**Author's notes: since this fic is very long, a refresher: The Verpestyns are the Inquisitors aboard the vessel Erika had sensed searching for them outside of Rhadabus all the way back during chapters 67-68. The Count of Saint Germain is introduced as a part of chapter 100. Thank you everyone who is still reading this long and very background-heavy fic. Comments/reviews are always appreciated!**
"Make way!" the well-dressed Inquisitor Lord shouted, brandishing his rosette ahead of him in one hand, and his distinctive eagle-headed cane in the other as he raced down the vaulted dark hallways of the Deathwatch Watch Fortress Fort Pykman. An Astartes in unmarked black power armor stepped aside, a curious look on his scarred face. Other marines stood nearby, watching the curious group of posh Inquisitors frantically race down the wide metal hall, the sound of their striking boots echoing loudly.
The Count of Saint Germain was in a desperate hurry, protocol be damned! He had psychically perceived that the Verpestyns of Ordo Malleus were torturing someone who had borne witness to the light of the great eagle, and the Inquisitor had to stop this act! Malleus needed to be thrown off the scent of the Divine Intervention!
Visions of what was currently transpiring began to pass through the Count's mind as he approached the large ceramite door. This entryway led to the interrogation room, and it was guarded by two particularly large Astartes in full dark Deathwatch armor. Nearby, four Verpestyn Inquisitors milled about in their uninspiringly plain uniforms.
In his mind, the Count began to visualize the scene that was currently unfolding behind this door.
"I'm telling you, I don't know anything else!" a young astropath was pleading before another Inquisitor Lord. His grey blind eyes were lashing desperately to and fro, and his bare chest was scorched from where he had been burned. Within his body, his soul was also burning. He was refusing to offer up the memories that his interrogators had very recently unlocked within him through arcane means, but his resistance was waning. "I don't know about any gold woman, or a voidship shaped as an eagle! Please!"
The deep commanding bass of infamous patriarch Frollo Verpestyn lashed through both the Warp and the interrogation room. "I would like to believe you, young man, but you see, I'm having a spot of difficulty concerning the color of your soul. I still see that you hold more information from me, and I would have that blackness burned away by the righteousness of truth."
Saint Germain reeled, nearly stumbling over his coat as he ran. At the moment he had perceived, Frollo stepped back from the young man, and turned to the closed door, sensing that another psyker had intruded into his interrogation.
Frollo Verpestyn was another Inquisitor Lord with psyker abilities, and while they weren't as keen as Saint Germain's, he was still potent enough to perceive minor Empyreal perturbations such as unwelcome remote viewing.
"Open up in the name of the Inquisition!" the Count shouted as he finally reached the door, brandishing his rosette upward at the Astartes guards. Taking a moment to catch his breath, and seeing that the door was not being immediately opened for him, Saint Germain calculated a new strategy. "Open, I say! Ordo Chronos outranks Ordo Malleus in this jurisdiction under the authorization of a special operation! I am Lord Inquisitor Saint Germain, and I demand entry!"
The Astartes guards before the tall door moved aside, but the door did not immediately open. The other Verpestyns that stood milling about the entryway were now observing (and judging) their newly arrived contemporaries. Each Inquisitor was clad in uninspired standard Imperial military wear. Whoever their tailor was should be executed, Saint Germain scoffed. He took a moment to observe the boxy lines and messy open seams of each plain uniform before him as he waited for the way forward to open. Inquisitors should be aesthetically inspiring and stand out from the crowd when on official business like this, but these people might as well be dressed as lowly officers in the Imperial Guard on some run down shithole farm planet considering how plain and frumpy their uniforms were.
Ah, Saint Germain, the Count then heard a smooth, but very cold psychic voice inside his mind. The Count absolutely despised having to deal with this particular Lord. Why on Terra have you come here, and why did you not personally answer my summons earlier? Does Ordo Chronos believe they can flout the rules of Inquisitorial conduct?
Just open the damned door, Frollo, Saint Germain telepathically responded in irritation. The Count was slightly out of breath, and made a mental note to attend to his physical exercises more when back aboard the Tempus Infinitum.
Very well, but please leave your henchmen in the hall. My wife and I wish to have a private discussion with you.
I'm bringing my assistant, Frollo. If you have your wife in there, it is only fair, Saint Germain telepathically retorted.
There was a pause, and for a moment, Saint Germain considered that Frollo Verpestyn would keep him locked out, but then, the large ceramite door crawled open, splitting at its midpoint and opening outward.
"Alright, everyone wait here and play nice with these Verpestyns. Catch up on Imperial gossip, give them style tips, whatever. Sura, you're coming with me. They're demanding a more private audience as they torture someone to death with fire," the Count spoke to his attending coterie of six Inquisitors and made a dismissive wave toward the waiting group of Ordo Malleus Verpestyn troglodytes, who bristled in mild offense. Sura, who was a youngish bronze-skinned and dark-haired man with a mechanical eye, stepped forward with a short bow to accompany his Lord.
Saint Germain's coterie consisted of three men, and three women, each from eclectic backgrounds. No servo skulls or servitor aids presently followed them, as their Lord found such things unsettling. Each of the Count's Inquisitors was dressed in fine style, with each clad in perfectly tailored dark military suits with gold trim, and long cloaks lined with the finest fabrics. All who followed the eccentric Ordo Chronos Inquisitor Lord were always impeccably dressed, and Saint Germain happily picked up a jealous stray thought from a nearby Verpestyn Acolyte who wished that she could dress so beautifully on official business under such a dashing Lord. Feeling cheeky, Saint Germain turned to face the young Acolyte, who then quickly looked away with a shy blush. As the door continued to creek open, the Count stole a quick wink in the young woman's direction.
