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Chapter 10: Tonight, we dine in hell
=ATBS=
Part 1
=ATBS=
Victory Bay
Kronus
I stared at Karom with empty eyes, my mind struggling with what he just told me. I've been expertly mind-fucked. In fact, I now had a reason to suspect everything I knew from before boarding the ship that brought me here. Was Delkatar Veil even my name? I shook my head. I didn't have time for an existential crisis. I had to get myself in hand and deal with the brand new disaster that just found its way to fuck my life.
"Magos, we're about to enter combat with Arch-Traitors to the Imperium, casualties are going to be extreme. Your experience will save some of our people who otherwise will die. That is the only reason
Commissar Weber isn't arranging a firing squad as we speak."
"I am not?" Charles sounded particularly disappointed and I couldn't blame him under these circumstances. "I mean, as you command, My Lord!"
"You aren't. However, if the Magos fucks up again, I'm going to give him to our Ogryn friends and see how long it will take them to pull him apart."
"I like how you're thinking, Lord Inquisitor!"
"That's not fair! I was only trying to help!" Karom whined making me wonder how the hell he managed to get to his current rank without someone killing him.
"Do the words 'need to know' mean anything to you Magos?" I glared at the cyborg. "Get out of my sight." I dismissed him and turned my ire on the other Tech-cultists. "Now, you bunch. Anyone volunteering as firing squad target?"
Volunteer Number One, who had no less than two dozen weapons aimed at him, an achievement in itself in the small hospital room, let out a string of Binary at me, which prompted a few of his or her friends to begin cursing us as well.
"That's uncalled for!" The reasonable Cogboy, Scipio-Ro-11 I think, snapped at his buddies.
"Magos, I have the sneaking suspicion that if you translate what they're chanting, I'll have them summarily shot without a second thought, am I right?"
"While it's your right, Inquisitor, we do need every Tech-priest we have!" Scipio-Ro implored.
"I'm aware of that, Magos. What I'm not convinced of is the utility of this bunch. Can we trust them not to sabotage the war effort or try to engineer a confrontation with our allies? Distasteful or not, our alliance with the Necrons is likely going to be the one thing that keeps Kronus from falling to actual heretics and traitors." Even as I spoke, I wondered at how oddly calm I felt. After I just found out that I was mind-fucked, I knew I should be having all kinds of logical and expected reactions, like freaking out of my mind for example. The training I could remember would have helped mitigate it somewhat, however not to this extent. Was this an artifact left from the memories that someone took from me, or a consequence of the procedure that did it?
Well, obviously I wasn't all right, despite the odd cold calmness gripping me right now. Scipio-Ro-11 was speaking, yet my mind failed to register his first words.
"...supervision. I'll personally make sure that they will act exemplary as Members of the Cult Mechanics always must!"
I focused my attention on the Cogboy while trying my best to keep my mind on point.
"I'll hold you up to this promise, Magos. See to it and get them out of my sight as well." I sent my best glare at the Martians who were still busy cursing me in Binary.
Scipio-Ro bowed to me, muttering his gratitude, and turned to face his rogue minions before he blasted in deafening Binary at them. I didn't bother paying attention to the exchange but instead looked at Charles.
"Commissar, I want people watching our Mechanicus contingent just in case."
"I'll see to it, My Lord."
"Good. In that case, let's go see the Ogryns before they decide to bring down the building on our heads." I slowly stood up, finding that my feet weren't particularly steady. What a joy. While Scipio was still busy berating his minions I checked if all my appendages still worked as advertised – slowly and carefully so I wouldn't make a complete fool of me if they didn't. With everything being mostly in order, I looked around for my equipment, which I found put in a corner of the room, almost completely hidden by Anteas' bulk.
The good news was that the Cogboys decided not to commit an expensive suicide right now, but instead continue to be a pain in my ass in the future and piled out of the room, while still cursing in Binary.
"They're going to be trouble," I muttered to myself.
"Then why did you let them live, Inquisitor?" Anteas asked.
"Politics and the fact that we do indeed need every one of the toaster-fucking bastards for the time being," I grumbled in response and squeezed past the Librarian to get my gear.
"What's a toaster?" Someone asked.
I paused at that. I wish I knew the answer. Nevertheless, I turned my head in the general direction of the voice and spoke in a deadpan tone. "Something the Cogboys gleefully fuck that is most certainly not meant for fucking."
"That actually makes a twisted kind of sense." Anteas wisely nodded. "Are you really all-right, Inquisitor?"
"I'm as well as I can be given the circumstances," I admitted after putting my sword on my belt. I attached my pistol's holster on the other side, grabbed the various odds and ends Karom had removed for the examination, and pocketed them.
