The post mission briefing was held in Vail's Office.
Vail and I were both staring at my pistol, currently unloaded on her desk as well as longingly shooting glances at an unfortunately empty bottle of amasec.
"Bud you gotta explain to me just how the hell you made a two hundred and thirty grain hollow point unmake a daemon." I spoke, the words leaving my mouth in an exasperated sigh. I was growing numb to the anomalous occurrences around the machines around me, seeing as my pistol's safety clicking Morse Code at me hardly fazed me.
"Duty done. End." Vail translates, her face in her hands. The pistol ceases its movement and I sigh as I put it back into my holster.
"Well you're damn good at your job, bud…" I mutter as a servant enters with fresh bottles of Amasec. Vail snatches one and takes a heavy pull before slamming it down on her desk.
"David." Ah shit here we go. "If it wasn't for the increasing number of valuable assets you keep shitting out, I would throw you for a loop , as they say in Footfall." Oh good, Vail's been to the Koronus Expanse.
"Look, this is way beyond what I thought was possible, a'ight?" I sighed out, collapsing into my own chair.
" You have a pocket Grey Knight, David! "
" Vete la verga, I know, Amberley! " I snapped, using her own first name, "I know. And I am sorry, okay?! I'm just riding the wave here, Amberley. I'm doing what I can to help, dangummit. Do you know what we just did on Graia, Amberley? We just headed off a Chaos incursion that would cripple Graian Titan production well into the 42nd millenium. There's still an Ork WAAAGH that's going to come through in the latter portion of this millenium but for the love of God we did it."
"David, I am not trying to ignore our accomplishment on Graia, I'm trying to address potential issues before they become a target on your back." Vail speaks, leaning forward and poking me in my chest. "You are young, you haven't seen the horrors that we have to face. I saw your reaction to the servitors, I've watched you put on this mask of this flippant craftsman but I am an Inquisitor, David. I see the pain in your eyes. The guilt. The fear. I didn't want to send you out to war this soon. I wished to spare you this. To delay your exposure at least until I could guarantee some measure of safety. But you destroyed a Daemon, David." Vail speaks, face softening, her tone more an exasperated teacher than disciplinarian.
"You yourself said that you wanted to keep a low profile, yet you stir our comrades into a pseudo-crusade. You set off a bright white nuke in the warp, David. Rakel's been whispering about how 'The Way' has awoken. Something in the Warp is watching you , David, and I am trying to figure out a way to keep you alive ."
"I'm not trying to kill myself, Amberley." I replied softly, and she nodded.
"I know that, but you are my Apprentice, David. My responsibility is to teach you of the dangers you're to face in my service. To protect you until you are capable of protecting yourself against whatever dangers this galaxy may raise against you. If I'm going to be stuck with you for the next three centuries, I may as well make something useful out of you." she speaks, leaning back to relax in her chair. I swear I can actually see a small measure of fondness in her eyes.
"When did I become your Apprentice? I'd be a shit Inquisitor." I shot back at her, an eyebrow raised in question.
"Just now, actually. And yes, you would be, hence why you're going to learn. We have a few hundred years, you'll probably shape up to a proper Inquisitor by the second century of service or so."
"Can I talk my way out of this?"
"No, I think this is an appropriate punishment for giving me so much work to deal with, Interrogator. You're dismissed."
Well shit.
A few hours later I was summoned to the bridge of the Foedus, which I should've taken as a sign. The debriefing was done, I was supposed to have the rest of the night to recover and rest. Yet a servo-skull entered my room with the summons and escorted me there. I saw Vail, Orelius, Yanbel, and Venters all there, waiting and watching me approach. Why, I didn't know until I found myself being lifted from behind, massive hands under my arms as a dulcet voice, decidedly feminine, echoes through the Bridge.
"This…is my mortal. He is a foolish, scrawny thing, but he is mine." The voice spoke, and I felt myself stiffen. No. no. not this shit. I do not need this kind of drama.
"Please tell me this isn't what I think they are." I whimper, even as I'm physically turned in what could only be the Custodian's arms. They were nine and a half feet tall, clad in gilded armor, yet their arms were bare, as was their midriff. Their helmet was open faced, and a soft cheeked, dark haired, green eyed face locked eyes with me and shot me a wicked grin. A scar from the claw of some beast cut across the right side of what was obviously her cheek under her eye. Other scars marked her arms and legs, but her pauldrons clearly displayed the golden Aquilla. What kind of Tzeenchian Fuckery was this?!
"Oh? What's wrong, little mortal? Did you not think that the Emperor would take measures to protect his investment? Did you not think yourself worthy of such measures despite our Lord speaking to you directly?" She spoke, voice teasing. I can see the muscles under her skin pulsating, throbbing with barely restrained power. Yet my main concern rips itself from my throat.
"Aren't Custodians the chosen firstborn sons of Terran nobility?" My voice is barely a squeak, as I'm currently shaking whilst being hoisted in the air like a puppy being baby-talked by it's new human.
"Oh my poor misinformed little mortal principal. There have always been female custodians." She speaks, and her voice rattles my bones. She settles me on the ground and pats my head like a child. "I will be your shadow. But be warned: I am under orders only to interfere when absolutely necessary. The Emperor expects you to grow of your own merit, not ride on my coattails. My name is Raya, and you, David James Foothill, are mine" no no no not dealing with Yandere Custodian "to protect." not helping!
"She arrived while we were still on the planet. Ordered the crew to stay quiet about her presence until the opportune moment arrived." Vail spoke, exasperation in her voice. I slowly turned to glare at her.
"An Aquillan fucking Shield, Amberley!"
"I know, David. I know."
"I find your exasperation amusing."
Chapter 12
Raya was a good shadow, for someone so large she managed to blend herself into the background rather easily when she wanted to.
When she wanted to.
"You put so much effort into these weapons, yet neglect the ones you were born with." Raya spoke as I was working on the Lawbringer, the shotgun had begun having some cycling issues during the battle as things wore on, and I needed to address it. It looks like the Italians got it right because the Lawbringer was, internally anyway, essentially a scaled-up Benelli M4. An Auto-Regulating-Gas-Operated system designed to run cleaner and hotter than its other contemporaries. Thirty Eight Thousand years later and it's still going strong.
"In the span of a few short months I've gained twenty pounds, lost all semblance of fat in my body, and knocked out a veteran Arbites in unarmed combat. I'm in the best shape I've ever been in my life." I spoke, taking the gas system into my hands and looking it over, cleaning it from the carbon caked state it found itself in.
"Yet, my mortal principal, if I or even my incendiary inclined cousin for that matter, decided to remove your head. I would simply wrap my hands around that pretty neck of yours and lift my thumbs." Okay, that was a terrifying thought. Counterpoint.
"If I'm in a position where that becomes a possibility, a series of grave tactical errors have been made. I am a gunsmith, so I spend my time tuning my arsenal so that in the eventuality when I face down a space marine I'll be able to handle them, God willing, well before I can hear their chain-axe." I speak, keeping my focus on maintaining my weapon, polishing the contact surfaces. I don't hear her move, only feel the air shift as her hand meets my shoulder. Less than half a second. She was on the other side of the room. My hands freeze, my body tenses, I feel myself break out in a cold sweat as her voice breathes an inch behind my ear.
"I am Alpharius, this is a lie." She whispers, her grip like Iron. "Eldar Banshees, Dark Eldar Wytches, any number of fast moving targets. Can your little mortal eyes keep up? Here's a hint dear, I circled around your front." Jesus… "Yes, your weaponry can kill daemons, yes, I am here to protect you, however. You must sharpen yourself. The Silent Sisters are unaugmented, yet can keep up with me and my siblings. You are capable of the same, David. You must push yourself, more than just in your craft." Her tone softens slightly, and her grip loosens to a more reassuring gesture. I turn on my stool to face her with a scowl.
"And how do you propose I do that? Or is making me see Jesus for a second how you get your kicks?" I speak, and I don't like the eager glint that lights up her eyes.
"Simple. I will be taking over your training from tomorrow onward. I have high expectations for you, my cute little mortal. Even if you can't meet them yet, I will carve you into someone who can. By the time we reach Simia Orichalcae, you might actually be able to land a shot." I stared at her, seeing naught but excitement in her eyes, like a girl who found a new doll to play with. I immediately turned back to the table, clasped my hands together, and began to pray.