"I don't like this, my Lord," Inquisitor Sura quietly warned the Count with a shake of his head as he walked beside him. Sura nervously clutched his jeweled power sword with a gloved hand.
"Neither do I, my friend. But, I can handle this," Saint Germain quietly sighed as he made sure his tied-back long silvery streaked hair was in place, and that his long dramatic coat of ebony velvet brocade and embroidered gold eagle details was buttoned correctly. The Count clutched his treasured sword cane, and rubbed a gloved hand across its head of living gold. His priceless cane's three jeweled eyes reminded him of the importance of preventing Malleus from investigating the Divine Intervention. The modern Imperium of Mankind had a habit of ruining absolutely everything with their bull-headed ignorance, and if the greater Inquisition got wind of the existence of this divine machine, they would no doubt attempt to destroy it.
The door was now open, and both Sura and Saint Germain stepped inside.
The smell hit Saint Germain immediately as he strode down the short hallway of grim riveted metal that led to the torture room. The air was thick with the smell of sweat, burning flesh, excrement, and most of all, fear. He should have arrived earlier, the Count swore to himself. It seemed that Frollo was in the thick of his fiery torture by the scent permeating both the air and the Warp. Usually, the old monster had the habit of ramping up his interrogations over a period of many hours, but now, it appeared that fiery Frollo had leapt right into his favorite pastime shortly after arriving here, causing untold misery to someone who may or may not be guilty.
The hallway opened to a wide square room about five meters cubed. A single harsh lantern on a chain dangled above over two metal beams that had been erected in the shape of an "X". A young man shirtless man was fastened securely to the cross with thick leather straps in a spread eagle position. This was the astropath they had been torturing. Adjacent to the crucified man, a nearby brazier of smoking coals threw off the spicy scent of incense (which did little to mask the stink of burning flesh), and a long red hot poker was resting atop its glowing embers. On the cross, the young man shook with pain and delirium, and his head of messy dark hair was slouched. He did not even appear aware that Saint Germain and Sura had entered the room. Various injuries bled across his abused torso, and one of the psyker's nipples had already been sawed off. A smoking gash carved a long furrow along his rib cage where the hot poker had been dragged. Having met with these Inquisitors before, Saint Germain recognized that this cross was a holy "blessed" artifact that these pyromaniacs carried with them on their voidship, the Inevitable Wisdom. Any leather straps affixed to it would not burn, and if in contact with someone speaking a lie, it would burn like hot iron against bare skin.
Standing beside the cross were two of the most despicable individuals under the employ of the Imperial Inquisition. To the left of the cross, a woman of slight stature and fierce continence stood wearing a grey butcher's apron over her black uniform. This was Dolorez Verpestyn, Matriarch of the Verpestyn family and resident liaison of Ordo Malleus for Fort Pykman. Her expression was that of a strict school matron who exuded perpetual hatred, and she wore her grey hair in a tight bun away from her cruel face. From what the Count had gleaned from her file, it seemed that Dolorez intentionally took this remote position in order to find as many "suspicious" locations to investigate as possible, and being a resident of a Deathwatch Watch Fortress was an ideal place to obtain any reports of heresy, genuine or not.
To the right of the cross stood the true beast of the Verpestyn family, the original root source of their fire obsessed degeneracy. Inquisitor Lord Frollo Verpestyn was an imposing figure. Standing at approximately two meters tall, Frollo was nearly two hundred years old, and although the rejuvenat treatments kept him strong, time had carved his face to resemble a statue depicting the emotion of contempt. He was clean shaven, sallow-skinned, and had short salt and pepper hair that was always perfectly combed. Like his similarly brutal wife, Frollo also wore a long grey butcher's apron, and his was already stained with blood. The Ordo Malleus Inquisitor Lord gazed down from his height at Saint Germain, his watery hazel eyes twisted in an arrogant sneer toward Saint Germain as he stood before the grisly scene. Frollo cleared his throat, and began to speak. "How pleasant of you to join us, Lord Saint Germain. I sent a request for an audience an hour and seven minutes ago, but you only deigned us with your presence now, and right as we were becoming immersed in business. Lack of punctuality, you know, is unbecoming of an individual of such a high stature of yourself, seeing as you are of the vaunted Ordo Chronos."
"Well met, Frollo," Saint Germain growled, affecting as much politeness as he could into his voice.
Frollo's mouth was a thin lipless line across his face, and without blinking, he turned to the young victim he had been torturing. "So, Lord Saint Germain, something, it seems, caused you to abruptly react with haste and to actually run to speak with me. How peculiar, I'd say. Are you venturing forward toward a new trend of politeness?"
Saint Germain had a lie perfectly crafted for this question. "Both you and I are psykers, Frollo. This one's psychic screams were particularly harsh on my soul, and I grew tired of you attempting to burn blood from this stone."
"Ah, yes," Frollo smiled wanly, and even began to laugh. He had bought the lie. "I suppose that is true. He must be stronger than his psychic Assignment if his piteous cries can be heard from such distances. I do wish you had come promptly, though. We could have used your expertise here earlier. There are many legends that speak of your psychic might, my Lord. And, not many of Malleus meet your kind and retain their memories. I consider myself privileged to know and remember you personally."
