[INCOMING TRANSMISSION: VARIX SQUAD ALPHA]
[ACCEPT CALL?]
[Y/N]
(Y)
[PLAYING TRANSMISSION]
The camera feed activates, revealing a dower looking man staring back; one Seargent Makeral of the Cordian 85th, ,if memory served well. His skin was pale and wrinkled with age despite only being in his thirties, and his armor is littered with decals and tallies that were more than likely not authorized, not that many would tell that to the man.
The background behind him was far more interesting, though only with the proper context. In truth, the large trees that made up the forest were un-important, apparently descended from some Terran variety according to his biologis, and honestly a few stray stones were un-noteworthy. What was interesting was that this world, sitting well within what should have been a dead zone of warp storms and anomalies, was covered in life. TERRAN life at that.
{"This is Seargent Makeral, do you read me Inquisitor?}
"Yes, Seargent, begin your report."
The Seargent lets out a sigh and rubs the back of his bald head before starting
{"Valkerye dropped us off at the insertion point at 0900 standard like planned, and we began moving to the POI. Just like the preliminary scan showed, a large number of faux daemons were moving towards the same location, initially ignoring my squad before we started shooting 'em."}
He gives a small chuckle, shaking his head with a slight hint of bewilderment.
{"When the scout partys said they went down easy, I thought they were joking, but no! It really only took one or two lasbolts to down the karkers, didn't even need to be good ones, the bleeders would drop as long as the shot hit 'em directly. Not too sure why, but, well, I suppose asking that question is your job."}
The man coughs into his fist, refocusing.
{"We worked our way towards the POI, killing the karkers on the way, and uh, the lads theorys were a bit off..."}
He looks concerned and unsettled, glancing off to the side.
{"... It wasn't a native patrol, or even a few civilians who managed to hold out. Nah, when we approached the 'eye' of the horde's focus, we found a clearing and only a single person."}
He looks away again, his hand falling to his side and inching towards his bolt pistol.
{"It's a bloody Psyker my lord, and a dangerous one at that. She was tearing through them like it was nothing, like a whirlwind of death. The beast may go down easy, but they're fast as a bike and hut like a Russ, seeing her move through them like that... Despite my better judgment, I ordered my squad to focus on the Daemons. The battle went on for a bit, but by the time we got there things were already clearing up, was about to try and talk to the thing before Private Cloun was gutted by some frakking mutant."}
The fearful look on his face is entirely replaced by burning rage.
{"Didnt even see the creature before it struck, that weird tail going straight through the Privates gut. We responded as quick as we can, firing at the beast..."}
The confusion returns.
{"And it just... took it! Charged straight at us like our bolts wouldn't do anything. Bloody hell, even had the Gaul to look surprised when its arm turned to mulch from my bolt pistol. I think it had some form of deflection field, as it took two lasbolts to the chest before our shots started landing proper."}
He gestures off camera for a moment, ushering someone over. After a second, a corpse is brought into frame.
It was disturbingly human at first glance: its face had all the right muscles, its hair somewhat cared for, and nothing seemed too out of ordinary until... The Tail. A chitinous thing weaving from the back, a sickly barb at its end.
The Seargent smiled into the camera.
{"Made him regret attacking us, that's for damn sure."}
He unceremoniously drops the corpse to the ground, schooling his face once more.
{"After we killed the thing, the Psyker turned to us and started to say something before just... Dropping! We didn't shoot her, and the Daemons and mutant never landed a hit! Medicae Flunder says exhaustion got to her."}
The Seargent looks like he is about to say more but is cut off.
"While this has been very enlightening, Makeral, I am sure it could have waited for your return, why are you telling, me now."
He stops for a second, a concerned look on his face.
{"... My lord, she isn't a normal Psyker."}
The man takes a deep breath.
{"Light was streaming from her eyes, turning the Daemons to stone, but washed over Private Anchove without doing a thing."}
He stared into the camera, as if trying to look the inquisitor in the eyes.
{"I aint a priest, nor am I an inquisitor, but I know weird shit when I see it. I couldn't risk this report not reaching you, even if all that's left is evac."}
"...Thank you, Seargent, this has been...enlightening."
The inquisitor sits up straighter, staring the man down.
"Bringing that Psyker to the Ferry of Martyrs is now your main priority. I'll have a stronger escort attached to your evac and will give you clearance to board my vessel. Let me be clear, at this moment securing that Psyker is worth more than your own life, and should you fail to bring her to me..."
{"...I understand, My lord, I should hopefully be with you soon."}
"See that you do." The Inquisitor said, before disabling the Vox.
He stood, walking to his offices window. The planet below, watched by a shattered moon was an interesting one, and if it gave him a new weapon in his arsenal, well...
All the better.