"Christ above grant me salvation…"
-A few days later, Lawbringer Machine Spirit POV-
Ey, carnal. Something you gotta understand about mi amigo Davíd. Hermano's got a lot on his mind, and we, las armas. We feel that, when he wields us. All his frustrations, fears, anger and anxiety. We feel that and we channel it into our funciones. Why do I say this? Why am I telling some gringitos de la Inquisición about this? Porque es necesario.
Quien Soy? Yo soy El Chingazo Grande. The Big Fucker. Antes Davíd I served el Adeptus Arbites de Mundo de Rynn. Ain't no gang in the Imperium more feared than el Aribites. We ran the streets, at least I did until un cabron de el Munitorum put a bad recoil spring in me and I got shipped halfway across the Galaxy.
I spent about a century drifting from mundo a mundo. Eventually I got shoved into the armory of el Exterminatus. I got laid out on a table, picked up by mi amigo. Davíd granted me una proposito greater than just striking fear into some ganger rata or blowing the head off a grox. He built mi hermanita Repentia, and she's an eager one. Even now, with that amazona de Custodio she's sparking her pilot light. Me? I'm taking Davíd's frustration, fear, and anxiety, and burning them away with every shot he dumps out of my barrel. He's leading his target, yet la amazona is too fast carnal. Custodia Loca has been running Davíd ragged for days.
We've been practically living on David, the viejos have been staying in their holsters, which is fine by me, carnal. Unfortunately some puto in the Mechanicus has been giving Davíd shit ammo, pendejo doesn't like how Davíd does things, so he gave him underpowered shells. I can barely run them. Deal is, I can't afford to be picky about what I eat. Not now. Not when things are about to kick off. La Amazona is kicking Davíd into high gear, but I can feelhis exhaustion, and it affects me. I choked up on the next round. Perdoname, Davíd.
La Amazona closes the distance Davíd was filling with buckshot in seconds and lifts him by his chest plate before he can draw the revolver. He's getting faster, but only slightly. Hermanito, we have work to do.
-En route to Simia Orichalcae, David POV-
My whole body is pain . I have done nothing but train against an Adeptus Custodes for weeks.
(Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: Raya had been holding back, obviously, but their bouts were a source of inspiration for the rest of my retinue. Productivity skyrocketed once word got out.)
I felt myself growing stronger, bit by bit, but progress was slow. Days were filled with training, nights were filled with study or working on projects for the Armory. Unfortunately every time it felt like I was about to make progress, Raya would show up. And the cycle of pain would continue. Even now I was facedown at my desk, woken up from an exhaustion triggered bout of unconsciousness by being picked up like a child and thrown over a shoulder.
"You may hate me now, David. But you'll be thanking me later." Raya spoke, hauling me into my quarters like a sack of potatoes. All I could do was groan, my muscles screaming in protest as I tried to move.
"'Ate this Galaxy…should be home…not dealing with this." I muttered in an exhausted sigh.
"You've been dealt a cruel hand, David. The Emperor has decided your presence is necessary. Considering you woke a sleeping God in less than six months. I have reason to believe him." Raya spoke, and my terror was only muffled by my bunk. Yet her voice remained soft, soothing as she patted my head.
"Rest now, David. You're making good progress, my mortal. Simia Orichalcae awaits, and you will be ready."
TLS:
Carnal: No real direct translation, kind of a general term for "hey man"
funciones: Functions
Gringito: Little Gringo. Gringo is essentially any person that can't speak spanish, a derogatory term. Yankee, essentially.
Armas: Weapons
Hermanita: Little Sister
Hermano: Brother
Amigo: Friend
Porque es Necessario: Because It's necessary
Custodia Loca: Crazy Custodian
Viejos: Old men
Pendejo: motherfucker, stupid, etc. General derogatory term
Cabron: a more mexican dialect version of 'asshole/idiot'
Proposito: Purpose
Puto/Puta: Bitch
Perdoname: Forgive me
Chapter 13
Simia Orichalchae was cold. Yeah, I know, it's an Ice World, it's going to be cold. What you have to understand is that I'm from South Texas. The Rio Grande Valley. A hundred and fifteen degrees at seventy percent humidity? I can handle that. Less than sixty degrees fahrenheit? I'm bundled up, or in a heated truck as much as possible. Anya and Piotr, the Vostroyan Firstborns that constituted my fireteam on Graia are now my official squad with Triton and Soline, the Tech Adepts, having remained on the Exterminatus. The two Vostroyan natives are laughing at my misery. Raya's no better, smirking at me as I shiver despite being bundled to shit with thermal everything.
" Blyat Humans are not meant for this climate…Hell no life is meant for this climate." I groan as we dismount the shuttle and make our way into the promethium refinery that would be a crater in a few weeks. The cold air rushed into my lungs and my chest ached, nope, fuck this going inside. I bull rushed my way past the entrance. Shoving my way past some awestruck Administratum clerk who'd never seen a nine foot tall Amazon before.
"I am Interrogator Foothill in the service of Inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos. This facility is now under Inquisition control. Begin evacuation protocols as soon as humanly possible. Yes, that is an order. Thank you for your cooperation." I say, bringing out the ol' customer service voice, smiling with my eyes behind the winter goggles as I watched the clerk's face pale, his eyes darting to the symbols on my chest plate to the orders marked with Vail's seal that I pressed up to the glass.
I pulled off the snow goggles and Ushanka that had taken the place of my Resistol. Taking a second to enjoy the climate controlled interior of the promethium plant. I take a look around, I spot a few of the miners watching me with weird looks, administratum acolytes running around like madmen. I make my way further into the facility eventually running into a group of disgruntled higher ups, and I see a face that shouldn't be here for another six weeks.
" Interrogator Foothill now, are we?" Cain asked, and I let a grin grow on my face as I approached the group.
"It's been one hell of a year, Commissar Cain." I replied, "you're early, Rakel said you were supposed to be here weeks later. The Orks barely landed yesterday."
"I would think that having more time to prepare would be a good thing?" Cain responded quickly, an eyebrow raised. I shrugged.
"More time for evacuations, yeah. I want this place barren in seventy two hours. You all can hate me if you want but you'll be alive to do so. Cain, Jurgen, you're going to be coming with me, gather whatever guardsmen you trust to help fight in tunnels and prep for some shit. Because those Orks woke something up that unfortunately we have to address." Even as I spoke two rather stubborn bureaucrats from the Mechanicus and Administratum respectively, Pryke and Ernulph if I remember the memoirs right.
"This is outrageous! You have no authority to dole out orders to us!" Pryke shrieks, Ernulph is letting out strings of binaric cant that I assume are derogatory. I let the grin on my face grow wicked as I once again raise up the parchment in my hand marked with Vail's signature and seal.
"Oh but here's the deal: I'm not the one giving you the orders. I'm just relaying them from my mistress Inquisitor Amberley Vail. Who has given me the authority to pull a Commissariat and shoot the both of you should you not comply." As if to accentuate my point the stub revolver on my thigh pulled its hammer back whilst still in my holster. My ears were assaulted a second later.
" BY THE OMNISSIAH! " Ernulph cried with all the power from his vox. A painful experience I might add, cut off by Raya seemingly phasing in from nowhere and proceeded to tear off Ernulph's head with her bare hands.
"He was going to lunge." She states casually, tossing the head over her shoulder to * splat* against the floor as the headless corpse slumps to the ground leaking blood and oil.
" Thank you, Raya, for that acute observation." I sighed out, rubbing at my forehead with my hands.
"Foothill…?" Cain started with a questioning lilt in his voice.
"Yes, Commissar Cain?"
"That's a Custodian."
"Yes, yes she is. Her name is Raya, and she's fucking terrifying. "
"Why thank you, David~!" Take a wild guess who said that whilst cleaning the blood out from under their fingernails.
-Two Hours later, ? POV-
The ice around me is restricting, but I could do nothing about it. Years I've waited, years I've resisted the temptation to rust and rot. The plague father whispers temptations in my mind to let go, that the cold will go away when I do, but I hold fast. I've spent centuries in service to the Astra Militarum, I will not falter now because of a bit of chertova voda!
Sixty years of Ice. I was dropped down a hole in the ice when my wielder was taken and dragged into the depths of this frozen tomb, and for a time that was it. Centuries of service, ended in a cave. From the Siege of Stalingrad, to the Siege of Berlin I cut down the enemies of my country. Years pass. I see combat innumerable. Drifting from wielder to wielder whenever needed.
