From the Inquisitorial Archives

Extract "Improved construction techniques for large scale production of Voidships: A study of the Tetran process" by Magos Ferglossian

The Pitdog Class SDV is of little interest to the mechanicum in its finished form being markedly inferior to several other classes of SDV in almost every respect. But its construction is unique and worthy of study. The ship is built on a zero-G facility around one of the Tetran pillars. 104 separate docks are spaced around the pillar's 220km circumference. A single Pitdog is constructed in each. Set on massive bearings a second facility (believed to be the largest mobile Imperial structure in the subsector) is situated next to the docks. Once a week it turns by just over 3 degrees. In the first week of ship production a basic framework is laid down by massive constructor arms and a specialised heavy welding team based at the facility. At the end of the week the facility rotation move the constructor arms and crew quarters over a new dock and they begin work on a new Pitdog. At the previous dock machinery and specialists move in to lay down the casing for the main lance…..DOCUMENT THEN PRECISELY DETAILS 98 FURTHER CONSTRUCTION STEPS AND SUBSTEPS

….over the course of 100 weeks the vessel is fully finished. It undergoes 2 weeks of pre-flight testing and is then moved out of the dock, which itself then undergoes two weeks of maintenance before the start of a new construction cycle.

This unique form of manufacture means every week a newly finished ship is put into service. As each team has its equipment and quarters moved to the next ship to work on there is a huge efficiency increase as equipment is never idle and transit times are eliminated. Additionally as each crew performs the same task on a weekly basis there is additional efficiency improvement as the repetition reduces errors and allows skill levels to increase. It is estimated the reduction in construction time to be of the order of 43.7% with an increase in output quality of 12.4%...

DOCUMENT CONTINUES FOR 4763 PARAGRAPHS ANALYSING EFFICIENCY GAINS AND NOTABLE MANUFACTUING IMPROVEMENTS

…the main remaining inefficiency is due to the fact these are system defence vessels. Lacking Gellar fields or warp engines they must be transported to other systems via heavy haulers. Now in operation the speed of vessel production is fixed by the method of manufacture. The number of ships produced is higher than the number that can be reliably transported leading to the Tetran system having more SDV per capita than any world in the segmentum. Production of additional haulers has been repeatedly mooted but has been delayed due to….

EXTRACT CONTINUES FOR 103 PARAGRAPHS

Arbites Command

The door chimed and Kryn considered pretending to be out. But her sense of duty would not let her get away with it.

"Enter."

The door slid open and Tarik stood outside making no move to come in.

"I said enter."

"I wanted to give you chance to change your mind when you saw who it was."

She snorted. "Any Arbites would use my vox-link if it could wait or just walk in if it wasn't. What do you want?"

"We have a possible location on Trask."

"And you want a team." She tapped her link. "Duty team to the docking bay. Full combat kit. Get Totiem. Be there in five." She stripped off the dress jacket she was wearing and grabbed her armour. "What's the lead?"

"The psyker from the warehouse, we got a DNA match. From that we tracked the transport he came in on. False name of course but we linked the payment for passage to a burner account thought to belong to a Colnas Lyre. He is an agent who specialises in hiring out exotic weaponry. Including human weaponry."

"Why hasn't the Ordos picked him up?" She asked pulling on her leg armour and reaching for her combat boots.

"Hereticus will have its reasons. He may seem too small to bother with, or he may be supplying someone who gives him protection. I should be able to get him pushed up the priority list after this. More importantly the same account paid for 2 other tickets."

"Two more pyskers?"

"Potentially, or could be trained bodyguards. Or some sort of high class mercenary. But likely to be highly dangerous and one of the precincts near Angel Rise spotted one of the ticket holders with a man sporting a green facial tattoo. "

"Do they know they are under observation?"

"Hopefully not, they were under strict instruction to back off and report."

"So are you and Ulrich coming?"

