IVANOSTRO ASTEROID FIELD

ILMNOS, IALESSA SYSTEM

NOVEMBER 14th, 2188

WHETHER the Ivanostro asteroid field had been merely the leftover debris of the Ialessa System's formation or the shattered remnants of some ancient cataclysm mattered little to the Lord Commander of the Angelus Jescha. Having shadowed the Phoenix since it had rendezvoused with the Virago, the Angelus Jescha had Jumped ahead and secreted itself to watch and wait, hidden in the magnetic noise of the vast field of slowly tumbling iron-filled stone. Remote drones with powerful scanners waited on the periphery and relayed all activity. As they waited, the Lord Commander watched and pondered. Of all the personnel on board, only he and his immediate command crew were Inquisitoria and only he wore the cloaked Black Dragon armor of one of the Lord Remnant's Inner Circle. There were other Black Dragons, of course, no more than a few at a time. Like him they too had once been Corrupted, blind and now Sighted. Not all of them from Blessed Space, yet all Blessed by the Beloved. Red Dragon commanders led the bulk of the Inquisitoria. Unlike the Reds, he could remove his fierce dragon-headed helmet as an equally-fierce mask covered his features beneath, this a grinning human skull scarred with the sigils of his rank. That way, he could keep his face to himself. Unlike them, he was not sealed forever into his armor. He could take it all off if he so chose but the fiction was maintained that he could not. For reasons known only to the Lord Remnant, only the former Corrupted had this agency.

To be a Black Dragon was to be ferociously feared and equally-ferociously venerated. Black Dragons were the most accomplished and prolific killers in all of Blessed Space. This Lord Commander had personally overseen the Rebuke against the quarians that had left them broken and demoralized. He'd absorbed the local media, found it almost amusing that here the suited vermin were almost …respected. Why the Lord Remnant had not ordered their total extermination at home he would ever wonder over. He had personally delivered the quarian agitator, the suit of which the Lord Remnant so proudly displayed. The debased cruelty of her Chastisement had not troubled him at the time.

Inquisitoria were instruments of the Beloved's Will and not people. Weapons in human form. They had no names. Yet as one of the converted Corrupted he remembered his and often found himself pondering that forbidden appellation and its associated memories. He occasionally speculated that it might have been possible that they were to blame for his –admittedly sporadic – hesitations, the rare questions his old self sometimes asked, such as the moral judgment he'd just made against the Voice of The Echo. Never mind, a man's thoughts were the only real freedom he ever had.

His SIC, the actual Captain of the ship, had been watching a video feed – an historical one – and had come as close to amusement as any Inquisitor could.

"Such oddly interesting entertainment," she commented as on the feed a woman with a PAD questioned soldiers publicly. "Seeking opinions of the rank and file."

"A populist touch," he intoned, not looking at the monitor. He was watching the tracking arrays. "Citizen soldiers seeking common ground with their former lives."

"They yet speak of the war against the Machines." She shook her head.

"To be expected. It was catastrophic. It changed everything."

"They parade their so-called heroes. It is all rather viciously …quaint, Lord." She gestured at the monitor. "Witches. Brutes. Faithless mercenaries." Her voice was as flat as all Knights but he could hear the disdain underneath the filters of her helm and he wondered how much of that disdain was directed to him. "How crude. Boorish and infantile." The SIC gestured to the tech to silence the monitor when a grizzled veteran snarled from the image and caught the Lord's attention. A slight motion from her stopped the tech as she noticed.

"Whattaya want fer nothin'?" The one-eyed mercenary barked his harsh voice at the unseen audience. "I'd say the Reapers made all of us big goddamn heroes! Now get that thing outta my face!"

The Lord Commander seemed to gaze on it a bit longer until the SIC broke his seeming reverie.

"Lord? Something?" She watched as he seemed to pause for the barest of seconds.

"Expand all tactical sweeps!" The monitor was instantly switched to sensor data. A tech reported their prey had entered the system. The Lord Commander turned to his SIC. "Report your Piercer status."

The SIC waited for all of a half-second.

"On standby, Lord. My Scarweaver Squadron is new. Training cadre trial runs are scheduled for our return to the Stagings."

"There is no experience like field experience," he told her. "Tell them to prepare for action."

The SIC turned immediately and relayed the orders. If she had misgivings she kept them to herself. Her Scarweaver squadron was meant to be Piercer class - fast-strike information retrieval specialists – information gatherers. The current squadron, her own assigned to the Angelus Jescha were fledges, having only simulated training so far. Their prey was an unknown set of variables. Why would he initiate this now and why with her squadron? His Incisor Squadron was one of the finest in All-Space. The Lord Remnant had made their mandate clear. Was he veering from the path set out? How much leeway was too much? Despite her silent opposition to it, his order was lawful.

"Mission parameters, Lord?"

"I want the crew of that ship," he said simply, pointing to the monitor that displayed a high-resolution scan of the Phoenix.

"If you wish their destruction…" She waved to the gunnery stations.

"Prisoners," he intoned with no uncertain directness. "Humans with witchery. Unfettered witches. These are qualities that we should understand. Wouldn't you agree?"

"If their eventual fate is simply oblivion, such efforts would be pointless." Prisoners were unnecessary. Sorties by other agents of the Endless were gathering all the information they needed.

"True enough," he told her with a small nod. "If. Destroy the ship if you like, but bring back living captives. You have confidence in your Scarweavers, do you not?"

"Of course, Lord."

"Then why are they not already dispatched?

His SIC jerked and immediately began issuing orders. Under his mask, the Lord Commander smiled at her discomfort. He would walk a fine line with the fanatics around him, especially trailing an ambitious SIC tuned to any evidence that his faith might waver. Yet he cared little. He would have his way and she would learn a lesson or two about blind faith and its pitfalls.

The SIC relayed the order and watched the small orb fighters scramble and depart.

No kills? Captives? She wondered silently, watching him closely, uncharacteristically wishing she could see his face. Unprecedented firsts for the Lord Commander…