Episode 29
Unnatural Taste
The field was covered with the peaceful green of grass rather than the warmongering green of orks. Pine trees scattered in clusters throughout the valley swayed when the wind whistled through their diminishing canopies. Bird chirped as they flew between branches. The air was cool but not cold, and a strong scent of sap made every inhale nauseating for the lead Inquisitor who saw nature's splendor as pathetic. It lacked the glory of the Emperor.
"Of course, we forgot the gas masks," said the tall one.
"Quit your bitching," said the short one. "It's a lot fucking better than the ship's nauseating shit vapor."
The four Inquisitors walked the Sun-kissed path along the mountainside as the Sun set behind them. Mixed with the pine needles, wood chips glistening in their coat of sap covered the path, crunching under their feet. At the front walked Purge-A-Lot, behind walked the tall one, then the short one, and at the back Cut-Face watched kept an eye on their six as their uniforms stood out against the environment. All but the lead huffed and puffed as they trudged up a steep, rocky path.
"Do not lose faith, my fellow Inquisitors! For our struggles are short under the benevolent gaze of our just Emperor! Rejoice in our brief trials for His glory!" the lead Inquisitor said, and frowned as a chorus of sighs echoed behind him.
"Are we going cook when we find a settlement?" asked the short one. "Because I am certainly not in the mood."
"That is the plan, your plan, may I remind you. Unless you want to go by my plans, which I would be fine with."
The tall one turned his head back, looked the short one in the eye with disapproval, and cleared his throat.
Hours passed and the weary troop of four found themselves at the gates of a large city where three wheeled vehicles entered and left from rails above. With the sun peeking over the horizon, they briefly discussed finding somewhere to stay for the night before entering.
Once more the populace paid no attention at the travelers, other than brushing shoulders, bumping into them, hurling insults, and doing whatever means necessary to make sure that the foreigners felt a warm welcome. The Inquisitors came into a large shopping plaza filled with tables, shrubbery, and fountains, all lit by glowing green crystals with strange symbols imprinted into them. Cut-face had an uncomfortable feeling of familiarity with the symbols, having the expertise of the Ordos Xenos. One thing that caught Purge-A-Lot's attention was the array of flags strung on ropes stretching over the open expanse.
The lead Inquisitor grabbed a local's shoulder. "Who's flags are those?"
"They're n-national flags, sir!" the young boy said.
"That's a lot of flags for one country-"
The short one cleared his throat.
The lead Inquisitor, offended by the correction, glared at his fellow and then turned back to the child. "So different flags for different countries?"
"Yes."
The lead Inquisitor tossed the child into a nearby stack of fruit crates, sending produce in all directions. "Why didn't our agents tell us that we were dealing with a multi-national colony planet?!"
"Of course, you asked a closed question."
"If I remember correctly," the short one said. "You asked if there was heresy and immediately scolded the agents the second they tried to explain in detail the situation."
"They were rambling about all sorts of things. I wanted to know if the planetary governor would cooperate and assist us."
"Look around you, Purge-A-Lot, could you explain this without rambling?" said Cut-face. "Back up there I wasn't just scolding your ass just because it was rude to interrupt them. This is what I was trying to point out-"
"I don't remember sending you down."
"That sometimes it takes a bit of yapping to describe a complex situation."
"And if I still remember correctly," the short one said. "You called them liars when they told you that there was no planetary governor and that there hasn't been one for the past two thousand years."
"Because that's a bunch of heretical bullshit," said the lead Inquisitor. He turned to the boy who was scrambling to get on his feet and picked him up by the collar. "Where is your governor?!"
"G-governor?!"
"Answer me!"
"A-at the capital center! Two kilometers from here, sir!"
"Aha! We need to get there quickly, what transportation do you recommend?"
The boy gasped for air.
"WHAT METHOD OF TRANSPORTATION DO YOU RECOMMEND, CHILD?!"
"T-the rail, the rail!"
The lead Inquisitor hurled the child into a nearby fountain.
"Of course, it is very strange that a child knows the distance."
Cut-Face and the short one glared at the tall one. The tall one's eyes opened wide when he understood. He took a clump of his long red hair, stuffed it into his mouth, and turned away.
"Good thinking, Inquisitor!" said Purge-A-Lot. "If he's lying, then we shall bring justice to the child and his irresponsible parents!" He paused and smiled as an idea came to mind. "Aaaah... There's one way we can check. Gentlemen, tonight we board in this child's home!"
Muffled by the hair in his mouth, the tall one said, "But couldn't that be illegal?"
"My dear red-head, the only way we Inquisitors could ever do something truly illegal is if we were to not follow the Emperor's will by performing our duties to him. If their laws forbid us from performing his duty, then the laws are heretical and must be rewritten by us whether it be by ink or by their blood!"
Cut-face and the short one looked at one another, their eyes searching for the will to speak in defense. Yet with the knowledge of their pushy, stubborn colleague, they kept their lips sealed.
"Remove your hair from your mouths and focus, Inquisitors! We have a duty at hand, and an opportunity to bring this planet into submission to the Emperor without having to cook a single pastry! Prepare your weapons and your tongues, for I guarantee you that we will have an ally in our plight this time tomorrow!"
Rolling in a pit of mud, Basep squealed with joy, joints squeaking and mud coating his body of metal. Through the mud, in the dim shadow of twilight, the blue segments of the scarab flickered blue. Azultep crouched down and watched the little scarab with amusement, his jaw bent into a crooked grin. A cold gust of wind whistled through the ancient king's armor as dirt sprayed against it.
Behind, Kophtet bashed his head into a dead tree. Only if he could go alone, everything would be fine. Instead he was paired with a crazy old machine who preferred infiltration of all things. It was hard to picture the old king as a stealthy Necron, then again he could phase in an out at will, something Kophtet could do but didn't do often. It wasn't in his style.
"Aw, isn't he so ADORABLE?!" said Azultep.
"Can we get going? I have plans-"
"And all the time you could ever need. My dear Cryptek, there are many things you should not take for granted in post-life, one of them being our Eternal state."
"I mean no disrespect, but I'd like to get plenty done before I turn into an old senile asshole like you."
Azultep's head rotated a full one hundred and eighty degrees to look at the Cryptek with mischievous face. "What did you say? My old senile asshole senses are tingling quite wonderfully for some strange reason, so I was a bit distracted." He snapped his fingers and twenty Scyrens phased in around the six legged Cryptek.
Kophtet stepped back, hands in the air. "Nothing! Nothing at all! I was just agreeing with you that yes, Basep is indeed adorable in the mud!"
"Oh, okay." Azultep's head rotated back around, clicking. "Be a little louder, and perhaps a bit more patient like your scarab friend here next time. You might learn a thing or two."
Kophtet cleared his throat and proceeded to bang his head against the dead tree.