Tarik handed her the gold inlayed bolt pistols that hung on the wall. She checked the clips, ran the action then placed them in her waist holsters and swung a combat shotgun across her back.

"I am. He isn't. If there is another psyker they would be able to sense Ulrich's approach before we got within 10k."

"So we go after their psyker without our psyker." She grunted and reached for some extra ammunition.

"You have me." Tarik's grin, usually so inoffensive, seemed to have a lot more teeth in than usual.

As the jet arrowed to its target Tarik clicked open a wideband vox channel to the combat squad.

"We may be facing psykers. If that is the case watch each other. If someone is behaving oddly report it. Very few psykers are capable of doing much if you remove the head so if in doubt aim there. One last thing, you may have noticed my collar it's a artefact that has a very particular use. If there is a psyker there I will have to use it. You may feel an unnatural loathing for me, that's simply a side effect and whatever you feel, the psyker will be worse affected to the point they may well not be able to function."

"So try not to shoot him as I imagine the Inquisition will be less than happy." Kryn added.

"But not as unhappy as I'll be." Tarik finished. he lent back against his seat message delivered. The Arbites were running final weapon checks. Totiem had reverted to his longlas and was calmly inspecting a set of replacement barrels and clips. Tarik noticed Kryn staring.

"Marshal?" He switched to a person to person channel, the noise in the troop compartment more than enough to keep their conversation private.

"So that collar, that's what I felt the last time."

"At the factory – yes."

"And you said it was the psyker."

There was a moment's pause, Tarik's eyes flickered for a moment as if in recollection. "Actually I just said 'Psyker' and let you assume. Some of his friends may have been alive in earshot. I wasn't going to risk being a target for them at the time, and don't want to be a target for your squad now if I use it."

"And this collar works for anyone?"

"No."

Kryn continued to stare, convinced that Tarik was lying, but not sure what exactly about.

"Sounds like a very useful artefact."

"People have killed for it."

That she believed without question.

Angel Rise was a little less seedy than Zander Falls but gave the impression that it was just a matter of time. There were still old family run businesses and the odd upmarket boutique, but the newer looking signs were all for bars and entertainment venues and the constant present of off duty guardswomen suggested that things would only tilt further that way. After landing at the base itself Kryn had commandeered a pair of medical transports. These were a fairly common sight in any area where the PDF might be found transporting the victims of bar brawls or over-intoxication somewhere they could be given treatment, punishment or more usually both. When they had reached the point of interest they disembarked swiftly and in close formation.

The heavily armed squad moved through the crowds like a shark through water. A few of the braver souls stopped to stare, most either threw themselves to one side or got to the nearest cover. As they reached the bar that their information had picked out Totiem took two men round the back as the rest of them crashed through the front door, taking up firing positions and covering the interior. In the evenings it might have been a heaving joint. There was a huge space for dancing, drinking and general revelry but now it was all but empty. Fake wood covered the walls and floor, scratched off in places to reveal the metallic reinforcing underneath. Battered tables and chairs had been piled haphazardly against a wall and the bar, a slab of rockcrete painted a battleship grey, had nothing on its worn surface but a couple of empty glasses. Behind the bar a pair of gunmen had set up a heavy stubber and were waiting nervously. Another pair were guarding a door and using the frame for what cover it provided. In the middle of the cavernous space was a single table, three people sat at it facing the Arbites squad. A pair of heavy calibre pistols were laid on the table in front of the central man the green tattoos identifying him as Trask as surely as a geneprint. On his left a young man sat twitching, on his right an older lady.

"Marshal. So good of you to join us. You wouldn't believe how often I had to walk past that Proc until he noticed me. The standards of local law enforcement are frankly embarrassing. Please sit." He gestured at a pair of empty chairs that had been set the opposite side of the table.

"Trask. You are bound by law. Come quietly and cooperate and I will ensure you receive the Emperor's Mercy. Resist and you will beg for death." Kryn reached for one of her bolt pistols and stopped.