"We attend to our own schedule, and only Terra directs us under top secrecy much of the time, as you know," Saint Germain elaborated, and with a short pause, decided to apply a small amount of intimidation. "I cannot elaborate fully on my current business, but you need to tell me what you're doing here and why you're so thoroughly investigating this Watch Fortress. Authorization, seventy-nine-zero."
There was a pause as both Verpestyn leaders glanced at one another from beside the cross. There was an understanding concerning the veiled implication of a notoriously secretive Ordo demanding their business. "We understand," Frollo eventually and reluctantly responded. "I do wish our Ordos would communicate more. It would prevent any crossed wires. Perhaps when we both speak with Terra once again, a gentle suggestion could be made to our betters. Malleus and Chronos could do so much more if only there was more cooperation."
The Count nodded shortly, not interested in being friendly with these two evil-hearted (and poorly-dressed) individuals. "Listen, I'll cut to the chase. Tell me about your current assignment and this subject," Saint Germain motioned toward the burned torture victim strapped to the cross. Had this man truly witnessed the light of the Divine Intervention? What had he told these Inquisitors? "I've been informed that you're investigating visions of a gold eagle, or something that resembles an eagle. This man seems normal enough. No mutations, and I sense no possession. What have you discovered?"
"Regrettably we have not discovered much, but we believe that we were on the edge of a breakthrough just before you arrived here. We were in the process of flaying the defenses from his mind," Dolorez spoke up as she leaned over the restrained astropath. She reached forward with an almost gentle hand to pinch the weeping astropath's cheek with thin gloved fingers. The unfortunate young man cried in fear at her touch. "Ordo Malleus has been here for some time researching strangeness concerning these unusual and disturbing visions of a woman astride what appears to be a gold eagle, or perhaps a phoenix. Even the hardiest closed minds of this mighty Watch Fortress have been invaded by its corruptive light. It is most alarming. In fact, this outpost's most senior Librarian was recently sent with a brave Kill-team to where his visions indicated this strange apparition would be located, and regrettably, he and his entire team appear to be missing now. Our guess is that this vile entity lured these Brothers outward into the desolate area of space known as the Deadly Desert to possess or consume them, as no trace of them has been detected."
Frollo nodded sagely in agreement with his wife, his face turned downward into a harsh scowl. "None of this is surprising, as the evils of the Warp will seek to lure and tempt even the bravest souls. And, like most malignant evils I've come to know, these especially dangerous entities will not fear to strike even the most unlikely and guarded targets. Sadly, whatever evil this eagle is, it has struck close to us."
Dolorez reached forward to the crucified astropath's face again, but this time, she slapped him. This caused the young man to whimper in terror. Her voice was a low husky growl when she spoke. "Oh yes. While we've been questioning many of the Astartes stationed here for strange dreams, this young man is actually one of ours, and a snake in our nest. His name is Yuri Verpestyn, and he was one of our most gentle-hearted astropaths aboard the Inevitable Wisdom. In a grievous personal attack against us, the evil light of the gold eagle invaded his mind before attempting to remove evidence that it had been seen. His memories seem locked away within him, but through our methods, we are slowly revealing what he has seen. The spirit is wily, but the light of the Emperor will subdue it."
"So, you're telling me that this young man has directly seen this so-called 'dream eagle' or whatever it is?" Saint Germain spoke in a doubtful tone. Inquisitor Sura, beside the Count, raised a dubious eyebrow. "Tell me. Are all of these visions simply dreams? Or do you have proof of something directly manifesting in the Materium?"
There was a moment when both Verpestyns seemed to blanch in embarrassment. Dolorez moved away from the tortured astropath, and stood adjacent to her husband.
During this awkward moment, the Count noticed that on his torture cross, Yuri was turning slightly to observe him. Strangely, his blind eyes seem to fix blearily in almost what appeared to be recognition on his cane.
Finally, Frollo spoke up after a nervous swallow. "Ah, now this is somewhat embarrassing, as we are still unsure. We're still getting to that information. Come to think of it, it was lucky that we even knew that our dear Yuri saw it, as he confessed to his wife that he had been having visions one night. His wife, being a loyal Verpestyn granddaughter, came to us. After a screening, we discovered that a large amount of his soul felt as if it had been impressed somehow by this strange presence, and we're still trying to understand what that means. Because of this, we have hopes that we will learn from Yuri's mind once we break it. The whole thing is most peculiar, but soon, we hope to use the purifying power of fire to unlock every secret within him." The Verpestyn Lord sighed as he casually picked up the red hot poker from its burning brazier. "Peculiar in many ways. Even more peculiar that you are now suddenly here with the Tempus Infinitum. Are you at liberty to speak of your assignment at all?"
"Not presently, no."
Help... me... a pained voice whispered into Saint Germain's mind, and he almost flinched to hear it. The astropath was watching him somehow, even with his blind eyes.
"The bureaucracy of Terra can be positively inhumane at times, don't you agree?" Frollo held up the red hot poker, and smiled as he observed its glowing point. The monstrous patriarch's eyes then began to briefly glow before a hot blue fire ignited at the end of the length of iron. "Care to attend to a small bit of persuasion, Saint Germain? He's not leaving this room alive, so whatever you do, he won't be around to tell others."
"I have to decline. I... I was never much one for fire."