Once the unification of Terra was completed and humanity locked their eyes on the stars I was sent out with them. The humans often didn't know how long I've been playing the Great Game, and for the majority of my service, outside of maintenance, where my parts would be replaced, improved and so forth. Even now, the only parts of me that I was built with were my receiver, and my bayonet.
When the sounds of combat tickled my chassis for the first time in years, I prayed to the Emperor: Let me fight! Let me serve! And I scream to my machine brethren through the ice.
"In here, tovarishch (товарищ)!" I shouted crying for the opportunity to have one last go, one last bout.
"I've got you, stareyshina! (старейшина)" I hear a younger voice, a melta. My prison is melted in an instant, misted. I can see the battle, ambulls charging a squad of guardsmen, a Commissar and an Inquisitorial Acolyte. An Ambull breaks through the line and causes the Acolyte to jump my way to dodge it's charge. He lands next to me. His shotgun is empty, and swearing in Rynnic. He has a Relic under his shoulder, and I can feel him judging me even as the young man grabs my sodden form and thrusts me forward, I let out an exhilarated laugh as my baronet pierces the ambull's flesh.
"YES! SLAVNAYA TSEL'! (СЛАВНАЯ ЦЕЛЬ!)" I cry, channeling years of frustration and despair into the violent thrusts that the young man gave into the Ambull. It stilled as it's lifeblood leaked into the snow, freezing into a congealed mess. The Commissar Spoke next.
"Well, Interrogator…I don't remember calling to fix bayonets."
" Poshol Nahui, (Пошёл на хуй) Ciaphas."
-Later, back on the Surface, Cain's POV-.
Interrogator Foothill decided to have a slower approach, his plan consisted of having us map the tunnels in slow day missions, retreating after a certain amount of hours in the mines. I wasn't complaining, it allowed me time to actually rest between the adrenaline filled bouts. As the hustle and bustle of the evacuation went on around us David, Jurgen, and I sat at a table in the mess.
"Mosin Nagant, M91/30, chambered in 7.62x54R, it first entered service in the year 891 M2." he spoke, giving a history lesson that I half-listened, more focused on the bowl of tanna in my hands. "This one was produced in the year 942 M2. Nearly every part of this weapon has been replaced or repaired, save for the receiver here. See the markings? The Serial Numbers and proof marks?" He turned the receiver of the weapon towards me and gestured to numbers and symbols pressed into the metal of the gun.
"With these I can tell you that this weapon was made in the Tula Arsenal in 942 M2, the bent bolt handle tells me this was a PU model. The scoped sniping model of this rifle. The long spear of the Red Army."
"So are you going to turn that relic in to the mechanicus as a peace offering?" I wagered, stirring my tanna.
" Frak no, Ciaphas, this guy is mine now. I can feel it, y'know. Old boy wants to be used, wants to keep fighting. The mechanicus would toss him into a vault and leave him to gather dust. No, weapons are meant to be used." He spoke, and the passion in his voice made me roll my eyes internally. It didn't help that Jurgen spoke up in agreement with him.
"He's got a point there, Sir." My aid spoke, adjusting the strap of his Melta.
"I'm just saying it might be a good idea since that Custodian of yours took a little off the top of Magos Ernulph." I replied, taking a sip of my tea, the delicate taste settling on my tongue.
"We're lucky Raya stopped there, she's within her rights to slaughter anyone even hesitating to get their asses onto the evacuation shuttles." David spoke, and I could see a few of the lines to the evacuation shuttles begin to shuffle on a little faster. Credit where credit is due, David could put the fear of the Emperor into someone when he wanted to, especially when such a grisly display was in full view of everyone and was given enough time to disseminate through the ranks.
-David POV, Hours later, Exterior perimeter.-
Fortifications were being built, trenches were being dug, artillery pieces were being set up despite my own protests that this place would be a crater soon. As I walked the immediate perimeter, I could see the eyes of the 597th Valhallan Artillery on me. Questioning, wondering who this youngster thinks he is. Soon enough I found myself standing in front of the amassed forces. I removed the Mosin from my back and began to speak, ignoring the stinging in my lungs and face from the frigid air.
"This is my rifle. There are many like it, but this one is mine." I spoke, voice echoing through the frozen hellscape. I matched eyes with the group of working men and women.
"My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I master my life." I continued, and I could see people straightening up, their voices joining mine in reaffirmation of the old oath.
"My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than the Enemy that is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. I will. " I continue, snapping to attention. Bringing my rifle to my side, something powerful joins my voice as I feel the eyes of the Emperor on me once more.
" My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother. I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my heart against damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We will. " My voice gains the volume of the Emperor's will, carrying throughout the battle and, I would later learn, even through the halls of the Exterminatus in orbit.
" By the Emperor I swear this Creed. My Rifle and Myself are the defenders of Humanity. We are the masters of The Enemy. We are the saviours of my Life."
" So be it. Until Victory is Ours, and there is no Enemy, but Peace!"
(Note From Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: The first of many future instances of David doing my job for me, not that I'm complaining.)
TLS
Blyat- Fuck
chertova voda!- Fucking Water
tovarishch (товарищ)- Comrade
stareyshina! (старейшина)- Elder
SLAVNAYA TSEL'! (СЛАВНАЯ ЦЕЛЬ!)- GLORIOUS PURPOSE!
Poshol Nahui, (Пошёл на хуй)- Fuck off, literally 'get on the dick.'
Chapter 14
The next incursion into the caves was…eventful to say the least.
"Fuckfuckfuckfuckfuckfuck, FUCK YOU, YOU THIRD-RATE MUSEUM CURATOR!" I shouted, blasting off a few shells at the only Necron to have a smirk etched on his face.
"How dare you! My collection is beyond compare!" Trazyn the Infinite. The galaxy's most notorious loot gremlin.
" Chinga su madre, Cabron!" - CH'KOOM -
Yeah, not my most eloquent of interactions with another being. To be fair, I did just fall down a frozen crevasse that gave way beneath my feet moments before. I ran in the opposite direction, boots scraping the ice beneath my feet as I fingered my comm-bead.
"Cain, get the frak back to the surface!" I snarled out, sliding under an outcrop of ice deeper into the tomb.
" You won't have to tell me twice, but why?" Cain's voice buzzed in my ear. I took in my surroundings for a moment. I could see the stasis units, all the one's that I could see were still filled, their occupants still hibernating.
"Good news, most of the Necrons are still asleep. Bad news: The one that is awake is one that shouldn't frakking be here !" I snarled out, hiding behind a piece of necron architecture.
" A single Necron?" I could hear the question in his voice, doubting the danger despite his own aversion to the undying Xenos.
"A Necron Overlord who has a habit of kidnapping notable figures, Mr. Hero of the Imperium."
"... Emperor speed your step, David." I ignored the crack in his voice as my comm-bead cut off and I began to try and find my way out of this tomb.
Cold metal and stone surround me. I move as quietly as possible, silently praying that I can slip by the Necron Overlord. I doubt it, I have a feeling he knows exactly where I am, yet he hasn't just ported me yet. I don't know why.
"So…What brings Professor Trazyn and his assistants Righty and Lefty to this cold locale?" I speak, my voice echoing off the frozen walls.
"My goals are beyond your understanding, human."
"Well, Gee, Sideshow Bob, that really clears things up." Sarcasm really rings off of centuries old ice. I was crawling low and slow, circling back to the ice cave and away from the tomb.
"Sideshow Bob…human fictional character from the early 21st century. You called me a museum curator, so that means you know who I am… intriguing." Ah shit.
I scrambled into a pile of snow as I heard the 'clank' of metal footsteps on stone. Watching as the Necron Overlord made his way to the center of the tomb, silhouetted against the backdrop of the warp gate.
"So tell me, human. Do I have the pleasure of speaking with another historian this day? Or are you simply a psyker listening to some abomination whispering in your ear?" He spoke, and a scarab decided that moment to fly right in front of my face. "Yes, I see you there. Please stand up, it's quite undignified speaking to a pile of snow."
With a groan I rose to my feet, shaking off the snow and sleet and patting the feeling back into my hands.
"I consider myself rather learned for the average human in the 41st millenium." I spoke, hands at my sides. "Mind if I ask a question of my own; Why haven't you woken your buddies here? Or are these fine folks friends of whatshisname…that one eyed fortune teller I've heard you've got beef with." I spoke, feigning calmness as I slowly paced back and forth, inching my way closer to the entrance of the ice cave.
