There were many questions that sprung to my mind, most of them filled with gibbering terror. She had been the Inquisitor all along?! Oh Frak… I'd called her a member of The Emperor's Pet Psychopaths to her face! Was that going to get me in trouble? But Orelius was a Rogue Trader, shouldn't it have been him?! How by the Throne had an Inquisitor learned how to sing like that?! What had they been doing here that got one of them shot? Was anyone else injured? Were Inquisitors allowed to date? Did she expect any hostiles to be hot on their heels? Some of those were very good, very pertinent questions. However, in my panic, I blurted out the very last question I had, something she'd said which confused me.
"Pain in the wrist?" I asked, staring at her and trying not to think about how I'd just discovered that I appreciated a woman in power.
Amberley snorted at my incredulous look. "I spent the better part of four months filing the paperwork after I helped integrate the Eldar. I was the nearest Inquisitor, and it fell to me to figure out what to do."
Ah, that explained that. God-Emperor alone, besides Amberley and whatever minions(1) she had helping her, knew how much paperwork such a thing must have required. And knowing the Administratum, they no doubt wanted it all in triplicate, requiring the complete deforestation of a small planet in order to produce enough paper for it all. Still, I think the Eldar had so far proved worth the effort. "I hope that it went well, and the rest of your organization was as accepting…"
Amberley shrugged, suggesting that it was out of her hands. "Fifteen thousand Tarots were performed across this Segmentum alone. All of them demanded the same thing, integration." She replied; though from her tone of voice I got the impression that even with all of that it still hadn't been an easy sell to convince people that the Eldar should be accepted as Imperial citizens(2).
"Oh… that's… good." I answered, floundering for anything else to say. Of course by the sour look on Amberley's face, I hadn't entirely said the correct thing. Could an Inquisitor put you out in the canid habitat even if you weren't personally involved with them?
"The Xenos Hybris have been gloating non-stop!" She groaned wretchedly, placing her head in her hands. "'I told you! I told you so! You said I was a step from Heresy, but look at that! The God-Emperor welcomes them!'" She mocked in a whiny falsetto voice. Throne damnit, even when she was purposefully being irritating with it, I could listen to her voice for hours.
"I thought there were only three Ordos." Jurgen questioned, a puzzled look on his face. I twitched slightly, keeping my face stoic. Damnit Jurgen! An average Guardsman shouldn't know that much about the Inquisition, which means Amberley would likely know I'd told him about it(3)! Fortunately, she didn't seem to be troubled or offended by my aide's knowledge, or his question.
"It's a sub-faction within the Inquisition as a whole; there are indeed three Ordos Majoris and countless Ordos Minoris." She replied in a slightly lecturing tone, and I couldn't help but picture her dressed as a Schola teacher complete with glasses and severe hairstyle (4). "The Hybris are scattered throughout all of them. They think that we should learn from the Xenos, and work with them…"
"I bet they'd love to meet the Commissar." Jurgen interrupted, in his mind helpfully providing insight.
"They've gotten into a debate as to whether or not to get the High Lords to offer him some grand reward, like a Warrant of Trade!" Amberley groaned in dismay, and I imagine if it weren't damaging to her dignity as an Inquisitor she'd likely have thrown her hands up in exasperation.
Well, I would admit that such an offer was tempting, but the Commisiarant would likely have my head if I accepted it(5). After everything got settled, Amberley introduced her retinue to me; as it turned out, Orelius was 'just' a Rogue Trader, and not an Inquisitor. Her pet Psyker was still unconscious, and hopefully she'd listen to my threatening plea to keep her lips sealed. The fellow dressed as a scribe was a savant of some kind; a very useful friend to have for counting cards as I'd find out during my long association with the fellow, who was named Mott. He also had augmetic legs to help him run away better. Needless to say, the two of us got along swimmingly. Then we went our separate ways, Jurgen and I back to the regiment and Amberley and her retinue off to whatever the frak it is Inquisitors do. But I had a feeling I'd see her again; I just didn't realize how very soon that would be.
