Well ain't this a quick one.
Managed to get this out pretty fast, but that's because of all you lovely reviewers. Cheers for the kind words folks.
Annnnnnnnnnnd away we gooooooo-!
Lynwood was on the knife's edge of irritation. While he was as close to calm as possible, his mind couldn't shake the troubled feeling as he stalked the lengths of the Tempest's many corridors. Through both large and minor accessways, his path was indiscriminate.
Nor was his step necessarily sensical or purposeful, merely a direction he could point his feet in.
He was walking a beat. Aside from being a formerly regular way he spent his time, this was a method of bringing calm and sense to his thoughts.
He had spent many days as an Arbite among the denizens of Helios, both in and out of uniform as he would drift aimlessly around the Hive city.
Even before he had come to Helios, when he had served under Inquisitor Yizabel and the Ordo Xenos, walking alone was a good way to right one's thoughts.
Turbulent thinking was best corrected without company.
Not that anyone else would be free or willing to accompany Lynwood.
Caius was with his most recent dalliance, the Guardsman Sargent. Referring to such a relationship as secret was laughable, but Lynwood wasn't the kind of man to denigrate the bonds of his fellow men.
Even if Caius should learn to retain a measure of control over himself…
Besides Lynwood's fellow from Helios, there really wasn't anyone else to go to.
The rest of the Guard avoided Lynwood as if he were akin to a plague.
Either his constant scowl or his attitude toward the Guardsman, Jun, had earned him such a reputation.
But the others?
Well…
The source of the vexing annoyance, was Vownus Kaede. The Inquisitor was working with the Astartes Librarian. The two were conducting lessons regarding the warp, presumably in order to teach something critically important to the boy.
Lynwood wasn't sure how to address an issue when he found it with his immediate superior. What was adding to his formidable headache was that he found a fault in his superior that felt as if he, Vownus, were doing something wrong.
Lynwood had offered to accompany the Inquisitor. He had hoped to, as Caius often would say, ask the man to "cut the groxshit".
But Vownus had firmly told him to 'relax'.
The aging arbite growled at even the memory of the word. Such an order, and the attitude poised behind it, was incredibly irritating to be subjected to.
Vownus Kaede was a human unlike any he had known, either personally or through passing.
And Lynwood had known what the Inquisitor type was, what kind of person Kaede was 'supposed' to be, and how he was supposed to conduct himself.
Agent's of the Inquisition served a vital purpose.
The first and last line of defense, the mission of the Inquisition saw to the safety and security of the entire Imperium. An agent could see entire world's burnt or saved on their words alone. But when called to action, they would meet any foe. They would overcome any challenge.
And if they failed?
Even in defeat, a true agent would lay the groundwork for his successor's victory.
Every decision and action was calculated. Every order was meticulously planned in advance.
Inquisitor's were cut from a different cloth, leagues ahead of the Imperium's best and brightest.
And Vownus Kaede?
Lynwood bit back an exhausted sigh.
While Ahmazzi had been a clear example of the kind of individual an Inquisitor should be, Yizabel Vhez was the only other that Lynwood could truly claim to know on a personal level.
She had been cold, ruthless, merciless and tactile.
All attributes Lynwood failed to find in Vownus.
The man was joyus, kind, forgiving and blunt. He had indeed ordered the execution of an internal threat to the Imperium upon Agrax, but he had let a guilty member go…
Infact! Not only had he allowed the woman to live for harboring a dangerous Psyker, but he consoled her for such weakness!
Outrageous!
But Lynwood wasn't in any kind of position to argue.
Justice, even partial justice, was better than nothing.
Perhaps in small doses such an attitude and flippant conduct could be dealt with, but to be subjected to such a… such a positive person all the time…
Lynwood felt his principles rise in annoyance at this.
Hence his immediate patrol of the vessel in an attempt to 'relax'. A small part of him was irritated that he was trying to follow Vownus' 'order', but it was silenced instantly.
Just because the Lord Inquisitor was not conducting himself appropriately did not mean Lynwood would not.
He huffed aloud, his pace slowing somewhat.
Ever since the ship had been cleared of potential taint, everyone had found themselves returning to the stagnant calm found among a concluded battlefield.
'I suppose such a comparison is accurate' Lynwood considered, mentally remarking upon the damage wrecked to not just the Vessel, but the patrolling Guardsmen.
A moot attempt at an attack upon the Tempests Advance.
In the few days since the Astartes Psyker and Vownus had cleared the decks of any and all taint, the ship had made good on its approach to the Fortress world of Balor.
Only another day or two and they'd find themselves deploying to one of the planet's central Hive cities.
The damage that had been wrecked upon the Necromundan 501st would see itself mitigated with the arrival of fresh troops. Certainly this was the reason for Vownus to select Balor of all places.
An out of the way Imperial world that steadily produced essential resources for the Imperium, most predominantly their food and manpower.
The light thumps of boots on metal grew to a near clanging crescendo, a noise that got Lynwood to turn his head around.
An odd sight was upon him, razzled and unkempt. Likely because the individual had just gotten dressed.
The approaching man came within ear shot before joyfully greeting Lynwood with a friendly, "there you are you old coot"
While his step did not slow, Lynwood did keep himself facing the beaming visage of Caius.
His gruff reply of "Caius" was met with a sharp bark of laughter.
The other Inquisitorial agent comes alongside Lynwood in short order, moving at his pace in order to keep up with him.
Lynwood was able to see the grin on Caius' face out of the corner of his eye.
"Vownus tells you to take a break and this is what you do?" the man chides him.
"It is calming" Lynwood grunts in way of an actual response.
"It's boring" Caius casually corrects, shrugging a moment later "but what do they say about old habits eh?"
Lynwood turns his head sharply, giving Caius the stink eye for a few moments.
The younger man keeps his positive composure.
"Something on my face?"
Lynwood doesn't say anything for a moment, choosing to refocus on the path ahead before replying.
"You're being insufferably cheerful Caius" Lynwood frowned, "is this going to be commonplace every time you and the Sergeant fuck"
The man broke out in sputters of denial.
Lynwood turned to frown at the man, his steps ceasing a second before Caius ground to a halt.
The younger man returned to silence, his eyes wide and owlish.
"I cannot speak upon what you do in your own time" Lynwood stated, "so long as it does not come into conflict with your duties, I see no reason for you to pursue…. Companionship"
He almost missed it.
The subtle twitch of Caius' face as he remarked upon the potential of Haylay Halliday interfering with Caius' Inquisitorial tasks.
Lynwood didn't let anything out, instead deciding to keep a mental note of such a reaction. If he felt there was more behind such a minute wince, he would approach Vownus.
In the meantime, he planned to monitor the situation as best he could.
"She's not like the Helios Nobility" Caius mumbled softly, eyes downcast, "there's stuff she… stuff she understands"
Lynwood rolled his eyes, but not because he saw error in Caius' words only how poorly the younger explained his stance.
He understood what the younger man meant, even if his word's failed to eloquently describe it.
"Naturally" Lynwood nodded firmly, "She is a decorated Guardsman, and as such retains the will to fulfill associated duties. Duties that the both of you are expected to carry out alike."
"She's a bit more than just that"
"Yet you are soldiers for the same Master, requiring both of you to go above and beyond to see your duty done. The trials and tribulations, while varied, creates similarity"
Caius just blinked owlishly.
Lynwood continued a second later.
"Still, she is a far more respectable choice then the drivel you used to surround yourself with"
"...Thanks?"
Lynwood nodded sharply "Think nothing of it"
Caius' exasperated gaze was lost on the older man. Lynwood took a second to glance up and down the still empty corridor.
"Now, what did you want to speak about?"
Rearing back ever so slightly, Caius tried to defend his not so subtle intentions, "can't a friend just spend-"
"Caius"
"Fine" the ex-Arbite exhaustively admitted with a drawn out groan. There was no point keeping the pretense of a casual conversation anymore.
Taking a second to compose himself, the younger man rested his back against the metal wall of the corridor, arms crossed over his black and red lined torso.
"There are some concerns I've had, related to things that just bother me"
"Regarding?"
"...I didn't know who else to talk to. And by talk, I mean talk-"
"Caius. Regarding what?"
