounded and will be impounded by the lawful authority of the Lord Regent of the Fifth City."

"IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR REMOVE THYSELF FROM THE PREMISES AND CEASE YOUR RESISTANCE!"

The guards stepped forward and trained their weapons on the Inquisitor's party. "In the name of lady bras and panties calm thy tone and pay thy bill, or go fuck thyself. Lest ye wish to be cast into the dungeons, ye baggart. Now speak plainly, as this tongue be pointless."

The Inquisitor scowled at the guard and dug into his pockets. He pulled them out and found only handfuls of lint. He looked to his party and they returned with shell casings, ration wrappings, beer tabs, and shrugs.

The guard crossed his arms. "No money, no fly."

"Surely we can negotiate a deal."

"You know what? Sure. You give me a few things me and my boys want, and we'll let you go."

"Alright."

"First, I want that woman's silly hat."

"What?"

"You heard me, give me her hat."

The Inquisitor turned to his companion who cautiously removed her cap. He then handed it to the guard.

Putting on the hat, the guard turned to his subordinates who gave their nodding approval. "Alright, how about the rest of you boys. What do you want from these violators of the law?"

"I would like her dress," said a guard. "I've always wanted a deep red dress, especially with armor."

"Alright," said the lead guard. "Anyone else?"

"Her gloves!" "Her boots!" "The clothes under!" "Her hair pins!" "Her panties!" "Her bra!" "Her socks!" They all cheered. More guards came around and joined in the fray, grabbing one another and pointing at the female Inquisitor.

They settled at a swift gesture of the hand. The lead guard grinned at the lead Inquisitor. "Easy boys, easy. Give the woman a chance to strip."

The lead Inquisitor stepped toward the guard. "Is this some kind of sick joke?"

"I believe I'm the one who should be asking that," said the lead guard. "Do you want to leave or be left to rot in prison?"

The Inquisitor looked at his female companion, who reluctantly began to take off her armor.

"You do not have to commit this heresy!"

She sighed. "Do you want to stand here and argue or return to the ship and contact reinforcements?"

"Fine," he spat.

One of the guards approached his superior and whispered in his ear. The lead guard grinned, and whispered to the subordinate, "You're a dirty bastard, but okay." He turned to the Inquisitor. "And one more special request. Fulfill this and we will cease all troubles as you leave."

"What is it?" the Inquisitor growled.

"Give us the woman."

"No."

"Fine. Boys, call the scrappers and set the charges." Rifles squealed on and pistol hammer's cocked. "The rest of ya, set your sights-"

Someone pulled Inquisitor back and the lead guard stopped. When the Inquisitor looked to see who it was, he found a naked female Inquisitor nodding. Pushing him aside, she stepped forward and two guards took to her sides, taking both of her hands, and lead her away while their companions kept their weapons trained on the Inquisition team.

The Inquisitors boarded their craft with a newfound dislike for the planet's inhabitants.

As the craft disappeared into the clouds, the lead Inquisitor looked past his reflection in the window to the planet surface zooming away.

"This planet will be purged," he muttered.

She stroked the throbbing cock with a deep lust.

Nephalut gazed into the terrified eyes of the Terran.

"H-heresy..." he groaned.

"Oh yes, let me be your sweet, sweet Heresy," she said in a soft, feminine voice. She stuck out her grey tongue and licked him. "You taste soooo good... We'll make a lovely batch."

Malat crawled on top of the Terran's shaved skull. Several long pins folded out from its stomach and came to rest on the skin. Malat's small face and six big eyes focused on Nephalut.

Nephalut received the biological readings and adjusted herself according to the quantity and quality of the hormones he was beginning to release. She altered the muscles in her throat and the structure of her face to produce the voice of his desire. Her face became soft and youthful - her lips thickened and the diameter of her black pearly eyes grew. Her hips swelled wide and her breasts supple and firm. Her abdomen adjusted to the appropriate ratio and her shoulders to the right length. Finally her hair shrunk down to a short cut with stunning bangs and turned to a fiery pink.