"Suit yourself," Frollo said with a shrug. He then walked ominously close to the tortured astropath. "His soul is so close to breaking open like a rotten corpse, and all things, even forgotten, will be laid bare to me through the purity of fire. But, if he opens his soul to me now, fully and with perfect love and trust, I will give him the gift of a quick death. Isn't that right, Yuri?"
Help me... the astropath transmitted to the Count, his psychic voice wrought with pain. You know her, you saw the woman and the eagle of gold, I-
A scream that reverberated through the physical and metaphysical echoed through both Saint Germain's mind and the torture room as Frollo plunged the poker into the astropath's chest, intentionally missing any vital organs. While the Count could not hear what Frollo was transmitting to the astropath, he knew that it was designed to ravage his subconscious. Any memories, even ones that were locked away, would be opened for this beast to observe if allowed to continue.
I'm getting you out of here, Saint Germain covertly transmitted to the bound and tortured astropath. Don't protest or fight me. Yuri didn't respond, his soul shaking with fear.
"Actually..." Saint Germain motioned with his hand that he wished for Frollo to pause his torture. "I do regret to inform you that I will need to requisition this man for my own purposes aboard the Tempus Infinitum."
Frollo, at hearing this, appeared absolutely crestfallen, and he turned to Dolorez, almost as if he was looking for advice on what to say to this awful news. When his wife remained silent, Frollo began to speak in a low sad voice as he held his flaming poker. "We are very close to breaking him, Lord Saint Germain. Surely it would simply be wise to simply let us continue, as any answers you seek would be freely offered to you once this man's soul breaks."
"I do not desire his soul to break. Ordo Chronos requires it intact for another reason. Therefore, by official order, Ordo Chronos officially requests this individual for a classified project. Authorization code nine-nine-seven-point-five," Saint Germain replied coldly, trying to sound mysterious and even potentially more dangerous than the two fiends standing before him. While both he and Frollo were of the same rank in the Imperium, the highly classified nature of Ordo Chronos allowed them to make specialized demands of other Ordos from time to time.
A pause as Saint Germain wondered if the Verpestyns would attempt to fight this, and gratefully, they did not. Both exhaled in great irritation, however.
"And after all the work I put in here. A damn pity, and a waste if you ask me. This is a fool's order," Frollo responded to this with a shake of his head, his painted on politeness beginning to melt away. "One begins to consider that Ordo Chronos delights in stealing the private glory from the more public arms of the Inquisition with all the interference they involve themselves in. After I'm done with my business here, I'll be speaking to Terra about this, and I suggest you do so as well, Saint Germain. We should all be working together, not undermining one another." The Lord tossed his hot poker carelessly aside to fall upon the metal floor with a clang, causing Sura to visibly flinch.
"Do you accept my judgement, Lord Inquisitor Frollo Verpestyn?" Saint Germain dared, briefly baring his teeth. The Count seriously doubted that Frollo would complain to the Imperium about anything, as any complaints were liable to get them investigated, and this particular family has a long history of bending or breaking protocol.
Frollo clenched his jaw, obviously frustrated that he was denied the pleasure of torturing someone with fire until breakage. His angry eyes glared at the Count, who straightened his back in defiance of the pyromaniac. Frollo's eyes then curiously fixed on Saint Germain's cane, and before any more words could be exchanged, an announcement sounded through the room from a hidden speaker.
"Inquisitor Lord Frollo Verpestyn, Inquisitor Dolorez Verpestyn. Urgent news from Watch Master Utorian Denash. The crew of the Fidelus Oculous has been located. They are approximately twenty light years away. A civilian ship has been requisitioned for their purposes, and they are presently en route. All Kill-team members accounted for, loss of experimental Warp craft reported, loss of all servitors and a Navigator reported. Situation developing. Your presence is requested by Watch Master Utorian Denash in meeting hall nine at your earliest convenience. Praise the Emperor's wisdom."
"Seems your day is looking up, Frollo," Saint Germain responded with snark. "You now have new people to interrogate."
Both Frollo and Dolorez still wore faces of dejection as they made eye contact with one another, and after a short time, they conceded. "We accept your authority and ruling, Lord Saint Germain," Frollo finally explained in an unhappy voice. "We are presently so short handed here, you must understand. This astropath was the best lead we had in our investigation, and we can't very well effectively screen the rest of this entire Watch Fortress to our satisfaction with our lessened numbers. And now these missing Astartes have been found? Even more work looking for a needle in a haystack when our needle might be bound to a cross right here!"
After the Count made a short gesture to his assistant, Inquisitor Sura walked forward to begin to unbuckle the restraints on Yuri's limbs. "Lessened numbers, Frollo? Was there an overly large fire on your vessel recently?" Saint Germain joked before the pyromaniac as the astropath was gradually unbound.
"No. Not this time," the fire-obsessed Lord responded with genuine sadness, not understanding the Count's jab toward him. "Recently, our family brought the deviant world of Rhadabus under compliance, but we had to depart before setting up their new form of government since we had been urgently summoned to this Watch Fortress. We opted to leave a number of our forces behind in order to begin work on restructuring their government to properly suit Imperial means. My nephew Erchot is personally overseeing the restructuring effort, and after we're done here, we're going to return to oversee the process more thoroughly."