"Really Marshal. Would I waste this opportunity to remove two of the larger impediments to business? You and Mr?"

"Tarik"

"Mr. Tarik should take a seat. Now!"

Mechanically Kryn found herself walking forward. Out of the corner of her eyes she saw the nearest arbitrator. While the helmet hid his expression sweat ran down his neck and his hand trembled near, but not touching the stock of his shotgun. The men by the stubber were beginning to relax as it she sat down in the chair indicated, followed a moment later by Tarik. This close Trask appeared older than she had guessed, a leatheriness to the skin and fine lines around his eyes and mouth suggesting multiple rejuvenant treatments that were beginning to lose ground to the inevitability of time. The eyes bloodshot over tattooed green corneas. Beside him his two minders were both showing some signs of strain, the young man twitching more now and muttering under his breath, the woman breathing heavily. Kryn tried to reach for her gun again but the woman just smiled slightly. Though sweat beaded on her forehead.

"It was obliging of you to save me the trouble of finding you. Though I was getting a little bored waiting." Trask gestured to a door through which a couple of cots and a small camping stove could be seen. "Jade here was very helpful warning us of your approach."

The psyker smiled, teeth white as ice. "Such anger Marshal. You burn like a flame and your kill team, wolves in a sheep pen. All these cotton wool minds, and you blunder through them thinking to take us by surprise."

"And now here you are, trying to disrupt my plans for the last time." Trask finished.

"You're attempting to cross the Inquisition. You will all die you know." Tarik began in a pleasant conversational tone.

"Everyone dies. But I don't intend it to be for a long time. Sadly your squad will be torn to pieces by stubber fire and only the two of you will make it out alive." Trask began reaching into his pockets with both hands and drawing out a pair of small metal scarabs. "Alive, but not however, unaffected, and certainly with no memory of our little chat."

"And what are you going to do about the second team that's going to hit you from the rear in less than five seconds." Tarik asked, loudly enough that Trask's men could hear clearly.

Trask did not even flicker in his attention, but the crew of the stubber cast a worried look towards the back door and in that moment Tarik reached up and touched the control of his collar. Expecting the wave of revulsion Kryn leapt from her chair throwing herself at Trask and sending both the scarabs and his pistols skittering across the floor. The two psykers were already down. The younger man simply dropped eyes blank. The woman screamed tearing at her hair before convulsing and hitting the floor with a solid thud. The heavy weapons team turned their attention back but could not fire on the Marshal for fear of hitting Trask and by the time they had retargeted the Arbites squad the first of the enforcers was already hurdling the bar intent on vengeance. The rest charged forwards trusting in their armour to take the first couple of rounds before they were in shotgun range. The two men threw their hands up in surrender.

The pair at the door lurched forwards and crashed into the room as Totiem and his team came in as promised from the rear. Trask was strong, but Kryn was furious, and in her armour heavier and she pinned him to the floor and delivered quick head butt with her helmet that knocked him into a stupor. Tarik's foot stamped down by her hand and she saw one of the scarabs smash into fragments. A pistol shot melted the other to slag and then it was over. Kryn flipped Trask over and cuffed his hands behind his back.

"What about the pyskers?" She asked.

Tarik shrugged his every action reeking of inhuman malice. "The boy is dead. The woman..." He raised his pistol and fired. "Is now dead." He holstered his gun and touched his collar, once again becoming the nondescript but likable cipher .

"So what do we have here?" He picked up the shattered remnants of the metal scarabs. "More mindshackles. That's an unusual thing for a gang member to be carrying."

Trask looked up from the ground and shook his head, blood dripping from a broken nose and a nasty gash across one cheek that was the mirrored imprint of the Aquila on Kryn's helmet. It gave the heretic a somewhat ironic look of sanctity.

"Get him up." Kryn growled and two of the enforcers grabbed a shoulder each and sat him back in his chair.

"You will pay for that."