"Orakin, the man's an absolute bore. I assure you." Trazyn replied, leaning on his staff in a relaxed posture, the scarab that spotted me flew back to his side, landing on his shoulder like a parrot on a pirate captain. "These poor fellows unfortunately are allied with him. So I'm not particularly inclined to wake them, despite your little pyrotechnic plan, Interrogator."
Welp, he knows who I am, that's concerning. Don't panic David, don't panic.
"Well, Professor Trazyn, Allow me to formally introduce myself. Interrogator David James Foothill, Ordo Xenos, at your service." I give a formal bow, silently thanking Vail for the etiquette lessons. "Now lets be honest…You're not really interested in anything here, otherwise the whole station would be added to your archive by now."
"It's a genuine pleasure to speak with a human who knows who holds the reins in our interactions. So many times it's just ' DIE FOUL XENOS!' " He spoke, his voice switching to some nameless Catachan warrior I assumed. It had the sound of such.
"Well, once the panic calmed down, I figured my best bet to walk away was either sneak past you, or keep you entertained enough to let me keep cooking to see how I change things up."
"You're doing an adequate enough job so far. Save for that initial blast. That was rather typical for a member of your species, I will admit." Trazyn spoke, observing the steel nails of his fingers absentmindedly
"I am a human being, Sir. Baptized in blood and War for the last ten thousand years. First instinct in general for most species, I've noticed, is to shoot first." My verbal riposte wasn't the most ringing endorsement, but it did earn a nod from the Overlord.
"You're not incorrect, young man. Intelligent conversation has been few and centuries between. These Tau try, but they forget their place, thinking their 'greater good' will survive more than a single millenia." He continued, before leaning forward and hitting me with his glowing green gaze, "But enough of that, Interrogator. I'm growing bored, and I'm sure my Inquisitorial display could use another addition."
"Oh but that would be a waste, Sir. I've got plans and the capabilities to put them into practice that will affect the 41st millennium as we know it." It was pure bullshit, but I could throw in enough of the ol' fire and brimstone southern preacher to make it seem convincing. Dad was a minister, Grandpa Juan was my Pastor, I picked up a few skills. And by the looks of things, it worked.
"Oh? Enlighten me then, Fleshling." Intrigue in his voice, or at least what I could figure through the metallic tinge.
"I've already destroyed a Daemon. Completely. Purified in holy light and fire. In doing so an entire world has been spared a chaos incursion that would have untoldrepercussions across the galax-"
"Wait, waitwaitwait- you're the human that Bore has been ranting about?! HA!" He laughs, laughs to the point of doubling over as he stamps his staff into the ground. It's an eerie experience seeing a being with no need for air feign gasping for recovery but he straightens up after a moment, gesturing with his hand in a 'go on, shoo' gesture.
"Run along now, Interrogator, consider it payment for ruining that brute's century. So long as you continue to cause him to rip his non-existent hair out, I will… delay on adding you to my collection. Make no mistake, Anomaly ." His voice goes from jovial teacher to cold machine in an instant. "One day, you will find yourself in my archive, whether it is as a guest, or a display….well, that just depends on my mood now doesn't it? Have a good decade, David. I'll have a few receptors on the lookout for you!" And with that, he vanishes in a flash of sickly green light.
I clambered my way back to the ice mine and tapped my comm-bead once more.
"Cain, Raya, Anybody Reading me?" I ask, leaning against the wall as a wave of exhaustion hits me. God Damn galactic loot gremlin.
"I read you, David. You're lucky you reached out, we were about five minutes from flooding the tunnels with promethium." Cain spoke, " The only reason we haven't is Lady Raya threatening to give a few overeager mechanicus the Ernulph Special."
"Yeah well prep to do that anyway. Because once I'm back up there we're blowing this place straight to hell. I'm going to get Vail to hit it with a few orbital strikes for good measure. The Necron Overlord is gone, the rest are still asleep, and if we want them to stay that way we need to make that sleep the Eternal kind." I speak, practically sprinting my way back through the maze-like tunnels, following the footprints of Cain and his squadron.
About an hour later, I exit the mines and meet Cain, Jurgen, and Raya. Alongside them is a veritable defensive line that would make the Imperial Fists proud. Lascannons, Multimeltas, sandbags, and a fireteam of veterans from the Valhallan 597th. Anya and Piotr are there, looking as if they were just spared the death sentence. Cain, having noticed my gaze, decides to clarify.
"The good Lady Raya was going to grant them the Emperor's Mercy if you didn't make it back in the next ten minutes." Okay, They were just spared the death sentence. I found my gaze drawn to the Amazonian Custodes in question.
"Would you mind… not executing my friends, Lady Raya?" I asked with a raised brow.
"You leave my sight for twenty minutes and end up in an altercation with The Collector, they needed to realize the cost of failure." She responds simply.
"Anything I can do to make you consider a teeny-tiny bit of mercy?"
"I want a new gun."
"Waht?"
"I. want. You. to. Make. me. A. gun. David. To start." She spoke, tapping my forehead with a massive finger. I could feel my eye twitching as I let out a long-suffering sigh. I turned to Cain.
"Let's just flood this place and blow it to kingdom come. I've had enough of this planet."
TLs:
Chinga su Madre: Fuck your mother.
Cabron: no real direct translation, often used as 'asshole'
Administratum Report IDJF1
-Externus Exterminatus, Debrief of Events on Simia Orichalchae between Interogator David James Foothill, Amberley Vail, and Lady Custodian Raya-
IDJF: So. That's the gist of it.
IAV: So, you abused inquisitorial authority. Got a high-ranking Mechanicus Official's head ripped off. Discovered another archeotech weapon, and used the fact that you were shunted into this millenium to avoid, and I quote 'becoming the crowning piece in "The average life of an Inquisitorial Idiot"'
IDJF: Also blew that promethium refinery to kingdom come, in addition to sweet talking Orelius into softening up the Orks with some orbital bombardment for Cain and the 597th.
IAV: I'm starting to think you enjoy adding years to your sentence, David.
IDJF: What did I do this time?! Only one useless bureaucrat died, the orks are dead, the Necrons are Dead-er, and I avoided getting yoinked by a the galaxy's most notorious kleptomaniac.
IAV: Lady Raya, would you mind enlightening your charge of his stupidity?
LCR: Gladly.
-A meaty thwack resounds as Lady Custodian Raya smacks the back of Interogator David James Foothill's head-
IDJF: OW FUCK!
LCR: You antagonized high ranking officials unnecessarily, you relied to much on your foreknowledge despite knowing that things have changed from the way you've seen them. Oh I wonder who else has fallen into that trap before, A certain Night Haunter, Perhaps? You drew the attention of a Necron Overlord that has one of my Brothers captive, and decided 'Oh, I'm going to make him laugh' and, you made me worry.
IDJF: Made you worry? You're a nine foot tall slab of genetically perfect muscle, how could I make you worry?
LCR: Worried for you, you idiot. You're confined to our quarters until you have my gun ready at least.
IDJF: Vail, she can't do that can she? Wait, our quarters?
IAV: She outranks us, David. In addition to that, I agree with her. Go to your room, child, the adults are talking.
LCR: I wasn't using my own room anyway. Now I don't have to hide when I watch over you.
IDJF: I...am a grown-ass man!
-The sound of a door closing as Interrogator Foothill Leaves the room-
LCR: He's adorable when he's sulking.
IAV: Do I want to know what you have planned for him behind closed doors?
LCR: That depends, would you join us?
IAV: No thank you, Lady Raya.
LCR: It's telling that your mind went to lewdity instead of tea.
Chapter 15
I was previously aware that Raya was always in some form of close proximity when we were on the Exterminatus. However. Now that I was confined to a single room with her, I was intimately aware that she was around.
Not that she was making any attempt to make my life easier at the moment.
" Yes, baby work the shaft~."
"God Damn it, Raya!" I was currently taking the measurements of her current weapon, the Custodes' signature bolt-lance. Trying to ignore the burning sensation on my face as the Amazon threw herself back laughing.
"I haven't had this much fun in centuries, David! You have to grant me this much at least." She teased, resting her chin on her fist as she smirked at me from her position on what used to be my bed. I placed the gun lance back in its resting place before responding.