"That's not particularly reassuring." Anteas pressed on.
"I'm well aware of that." I nodded in agreement. "Work first, an existential crisis later, preferably when we have the time to safely drain a few bottles of amasec."
"I can get behind that plan." Weber pipped up.
"Excellent, then you're buying the first round during the victory celebrations." I declared with false cheer and ponderously headed for the door.
My Stormtrooper bodyguards fanned moved in front of me, scanning for threats. As soon as the Cogboys' beeping faded out, I could hear the angry grumbling of Ogryns coming from outside. I hastened my steps as much as I dared and soon reached the entrance, where Corporal Santos and his troopers fanned out, forming a thin barrier between me and what appeared to be a huge crowd. This was indeed what looked suspiciously like a mechanized battalion surrounding the hospital, though there was a large free space in front where the Ogryns were gathered, all of them armed and armored to the teeth. I could also see a lot of curious locals staring at us from the windows of nearby buildings, though the streets were clear of civilians.
This was a proper circus, only the Necrons were missing, though I was pretty sure they had a handful of cloaked machines watching the show.
"As you can see, I am very much alive and in my right mind." I declared aloud, happy that my voice didn't crack. "And I'm very fucking disappointed," I added, though my words got swallowed by the deafening cheers of the Ogryns, who happily waved their guns around. At least they managed not to shoot someone by accident.
As soon as I had that thought, one of the Ogryns got a bit too excited and discharged his assault shotgun. He failed to take out someone's head. Instead, by pure luck or the Emperor's design succeeded in nailing a familiar-looking scarab-like machine, which fell to the ground covered by green lighting.
Predictably, at that point, everyone got their weapons at the ready and either aimed at the Ogryns or at anything that might be a cloaked Necron machine. The celebrating Ogryns naturally returned the favor, producing an armed stand-off. My bodyguards were not outdone and formed a live shield in front of me, while Anteas towered behind us and I could sense him drawing on Warp energies.
Fuck my life, what in the Emperor's name did I do to deserve this?
=ATBS=
Part 2
=ATBS=
Victory Bay
Kronus
Honestly, stunts like these gave birth to particularly treacherous rumors and various not sufficiently patriotic movies, that as often as not get the local Arbiters busy cracking heads. And that was a tangent my mind had no business going at while everyone pointed guns at each other.
"Commissar Weber." My voice came out of my lips as a quiet hiss. "It appears a lot of people need remedial weapon discipline training." I looked at the troopers watching each other warily and felt my facial scars stretch uncomfortably when my eyes began to twitch from sheer vexation.
"It appears so, Inquisitor." My blood-thirsty acquaintance promptly agreed.
"In the Emperor's name, stand the fuck down!" My voice snapped like a whip. "Commissars, deal with this. Some remedial training is in the order I reckon." I shook my head at the sheer bloody idiocy of what just happened and gave my best-disappointed look to the Ogryns. After that, I marched towards a nearby Chimera, determined to requisition it, and go see what mischief the Necrons were up to. Not to mention, I had to explain how they lost a drone because of an itchy trigger finger.
My bodyguards fell in formation around me, with Anteas effortlessly striding behind us. Meanwhile, Weber began issuing orders to the nearby Commissars which would hopefully ensure there would be no more such embarrassing and dangerous incidents. Now if it only could be so easy to deal with the Necrons and Blood Ravens before we got another shooting or stabbing incident…
We pilled up in a transport I promptly requisitioned.
"Anteas, where is the technology our allies provided?"
"One of the Tech-Priests compounds near General Alexander's HQ."
"Driver, get us to the HQ. Anteas, what's that rumbling I'm hearing because we aren't shooting at each other?" I asked the Librarian, who barely fit at the back of the Chimera.
We left as fast as the Chimera could accelerate with a Space Marine weighing it down. Behind us, I could barely hear the screams of pissed off Commissars. It was like music to my ears.
We spent the next twenty minutes or so in a comfortable silence, which offered me some sorely needed time to get my head straightened up as much as possible. Various mental exercises and quiet prayers to the Emperor helped a bit. The latter even earned me a few nervous smiles from the troopers stuck inside with us.
A wave of static electricity washed over me, focusing my mind on the here and now. It was a weird sensation, like nothing I've experienced before. The energy wasn't physical I found out a moment later. It didn't touch my skin, instead, it clashed over and around my soul. With every passing moment, the ever-present sensation of wrongness and power emanated from the Warp-Storm nearby felt more distant, losing their grip on me. My eyes widened and I warily attempted to touch the Immaterium. It felt distant, more distant than ever, and with every passing heartbeat, that distance increased. I was sure that very soon it would be out of my reach. At the same time, I could feel the walls separating the Materium and Immaterium strengthen, in a way that was similar yet not to a Gellar Field in action.