"Who" the younger corrected, "and it's about the boy. Lucian"
"Lucian" Lynwood repeated, his mind coming to his recent thoughts regarding the boy. A child slain by the Enemy…. And yet risen again through an act unknown to Lynwood in the slightest.
The ex-Arbite was certain that while Vownus claimed not to know the truth of Lucian's revival, the Inquisitor certainly had his suspicions.
Suspicions that were founded in information and fact… perhaps.
But the man had not shared everything with the newly acquired agents.
In fact, Lynwood was beginning to suspect something far more grand at play here. Beside his initial assumptions that the boy was being trained in order to eventually replace Vownus when the man met his inevitable end, Lynwood pondered on if that was only where the man's priorities lay.
Lynwood hadn't investigated anything thoroughly, merely harbored his suspicions and kept them to himself.
Perhaps Caius was now coming to similar conclusions?
"The boy who lived," Lynwood muttered, "what draws your concern? His demeanor? For one so dangerous, he wears the face of an innocent with ease"
Caius seemed floored by the words.
Lynwood had flayed his complaint bare in a single sentence.
"How did you…" Caius' mouth failed to produce a full sentence, merely tapering off to a slack jaw with wide eyes.
"It is a simple fear to hold Caius," Lynwood explained, "and many do fear the boy. I also that suppose many more will follow, be they enemy or ally"
"Yet you do not?" Caius accused, a slight touch of wroth finding itself in his quietly controlled tone "you. Who has stood by nearly every event the boy has been involved with. You do not fear him?"
Lynwood snorted.
"Fear. Merely a mortal reminder that a greater foe exists in all corners of this grim universe. Fear exists to remind you that there are far stronger, and far more dangerous beings among the stars Caius" Lynwood's face relaxed slightly.
"There was a time where I would have executed the boy myself. I would have been… fearful, of the danger inherent in his mere potential, and dealt with the issue as quickly as possible"
"I'm sensing a but" Caius mumbled.
"However" Lynwood noted, "I am not blind to the needs of the Imperium. Every moment of every day, our enemies seek our destruction. Every day our Imperium calls upon men and women of all creeds, banners and disciplines to do their part in maintaining the strength of our Imperium. Be they worker, farmer or warrior, ab-human, Psyker or half-breed, we all serve the same goal"
Lynwood sighed slowly and softly.
"Psykers are beyond both mine and your understanding, even if we were to dedicate our entire lives to such an effort I suspect it would be an exercise in futility"
Lynwood tapped the Inquisitorial seal on the breastplate of his armor, and more importantly the Acquilla interwoven with the design, his eyes locked with Caius in a tense moment.
"We all do our part. One day, Lucian will as well. Vownus will see to it that the boy become as any Psyker blessed with such innate talent would-"
It was a whisper that slipped from Caius' lips. A quiet denial delivered under the breath of a man far too terrified to let his thoughts become tangible, to speak as he so wished to.
"But he's not any Psyker, Lynwood"
The older of the two was taken aback by the admission. However he did not ask further, merely offering the following silence toward Caius, allowing the younger to speak as he so wished.
In the relative peace of solitude of this empty walkway, Caius still carefully glanced in both directions of the long steel gray corridor before speaking.
He needed to affirm that they were alone.
That only the two of them would hear his uttered fears.
"I've been reading about Psykers. I've studied what has been described and explained from tomes and books within Vownus' own collection about the nature of Psykers. From classifications to their specific disciplines, what Lucian has done…"
Caius seemed to relax the further he spoke, Lynwood's now stoney silence rebuffing the words with seemingly no reaction whatsoever.
"Some Psykers can divine paths leading to a more prosperous future, others can kill an entire hive with the wave of their hand. Some can stop bullets, topple Titans, read minds, teleport…. It is an extensive list" his tone deepened, the severity of his words building up with each point struck. As if this was some sort of condemnation.
"But nothing… Nobody returns, Lynwood. No mortal does"
A fervor had appeared, a tone of zealotry Lynwood found to be at odds with the usual cadence of his friend.
"Caius…" he warned, but the man could not hear him.
He was finally venting what his mind had come up with.
"I fear him because he has done what only one being could ever claim to do"
Lynwood tensed, "Caius. Don't"
"Do not be ignorant, Lynwood! There is only One Psyker as powerful as that, only one who could do as Lucian has" Caius' eyes were narrowed as he hissed his understanding to the elder Arbite, "and He sits upon the Golden Throne of Terra"
In the silence that blossomed between them, the tension was deafening.
Neither moved, nor turned their gaze from one another.
Lynwood had straightened to his full height, an imperious gaze settling on the younger. But Caius did not back down. He had admitted what he saw, coming as truthfully as he had intended toward Lynwood.
This was all said in good faith, something the Elder took into account as he finally found his words.
"What you say is Blasphemous"
"It is the-!"
But Lynwood would not let him speak further. A strong step forward and a fist implanted on Caius' chestplate told the younger man far more than what needed to be said.
It was not a strike, merely a reminder of who the man was before Caius.
A dutiful soldier.
"Such talk would have you killed" Lynwood snarled in quiet ferocity, "to utter such an idea is to tear at the fabric of our Imperium"
"You didn't see him on Agrax" Caius bit back, his posture relaxed as Lynwood's fist rested over his Armor's insignia, "you did not hear him speak. You still have not seen the light in his eyes Lynwood…"
For a second, the elder arbite was too stunned to speak by the sheer humbling and demure tone coming from the normally rambunctious Caius.
He found his spine an instant later.
"Enough. Speak of this again and I'll shoot you myself" Lynwood snapped.
Silence blossomed between them again. However the tense atmosphere was seeping away into the quiet.
Eventually the younger broke the stillness between them.
"... I did not expect a pass from anyone. Let alone you" Caius summarized, his words a statement, yet still asking a question to his friend.
'Why?'
Lynwood retracted from him.
Why indeed?
Lynwood felt his tongue weigh heavy in his mouth. Caius had been so brazenly open with him, and yet he still considered not treating him in kind? Did all that time spent by one another's side count for nothing? Did their comradery begin and end upon a battlefield, but did not exist in the quiet and peace between war?
No.
Caius deserved the truth. Not an excuse.
"Because… You are still my friend, Caius Helix. And though you may be young and foolish you still have much to learn" Lynwood brought his temper down, "but you will not mention these thoughts to anyone, let alone the Inquisitor"
Caius merely nodded in mute acceptance.
Lynwood huffed, returning to his walk a moment afterward.
After a few meters in silence, a quieter step joined his side.
In silence they patrolled the ship together. It was catharsis, yet also reminiscent of their days together spent on Helios.
For a short while, things felt normal for the two.
"Caius"
Lynwood's head was still facing forward in the direction they marched, but he was able to observe the younger man's gaze turning to him.
"I have lived a long life. I have served the Emperor and His Imperium for many years" his tone was tired.
Exhausted.
"I say this with the wisdom of my years, and the experience cultivated across a lifetime. Do not waste your life so carelessly, purising what you believe to be true. Only time will prove your truth"
Caius said nothing, yet listened to everything. He did not miss a word.
"Thus, I order you now" Lynwood turned his head to meet his friend's stare, "You are not allowed to die before I do"
Caius was solemn for a moment. He nodded.
But then he grinned.
"Sounds a bit tough. An old man like you could croak any minute now"
"I will strike you"
"Careful. Wouldn't want you pulling a muscle"
Caius failed to dodge the sharp jab sent his way, but still managed to chortle through the pain.
"Of all the world's…."
Most Imperial vessels had a raised platform where the Captain of the vessel sat. This emplacement would overlook the screen and monitors attended by the rest of the ship's seniority.
A normal arrangement.
If you were a normal and standard Imperial vessel that is.
While there were screens attended by beings, each responsible for critical aspects of the large Battle Barge, there was no imposing dias of a platform from which the commander overlooked their subordinates.
"And we're just supposed to wait? Here?" a gruff voice grumbled, the same audacious one that had been muttering to itself only a moment prior.
In place of the regular command chair of an Imperial vessel was a large table encircled by 13 seats. The table and the chairs that ringed it were not designed for mortal men.