"Well I'm certainly glad you're not the breed of custodians who see squishy humans like me as not much more than serfs." I spoke as I got to work drawing up designs. I was feeling a bit homesick at this point, so I decided I was going to make a lever-action design…but bigger. .75 cal was rookie numbers…we gotta pump it up. .950 JDJ. The Fat Mack. Scale up a bolt shell to fit the dimensions and move on from there…yeah. Now it's coming together.
"As if you wouldn't die happy being my serf, David." And there goes my train of thought. Damn you Slaanesh.
"I am a heterosexual adult male, and you're an attractive example of a genetically perfect human female. Not to mention your demeanor is sending enough signals to light up the astronomican." I shot back as I shook my head and got back to drawing out my designs.
"There's that sharp tongue of yours. If I wasn't on duty I would find a use for it."
"'On Duty' she says, as if she isn't doing her best impression of a house cat at the moment."
"This cat could still claw a fly in half in a tenth of a second should it annoy me." Not helping the cat accusations with that stretch, Raya.
I shake my head and turn back to my designs, continuing to draw things out. Okay, Marlin model of 1895, side ejecting side loading. Scale it up, swap out steel for adamantine-and those are Raya's arms around my chest and I feel her chin on my head.
"Ninety-Five calibre? Those are normally reserved for heavy bolters." She spoke, nestling herself to rest draped over me, I could feel two soft spherical objects pressing into my back, so I knew she removed her breastplate, and I could feel her hair framing my face.
"Y-yeah. I'm planning on making you a carbine…something a bit more maneuverable than your lance, but still heavy hitting." I muttered, pointing out the dimensions on the papers in front of me.
"How thoughtful. Manual operation?"
"Lever-action, more mechanically complicated than bolt but I don't have to worry about gas ports or recoil springs with this. Also…cowboy shit looks cool." I felt a grin grow on my face as I let myself relax a bit.
Things stayed like this for a bit, I would work, Raya would point at something and ask for clarification, and I would explain. It was a few hours, just there. Chatting, doing math. Occasionally Raya would take a few sips of tea that she had delivered to the room. I never cared for tea if it wasn't iced, but I could appreciate a decently brewed pot. The idle chatter was broken by Raya's tone of voice shifting from playful to a concerning amount of seriousness.
"David." She spoke, her arms tightening their grip around my chest. "You caused me an unnecessary amount of worry during your trip into the mines."
I let out a small sigh before I replied.
"And I apologize for that. I'll admit it, you were right, I grew overconfident in my foreknowledge thinking it would be a cake walk." I spoke, trying to trick myself into thinking the large finger rubbing circles on my chest was just Raya being idle.
"You have been placed into my care, David. You belong to me . You are not allowed to die." She spoke into my ear. Shivers went down my spine. Lord save me from strong willed women. A finger and thumb take hold of my jaw and turn my face towards her, and I'm met with hard green eyes and the face of a warrior who'd seen centuries of service. A Lady Custodes, addressing her charge with full authority.
"Do I make myself… perfectly clear, David?" Her eyes softened slightly as she spoke my name, but the tone was clear.
"Yes, Lady Raya…you know I'm going to try and keep my head attached to my shoulders."
"Do not try. David. Do. You're expected to serve out four centuries of service. I expect to see you through all of it." She spoke and I felt an eyebrow raise.
"Why do you care? You're supposed to see me through my supposed 'purpose' and return to Terra, are you not?" I asked, a spark of defiance entering my tone, causing her to giggle, her smile filling me with a sense of inhuman dread.
"Oh, *." She speaks, and a shiver shoots down my spine, her eyes seemed to shine with a possessive light. "Our Lord, The Emperor of Mankind, gave me the orders as such. ' You will be his shield, his protector as he serves us. And his executioner should he betray us.' There's no end date, David. You're mine, till death do us part~" Oh dear.
And that's how I realized Raya wasn't assigned to me. I was assigned to Raya.
As her Emperor mandated chew toy.
-Note From Lady Custodian Raya: I prefer the term Betrothed.-
-? POV, Days later.-
Papa was working on me. I didn't have a body yet, but Papa was working hard. Mama was watching over Papa, and Big Sister was in Mama's hands. Big Sister was stern. She spoke of duty and honor. How I would serve Grandpa with dignity and zeal. Teacher, who Papa always had on his chest, taught me how to listen, how to draw in the emotions and energy of the world.
I watched as Papa would convince Mama to let him leave the room, so he could make me. Uncle Yanbel was fun, he couldn't hear me yet. Papa worked for days. Adamantium and wood, he carved my stock by hand, fit for Mama's hands. My barrel, twenty-six inches of rifled fury, capped with an omni-directional muzzle brake reminiscent of Sister Boltgun. I was giddy, so close. So close!
It was another week before I was ready. Papa was in his and Mama's room, he prayed over me to the Carpenter.
"Lord…I come before you today, asking forgiveness for my failures, and requesting a blessing upon this weapon…Grant her the strength you have granted me, lord. Grant her the power to do her duty without fail, the power to fight on..until her duty is done. Grant her the patience so that her quarry may not bolt, and grant her peace, so that when her duty is done, she may rest without worry. Lord Christ Jesus, I pray, Amen." Papa spoke in a hushed whisper, and I felt the hands of the Carpenter in my chassis. A blessing.
Papa made me to protect Mama. Mama would use me to protect Papa. We were a family, and I will protect my family, even if I was a baby. I will be the best baby ever, I would not fail. I would not falter, not before the the green beasties or the sneaky stealers. I would fight the Xenie, the Beasties in the Warp, and I would protect Papa, Mama, Big Sisters Repentia and Vigil, Big Brother Grande and Teachers Dimitri, Magni, and Buddy.
" I am Terentia, and this I swear." I spoke to Daddy.
"...Raya…did you hear that?" Silly Daddy,
Mama can't speak machine.
Chapter 16
Terentia, the Foothill pattern heavy bolt carbine mk1.
She's a ninety-five caliber lever-action carbine with a twenty-eight inch fluted bull barrel fit with an Omni-Directional muzzle brake capped off with a wickedly spiked standoff device.
Now, you're probably asking, 'David, twenty eight inches is a rifle barrel length.' Yes. Yes it is. For a normal human. So while I can barely hold Terentia as she's a heavy chunk of adamantium and ironwood, Raya can twirl her around like a color guard with little to no issue. Compared to her near eighteen-foot gun-lance who goes by Vigil, I'm told, Terentia is positively compact.
Terentia has a capacity of nine plus one heavy bolter shells fed in a tubular magazine below the barrel. She's a side ejecting side loading model, and while I had some concerns with using pointed ammunition in a tubular magazine, test firing and drop testing proved to be perfectly safe even with a hot chamber. Her iron sights are peephole sights with a ramped front post with the capability of having optics added to her by virtue of being drilled and tapped for a scope base.
Overall, she's every bush hunters dream rifle.
"You flatter me, Papa!" Oh yeah…I can understand her. And I'm starting to pick up on the rest of the guns chatter too.
"Hey guey, that mechanicus culero Axiom has been giving you shit ammo, Jefe." My shotgun was giving me flashbacks to back home, but his little sister was nice.
"Dad! Grande keeps swearing!" Repentia, eager little firecracker. My older weapons kept mostly quiet I noticed. Save for my .45.
"It is good to finally speak to you, my friend." Was all he said before falling silent and returning to his vigil once more. I will admit, I had a bit of a freakout when I started hearing my guns fucking talk but I guess this is what the mechanicus must feel like.
Anyways. Back to Terentia. She was giggling as Raya ran her hands over her, getting a feel for her weight and the action.
"Faster, Mama, Faster!" Terentia giggled like a child, which, for being only a day or so old, would make sense.
"She's lighter than I expected for being composed of almost entirely adamantium." Raya spoke, bringing the carbine up to her shoulder and taking a firing stance.
"I carved off as much material as I could without compromising material strength. She's designed to work with high pressure AP and High Explosive rounds. I proofed her to Vengeance spec." I continued my explanation, watching as Raya ran the action in a split second and sent a round down range. The sound was like artillery going off with the primary charge, the hissing of the rocket filled the air for a moment before the impact and secondary charge rung the ears.
I had to hold my hat to my head with the rush of hot air that followed. Raya lowered the carbine with a smirk.
" Yes. This is an adequate engagement gift indeed."
"Mama, don't tease Papa! He's mortal, you'll break him!" At least one of them cares about my sanity.
Now the piece de resistance were some especially spicy pills I cooked up with Yanbel.