"You have consorted with xenos, assaulted the Adeptus Arbites in the course of its duty and seriously hacked off the Inquisition." Tarik began, flashing an Inquisitorial rosette at the gang leader. "Your options are talk and die, or be excruciated until you are begging for death, then talk and die. Eventually."

"You think you're so powerful. You're dead and don't even know it. Just a corpse with a long death rattle."

Tarik looked at him puzzled. Then looked away and sub vocalised into his vox mike so only Kryn could hear. "You searched him right?"

"Do I look like a fraking amateur. I assumed he'd have at least one holdout, but he was clean." She hissed on the private channel.

"So what does he have."

Trask looked up and it was clear he had heard every word of the supposedly private conversation. "Allies. Rychek will ensure you get everything you deserve."

There was a shimmer by one wall and two Necron warriors stepped forwards where before there had just been fake wood and dust. There was a flash as a shot from Totiem took one in the throat as he dived for cover behind the bar. The hit Necron simply shifted its head from side to side as though flexing a stiff neck then fired a shot that blew a hole straight through the rockcrete. Shots rang out from the Arbites but their shotgun rounds were designed to tear through unarmoured targets and the few dents they put into the necrons simply flowed like water and disappeared.

"You see! Now you will pay!" Trask screamed in triumph and stood as the enforcers at his side dived for whatever cover they could find. That triumph lasted barely a second as two emerald green beams tore into him, his flesh stripping away followed swiftly by muscle and bone.

Kryn took careful aim and fired a clip of bolts into one of the metallic xenos. These did massive damage to its chest and the creature dropped to its knees. It's companion glared in her direction then stepped backwards, disappearing into the wall as mysteriously as it had arrived. The crippled creature shrieked, the only sound either had made during the entire engagement then vanished in a green haze.

Tarik stood stock still. His pistol was out but he had not fired at any point. He calmly replaced it in his holster then in a single motion swept the table clear of bottles and glasses. He ripped the top from the iron framework it rested on and threw it like an oversized plate to smash against the wall where the xenos had disappeared. He closed his eyes for a moment, then appeared to regain his usual good humour.

"That could have gone better. Shall we go?" He stalked towards the door, the Arbites giving him a very wide berth. Some openly staring at the heavy table and the large dent it had put in the wall. He threw open the door then held it, waiting. Kryn gestured to the squad leader who immediately began sweeping for evidence as others prepared the survivors for transport and interrogation back at the headquarters.

She left them to the routine work and walked back to the transport with Tarik.

"So we have a name. Rychek. Not one that is familiar to me but Sal may have something. She usually does."

Kryn tapped her wristslate and shrugged.

"Nothing on planetary records. At least under any logical spelling I can think of. I assume it's a name of a person rather than place."

"Person... or xenos perhaps."

They walked on, Kryn trying various alternate spellings and broadening her search to no great effect as they reached the transport and settled to await the rest of the assault squad she finally broke the silence.

"Tarik, your collar..."

Tarik seemed to stiffen for a moment then cocked his head attentively.

"It's just a collar isn't it. You're the one who took out those Psykers."

"You think that because?"

"You're a terrible bodyguard and if that was your purpose the Inquisition would have spaced you. If the collar was that important it would stay with Ulrich and be surrounded by stormtroopers at all times. So why would the Inquisition put it on you."

Tarik stretched then settled into one of the seats and gestured to the one opposite.

"The collar has a purpose and is actually very good at what it does. What crippled the pyskers was me turning it off. Have you ever heard of a psychic blank?"

Kryn thought then shook her head, something familiar about the term. But nothing she could recall.

"Also known as untouchables, pariahs. Or more commonly:" His voice took on a nasal heavily accented tone. "You soulless freak get away from me."

Though the last was timed for comic effect there seemed to be more pain behind it that was intended to get through. Admittedly Kryn credited Tarik with sufficient acting ability to have played it that way. On balance she took it as genuine.