Nay, it was built for the master of this ship and his Wolf Guard, a place of council and decision making.
And the Lord of the Ship could always count on his brothers to advise him upon matters with which his mind remained clouded.
Especially if they played a hand in plying him with more celebratory drinks then necessary.
Of the 13 seats at this table, 12 were occupied.
Each armored Astartes, decorated and imposing, similar yet distinct in their characteristics, looking toward one another in open discussion.
This particular discussion was centered upon the Axe of Russ' and its presence above a seemingly unimportant Imperial world. A world that the leading Rune priest aboard the vessel had determined to be of vast importance.
"Perhaps the old coot Ivur had a bit too much Mjod my Lord"
The Wolf Lord in question, Kjarl Grimblood of the Fire Wolf Company, snorted in open jest at the comment that came from across the table.
Others at the table saw humor in it, but did not comment as they knew their lord would.
"Brother Ivur sees with a different sight, Joran" the Wolf Lord smiled, bearing his fangs ever so slightly "His visions have yet to lead us astray"
Kjarl Grimblood was young for a Wolf Lord. His long and proud mane of hair conjoined with an equally large and grand beard, a characteristic that was quite common among the Sons of Russ.
His armor was detailed and large, an ornate Wolf's head perched on his left shoulder, while his right was emblazoned with the Fire Breathing wolf. The sigil of his company. All those at the table had the symbol on their armor somewhere, each deferring to personal preference for how they displayed their personal allegiance.
The decorated insignias and prayer markers that denoted his substantial service and rank were secondary to the impressive pelt that hung from his shoulders.
A fine kill, one that marked his ascension into a fully blooded Space Wolf. The skin was tattered and matted, but its symbol mattered far more than its elegance.
"True enough my Lord '' the titled Joran replied back with a hearty smile.
Joran was an artist with a chainsword. Far more lithe than his brothers, his style of combat contemplated his armor's simplistic decoration "but even I find myself, Russ forbid I ever say these words again, agreeing with Hammersbald"
The decorated swordsman's decree was met with a blustering defense.
"You speak as if I'm slow of the mind brother!" the largest Wolf Guard at the table mockingly retorted.
Otalig Hammersbald.
Known for his use of a two handed Power Hammer and an impressive track record of dangerous enemies slain to go along with it.
Of all the wolves seated among the table, Otalig was not only differing from his immense size, but that his head was adorned only by a long beard tied into a singular knot. His joyous grin warped his serious face to show the humor he found among his brethren, yet was never too afraid to belittle those that took their time.
After all, he was known to be an impatient man.
Hammersbald was the one who expressed the initial sentiment of irritation at their Company's current posting.
To hover above the world of Balor, waiting for something to happen.
Something that was supposedly crucially important to not just their Chapter, but to the Imperium at large.
This didn't mean Hammersbald, or his brothers, liked to wait.
"I cannot disagree with such a comment" a Wolf Guard with hair as black as night growled with a savage grin. The fastest of foot and reaction, Tyrur Thunderback was discernible due to his shaggy mane of unkempt wild hair.
He was the most wolflike among his fellow Wolf Guard, his fangs and prowling presence a reminder of their Primarch's distinctive traits. His armor was heavily layered with furs, a testament to his skill as a swift hunter.
"Whelp!" Hammersbald growled at the barbed insult, "do not treat your betters with such disrespect!"
"Your brain rots with age Brother" Tyrur's savage smile remained, "your lucky that once your mind is gone you can still use that thick skull of yours as a weapon"
Even as Hammersbald spat obscenities at Thunderback, another voice chimed in.
This one was filled with far more reason and cold calculation than the others.
"Ivur has seen nothing of late my Lord. It is perhaps possible that his visions have been… meddled with"
Silence took the table as each member cast their gaze to the speaker.
Arms crossed over his chest, Eiran the Grim had only eyes for his Lord from across the table.
Kjarl respected the stalwart attitude of his eldest Wolf Guard.
Eiran's white hair flowed gracefully across his sparsely decorated armor, his face a cool collection of contemplation as he met eyes with Kjarl. While he bore the sigil of their Company proudly at the center of his chest, the only other decoration to his armor were sigils based upon his pauldrons.
Visually the warrior was undoubtedly a son of the wolf, however he served as a more clear minded tactician than any glory hungry warrior under Kjarl's command.
His cold steel tempered his brother's burning iron, a gaze as frigid as a Fenris winter being his most common choice of discipline.
The table had returned to silence, the gravity of such words taking place over their eternal bickering.
Kjarl tapped his fingers in a rhythmic beat across the table.
"What you suggest is dangerous"
"Yet possible" Eiran returned, ever the pragmatist.
"Aye" Kjarl affirmed, his face tight with consideration "I do not disagree with you brother, merely note upon the unlikeliness of such a possibility"
Eiran nodded but said nothing more.
He had brought a concern forward to his Lord. The decision of what to do about such a concern was left to the Grimblood. Any order Eiran would follow to the letter.
"My Lord"
The closest to his right, Kurgskald, addressed Kjarl almost privately.
A quieter brother, one that found his brash and daring moments only upon a battlefield, Kurgskald was originally a master of all arms.
Upon his induction into the Wolf Guard, he was rarely seen in or out of combat without his flamer or heavy bolter.
Only a meeting such as the one he currently participated in kept the well groomed brunette Space Wolf separated from his weaponry.
"Speak Brother" Kjarl ordered, knowing the warrior would keep his tongue unless permitted to.
"After multiple searches across the surface, perhaps it is not the planet itself that holds such importance, merely what will arrive upon it?"
Kjarl nodded slowly, thinking to himself.
Another two agreed with the sentiment however, and they were willing to sound it.
"I second this opinion" the tallest of their number declared from Kjarl's right, as well as the next Wolf Guard nodding in agreement.
Valtaf Everfeld and Rathvind Snowhelm. The Spear and Axe of the Fire Wolf Company. Rathvind was a stout yet powerful Space Wolf, his scarred visage denoting every vicious battle he had taken in. His clean shaven features was merely the method he utilized in order to display his brutalized face.
Scars were an honor for the man, each mark denoting an enemy that had almost slain him, yet still failed to do so. Each that tried always fell to his axe.
But Rathvind was not the one who spoke.
The tallest of their number, Valtaf had been the one to openly voice his support of Kurgskald's idea. Known for his use of a spear, Valtaf formed an odd partnership with Rathvind, the two of them vastly different from one another, yet almost always in support of the other.
Many a battle had Kjarl seen the taller, far more decorative and ornate warrior, cutting a bloody swathe through their foe. And the Snowhelm would not be far behind, lest the smaller of the two be caught missing from the glorious onslaught of his Brother.
Valtaf had white hair, but not from age. His natural colors were linked back to the Fenris clan he had been selected from. His many braids and hair decorations being a tradition from his people.
"And why do you concur, Brother Valtaf, Brother Rathvind?" the Wolf Lord asked his guard. He was in no way disrespecting Kurgskald's suggestion, merely wanting to understand the other's own reasons for support.
Rathvind spoke first, his throat raspy and his tone guttural. Hammersbald often joked how Rathvind and Tyrur were born from the same mother, a vicious she-wolf.
"Our journey here was beset by trouble and delay, my Lord. As we have seen for ourselves the planet is sparse and simple. Even the Rune Priest failed to find any taint or presence of the Archenemy…"
The Guard stiffened, slowing his speech and frowning as his ear twitched ever so slightly.
The keen eyes of everyone at the table picked up on the movement. He need not explain his sudden lack of focus.
Valtaf picked up the words of reasoning as Rathvind seemingly brooded for a moment or two. He was receiving a vox communication of some importance.
"The warp is a treacherous place. But our arrival to this world was significantly slowed. An intentional attempt by the enemy in my opinion. And since we have scoured the surface with patient scrutiny-"
"Waste of time" Hammersbald grunted quietly, shutting up the instant Valtaf fixed him with a vicious look.
The Wolf Lord's Spear only halted in his speech momentarily.
"- I believe this planet to be merely the location of which this great event will take place"
Kjarl nodded to Valtaf, his eyes turning to Rathvind as the smaller guard fixed his Lord with a look.