APHE. With an extra powerful primary charge they're leaving the barrel at over Thirty-Five-Hundred feet per second and accelerating once the rockets kick in. With a diamantine penetrator and a split second delay fuse, they're capable of punching through ceramite plate with ease, and adamantine plate with a straight shot. Auramite, I couldn't get my hands on, but I wouldn't bet against it. And with enough explosive mixture in the secondary charge to have Yanbel questioning my sanity, I expect that Raya will be able to blow a traitor marine clean in half.
Well. Maybe not clean.
Still, the grin on my face was wicked as I watched the fruits of my labor get placed down onto the range bench.
As I turned to leave the range my walk was stopped as a a soft set of lips graced my cheek followed by a whisper.
"Good Mortal."
Nope. Not dealing with this. I will admit I was probably doing my best impression of a tomato at this point but I got out of there, the sound of both Raya's and Terentia's giggling echoing behind me.
I met up with Yanbel in the workshop not long after, and decided to spill the beans.
"So…Yanbel, does every tech priest have conversations with their weapons or are mine particularly chatty?" I asked, and the normal hustle and bustle of the workshop froze.
Yanbel, who's normally in a constant state of motion, did his best impression of a statue, freezing still with even his mechadendrites refusing to move, until he slowly turned to face me.
"You…hear them, Interrogator?" He asked, voice in awed whisper. I could hear the adepts around us whispering amongst themselves, and felt the glare of a particular adept my shotgun had warned me about on my back.
"Yeah…I do."
" HERETEK !" The voice came from behind, Axiom. A younger tech adept fresh from Mars. A traditionalist. His mechadendrites were twitching, he held an accusatory finger in my direction. Yanbel came to my defense.
" STAND DOWN, ADEPT! " He roared, his vox sending my ears ringing for the second time today. "I have been lenient with you due to your inexperience, Axiom, but you are trying my patience." As he spoke he rose to his full height, towering over everyone gathered, his mechadendrites snapping irritably.
"Being unenlightened to the glory of the Machine God does not exclude one from being granted His Gifts, Adepts." Yanbel speaks, his tone turning professor-like. "Many of you were recruited into the Cult Mechanicus for having even an inclination of understanding the spirit of the machine. To declare David a heretek is folly."
"I refuse! He shirks the rituals and litanies that have served the Omnissiah for millennia! The only reasonable explanation that this layperson can possibly perceive the machine, is daemonic ." Axiom accused, his peers darted away from him, forming a circle around him, Yanbel and I.
Binaric Cant filled the room, a whole trial, evidence, counterpoints, and judgement occurring in the span of seconds. Yanbel, eyes hardening behind his implanted lenses, straightened himself to his full height once more before speaking.
"Axiom-249. For the crime of sabotage, sacrilege, defilement of holy munitions, and laying false accusations against a superior officer, you are sentenced to Servitude Imperpituis. Adepts…seize him."
The other adepts fell upon him like a red tide…and stripped the implants from his flesh with their hands.Binaric screams of pain and calls for mercy were left unheeded as I watched a mechadendrite get torn away, a chunk of bloody flesh on the end. They dragged him away into the depths of the Exterminatus, screaming.
"My apologies, for sullying a momentous occasion such as this with violence, David. A layperson uninitiated into the Cult Mechanicus hearing the voices of the Machine is almost unheard of…David, I must implore you, to please consider making the pilgrimage to Holy Mars. If your capabilities are this wondrous whilst untrained, I hesitate to imagine what you'd be capable of garbed in the red robes of the Mechanicus." As Yanbel spoke, he lowered himself to look me in the eye, one of his hands coming down to rest on my shoulder. Yanbel my friend, if you think I'm going to join after watching what just happened, you have another thing coming.
"You've given me a lot to think about, Yanbel…trust me, I'll give it the full consideration it's due."
Chapter 17
"What do you mean I'm confined to quarters again?!" I asked, slightly exasperated at the Inquisitor and Custodian.
"Not completely, but yes. Outside of your duties and lessons for your responsibilities as an Interrogator. Including proper interactions with the many factions within the imperium and abroad. To be quite frank, David, if I allow you free reign of my ship I'm quite certain you'll find a way, whether you mean to or not, to stir the ship itself into a crusade." Vail spoke, sipping a cup of recaf whilst looking over a spread of dataslates on her desk. I pointedly ignored Raya's sultry whisper.
"Oh goody, a honeymoon ." That she purred directly into my comm-bead as Vail continued.
"I've received a priority dispatch to an Ice World known as Signalis IV, it is in the Segmentum Tempestus. Surveyors have come across ruins that they fear are xenos in origin. You will be accompanying me as I conduct the investigation to observe. Until then; Lady Raya, I will trust Interrogator Foothill to be in fighting shape when we arrive?"
I felt a severe shiver run down my spine as Vails office was filled with a hearty chuckle amplified by the vox in Raya's helmet.
" I'm sure he'll be able to walk by then. " She purred. I slowly turned to face Vail hitting her with a deadpan stare.
"You do realize what you're sentencing me to, yes, Inquisitor?" I asked as a large shadow was cast over my form.
"Do enjoy your honeymoon, David. Maybe by the time we get to Signalis IV Lady Raya will have pulled that stick out of your rear." The words were said with a smirk and a wave as I was dragged out of the office.
—
Contrary to what her demeanor in the office was signaling I was not immediately set upon by a predatory centuries old virgin. I was allowed to sit at my desk for a bit in peace, double checking my weapons and disarming myself, leaving my shoulder rig and chest plate on the center of my desk.
"I have a question, David." Raya spoke, once again lounging on the bed. "Why do you pray to the Catheric God? You know that if any of our compatriots realize you're a 'heretic' even I would be hard pressed to fight the entire Inquisition." Huh, well this conversation was delayed longer than I thought it would be.
I turned on my seat to face her, I thought about it for a moment before speaking.
"Allow me to introduce myself properly, then. Lady Raya, I am * * As of this year I am 26 Terran years old, I am the son of a Minister of the Faith in Christ Jesus, the Grandson of an Elder Pastor of the Apostolic Assembly, and I myself have a degree in Theology." I began, leaning back in my chair and lacing my hands together in front of me.
"Growing up, I simply went through the motions, being obedient to my parents so that I wouldn't rock the boat. Never took it seriously until I was about sixteen years old, when I was beat to death." The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as I saw Raya stiffen, eyes snapping to mine.
"Yeah…I was staying at a friend's house in the bad part of town, a party. Was only supposed to be for a night, a buddy and I were walking back from a convenience store, getting snacks, when we got jumped." I let out a mirthless chuckle thinking about it.
"Six cholo motherfuckers decided they wanted the forty bucks in my wallet because I was the 'rich white kid'. My buddy Adrian told 'em to pound sand, and they didn't take kindly to that. At this point, I weighed maybe a hundred ten-hundred twenty pounds, and while I could throw a punch or an elbow alright, when six two hundred pound culeros decide they want blood. Well, four fractured ribs, fractured eye socket, and a cracked skull." As I speak I point at a scar on my face, mostly hidden by my left eyebrow, and turn to point at a surgery scar on the back of my head, also mostly covered by my hair.
"Adrian and I got rushed to a hospital after a cop car passed by and saw us getting beat. I was unconscious at this point, but by the time I got to the hospital, I needed immediate care."
"While on the slab, I died for seven minutes."
I took a shaky breath, hated talking about this but I persisted.
"What I saw during those seven minutes, that's between me and God. But He told me then, that if I kept on as I was, I would not be Saved. And I took that to heart."
"Scared the shit out of my surgeon when I woke up with my head peeled open. They knocked me back out, and when I came to next. They were saying I wouldn't walk, that I'd have trouble speaking, that I'd be plagued with headaches for the rest of my life." I leaned back in my chair and laced my hands behind my head with a smirk
"I had sporadic nosebleeds and balance issues for about six months, but outside of that, I'm hale and hearty. Nary a migraine to be had. Last checkup I had, Doc said it looked like it never happened, save for the scars on my skin."
"Y'see, that's why I keep going forward in faith…and it's paid off. I've survived war that I'm not trained for, I've cast out daemons, I've been able to open my ears to the words of machines. So yeah. Even here, Thirty-Eight Thousand years after the Rapture, I will hold my faith, because I need every Miracle I can get."
The room was quiet for a moment as I let my eyes drift shut, not gonna lie, felt good to get that off my chest. The guns were silent, Raya was quiet, until I heard a rustle and felt myself get pulled into a hug that I wouldn't have expected from a Custodian.