"And you are one?"

"Yes. Inquisitor Belash found me here, he was a psyker. Well trained but not especially powerful. He could discern if someone was telling the truth or concealing something and had the odd flash of intuition, but he was barely strong enough to have been picked up by the Black ships. So when he passed me in the street he just got a blinding headache and sent his retinue to bring me in. Took them a couple of days to find me. A lifetime of avoiding lynch mobs will do that. I didn't know then why he had the collar with him but he needed it put on me before we could be in the same room. Then he told me what I was."

Kryn interjected.

"You evaded an inquisitorial search party for 2 days? How old were you?"

"6. Solstan. Probably. I'd never really needed to keep track that closely. Living on the streets who cared?"

Kryn looked with new respect. "So he told you what you were, which was?"

"A blank. A Psyker can control the warp, to some extent at least. Most people, blunts, are vaguely aware of it, they can feel when magic is being used nearby, suffer nightmares as they travel via the warp or can sense if someone is looking at them. Little things. A blank is totally cut off from the warp. For some it simply means being totally unaffected by the warp, immune to direct psychic control. For others that blankness to the warp extends beyond them. Warp powers fail near them, psykers too abruptly cut off from the warp are knocked out, go mad, or even just die. Daemons lose their unnatural speed and healing and become killable. Sorcerers and farseers, if they survive are stripped of their powers. We are the most potent anti-warp weapon the Imperium has."

"Why don't I know about this?"

"Because we're rare. Really rare. Maybe one in a million is a psyker. Maybe one in a million psykers is a blank. And we often don't live long. Even non-psykers sense there is something wrong, something missing, in us."

"And that's the profile of the people you are getting Sal to look for."

"Yes. I'm unusually detestable for a blank, lynch mobs are the exception. Unnatural dislike is usually all, but it is enough to ensure a friendless life with few opportunities. And if the Inquisition finds you. Well you are a weapon for fighting daemons and sorcerers. That isn't a viable long term career plan."

"But one in a million million, that's..."

"Quite. you would expect maybe one blank a century in a system this size. Belash found five in the year he found me. Something strange is going on."

"And he had a collar prepared."

"So he knew it was a possibility."

"What exactly does the collar do?"

"Most collars simply nullify the untouchable effect, pyskers can still operate around them. Despite the cancelling effect it still tends to leave people confused – they see a person but sense something as inanimate as a table. And given most people's reactions to blanks very few of us learn appropriate social skills so that is a second strike against us. My current collar is slightly different." He absentmindedly stroked the largest of the blue gems inset into the collar, it seemed to flicker slightly as if mist was trapped in the centre of the jewel. "It projects the psychic trace of a normal mind when active. With it I'm almost a normal person."

"Almost?"

"For reasons no one has ever explained to my satisfaction blanks also appear to lack a fear response. Against warpspawn it makes sense, they often literally cannot harm us. But why a warp sense is needed to feel fear when a dozen Orks are charging at you, who knows?"

"So Belash recruited you into the Inquisition?"

"Recruited? Eventually. Initially I was logged as ancillary equipment. He transferred from Hereticus to Xenos soon after I don't know if it was connected. Blanks are still pretty useful when opposing the Eldar and we appear to have an effect on the tyranid hive mind. Hereticus tends to throw them into the front line against Chaos sorcerers and Malleus are always looking for blanks to join their latest daemon hunt. As I said not a job with long term career prospects."

"Bitter?"

"We all serve in our own way. This one has its compensations." Tarik stopped abruptly as the first of the Arbites squad stepped into the transport. He settled back into his chair, closing his eyes and apparently prepared to sleep his way back to the Arbite's headquarters. Kryn watched as he slept trying to sort out her feelings. Tarik appeared to be a devoted servant of the Imperium, if a somewhat ruthless and callused one. How much of her antipathy was due to his nature, how much to his organisation? Or was her subconscious picking up on something else that made her wary.