"My Lord, the Star-speakers have detected something, but are unsure of what to make of it"
The entire table waited with bated breath.
Kjarl knew what his orders would be the moment he processed the words.
"Summon Iver. Fetch him if you must Brother. Have him discern what our Star-speakers cannot"
The Wolf Guard stood at once, "of course my Lord" and departed a second later.
Kjarl returned his focus to the table, and to those who had not spoken yet.
"And what say you?" Kjarl fixed his gaze across the stern, calm, frosty and bored gazes of his last four Wolf Guard. The four who had not spoken yet.
The one who seemed nearly asleep from boredom, his cheek resting on a propped up fist as his eyes were just barely open, was the first to reply.
"Hate waiting" he sleepily admitted, sitting up a bit straighter as his black dreadlocks cascaded around his lightly bearded face.
"Svessl" Kjarl named the Guard with an exasperated voice, "it is as if we wait for a Siege to begin, you must be patient"
Tyrur chuckled ruthfully, "a Siege means the enemy is at our doorstep My Lord. I have yet to see an enemy"
"Mind your tone Thunderback" the sharp admonishment had not come from Eiran, but from another of the unnamed remaining three.
Torrid.
Armored in a slighter tone of silver and deeper blue, the distinguishing hood made from a Wolf's Head outlining him as a Rune Priest, the Wolf Guard held eyes with Tyrur.
Ivur Sverdsyn was the head of the small Conclave aboard the Axe of Russ, but while the de facto head of the small contingent of Rune Priest's, Torrid was the more experienced.
The black raven which perched upon his massive shoulder, part cybernetic in nature, fixed Tyrur with its blank stare.
But the Thunderback held the gaze, his own lip beginning to curl in a snarl. Tyrur was no fan of sorcery or magic, as were many Space Wolves. They had a history of bad blood involved with Psykers.
"Brother's please"
Kjarl was glad he did not need to step in between the two.
Tyrur backed down as Torrid looked away with a huff of indignation.
Ulvarr Kulror, third to join the Grimblood's Guard, ever the peacemaker. He possessed a long face, a sharp chin hidden by a blond beard, and kind eyes of deep sapphire.
Many referred to the well mannered warrior as the 'Peacemaker', always attempting to keep the bouts and tempers of his Brother's from flaring too brightly.
Situation diffused, Ulvarr focused on Kjarl.
"My Lord. I agree with the possibilities of what everyone present has stated. And while I share the annoyance of such a long wait… we shall do as we must. There is no need to rush ignorantly into our next Great Hunt"
Many murmured their agreement at this.
Hammersbald nodded his approval, even if he was of the mindset to not dawdle around such a dull world.
Before the Grimblood could reply, the harsh tone of the last participant of the table cut across.
"Lest we forget the last time we chased rumor and mysticism with reckless abandon"
His words were a cruel spear of ice, intended to wound every member at the table in reminder of what they had lost. These were not the first interpretations and visions of Ivur that the Company of the Fire Wolf had followed.
Merely the one with the most unexpected calm attached to it.
It had only been a decade since they had departed their previous location of searching.
And that was where they had gained an empty seat at the table.
A slain brother.
Beside this empty seat was the speaker, his clean shaven head and face baring his irritation and frothing rage ever so clearly.
His name was Skorn Myrksyn, the fiercest of Kjarl's Wolf Guard. By no means truly and completely feral, but simply brutal and cruel mixed with a heart of ice.
Of all those seated at the table, he had been closest with the empty seat and the warrior which had occupied it.
"We do not forget, Skorn" Eiran stated calmly, "we all bear Oggar's loss"
The bald wolf, Skorn, said nothing to this.
Kjarl felt pity for his brother. The wound was still fresh. Anger and rage stitched together the gaping hole of sorrow that Skorn felt.
And Kjarl knew the warrior did feel it.
Oggar had been a close confidant and friend of Skorn. They had gone through their Trials of Initiation together. They had been a part of the same blood claw, pack brothers from the first day they had met.
Skorn blamed himself for his Brother's death.
Decapitated by a Champion of Chaos for all to see, his body hoisted in the air by his killer… Oggar had died in combat, as many Space Wolves had.
And yet it was not Skorn who had managed to defeat such a foe, the slayer of his friend.
Kjarl did not wish to reminisce upon such a battle.
He blamed himself for being so sure of his own interpretation of Ivur's words. Proof of his failure was seen in not only the damage done to his company, but their present position above a different world.
Such failures were shameful.
"Brother, I would not-"
Hurried footfalls of Ceramite drew everyone's attention, the presence of Rathvind rejoining their number.
"My Lord" the Snowhelm bowed ever so slightly, "the Star-speakers do not know what to make of this, however-" he approached a far off display on the bridge, taking control of the feature after aggressively pushing the Thrall attending to it away "-a vessel is approaching Balor"
The Wolf Lord did not comment on the action Rathvind had taken against one of their mortal servants, understanding the importance of the information he was being presented.
Their Star-speakers, the Astropaths onboard the Axe of Russ, detect something strange they are unable to make any sense of and then a ship appears.
Kjarl did not get this far in his career to believe such moments were founded in mere coincidence.
"A Vessel?" Kjarl stood to his full height, coming over to his Guard in a moment.
"Aye" Rathvind brought up the stellar map, narrowing in on where the lone ship was, "Imperial, all alone out here"
Odd.
It was a smaller ship, far tinier than the Axe of Russ, more compact and-
Then, as if the lone Vessel realized it was being scanned by the larger war ship, its sigil of identification was projected before them.
A threat, warning, and command in one.
The large and imposing red letter of the one organization the Space Wolves openly despised.
"The Inquisition" Kjarl growled.
This sentiment of anger was shared by each member seated at the table.
Lucian knew that the Tempest's Advance had a lot of people onboard. But to see the hangar of the ship in full swing, the large formations of Guardsmen moving towards the Valkyries lowered from the ceiling, Lieutenants barking orders at their Sergeants…
It was a grand thing to stand at the eye of a storm, watching as the organized chaos erupted around him.
While not as impressive of a sight as the ship lanes of Agrax, Lucian was awed by the human factor of the display of martial power.
Standing beside Librarian Aethod, the young Psyker in training felt like a bystander to it all.
An odd feeling, considering Vownus had explained to him that he would be coming to the surface of Balor along with the 501st.
Beside his regular training with Caius and Lynwood, Lucian was newly subjected to the careful moments of meditation with Aethod. The Librarian saw to it that the boy knew how to center his emotions and feelings before ever trying to commune with the powers of the Immatierum.
Such a morning had been devoid of training, the Librarian merely assigned to accompany the boy to the surface.
Vownus had seemed far more cagey than calm, but whatever had put the man at odds was alright in Lucian's book.
Considering all that had happened, the youth had expected his Inquisitorial Master to finally begin doing some kind of training with him.
Instead, he had been practically handed off to the slow and laborious teachings of the Astartes Librarian.
Vownus Kaede was seemingly a lazy bastard.
Lucian was glad something was now irritating the man, regardless of what it could potentially be.
"Are you troubled?"
The smoother timber of Aethod's voice caught Lucian's attention.
"No my Lord" he felt like smiling as he took in the commotion once more, thoughts of Vownus leaving his mind, "excited it all"
"Excited?" the Librarian questioned, his tone not necessarily inflected with emotion, but not without a layer of curiosity.
"Well… Agrax was… a short experience. I didn't really get to see much of it. I did not walk its streets or breath its air"
Aethod frowned, "you could not. The fumes produced by the Manufactorums would damage your lungs and bare eyes irreparably"
Lucian wanted to sigh.
"I didn't know the planet I set foot upon my Lord" he settled on saying, looking up at the still slightly curious Aethod "it was merely a passing experience"
"I see," the Librarian nodded, not entirely convincing Lucian that he understood what the boy meant.
So the boy continued.
Even over the raucous and blaring noise of the hanger, they managed to have their conversation in relative peace.
"Vownus said we're gonna be on Balor for a long time. Hopefully that's enough time to actually understand it"
Aethod nodded, but did not reply.
This time Lucian did sigh.