"Rhadabus, the ringed world of dreamers," Saint Germain mused. "Actually, I was recently briefed by one of the officers here on the local galactic news, so I am familiar with this operation. I didn't know that you left many of your Inquisitors there. Is it true that you haven't been able to reestablish contact since your arrival at Fort Pykman?"
Both Frollo and Dolorez were silent for a moment, their souls now shining with worry. A psychic tickle of intuition then nudged the Count, informing him with his keen clairsentience that the problem with Rhadabus was far worse than what was being communicated here. Flashes of fire, screaming, and an Imperial rosette engulfed in flames assailed his mind's eye. Great upheaval had struck that world, and it was something even more dramatic than a visit by the Verpestyns!
"Once we're finished with our business here, we will go back to Rhadabus. The Warp has been unstable in this sector as of late due to the cessation of the light of the Astronomican, so I'm sure that this world is simply experiencing some minor Warp perturbations that are upsetting communications," Dolorez informed Saint Germain with a stiff upper lip.
"And how much more work do you have left to complete here, may I ask? It appears to me that you're simply investigating visions of a subject matter that my Ordo is also currently investigating," the Count asked, paving the way for more intimidation. It was paramount that he get these Inquisitors off the scent of the Divine Intervention.
"By our current estimation, we have two weeks remaining of questioning and enhanced interrogation techniques remaining before we can make any sort of ruling as to what these so-called gold eagle visions actually are, Lord Saint Germain."
"Call me overly perceptive since many have, but from what I can glean, you and your wife are growing gravely concerned over the lack of communication from your family members in Rhadabus," the Count began, choosing his words carefully. "Maybe a little cooperation between our organizations can indeed help us both in our goals?"
Again, Frollo and Dolorez glanced at one another suspiciously, and Frollo narrowed his eyes. Technically, Ordo Chronos and Ordo Malleus were somewhat equal in their claims of jurisdiction in this capacity. The only way Ordo Chronos would be able to legally gain the upper hand over Malleus here was to claim that there was an ongoing "special operation" of confidentiality, which would force the Daemonhunters to acquiesce to the demands of the Timekeepers. Officially, there was no special operation ongoing in this specific region ordered by Terra, but Saint Germain understood that communication between different branches of the Inquisition was poor, especially all the way out here in the frontier. Consequently, a slight bending of the truth could work to dislodge these Inquisitors away from this Watch Fortress, quashing any investigations of gold eagle dreams. The Count began his proposition: "I have a proposal for you, old chum. Since our goals are somewhat congruent here, and since Ordo Chronos has investigative priority over this matter under our current classified special operations, I suggest that we officially relieve you of your current assignment at this Watch Fortress so you can attend to your concern over at Rhadabus."
Frollo watched Saint Germain with cold eyes. "Your special operation is similar to our investigation?" Dolorez asked, her face twisting in a doubtful hint of a snarl. "Does your special operation come from Terra directly?"
"I am not permitted to reveal my directive source, as you know, my esteemed Lords," Saint Germain responded quickly, doubling down on his skewering of the truth. "All I can say is that the reason we're out here is somewhat similar to your reason for being here. While I'd prefer not to order you directly, I'd like it if we could peacefully take over questioning here from your skilled hands. I highly advise you to attend to your worries over at Rhadabus. The galaxy has become a dangerous place in these dark times, and without the calming glow of the Astronomican, I am experiencing worry for that far flung world."
Frollo's eyes then glanced at Saint Germain's jewel-eyed gold eagle cane again, and his brow continued to furrow darkly. "I truly don't know what to think of you sometimes, Saint Germain. You are a bewildering figure. I cooperated with your father over a hundred years ago on occasion, and he was similarly difficult to work with. Crossing paths with Ordo Chronos can leave many selectively shaken of their memories, and your goals often seem nonsensical and erratic to those looking inward. In fact, the shape of your Tempus Infinitum has become an ill omen on any long range sensors. Truthfully, I am not pleased with this development. We had a system set up here."
"And I thank you for setting this system up for us. I'll send a commendation back to Terra for your excellent conduct. We can take it from here, my Lord. Attend to your family."
There was another long and burning uncomfortable pause as the two powerful Inquisitor Lords stared each other down, each unhappy that the other was impinging upon their territory. Blessedly, the previous announcement began to repeat, cutting off the difficult moment.
"Inquisitor Lord Frollo Verpestyn, Inquisitor Dolorez Verpestyn. Urgent news from Watch Master Utorian Denash. The crew of-"
Frollo huffed, and brushed a hand against his earpiece, activating its microphone. "Acknowledged, but a change of overseeing Inquisitorial force has been initiated. Ordo Chronos is now taking over operations at this Watch Fortress under a confidential special operation. Ordo Malleus has been relieved. I'm standing here with the Count of Saint Germain, Inquisitor Lord of Ordo Chronos."
"Hello, folks. I'll be at the meeting with my coterie as soon as we can get there," the Count spoke up into his own earpiece, which flashed twice. "With this, Ordo Malleus has been officially relieved of overseeing this investigation, and Ordo Chronos will be proceeding further. Authorization special project alpha-gamma-nine."
"Acknowledged and confirmed," the announcement passed through this room. "Operatives of Ordo Chronos are requested in meeting room nine at their earliest convenience. Inquisitor Lord Saint Germain of Ordo Chronos now presiding over ongoing investigations of this Watch Fortress."
Frollo was still studying Saint Germain's gold eagle-headed cane. The Inquisitor Lord's continued attention on the Count's distinctive cane was concerning.