The hormone readings then told her that she had adjusted herself perfectly. The process reversed the sexual attraction but the end result brought it back to become twenty times stronger.

A pleased grin stretched across her face, and not just because she knew she was sexy. She grew closer to breaking open a religious mental block. "The Emperor..." he whispered.

She pressed her naked body against his and rubbed it up and down. Malat squeaked with amusement and sprayed lubricant between them. She breathed heavier and so did he. She could feel something big swell between her legs.

Tears welled in the Terran's eyes. "T-the... E-emperor..."

"The Empress," she replied.

"I am... loyal..."

"I am Heresy."

"I... c-can't..."

"I can."

She pulled him in and gave him the longest kiss she had given yet.

Kophtet turned away and covered where his ears would be if he was still organic. "Basep, cut the feeds. I've had enough of this perversion." The blue scarab squealed and smashed a glyph. The one-way windows darkened and the audio feed cut. Another blue scarab crawled onto the glyph-board next to Basep and squeaked with haste. Kophtet sighed and turned for the door. "Basep, let me know when this is over so the Oroskh doesn't harass me for leaving the console. Lord Szazadrekh needs me."

Kophtet descended in the lift several levels. The doors to the shaft opened into a large chamber. Across from the door, Szazadrekh was accompanied by four Lychguard overlooking a vast ocean of a liquid glowing neon cyan. The Lord, with hands behind his back, nodded and his Lychguard left. With his six legs Kophtet crawled to the side of the Lord.

"Kophtet... You know... I love... my scarabs..." He said in a heavy breath. "You... also know I hate... talking like this... but... it doesn't hurt to dabble... with... your peeeeve..." Belakh leaped from the ocean onto the Lord's shoulder. He squeaked with delight and nuzzled against his neck plating.

"But..." the Lord continued. "Practice... makes one near... perfection... which is... admired... by the other royalty..."

"Indeed, my dear friend. It never hurts to practice court manners while away."

"Yes. It is also nice to break such rules when you are not under the dreadful gaze of Lord Baszakareht."

"Oh, C'tan... That peculiar fellow."

"Indeed. He is a thorn in my side I wish was gone. However he is the dog of Krispekh, the Expansionist, and thus holds a greater influence in his word than my own, which makes it infuriating when plotting my fleet's course."

"I suppose your getting to-"

"He changed our course yet again. I would disassemble him and set him victim to the wrath of his own C'tan shard!"

"But where to, my Lord?"

"A place familiar."

"I beg your pardon, but you do remember I have no taste for games of rhetoric."

"Ah, yes..." Szazadrekh replied and flicked Kophtet's head.

Kophtet's gaze snapped to the Lord.

Szazadrekh chuckled. "Always the pissy-face, aren't we? Relax. When you're this royal respect can become a bore. Respect this, respect that. Soon there's so much respect that you can't have fun anymore and all eternity becomes an utter bore."

Kophtet turned back to the ocean. "My Lord..."

Szazadrekh flicked Kophtet again. "Kophy."

"Don't call me that."

"You're awfully stiff for a Necrontyr who used to hold the record for the softest dick."

"SZAZADREKH! Have some professionalism!"

"And you're still as deaf and unagreeable as Tarekh. Shame on you, you soul-less fuck."

"Watch your language!"

"Pbbt."

Belakh squeaked merrily.

"Well aren't you mature," Kophtet said to the Lord.

"Pbbt pbbt pbbt."

"That's nice and all, but can we get back to the-"

"Pbbbbt."

"Back to the-"

"Pbbbbbbbbbbbt."

"Can we get back to-"

"Pbbt pbbt pbbt pbbbbbbbbbbbbbbt!"

"SZAZA-"

"PPPPBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBTTTTT!"

"Damn it, Lord Szazadrekh!"

The Lord flicked Kophtet's head once again. "Oh Kophy, always so dense. You were asking?" he chuckled.

Belakh clapped his claws in delight.