Yes, Space Marines were the Emperor's Champions, the chosen warriors of the Imperium to be held to the greatest standard… but sometimes being a warrior wasn't the only important thing.
Holding a good conversation was something Lucian was beginning to appreciate over all the damn teaching he was being subjected to.
"My Lord Librarian"
Luican was turning about to face the arrival of Caius and Lynwood, even as Aethod was addressing the older mortal that had called out to him.
"Agent Decelus" the Librarian turned his head to the other, "Agent Helix. What news do you bring?"
"We are to accompany Lucian for the time being" Caius answered, gesturing behind him and the path away from the starboard Hanger, "Vownus-"
"Inquisitor Kaede" Lynwood eyed his compatriot with a contemptuous look.
Caius smiled weakly, "Inquisitor Kaede requires you for a… task"
"A task" Aethod repeated lamley. The demand for elaboration was plain for both. Lynwood remained stone faced while Caius offered what little else he knew.
"We do not know my Lord. Vow- Inquisitor Kaede has summoned the rest of the Knights to him. I suppose he will explain whatever it is once you arrive"
Aethod reached out with the Immaterium, his sudden use of power startling the boy that still stood at his side.
"Vownus?" he projected across the ship.
The response came a few seconds later.
"Aethod. We might be in a spot of trouble. Gonna need a little support on this one."
The librarian felt some tangible concern atop the words, knowing that his fellow Psyker was omitting simple details for the sake of his over dramatic tendencies.
"And by we, you mean yourself" Aethod attempted to reply with a heavily layered tone of exasperation, but the best he could project was light irritation.
"Semantics" was the airy reply, the Librarian able to see Vownus' childish grin and wave of dismissal in response to such an accusation, "please don't keep us waiting for too long"
"Of course" Aethod grunted as he withdrew from the Immaterium.
"I leave the boy in your hands," he sourly admitted to the two Helios Agents, stepping away from Lucian's side without any hesitation.
As he marched away, Lucian, Caius and Lynwood were treated to the humorous sight of any and all individuals hastily avoiding the behemoth of a man as he cut an uncaring path out of the hanger.
Vownus remained in contemplative silence as two of the Astral Knights openly discussed with one another.
Standing around the small table of the tactical briefing room, the Inquisitor found it both calming and discerning to see his Space Marine companions were just as unsure as he was.
Tiberec, in a rare moment without his helm upon his head, traded coarse words with his battle brother, Rhamine.
"I'm not saying they're untrustworthy, just wildly unpredictable"
The armored Rhamine pressed back against his brother's assertion.
"Wildly unpredictable, yes. But please do not say you are blind to their hatred of the Inquisition"
"And what has Vownus done to earn such ire? They wouldn't dare attack, even if we ignore this 'summons'" Tiberec scoffed.
"He has earned their animosity for merely being a member of the Inquisition Brother" the calmer voice of the Astral Knight Captain, Germael, cut between the two.
"Nothing more, nothing less" the leader of the Knights finished simply.
Vownus had called the Astral Knights to him as soon as he had received word from Captain Olivina that a Battle Barge stationed above Balor made contact with the Tempest.
Upon noting the name of the Vessel that sent them a Vox Message, Vownus already knew the contents were to be decidedly unfriendly.
After all, a vessel called the Axe of Russ could belong to only one faction.
The Space Wolves.
Vlka Fenryka, the Wolves of Fenris… the sons of Leman Russ, a loyalist chapter that saw a complete ignorance of the Codex Astartes. Known primarily for their beastly and barbarian ways, Vownus knew very well of the truth. The Chapter of Astartes was less well known for its free spirit and relaxed organization.
Many believed the Space Wolves to be simple minded savages, but the truth was that they adhered to a distinct distaste of authoritarian values.
And unfortunately, the concept of supreme authority and the Inquisition go hand in hand.
There were entire worlds of bad blood between the Inquisition and the Space Wolves, enough that every Inquisition decidedly avoided the Chapter whenever they could.
To have them stationed above Balor, an entire Company of them…
Vownus had sighed when he finished the message.
++ Inquisitor. The Wolf Lord would speak with you. Face to face. ++
The words felt incredibly threatening.
As they were probably intended.
Vownus knew he'd have to respond eventually, but had deferred to the Astral Knights before he decided on a course of action.
Out of all those onboard the Tempests Advance, they were most equipped to understand their 'cousins'.
Perhaps it would be best to just ignore-
"They will shoot us out of the sky, should we fail to answer them and attempt to land"
The Inquisitor winced at Dominius' calm words. The usually silent Knight had been chatty then usual once the discussion had started. Vownus supposed the Specialist knew of the potential severity of the situation.
"They might" Vownus attempted to half-heartedly joke with a shrug.
The helmeted heads of Rhamine, Raduriel and Dominus turned to face him, as Germael and Tiberec stared at him in subtle disbelief of his ignorant statement.
It seemed they agreed that ignoring the Space Wolves was not a 'good' idea.
"A jest" Vownus admitted weakly as the door to the chamber opened to admit Aethod into the room.
While he had sensed the Librarian's imminent arrival, Vownus hadn't bothered to comment as such, lest Aethod dig into him for his poor humor.
Aethod reads the mood of the room in a few moments, but still has the tact to be brought calmly into the discussion, rather than butting in abruptly.
"What seems to be the issue?" he calmly asks, his eyes finding each individual for a moment or two before moving to the next.
The Inquisitor answers this question by bringing forth a projection of the space above Balor.
More importantly, the Space Wolf Battle Barge.
Aethod takes a moment of silence to come to terms with the ship's designation, before instantly understanding where the issue lay.
"I assume they have contacted us"
Vownus displayed their message.
Aethod read it once, and then twice, nodding to himself after a moment, "how brazen of them"
"Quite" Germael agreed with some painfully dry humor decorating his affirmation.
Aethod ignored his Captain's agreement in favor of fixing Vownus with an expression one might confuse to be concerned.
But even as the Inquisitor noted the frosty tension between Librarian and Captain, he knew the look he was given to be of consideration, rather than trivial worry.
"To go alone could invite some hostility, even violence" Aethod said simply.
"An easy target," Vownus nodded in agreement, "I have thought as much"
If the Space Wolves were not in favor of the Inquisitor's presence… well, stranger, and far more bloody bouts had erupted between the Sons of Russ and the Inquisition.
"We should accompany you, Vownus" Aethod stated.
"A presence of strength also could incite violence" was Raduriel's calm note.
The conversation lulled into silence.
Vownus wanted to sigh.
Instead he mumbled to himself, "doomed if you do. Doomed if you don't"
Germael eventually spoke up.
"We shall accompany our Ally, regardless of how the Wolves feel of this" the Captain stated with definite clarity.
"Though they hold animosity toward the Inquisition, Vownus is not their enemy. We know this, and shall see this understanding delivered"
The words were delivered with pride and power, a tone of voice Vownus had only ever seen the Captain deliver in combat situations. But considering this meeting could devolve into a brawl or worse… it felt appropriate.
"Thank you Captain" Vownus nodded, "your support is appreciated"
Germael nodded at the Inquisitor, but said no further.
Vownus swept his hat from his head, brushing his hair back in an effort to calm his slightly jittery nerves.
"I suppose we shouldn't keep the grouchy wolves waiting?"
The witch hunter's hat found itself upon his head once more.
The troop transports were departing the Tempests Advance in waves. Each ship took with it wave after wave of Guardsmen, a seemingly unending tide of lives.
Lucian stood off to the side of the hanger, accompanied by Lynwood and Caius as they watched the main force that occupied the Tempest departed with rigid and trained movements.
"When will we depart?" Luican asked, his gaze filtering over to the void shields of the now open hanger.
Beyond the endless black of Space, the blanket of stars that lay across the infinite cosmos of the universe, the youth could see some of Balor.
It looked green in some places, mountainous in others.
Slivers and cuts of deep blue ran across its land, revealing large rivers the size of oceans.
The blackened centric circles were barely visible from orbit.
Balor had hive cities, but they were far smaller in comparison to what denoted the surface of Agrax.
Still larger than the hives of Helios.
It was a different world after all.