"I'm sure we'll see one another again, Saint Germain. Trouble seems to follow both you and your Tempus Infinitum," Frollo remarked as he began to untie his apron. "I suggest you employ the cleansing light of fire against this young man's soul once you begin his questioning again. Whatever your methods, I'm sure you know not to keep him alive for security reasons. I've already annulled his marriage to my granddaughter, and he's all but considered a legal Excommunicate Traitoris, so you have no legal worries to trouble yourself over. Legally, he does not exist, so do whatever you please. Pity I can't witness your methods, my Lord."
"If you want to watch, you can, but I'd have to erase your memories or kill you later, you know," the Count smiled in an effort to be disarming.
"And that is understood, despite our disappointment," Dolorez responded, similarly pouting that she and her husband could not torture the young astropath to death vial fire. "We will muster our forces and depart for Rhadabus post haste. Truth be told, this is a blessing for us, despite the tone taken by my husband. That world was an absolute joy to bring into compliance, but I'm most concerned as to why we haven't heard from Erchot."
"As they say, the Emperor always has a plan," the Count continued to smile as the evil couple gathered up their torture implements, which were scattered on the floor aside and behind the cross. Yuri was now finally freed from his crucifixion, and he fell heavily into Inquisitor Sura's arms, and began to weep heavily. Sura whispered, "You're okay, you're okay," to the traumatized young man, reassuring him that his ordeal here was over.
Frollo shot Saint Germain another suspicious glance, and he chuckled darkly. "You're lucky that you're of such esteemed stature in the Imperium, Lord Saint Germain. They also say that one particular Chaos power tends toward plotting and planning, and his touch is often so perniciously subtle that only the most favored of the Inquisition can see it. I could have you on your own cross for such suspicious talk!"
Saint Germain said nothing to that veiled threat, as he simply wanted this confrontation to be over. He could sense that the Verpestyns were still somewhat upset as they continued to gather their torture tools and send orders over their earpieces to their various operatives scattered through the Watch Fortress. The Count sighed in relief. That was a close one. Keeping the Inquisition away from any reports of gold eagles was important, and sending these Malleus psychopaths back to a far flung isolated world that they had previously conquered would give Chronos more than enough time to proceed in their own investigations and to remove as many memories as they could. Whatever was happening on Rhadabus certainly couldn't be any more dangerous than having these Daemonhunters learn of the Divine Intervention's presence!
Elsewhere:
"Oh nooo," the Chaos Marine crooned with an almost girlish laugh as he read the remarkable reality-writing book "The Wizard of Molech" in his tentacled fingers once again. This chapter had been a delight to Word Bear, and he chortled merrily before speaking again to no one in particular. "The Inquisition is on their way to Rhadabus! What a delightfully dreadful development! That is the world where they worship our new God-Empress after she struck the chains of their Imperial oppression off!"
The slender clawed fingers combing his long dark hair briefly paused, and a gentle feminine voice asked, "Cardinal?"
"Nothing concerning your former Ordo, my little pet. Malleus is going to Rhadabus, not Hereticus or Chronos. Continue with my grooming routine. Veeya was ever so harsh with his touch, so I think you'll be taking up this duty from now on. You've got quite a gift for tenderness, girl. And, before I forget, remind me on how to instruct you further on how to formally pray to the Four Powers later. Your earlier impromptu worship, I can tell, has greatly impressed the Four Powers, so you're already off to a good start!"
"Thank you, Cardinal. I welcome these new gifts in my new life," Claudine replied, a slight mad tremor in her voice. The ex Inquisitor had cemented her new alliance with Chaos with a particularly salacious Slaaneshi daemon that had been cajoled into possessing one of this ship's officers, and the brutal aftermath of this experience had left the young woman with a minor mutation of blackened clawed fingers and a newfound appreciation for the beauty of suffering. After the act had been completed, she then killed this officer with her bare hands in an offering to Khorne, which had delighted the Word Bearers to witness.
"Oh, what a wonderful day!" Word Bear sighed before closing the prophetic book. The mysterious Tzeentchian tome had nothing more to show to him without more sacrifices, which the Chaos Marine had decided to stagger out somewhat in order to keep his soul equally devoted to all four Chaos Gods. The prodigal grandson of Kor Phaeron lounged comfortably upon a large chair on the bridge of his new hijacked merchant ship. This vessel had been previously named, most boringly, the "Cornucopia." It had been agreed upon by the Word Bearers that the vessel would be renamed, and that it would now be called the "Malicious Compliance" instead. The voidship's new moniker made Word Bear and his evil Brothers laugh, further brightening everyone's day. Aboard this vessel, they were currently cruising through the Warp away from the insanity consuming the Vigaz system. They had managed to escape just in time.
Immediately upon dominating and shattering the will of the young Inquisitorial Acolyte, Word Bear and his compatriots had stolen onto the Cornucopia, summoned a gang of daemons, and swiftly overran the merchant ship's paltry resistance before hastily disembarking Port Evoldo. As they departed, Word Bear ordered his Brothers to quickly gather up the astropathic choir on board before they could call for help. The seven Chaos Marines sacrificed many of the Imperial lambs as a gift to their rising Dark Queen, who was also attempting to leave this doomed system. Hopefully, she would remember their goodwill, and perhaps she would reward them in the future for their assistance. When the Emperor still walked the galaxy, he often tested those who would be loyal to his majesty, and this new woman would likely be no different.