"Didn't I tell you that you're not allowed to die?" She snarked, I let out a scoff.
"That order was Retroactive, Lady Custodian?"
"Yes indeed, Lord Interrogator."
The rest of the night was a rather quiet venture, I vaguely remember talking about nonsense and falling asleep being used as a human teddy bear.
-500 years added to sentence of Interrogator Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Heresy-
-Record Sealed by order of Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, Note: Don't say I've never done anything for you, Nerd.-
—
When we reached Signalis IV two weeks later I was walking with a limp through reason of Raya and had decided to forgo my shotgun for this Soirée. I met Vail by the shuttle alongside Anya, Piotr, Triton and Soline. Another Ice World… yay.
Vail seemed to be more interested in Raya who was following behind me at the moment.
"Is she…glowing?" Vail asked, I shook my head.
"She's just smiling that much. Howdy folks." I greeted with a smile and a wave.
"Mama and Papa were wrestling." Terentia giggled, I held my eye back from twitching as I heard Vail's Bolt Pistol giggle knowingly.
"It is good to see you more relaxed, Father. Without so much stress on your shoulders, we shall purge the xenos even more effectively!" Sister Penance, she called herself, and she certainly sounded like a true-blooded sister of battle.
Vail brought my attention back to the flesh and blood companions I would be traveling with.
"We are going to be exploring a set of ruins dated to pre-Heresy, Interrogator, I expect you to conduct yourself as befits your station, that goes for all of you. The explorators are already aggravated by us getting primary entry, I do not need another diplomatic incident." Vail spoke, switching back to professionalism in a split second. Anya and Piotr quickly snapped to attention, Triton and Soline simply gave bows of acknowledgment.
"I will do my best, Lady Inquisitor." I stated simply, getting a nod from Vail as we piled into the shuttle.
The ride was rather quiet, all things considered, the landing zone gave us a view of the ruins that we were to be exploring.
They didn't scream out xenos to me, but I guess the explorators wanted to play nice with the Inquisition. Concrete walls cracked from eons of war, war and tear, and just time.
Nary a word was said whilst we're on the surface, the temperature above was even worse than Simia Orichalchae, even breathing was painful. So when Triton coaxed the main doors open we all rushed inside.
"The Explorators are being held back until we can verify the safety of this ruin. We will be splitting into two groups, Piotr, Soline, you will be going with David and Raya. Triton, Anya, you will be accompanying myself. David, if you manage to try and get this ruin to try and kill us, I'll convince Lady Raya to not hold back." With that final threat accentuated with a poke to my chest, I raised my hands in surrender and we split.
To be completely honest it was a perfectly boring mission. Sure we were on guard, but with Triton comming us fifteen minutes in with
"The security spirits have been appeased."
It was a rather heavy weight lifted off our shoulders. The ruin was obviously human at this point, considering I could read the script on the walls. Plain English, which was a pleasant surprise. I was able to guide the party without much issue.
Oh! Hangar! And an Armory! Come to Papa!
"Vail, this is David, discovered locations of interest." I reported before waiting, my comm-bead buzzed a second later.
" Acknowledged, moving to rendezvous, dead end on this end." Vail's voice buzzed in my ear as I got Soline to coax the doors of both locations open. I'm about to give Trazyn a run for his money with the amount of kleptomania coursing through my veins…wait a goddamn minute.
"Is that my truck?!" I exclaimed, laying eyes on four wheels I thought I'd never see again. It had been painted white, but I could recognize the custom bumper and cow-catcher anywhere. My license plate was gone, but the headache rack and everything else were identical. I ignored the calls of surprise from Piotr and Soline as I dug around in my pockets, I still carried my keys as a memento, but damn didn't think I would ever use em again.
The door 'click'ed unlocked and my grin went Feral. I inserted my keys into the ignition, said a quick prayer, and turned.
" TEEEEEEN THOOOOOUSAND YEEEEEARS WILL GIVE YOU SUCH A CRICK IN THE NECK!"
….thank you God.
"DAVEY! How you doing buddy? Man have I got some shit to tell you about!" My truck was a bit of a chattermouth, and had the voice of my childhood. I was grinning like a loon even as I stepped out of the cab to take a proper look at it.
Ford Ranger, '03, it used to be a V6 but I could smell promethium burning so I'm guessing at some point in the last thirty eight thousand years Bubba here was upgraded.
"I've been running around all over the place, Davey! Some big lunk in Gold armor showed up, I got put on a boat, then a spaceship, they gave me a gun! MY GUN! Davey buddy to gotta find my gun! He's around here somewhere, I tell ya, he's a cantankerous old thing but you don't want anyone else in a foxhole with you I tell you what."
"Don't you worry, Bubba, we'll get you fixed up right." I spoke, before turning to Soline. "Soline, look around for a pintle mount matched to this vehicle. It shouldn't be far, I'm going to check out the armory. If my hunch is correct…we're gonna have a fun time. Piotr, please help her out." I ordered with a smile.
Raya accompanied me, as always, to the Armory, En route we were caught up with Vail, Anya and Triton. Vail, seeing my feral grin, immediately let out a groan.
"Emperor above what relic did you find now?" She asked, exasperated.
"I found my truck, and he pointed me this way to get his gun. And I can already hear said gun." I spoke, the smile never leaving my face as we entered the armory.
"Son, you'd best be telling me I hear what I think I'm hearin'." A deep bass filled voice tinged with age, a spark of hope in its inflection. "Well get this rag off of me, Boy! Don't leave me hanging!"
I acquiesced, pulling the tarp off of something I would've killed for before I got pulled into the 41st millennium.
The Browning M2 .50 caliber machine gun, a short recoil operated air cooled machine gun designed in 1922 by John Moses Browning. I hefted the gun in my hands and hurriedly made my way back to the hangar.
"David, you can't just-" Vail
"Too late, doing it anyway!"
"Atta boy."
-Ten years added to sentence of David James Foothill, Charge: insubordination.-
Soline had already gotten the pintle mount reinstalled onto the bed of the truck by the time I got back, and I immediately got to work.
Bubba, my truck, was ecstatic.
"You did it Davey! That there's Patton, he worked with your great granddaddy back in the day." He spoke as I got the .50 mounted onto the pintle, it was mounted with the barrel sticking over the cab of the truck, and once I got the final lynchpin installed, I pulled back the charging handle on Patton with a resounding CHK-CHK.
"You're Jim's Boy?" The old machine gun asked as I popped his top cover off and inspected his feed tray.
"About three generations down but yeah, Old Timer." I spoke as I stepped back an idea spawning in my head as I saw the amount of free space left in the back of the truck.
"What do you think, Inquisitor? Think I can fit another pintle mount in the back? I'm thinking a storm bolter…" I spoke, acknowledging Amberley who had come to observe my mad fervor. She rubbed her chin for a second before responding.
"Two gunners, or one very skilled gunner and it'd be viable." She spoke, intrigue in her tone now that she saw that I was in my element.
"No…Heavy Storm Bolter. .95 cal, like Terentia." I muttered, image forming in my mind. I could hear Terentia giggling at Raya's side.
"Papa's gonna make us a Brother, Sister Penance!"
"Indeed, Little Sister." Oh shush you two.
With a plan in mind, I made my way into the drivers seat.
"What'd they fit you with, Bubba? I doubt you got through the heresy without some kind of armor." I asked, looking around the inside. Glovebox was empty, center console was empty too. Damn.
"Well, I'll tell ya Davey, I'm running a full eight cylinder promethium engine, I needed the extra horsepower, because those Thunder Warrior fellas. Sheesh were they heavy." Bubba spoke, "I've got three thousand pounds of armor under the paneling, buddy, had my suspension upgraded so now I can haul with the best of 'em."
I felt a my grin grow just a bit bigger.
"Really said 'Built Ford Tough' huh?" I joked before leaning my head out the window, "Raya, Honey, would you mind manning the machine gun? Inquisitor, hop in as well, please." Raya's smile lit up her face at the public affection, and Vail just seemed happy to get off her feet as I let her into the passenger side door.
"So, Foothill, two more relics, not counting what else isn't nailed down in this place. I should loan you to the Salamanders at this point. Primarch Vulkan would return in a week." She smirked as she leaned back in her chair.
"Remember what happened last time you predicted something like that, Amberley?"
"Why yes, I got you married. You're welcome."