Excitement vibrated under Lucian's skin.
It had felt as if he had been stuck aboard the Tempest for years, rather than weeks. To set his feet upon solid earth, to breathe the air of a world teeming with life…
"I suspect when Vownus returns" Lynwood muttered back, his gaze still fixed on the leaving guard.
"And when will he?"
Lucian didn't miss how Caius and Lynwood shared a blank look with one another.
"We don't know," Caius said, before turning to look at Lucian, "he's dealing with some particularly troublesome individuals. Well, or so he said"
Lucian just nodded. If they really didn't know he wouldn't keep pushing them for more and more details. Even though they were Vownus' agents, Lucian understood that they were as newly acquired as he was.
And, Vownus was an Inquisitor. He didn't necessarily have to tell anyone anything, not if he didn't want to.
He only did so on a whim. Perhaps explaining things was to put others at ease or calm them, but if Vownus Kaede ordered something, he rarely needed to explain himself.
Lucian huffed in slight annoyance as yet another wave of transports lifted off.\
As the roar of the engines filled the hangar, he looked out to Balor's surface. It was a tantalizing image, a deep part of him yearning to simply walk to it, to travel through space and land upon its ground.
Lucian had never imagined he'd develop such tastes or interests, but how could one not? Presented with the reality of a very large Universe, a submerged yet primal part of him desired to see as much as he could.
To travel to every corner…
But how to speed up this tedious process?
He thought back to what Lynwood had said.
"Suspect"
"I beg your pardon?" Caius replied, the wave of VTOL ships departing the hanger deafening Lucian's words.
"Suspect" Lucian repeated as the next sets of ships opened their bay doors to accept the next wave of Guardsmen squads, "Lynwood said he 'Suspects' we shall leave when Vownus returns"
Lucian turned on the man, whose eyebrow was raised in confusion.
"I did" he nodded, "and what of it boy?"
"What exactly were Vownus' orders?" the boy innocently asked.
"To accompany you until his return from the Axe of Russ"
Deciding to not break his pointed momentum by asking what exactly 'The Axe of Russ' was, Lucian focused on the initial piece of Lynwood's answer.
"So he said to accompany me. But he didn't actually order us to stay aboard"
Lynwood fixed an intense gaze on the boy, before slowly answering "no, Vownus did not"
An impish smile crossed Lucian's features, "then I suggest we get in line" he pointed at the waves of Guardsmen, "and join them on the surface. We can wait there," the boy turned again to face Lynwood, "can't we?"
The older man did not grumble, but he did not answer in the affirmative. Lynwood cloaked himself in silence, taking a calm moment to obviously think something through.
"Oh come on"
Lucian turned to the smiling face of Caius, who was looking at Lynwood with a beaming grin, "it's not like we'll get in any trouble. We'll still be with the 501st, and at least we'll be free of all this accursed gray"
The elder remained silent still.
Lucian tried his hand, "please Lynwood. I promise I'll behave, I won't cause any problems or-"
A gloved hand gestured to him to be silent.
Lynwood inhaled, exhaled, and brought his wrist to his face, activating his Vox line.
"Communications, this is Agent Decelus. Patch me through to the Colonel"
Caius and Lucian waited with baited breath and tense excitement.
Lynwood waited a moment.
"Colonel Wilk, this is Agent Lynwood Decelus. I request that myself and two others be included in your forces deployment to Balor"
Lucian let out a cheer as Caius' smile grew. Both sobered immediately as Lynwood fixed them with a vicious glare, the younger of the two muttering an apology as he stared at his feet.
"Thank you Colonel. The Emperor protects"
Lynwood lowered his hand.
Lucian felt excitement bubbling up within him, a smile he was incapable of restraining finding itself onto his face.
"Come" Lynwood gestured towards the large waves of assembled Guards, "we have a ride to catch"
It took all of Lucian's will power to keep in his shout of joy.
Caius seemed to be of a similar mindset, if not more poised in his restraint.
One of the Space Wolves' many mortal servants, a Thrall if Vownus remembered the title correctly, had met them within the Battle Barge's gigantic hanger.
The Inquisitor did not fail to note the unsubtle glance that the Thrall sent towards the hooded Aethod. Nor the subtle yet quiet words spoken into a cufflink vox caster.
The sons of Russ had been known far and wide to despise those of the Psyker disposition. Sorcery and Warp Magik had been the bane of their existence during the Heresy. And any Inquisitor worth their salt knew of what had happened between the Wolves and the Thousand Sons.
Prospero had burned a wound on both of the fighters, the deaths of many upon its surface scarring the once great Chapters.
Thoughts of the betrayal of the Cyclops and his sons left Vownus' mind as a cadre of Wolves, a pack, approached their entourage.
The Thrall that had been leading them instantly departed at the sight of these newcomers.
Many of the feral looking Space Marines were in and around the hangar, mostly those that looked to be akin to Techmarines.
Vownus knew they had a different name among the Space Wolves, but could not remember it as of this moment. The group which approached the Inquisitor and his fellows was most certainly not like the others of the Hanger.
The six behemoths wore what Vownus would only assume to be Terminator armor, but the distinctness of each of them drew more of his attention than their slightly varying sizes. A Space Wolf was known for their individual agency, but the blatant and openly discernable differences between each of these wolfen warriors pushed Vownus' mind to a specific title.
Wolf Guard.
They were not regular Terminator's.
These were the soldiers tasked with running this company, as well as protecting their Lord.
Once they were in earshot, Vownus decided to speak first, getting his intentions across as blatantly as possible.
"You summoned me?"
No complaints of their attitude, no throwing around of his authority or ego, just a simple and to the point question.
Somehow, it still seemed to offend the Wolves, some of them openly sneering at Vownus.
"Inquisitor" the largest of them grunted, his mouth pulled back slightly in distaste, "you will follow us"
Vownus nodded, his eyes uncontrollably fixed upon the giant's teeth.
The long fangs sent an invisible shiver down his spine.
As Vownus and the Knights stepped forward, the giant growled.
"Only the Inquisitor"
Ah.
Here we go.
Before the Witch Hunter could get a word in edgewise, Germael's calm tone came from behind his shoulder.
"And what is so private a matter that only the Wolves and the Inquisition must discuss?"
The giant turned its attention to the outspoken Space Marine.
"That is none of your concern"
"We are allied with this Inquisitor" Germael took a solemn step forward, "thus it is our concern, Wolf"
As everyone tensed at the comment, Vownus couldn't help but roll his eyes internally.
'Way to go Germael'
The giant snarled.
"You, who wears the sigil of a dead Chapter, have no right to lecture me"
'Oh boy'
Vownus desperately wanted to get out of the way between the slowly brewing animosity between the two factions.
Germael's furious response was swift.
"So long as one of our number draws breath, the Astral Knights remain. And here we stand, alongside our ally"
His words were comforting.
But the giant's following grin was cruel.
"Stand? You find yourself in servitude, not service" he guffawed, his laughter humorless "A once proud 'Son of Dorn', reduced to a dirty beggar"
His eyes darted to Vownus for a moment, before settling back on the Astral Knight.
"You are but a husk of what you once were"
Vownus knew the words cut deeply into Germael's pride. But instead of irritation, or anger at the comment, the Captain replied calmly and evenly.
"Better a beggar than a Beast, you honourless cur"
…
"You dare!" the taunted Space Wolf roared, an aggressive step forward taken in the direction of Germael.
"HAMMERSBALD!"
The call of the giant's name halted any violence. Vownus withdrew the hand that had naturally snaked to his sword's hilt.
It took a second for him to remove it as a seventh Space Wolf approached the tense group of six.
Against all hopes, Vownus believed that this one would wrangle in the tensions of this current dispute.
"Kjarl would speak to him-" the new arrival gestured to Vownus, "-alive. Do not stir the waters"
"But-" the larger figure, the one called Hammersbald, tried to plead his case. The newcomer had none of it, silencing him with a frosted gaze. Vownus added the image of that glare to his memories.
He needed to learn how to replicate such an expression. It seemed to have its uses.
Then the eyes of this frigid Wolf turned upon the Inquisitor.
And it was not pleasant in the slightest.