"I do admit that I had doubts," Brother Aszi responded behind him before walking into view. "But, she saw me. She saw me! She witnessed me as a boy, and saw through my most secret regrets, and tore all doubt from my soul. My Brothers, when we see her again, you must experience the direct assault of her Sight! I gazed deep within the eyes of God! Lorgar was an absolute fool in his assumptions on the corpse Emperor."
"I've never seen anything like it," Brother Ylosa sighed in a feral growling voice, gazing at a nearby glowing holographic star chart. The mutated Chaos Marine's violet feline features were smiling. With the flick of a triangular ear, Brother Ylosa turned back to the recumbent Word Bear, and bowed to him slightly. "I would never have believed you before seeing the Star Child in person, Cardinal. But now, I do. With all my heart and soul, I know that I looked upon divinity!"
The runes on Word Bear's skin burned with thrilling pain as he listened to his Brothers marvel again, and behind him, his new young acolyte continued to brush his hair and massage his scalp. It had been a very busy day, but at least everything had gone well. Despite the loss of his curiosity shop, Word Bear was unbothered, for what do worldly cares matter when spiritual treasures have been gifted so richly? Word Bear had found the literal Star Child that had fallen from heaven to save them, and he was the happiest he had been in thousands of years! Perhaps soon (and when their destined messiah was spiritually altered for their purposes), the rest of his legion could find their purpose once again as true bearers of the divine word of God. As many of the Black Legion rejected the words of Horus after his failure, so now was Word Bear rejecting the inflexible behaviors of his own primarch. Lorgar had misinterpreted his premonitions and visions, and in his impatience, he had marked the wrong individual as God's chosen of humanity made flesh.
Word Bear looked upon the wide space of the hijacked merchant vessel's bridge, and found it pleasing.
The bridge was a mess of blood and viscera spread in profane symbols across the main controls of this vessel. Even more symbols devoted to the Four Powers were being painted with care by corrupted human crewmembers, or by Word Bear's cheerful Brothers, who chattered and smiled like unburdened boys in a schoolyard. One Brother had discovered a large gold Imperial Aquila from somewhere on the ship as wide as he was tall and dragged it onto the bridge. He was now sawing its left-facing head off in order to make a makeshift symbol of devotion to their new God-Empress. With each methodical pass of his saw blade against the soft metal of the gold Aquila, he spoke prayers and devotions to the Four Powers along with blessings to the rising Star Child and Dark Queen. It made Word Bear indubitably happy that all of his doubtful Brothers were now completely convinced of the divinity of the woman they had witnessed. Brother Aszi Thruss was in a particularly joyful mood, and he even began to sing an old uplifting religious hymn that he had learned back on Colchis over ten thousand years ago while he watched over the possessed woman manning the helm. He sang as best as he could in his hissing voice of the nature of the deliverance of God, and the promise of divine salvation.
The mortals on this vessel were not difficult to subdue in the least. Many were even partway corrupted already due to their proclivities for wealthy degeneracy. The only thing some of these people needed was an excuse and a little push, and the Chaos Marines were happy to oblige them. The captain of this vessel had been a morally vacuous old mortal man who had an appetite for forbidden sybaritic pastimes, and when Word Bear, his summoned daemons, and his Brothers stormed the bridge, the captain nearly instantly pledged his allegiance to his new lord. This man was now humming the "If I Only Had a Brain" song from The Wizard of Oz, which had been broadcast through the ship in a fit of whimsy by Word Bear to "get everyone in the mood for the journey ahead" as they had departed the Vigaz system. Currently, they had no destination, and were only attempting to put space between themselves and the chaos they had left behind.
"I could think of things I never thunk before. And then I'd sit. And think some more!" the former captain laughed and sang, his soul teetering toward complete madness as he carved counterclockwise spirals onto his bare chest with a blunt knife, which caused him to messily bleed all over his command chair.
"Don't bleed yourself too much, grandfather," Brother Ylosa laughed, placing a gentle hand in a spiked red gauntlet on the stricken man. "The Four Powers and the Dark Queen of Heaven will not see you wasted before your potential can be realized. You are only at the beginning of the first chapter in your new story!"
The old man said nothing, and dropped the knife on the floor before descending into a fit of delirious giggles. He'd calm down eventually, Word Bear told himself.
"What else does the sacred interdimensional book tell you, Cardinal?" Brother Amadael asked as he casually appeared on the bridge, his power armor entirely covered in dripping hot blood from an unknown source. Amadael was a hairless marine with papery wrinkled white skin, bright red eyes, and a wide, froglike mouth. "How much did the sacrifice to the Lord of Change reveal? Did I overhear that the Inquisition is on the move?"
"Yes, you did," Word Bear replied with a yawn as he sat up, closing the book. He psychically commanded Claundine to stop brushing his hair before standing up with a refreshing stretch. "I bring news. Hereticus has apparently decided to advance upon the beleaguered world of Tar Vigaz despite its little xenos problem. The Inquisitors did not appear to see us, and the xenos did not appear to wish to chase our vessel. Our Dark Queen has passed through a Warp Gate which is now destroyed, and she is now on some backwater world named Ix within the Coronid Deeps, very close to Cyclothrathe. She feels her very soul burning within her by the deific power that subsumes her, forging her into what she will one day be."
"A leader for us, a second chance at hope for humanity, which is why the God of Hope favors her, perhaps?"