A couple of minutes later, the Warp was little more than a distinct echo. For the first time since I could remember, I could breathe easily, as if a great weight no longer pressed upon my whole being.
Soon the effect became apparent even to the troopers who were lucky enough not to have a clear connection with hell itself in their souls. The Guardsmen and women in the Chimera looked around, more lively and dare I say, light-hearted than before.
"The device is indeed working, Inquisitor." Anteas rumbled.
I nodded with a smile. This… it was a game-changer. And I would be damned if I wasn't going to throw it in the faces of the damned traitors we would soon be facing.
When we reached the Martian's compound with the nice Necron devices and disembarked, it was immediately clear their effect was great for the morale. Even with groups of Necron Scarabs and other assorted drones flying around, not to mention a group of their infantry standing at attention near the entrance, the soldiers dug in nearby were all in a much better mood than they had any right to be. I had never paused to think about how the Warp might passively affect regular people, especially when there weren't friendly warp-touched entities or artifacts to boost their morale. You know, like the odd Imperial Saint or relic.
This was certainly something worth studying in the future… if we didn't get all shot as heretics for dabbling in what we shouldn't have.
A couple of minutes later, we were inside and pass the security checkpoints. The heart of the building was one giant workshop. A large monolith made of the same stuff the Necrons were built of stood as the centerpiece. Thick cables connected it to a pair of portable plasma generators through crude attachments. Green lighting forked up and down its surface and I could feel energy resonating with my very soul as I approached it. While it wasn't exactly uncomfortable, I would never call the sensation pleasant either.
Groups of Martians chanted in Binary. A few of them knelt reverently in front of the Monolith, while others took readings with all kinds of sensors. Incense burned all around the workshop and to top it all Servo-Skulls flew around carrying smoking sticks of it.
At least no one was spraying the device with blessed oil, though there was a pair of toaster-fuckers with what suspiciously looked like sprayers ready nearby.
A single Necron Praetorian stood proudly close by and if I didn't know better, I would swear he was rolling its solid glowing eyes.
"Inquisitor." The Necron announced in a toneless synthetic voice. "You're alive." The Praetorian turned to look at me. "And you appear more or less sane." He lowered his head a bit to look at me closer. "Or so it appears. Please explain… this…" He pointed clawed fingers at the Martians who were all too busy with their religious fervor to pay us any attention.
"Sadly, ever since the fall of the Human Federation, these are what passes for our scientists and engineers.' My facial muscles twitched at the very idea. "By treaty and out of desperation," I added.
I wasn't sure where those words came from. What I knew was that sooner or later I would be paying for them.
"Praise the Omnissiah!"
"By the Motive Force!"
That much I understood. The gleeful beeping I was reasonably sure I didn't want a translation of.
The Necron looked at the Martians, then back at me.
"You don't say, Inquisitor."
"I'm glad you've lived up to your part of our bargain. How many of these devices can you have operational for when we strike at the Deimos Peninsula? Their ability to wall off access to the Warp is going to be invaluable."
"Not as many as we would like." The Necron rumbled in a deep voice that was a passable imitation of Anteas' deep baritone. "I find myself curious. From what we've been able to figure out, your kind is supposed to be frothing at the mouth because of our very presence and stirring up the locals on a crusade against us on general principle."
"Didn't we agree that I'm a sane Inquisitor? Don't worry, when our respective reinforcements arrive, we'll probably have to either kill each other or get blasted from orbit on general principle."
The Necron simply stared at me, while Anteas groaned.
"It's a good thing you aren't a diplomat, Inquisitor."
"There's that. Yet, what I just said is unfortunately to be our future. On the bright side, before we get blasted from orbit, we might ruin the Chaos' day and avoid getting our souls devoured by Demons. So there's that."
"My Lord provisionally agrees. When reinforcements arrive, all bets are going to be off." The Necron concluded.
"On the bright side, we might get lucky. Sanity and common sense might for once rear up their ugly heads."
"I find that unlikely." The Necron decided to rain on my parade.
"I find myself in the uncomfortable position of agreeing with the Xeno." Antes pipped up.
"Let me have my delusions until I got thrown up into an Inquisitorial interrogation chamber or shot on general principle. At any rate, before we might suffer such auspicious ends, we have work to do. Anteas, my friend, please get the attention of a few of our Martian friends. I need to ask them a few questions."
=ABKR=
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