"I am Eiran. First of the Wolf's Guard" the intensity of the gaze did not relax.
"My Lord wished to speak with you, and only you Inquisitor"
Vownus spoke, risking that fear had climbed up his spine. Even against Daemon and Traitor, Xenos and Pirate, something about the death at the hands of a Space Wolf always unnerved him.
Not a true fear, but that the Chapter in its entirety despised the Inquisition as a whole did not help what rocky foundations he held.
Something about the fangs, mounted on a human face.
It dug up terrible memories.
"A private audience?"
But his question rang loud with a spine to back it up. Unless the Space Wolves could smell discomfort, and knowing them they probably could, Vownus' more subtle feelings would remain hidden.
The eldest Wolf, Eiran, simply nodded in clear affirmation.
Vownus decided to extend an olive branch.
The Wolf Lord would be the only one to question him and subsequently hear Vownus' answers. But Kaede knew he had nothing to hide. And the sooner that the Wolves knew this, the less irritating his presence would be.
And also, maybe…
He could find out why they were here, above Balor. An entire Battle Barge of them to boot…
Vownus did not get this far in his career to believe in simple happenstance.
Coincidence had gone ignored, and killed greater men then him.
"There is no need. Your Wolf Lord may question me in front of his entire ship should he desire, the answers will be the same even if we were in private"
Eiran's eyes narrowed.
"We will know if you lie"
Vownus came to the instant realization that the Wolves would also not take his words at face value. Not at all.
"My purpose on Balor is simply to rest and-"
Eiran held up a clawed hand.
"You need not tell me, Inquisitor" he turned to walk away, signaling them to follow with a quick gesture.
"It is Kjarl Grimblood you must convince"
"Oi!"
The clanging of large fists upon poorly welded, yet surprisingly still connected, steel doors echoed out.
"Shu' it'" a voice grumbled.
In the jagged light of this busted and broken corridor, the likes of which could almost resemble a corridor within a ship, two large figures guarded a doorway.
They were guarding it with propa' focus.
Da Big Boss had told 'em;
"Gitz, if da boyz get out, I'll take ya' skullz"
And so they stood in front of the door, out of certain fear that the sole occupant locked behind the bastardized jail cell door would break out.
And they'd make Da Big Boss angry.
It wasn't fun to stand in front of the door.
But the occupant was good at getting out.
A real sneaky git, many a large green clan member of the guards would say.
"OI!"
"I SAID SHU 'IT!" the guard repeated, slamming the butt of his shoota' against the door. The git' had realized e' wasn't gonna, but he was still mad.
Why did Da Big Boss haf' to say e' couldn't hit him?
"Don't break da door you stoopid git!"
The other guard cursed at his cohort, giving him a tough glare.
"Rgggghm" the first growled into a snarl.
Guard duty was by far the most un-orky thing a proper ork could do. There weren't no looting, shootin, stabbing and lootin'.
It was boring.
Or atleast, that was how Grobgob Gitsmasha felt. He liked lootin'. And he couldn't be lootin' while he was guarding the cell.
But Da Big Boss was listened to.
Always.
As they, the total summation of orks onboard this space faring… vessel, traveled through tha weird space, Da Big Boss had risen.
A true Ork.
A propa Goff too.
He was Big. And he killed everyone who got in his way.
So of course Grobgob Gitsmasha and Skrollwazza Ironrukk would listen to his commands.
It was that or die.
And they' wanted to be part of Da Big Fight that the Boss was planning.
"'ey Grob'"
The Deathskulls Loota turned to look at the other Deathskulls Loota.
"Yea Skroll?"
"Why you phink we're 'ere?"
The ork blinked slowly, unaware that one eye blinked a second before the other.
Smartly, he explained his confusion to his comrade.
"...wot?"
Skrollwazza Ironrukk grunted in annoyance, but spoke again to his comrade.
"I says, "why you phink we are 'ere?"
Grobgob Gitsmasha scratched his chin, thinking about the question he was being asked. It took his steel trap of a mind a few minutes before it came to an answer.
"Cuz Da Big Boss said so'"
He had stated it with surety, a confident note in the last few words of the statement.
"No! You idiot!"
Grobgob is almost rendered unconscious by the blow that strikes his unprotected green skull. With a rageful snarl he turns to strike Skrollwazza, only to be hit again in his attempt.
Skrollwazza was the larger of the two, but only by about a mouthful of stacked teeth.
"Phink gob" the Ork points at its head, "phink. Why are we' 'ere?!"
"Wot' you mean by 'ere?!" Gob shouted back pathetically, raising his shoota in defense of his face.
"I mean 'ere!" repeats Skroll, looking around the two of them as he points at the floor of the desolate corridor.
"Da Cells?" Grob attempts.
But Skroll growls in frustration, "no."
"Da Ship?" he tries again, a slight hint of frustration in his tone.
"No!" but is met with denial.
"Da strange Space?" Grob is getting angry now, propa angry.
"NO!"
"DEN WOT YOU MEAN BY "'ERE!"" he roars into the face of his equally irritated clanmate.
"I DONT. BLOODY. KNO'" Skroll screams back.
Gob settles back down, his entire face crawling with as confused as one of his kind could look.
"If ya don't kno…" Grob's brain is lightning fast as it puts together his question, "...den wot you askin?"
The two Orks were on the verge of a genuine, honest to Gork and Mork, philosophical discussion. But they did not know this.
They were grasping at the straws of which hummie philosophers had barely scratched upon for hundreds of thousands of years prior.
And any chance of this topic fulfilling itself?
Was taken apart by the snide voice of the Ork within the cell.
"He's just a dumb git'. Don' mind 'im Gob"
It took Skrollwazza a second to react to the prisoner's taunt. Only understanding that he had been called dumb, the larger of the two ork's banged its weapon against the door.
"SHU' IT!"
It is the might of the strike which forces the door to blow off its poorly welded hinges, immediately opening the cell to the corridor.
Instantly, its occupant is out of the newly opened prison, rushing down the corridor to somewhere of potential safety.
It takes Gob and Skroll a few more seconds to react.
A beat later, they're after the escapee Blood Axe, insults and promises of pain hollering from their toothy mouths.
And as such, the chance at any Ork developing a sense of Philosophy was avoided.
Lucian was bursting with excitement, a strong effort being taken by himself to avoid hopping from foot to foot in order to allow the energy to leave his body.
The Guardsmen behind them were not blind to the boy's mood, nor were his minders that stood beside him.
Lynwood looked displeased as usual, but Caius had a sneaking suspicion that the man enjoyed seeing the boy practically vibrate from excitement.
Caius had begun to suspect, among other things, that Lynwood had some kind of soft spot for the boy. A care that Caius had only seen demonstrated after the boy had lost the last of his family… after the death of the farmer, Ostus Barrow.
And while one time does not make a trend, really thinking about how easily Lynwood had agreed to the boy's immature suggestion left a suspicious note in Caius' mind.
However he could be wrong.
This could be some kind of test Lynwood was willing to give the boy in order to see how honorable the boy could be. Keeping to his promise of behaving and all that.
Regardless of the motivation, Caius could at least somewhat share with the boy's enjoyment to get off of the vessel. Perhaps it was the color palette, or the sequence of events prior to their arrival… but Caius needed to be free from this metal environment.
Balor was nothing like the open streets of Helios… but nor was it a smoggy tomb like Agrax.
An appropriate choice, one that he believed Vownus to be responsible for.
His mind had almost equated it to a Holiday, but he wasn't completely naive. Lynwood had explained how more soldiers were to be drafted into the Inquisitor's service, as well as how their duties would begin to increase in quantity as Vownus' legions expanded.
There was a long road ahead of them.
So perhaps now was the best time to indulge in some fanciful relaxation.
"You think we're going to be near the ocean?" Caius quietly asked the boy.
Lucian fixed him with a funny look for a second, before his face brightened up with joy, "I bloody hope so!"
"Language" Lynwood instinctively snapped.
"Sorry" the child mumbled.
Just because the boy was to be trained as a Psyker and more then certainly kill others with his powers… well he didn't need to be unnecessarily crude. Or at least in Lynwood's book Lucian did not need a Guardsman's mouth.