"Not only the Lord of Change, my friend. She will become what she will become, and that is a complimentary force to the Four Powers, if my theory is true. Or, perhaps, even above them! My current theory is that she will eventually achieve ascension into a heavenly counterpoint opposite to the gods of our hell. It makes perfect metaphysical sense! Perfectly balanced, as all things should be. Even the gods themselves seem as if they yearn for her cooperation from what I read in the book. If what I read is true, they even seem to court her in friendship! I read that Khorne himself sent a bloodletter as a gift for her rage. If her ascension goes well, the gods may even graciously welcome her at the head of humanity's destiny with open arms and full blessings."
The Brothers spoke a brief prayer to their new Dark Queen before Word Bear began speaking again. "And now, we begin with a new phase. This gestating being from heaven, if I'm correct in what I read, requires souls for her ascension. Just as Slaanesh required the souls of the Aeldari to be born, so does our Star Child. The obsession of the Aeldari created the divine excess of Slaanesh, making the Perfect Prince in his nature. My theory is that if we can suitably feed our rising Star Child with appropriate souls that we can influence the nature of the being our Dark Queen will become."
"Ah, I believe I understand," Brother Aszi remarked, his serpentine eyes widening. "Just as we offer souls to the Dark Gods in worship, we must also now offer souls to our rising new god so that she can finally be born and take her place as the new god of humanity."
"You are correct, my Brother," Word Bear smiled. "But, since her Warp presence isn't fully developed at the present time, I theorize that we're going to need to be somewhat in physical proximity to our Dark Queen in order to effectively feed her ravenous appetite for souls. And, these offerings should be souls of a certain quality. Enlightened souls of high wisdom would both feed and influence her eventual form very effectively, and a ritual sacrifice would greatly speed her ascension. As the old mortal saying goes, 'you are what you eat'!"
Word Bear's Brothers glanced at one another in curiosity. "Enlightened souls, you say? You mean, souls that are devoted to the power of Chaos?"
"Yes indeed, I mean precisely that. Of course, any soul can be consumed, but high quality offerings, ritually devoted, might be able to offer our Dark Queen potent energy that can influence her temperament. After our recent ritual, we now know that devoted sacrifices can very effectively fuel our rising Star Child's ascension. I intend to continue feeding this process, but with very specific meals to shape her into what we... require as a leader."
None of the Word Bearers on the bridge said anything as their Cardinal grinned widely at them, his amber eyes twinkling.
"To summarize my goals: we need to be in close proximity to ritually offer our Dark Queen the specialized souls she requires for her ascension, and we must plan on offering our Star Child as much high quality enlightened power as we can. I theorize that if done correctly, her base morality will shift according to the quality of souls she consumes. And, I have a plan to offer our new gestating god this energy," Word Bear elucidated with a warm smile. The Chaos Marine then stood, and walked to the helm. Word Bear was now standing over the corrupted pilot, who was currently leaning over the command console of the Malicious Compliance, her red eyes gleaming with daemonic possession as she charted their path through the currents of the Warp. "But first, a pressing matter. We have to help the poor souls of Rhadabus, don't you all agree?"
Word Bear glanced about to see if any of his Brothers would dare argue against him. Eyes of various shapes and mutations looked away, and souls blazed with submissive deference. Excellent.
"Yes, of course we all agree. If the Inquisition is indeed on their way there, the innocent lambs of the Star Child's new cult will soon face terrible persecution as their worship is revealed. Fortunately, Rhadabus is a mere four hundred or so light years from our estimated location, and Fort Pykman is thousands of light years distant. This means that we can, with the blessings of the Warp, reach Rhadabus well before these Inquisitors do, assuming they don't utilize any Warp gates or special ethereal currents that we don't know about."
"Forgive me, Cardinal, but what can we alone possibly do to aid these humans against a fully armed Imperial warship?" Aszi asked, his hissing voice serious.
"Not much, I'm afraid. But, what we can do is offer warnings to the God-Empress' new lambs, and instruct them on how to worship their new beautiful deity. Perhaps the threat of imminent invasion will convince some of them to finally leave their insular world, and take up missionary work through the galaxy?"
"Ah, I understand. You make an excellent point, Cardinal," Brother Ylosa responded with a purr, his feline muzzle twisting into a sharp-toothed smile. "Even if they all die, their souls should be appropriately trammeled by the primordial truth before they embrace death. We can also take some with us for the journey."
Word Bear nodded. "Yes. I propose that we visit Rhadabus under a guise of light and beauty in order to offer the good news of God to the masses. We've all done this before, but now, we're simply offering the truth of a new god among the Four Powers."
"I do so love missionary visits as well," Brother Amadael responded with a chatter of his teeth. "The joy of seeing the light of truth in the eyes of a new worshipper never gets old."
"No, no it doesn't," Word Bear glanced at the former Inquisitorial Acolyte as she stood upon the bridge. She was completely nude and staring into space wearing nothing but a mad smile. "The spiritual elation I get from spreading the truth to the galaxy never dims."
"Then it is settled, Cardinal?" Aszi Thruss asked.
"Yes. My dear lady pilot and the wise spirit residing in her flesh, if you would kindly direct this vessel toward the world of Rhadabus, I would be most obliged. You will be fed in souls from the hold, of course," Word Bear instructed the daemon-possessed pilot woman. "We've got a lot of work ahead of us, but finally, the future of this galaxy appears blessedly both noble and bright."