Chapter 18
Mounting a second pintle to the back hitch of Bubba wasn't that difficult. The difficult part was designing the heavy bolter that burned its way into my mind and didn't want to compromise.
"Young buck's an ornery little fella ain't he?" Bubba quipped as I was hunched over a workbench, sketching out blueprints in the hangar of the Exterminatus. Yanbel, ever eager to observe archeotech and the rather unique personalities of such.
"The Omnissiah has blessed the machine spirit with perseverance, honored elder." He spoke, and I let out a chuckle.
"Are all my kids going to be stubborn guns? Is this my life now?" I asked the wall before shaking my head.
Rakel had taken a liking to hiding in the back of the cab, and stuck her head out of the rear window.
"Are you certain you would want a mini-Raya running around, David?" She spoke, and I whirled to face her with an accusatory finger,
"Do not put that evil on us, Woman! The last thing this ship needs is a pregnant Custodian, I know they're sterile but I don't want to tempt the blue fucker." I spoke, earning a maddened cackle as she retreated back into the cab.
"Davey, buddy, you still gotta tell me more, you finally got hitched? C'mon pal, give me the details!" I swear I could see Bubba bouncing on his wheels like something out of Cars.
"Bub, let the boy work, we need someone to cover our six and we ain't getting any younger." Patton spoke up, chastising the excited pickup he was mounted to. With Bubba resigning himself to grumbles of nagging me later I was able to return to my designs. Yanbel had made his way over to the workbench.
"….David, this is a concerning amount of adamantium." HA, finally got him to break.
"I don't have to worry about weight constraints with a pintle mounted platform. Sides, if my math is right, he shouldn't weigh more than Patton."
"My concerns are for the mass-production of this model, David, the only munitorums with this capability would be Holy Mars and the Salamanders themselves." He explained and I raised an eyebrow.
"Well then at least I know it'll be in good hands, now won't I?" I snarked before chuckling with a wave of my hand, "besides this is just the initial draft, I'll trim the fat before we get to the manufacturing portion."
"You have dimensions here for separate barrels…40mm?" Yanbel inquired, I pointed to another set of papers with ammunition designs.
"The action itself is essentially a double barreled MK 19 Mod 4, with a belt swap and a barrel change we can have a fully automatic grenade launcher capable of launching 40mm munitions…a 42 round belt of Krak grenades and anything short of a tank is pink mist and scrap metal."
"Two bolts cycling at 450 rounds per minute leading to a cumulative fire rate of 900 rounds per minute." Yanbel mutters, going through the math.
"With the flip of a switch allowing the rate reducer to be disabled we can kick that up to a cumulative rate of 1200 RPM."
"1500 rounds per minute, actually, if my math is correct, David." Yanbel corrected me, and I went through the math myself once again,
"You're right, thank you Yanbel…good Lord we're making a Buzzsaw of a gun." I whispered, looking over the designs, Patton chose this moment to speak up.
"1500 RPM of .95 caliber HE bolt shells…and I thought Jim was off his rocker."
—
"What exactly is this… cannon you built, David?" Inquisitor Vail asked as she observed the massive weapon currently mounted on a tripod in the firing range.
With a grin I pulled the bolt handle back and a simultaneous CH-CHUNK rang out through the range.
"This here is the Helldrake Pattern Heavy Storm Bolter. He goes by Drake. And we're about ready to test fire him." I spoke calmly, hauling over a few linked belts of specially prepared test ammunition.
"C'mon Pop, lemme at 'em!" Drake called out as I linked in the two belts.
"Drake is a short recoil operated double barreled belt fed fully automatic bolt weapon, weighing in at about 88 pounds with the tripod and about 72 without, he's a chunky boy, but can still be hefted by either one determined grunt or, preferably, two people. He's designed for use on stationary defensive positions or on vehicles, so man portability wasn't something I prioritized." I spoke quickly, slamming the top cover of his feeding tray down with his primary munitions ready to load.
"He's fitted with two munitorum standard .95 caliber barrels each clocking in at about 45 inches in length with slight modification to allow for quicker barrel changes. In addition to this, he's capable of swapping to two 16 inch 40mm barrels to allow for more area of effect engagement. Overall…he's my boy. Can't really put it better than that."
"Love you too, Pop, now quit yanking my chain and let some rounds loose let's go!" I let out a chuckle as o charged him and stepped away from the weapon, gesturing for Vail to step up.
"Would you do the honors, Lady Inquisitor?" I offered, Vail feigned flattery before stepping up and taking hold of the grips.
"I really do need to get some old-fashioned xenos purging done more often. I forget how fun machine guns are." She quips before she lets loose with the test rounds, the concussion blasts her hair back but the feral grin on her face as the secondary detonations of the bolt munitions go off tell me all I need to know.
"So, you'll be mounting this to that relic speeder of yours?" Vail asks, standing up and fixing her mussed hair. I nodded.
"Oh yes. With Drake here mounted on the rear pintle, I'll have three-sixty degree coverage on all sides of the truck. With Anya and Piotr manning the guns, I can drive and still have space for two or three passengers in the cab, not counting remaining space in the bed." I explained, moving to inspect Drake. It looks like he handled the proof loads fine.
"Five months of effort for a Gun Truck?" Vail queries, a tinge of doubt in her tone.
"Vail you gotta understand, Bubba survived service through the Unification Wars and the Heresy. Patton has been fighting wars since 1939, even longer than Dimitri, with this young buck bringing up the rear, and me pulling as much as my Pa's racing days out of my genome as I can muster, I'll be giving the White Scars a run for their money."
" I'm sure they would love to take you up on that challenge, Little Smith." Brother Venters spoke, entering the range, and I felt a grin grow on my face once more. Venters had throughout this project provided assistance, and was part of why I named Drake as I did.
"Ah, Brother Venters, here to see the fruits of our labor?"
"Heya Uncle V!"
"Show some respect, Child!" Venters Boltgun was the epitome of an Imperial Space Marine in weapon form, although he seemed to have a twelve foot rod stuck in his chamber.
" No need, I could hear the test fire. It functioned without issue?" He asked and I nodded, darting over to the bench and picking up a data slate. I mulled over this for a while before coming to the test fire, but I owed it to Venters. I walked up to the Space Marine and offered the slate.
"Technical data and accurate blueprints for manufacture. A gift to the Salamanders for the work they do and the effort you've put in for the development of this weapon, m'lord. If any of His Angel's will make good use of this, I'm sure the sons of Vulkan will." Silence reigned for a few moments before Venters, almost reverently takes the dataslate from my hands.
" This is no small gift, David." He speaks, and it's the first time he's used my name. I nod resolutely.
"We have sixty-seven years, almost sixty six now, until the Despoiler kicks his crusade into high gear. I need allies, Brother Venters. And I can't think of any more worthy than the sons of Vulkan." I speak carefully, eyes locked on the red lenses of Venters' helm.
With measured slowness, he brings his one of his hands up to remove his helm, tucking it under his arm and matching my gaze. Charcoal grey skin, blazing red eyes that held a softness of their gene-father's kindness. Venters was old. I could see the wrinkles in his face and neck amidst aggressive burn scarring on the left side of his face. He lays an armored hand on my shoulder.
"You would have been a good Brother, Little Smith. I will make sure these plans get where they need to go. When you call, Interrogator David James Foothill, the sons of Vulkan will answer." He speaks, and without the distortion from his helm, I can just about hear him reminiscing about Andy Dufresne.
"And when the Salamanders need aid, I will bring as much as I can muster." I speak, determination burning in my breast.
"So mote it Be."
—
Two weeks after this, the officers of Vail's Retinue were called to her office. It seems we had received further orders.
"We are being assigned to Periremunda. There's been reports of Genestealer activity, amongst other things. We are being tasked to investigate. David, you will be acting in my stead on the ground." Vail spoke, and I was about to object when she rose her hand to cut me off.
"I understand that I employed Cain in the memoirs you've read, however the situation has changed. While we will be rendezvousing with the Valhallan 597th, I will not be using Cain as my figurehead. You need to learn how to conduct a proper Inquisitorial investigation, consider this a field test."
"You sure picked one hell of a field test, Ma'am." I grumbled, crossing my arms as Venters let out a hearty laugh.
" Not to worry, Little Smith, I will be accompanying you groundside. This will be a fine opportunity to test out your blend of relics and wargear."
"…it seems we walk into battle much more prepared this time, Master David."
Yeah, Bud…that it does.