"Yes Lucian" Caius nodded sagely, "you shouldn't say such things"
The boy gave him a wondering look once more, before his eyes knotted into a youthful glare.
"But you were the one who-"
"Such a shame it would be, for your practical test to be tomorrow" Caius shook his head with dramatic disappointment, "such a shame"
The boy looked away, unable to hide the grumbling as he glared at the back of the Guardsman ahead of him.
Caius smirked, even as Lynwood looked over to him with a raised eyebrow.
The elder of the two agents could not believe how far of a 180 his friend's attitude had gone since they'd had their 'talk'.
It was almost startling. But between the now obvious layers of positivity and humor, Lynwood could still see the same attitude of the individual that he had worked alongside and come to respect.
It was still Caius.
Even if he'd begun to pick up some mannerisms from Vownus.
Lynwood grumbled as the line moved forward again.
He could see the end of the line.
They were almost to leave the ship.
"My Lord, I have brought the Inquisitor and his Astral Knights"
None of the Sons of Dorn reacted to Eiran's jab at their suggested subservience to Vownus, merely forming a semi-circle around their much shorter ally.
The room they had brought to was filled with large tables, long benches on either side of the great lengths of raised wood.
It seemed that this was the Axe of Russ's mess hall.
With a grand ceiling raised above the ground, crude iron chandeliers hung from the orante and sharp ceiling. Thousands of lit candles were what provided the room light, showing off the mounted skulls, helmets, weapons and armor that decorated the walls of this great hall.
Vownus only took in the surface details of such design choices, his eyes focusing between all the other souls present in the room.
The space was sparsely populated, and Vownus and co. had passed a few clusters of Space Wolves as they had been led toward the front of the hall. Unfriendly looks had been returned, but no action was taken.
They arrived uninterrupted at the one table surrounded by seats, chairs designed for what Vownus could only assume to be the Wolf Guard.
But a single chair stood out among the other's.
It was trimmed with white and black fur, slightly more ornate then the others.
And it was occupied.
Kjarl Grimblood was currently chewing on a piece of meat, a large horn filled to the brim with thick looking amber Mjod following his consumption.
Vownus suspected the act was intended to intimidate him.
Or perhaps that the Wolf Lord was just hungry as the Inquisitor had arrived.
Vownus doubted it.
Behind the seat stood the Wolf Guard, each and everyone one of them with their eyes focused on Vownus and the Astral Knights. All of them shared in the open hostility that Vownus could detect in the air.
The tension was so thick you could cut it with a knife, and yet the silence was only penetrated by the Wolf Lord's eating.
Vownus prefered to change that.
He offered a nod of his head, tipping his hat forward as he said, "Lord Grimblood, I am Vownus Kaede. It is a pleasure to meet you"
The Wolf Lord reached for another horn, his eyes focused on Vownus's form as he downed another horn of ale.
Vownus held the gaze.
Without a belch or burp, the leader of the Fire Wolf Company wiped his froth stained features, brushing away what he could from his lightly bearded face.
"You're a Witch Hunter"
Vownus nodded, "I am"
The Grimblood tilted his head slightly, both arms coming to wrest on the table. Vownus did note how the fingers on his right began to tap the rough surface of the wood.
"Never met a Witch Hunter before" Kjarl spoke softly, seemingly to himself as if he were in deep thought.
He continued speaking a second later.
"It's always hard to understand what you sneaky bastards are up too" he stated directly, displeasure coloring his open condemnation of Vownus, "one moment you're saving worlds. Next, you're destroying them"
His tapping stopped.
"Why are you here Inquisitor?"
The eyes of the Wolf Guard almost became unbearable. But Vownus withered their focus.
"Soldiers and time"
The Wolf Lord considered the words.
"Time? Time for what?"
Vownus pulled the hat from his head, "I am an Inquisitor Lord Grimblood. I have assets which need to be taught, blades that must be sharpened. Such methods of teaching and instruction should be conducted in far more… removed locations"
There was a brush against his brow.
Vownus' eyes instantly sought the being with which the incredibly subtle mental probe had initiated from.
A part of his mind cursed itself for not noticing the hood of the Psyker that stood among the Wolf Guard's rank. Just because it was made out of the hide of a beast, did not mean the article served the same purpose as Aethod's own.
"He speaks the truth" the Space Wolf Psyker, the Rune Priest, answered aloud.
Vownus felt Aethod tense, but waved his concern down.
This was not something he was incapable of handling. Besides, he did not wish to irritate the Wolf Lord.
However, he did not like this apparent lack of trust. Yes he understood where it originated from, but that didn't mean Vownus condoned such an underhanded action upon his person.
"If you had wished to read my thoughts Lord Grimblood, you needed but merely ask"
The Lord grinned savagely, "as if you would have submitted to it"
Vownus shrugged, "I would complain, but if it is necessary to earn your trust, I would do it"
"You will never earn my trust" Grimblood immediately replied, any kindness slipping from his features, "especially with words like that"
Vownus frowned, "how jaded must you be to treat me as a liar. Do you not think there is even the slightest possibility that I speak the truth?"
"You Inquisitor's are-"
Vownus banged a hand to the table, ignoring the pain that shot up his fist as the wood failed to yield.
No-one moved at the surprise action, but they did shift their focus to it. Some of the other occupied tables in the hall that weren't already listening in physically turned to stare.
The Wolf Lord regarded the fist and then the irate Inquisitor behind it.
Vownus spoke a moment later.
"Hate the Inquisition for all I care. Despise our methods, or our practices, such condemnation matters not" Vownus stood tall and straight, a rage in his eyes, "but do not ever compare me to any other of my Order. I have done far too much, sacrificed much, to not be categorized among such monsters"
The final word was a hiss, a burning fire in the Inquisitor's eyes as he glared.
Kjarl Grimblood stared back, his visage a clear slate of uncaring apathy.
In an instant he broke out into a loud rumble of laughter. None else laughed but the Lord, who took a moment to calm himself down by having another drink of Mjod.
"My my" he muttered, coming down from his chortling high, "I did not believe I could ever meet such an odd, yet fiery Inquisitor"
He smirked again as he stood from the table.
"You appear honest" he settled for, "but I will only give you the benefit of the doubt once. Balor is under my supervision, and any problems or issues that begin to appear, I will hold you responsible for"
Vownus nodded, "I can understand that"
Grimblood violently lurched forward, coming halfway across the table to loom over Vownus.
The Witch Hunter flinched, only ever so slightly but enough for the superhumans in the immediate vicinity to notice.
Grimblood spoke with whispering violence.
"Then also understand that I know you have secrets Inquisitor. Every man does. So long as any of your secrets will not interfere with my interests…" he stepped back, "...then I see no further reason for us to speak"
Vownus nodded.
The Wolf Lord huffed but did not continue his verbal lashing. He had said what he needed to.
And Vownus was ready to reply to the final statement, to admit that no secret of his would ever disturb the Space Wolves.
However he never got the chance to.
Because that was also when Lucian, Caius and Lynwood finally departed the Tempests Advance.
More importantly, it was also when the young Psyker exited the Psychic dead zone created by the strange blank currently held aboard the Tempests Advance.
Aethod and Vownus felt the moment Lucian's near indomitable presence became detectable.
And sure as shit, the Rune Priest across from them felt it too. Vownus could tell by the warrior stiffening as his brain caught up with what his senses were telling him.
Vownus had only one thought as the situation went from zero to one hundred in a heartbeat.
More of a mental reminder if anything.
'Caius, Lynwood… if I survive this I'm going to grill you alive'
AN: And there you have it. Thousands of words later... and we've ALMOST arrived at Balor. Hahahhaahhahaah. Sorry this took so damn long, but I've been underestimating exactly how much I need to write in order to set up my battles n stuff. All the twists and turns need to be planted now, each individual character getting their time to be fleshed out and utilised for the bigger picture I intend to form.
I'm glad so many of you have stuck on for so long. I'm sorry about the long ass break, but I hope the frequency from now on will be at a more comfortable waiting time for y'all.
Even though I write this for myself, I'm happy to be able to entertain others as well.
The Emperor Protects,
Freedom.