We made it back to HQ with minimal fuss, the entire regiment. Not a single serious casualty for our first combat operation as the 609th; it seemed a miracle, one many attributed to a certain troublesome Lieutenant I'd been keeping my eye on. When I congratulated her on a successful mission that saw all her troopers returned reasonably safely, she beamed as though I'd personally pinned the Star of Terra on her. With what seemed to be genuine humility, Sulla claimed that she just did what she thought I'd do(6), which according to the after action reports apparently involved copious amounts of risk. When people like Sulla attribute virtue to myself, I simply smile and nod; it just goes to show how very few people truly knew me, assuming there was anything to know behind all the lies and damnation. Even Broklaw, who'd butted heads with her more than once, was impressed by her performance. It would be the start of her reputation amongst the regiment of undoubtedly going far in the Guard, assuming she didn't get herself killed before then(7), though exceptionally few expected her star to rise as high as it has. I'll admit, these days even I'm reluctantly impressed by Sulla; at least she risks herself rather than her soldiers in the pursuit of glory.
After a debriefing with the Lord General, Donali, and the other officers of the 609th since they'd been the ones conducting the operation, I was allowed a moment of leave. I was tired, still in shock at Amberley being the Inquisitor, and desperately needed a boost after using so much warpcraft earlier. Degeneracy had become better than recaf for me; I was tempted to go straight to the source but really didn't want to dip into the Warp again and risk running into my Patron. The Governor's Palace would have been a close second, but there was still that tiny little detail of him wanting me arrested. The noble quarter was also in ruins from the riots and the PDF response to them. So I settled for finding the most debauched feeling officer's club within the headquarters, the sort of place only the vainglorious fools go to in order to pump up their own egos and plan how they'd achieve accolades through the spilt blood of their soldiers. It wasn't nearly as filling as the other places I could have gone to, but it did the trick as I stepped inside and breathed deeply. There were few officers there, and all of them were too drunk to notice my presence even as I silently gobbled up the excess from the room; it was a club that was part of a military base, did everything really need to be gilded? I got the impression that if Zyvan saw the waste of resources here, he'd soon have it shut down and be handing out demotions to those who frequented it.
I ended up grabbing myself a bottle of expensive looking amasec, finding myself an empty table in the corner to brood at. And I was definitely in a brooding sort of mood. I took a large and wasteful swig straight from the bottle, and let the act of excess further empower me. Not that being empowered by such did my mood any favors, as it just reminded me that I was a miserable ball of heresy trying to stay hidden right under a frakking Inquisitor's nose. The bottle was nearly a third empty when I carefully slammed it back down onto the table after that first swig. FRAK! When did my path become like this?! Was I just some cosmic joke?! Here I was, a Daemon Prince, not only within spitting distance of an Inquisitor but pining after her like a lovesick juvie! I just wanted to bask in her beauty and faith and not think of anything else, even though being around her risked Amberley discovering my true nature. Emperor help me if she decided my presence was enough to declare the planet lost and order an Exterminatus! But… No. Frak no. No matter what, I'd sworn not to let the innocent and faithful suffer due to my own damnation. If something like an Exterminatus or a purge of the populace was declared due to my being here, then I'd surrender myself to stop it. My cover and freedom wasn't worth a planet of innocents. As I pondered my issues, the one who caused them appeared, sashaying across the room from the door to my table. And damn me further if I wasn't happy to see her despite the aforementioned reasons why I should keep my distance.
"May I sit with you?" Amberley asked softly, with just the right tremor in her voice to indicate concealed nervousness. Not that I bought the act, she was an Inquisitor after all and I was an experienced hand at playing a role myself. Also not like I really had a choice, as refusing a member of the Inquisition was not on my to-do list. She'd changed clothes, now wearing a sensible if attractive dress in the blacks and reds commonly associated with many Imperial institutions, including my own and the Inquisition. I sniffed the air and caught the fragrance of Callium and Hegantha flowers floating about her. Well even if I didn't really have much choice, she was offering attractive and alluring company. I motioned to my side, and she gently sat down, ordering something when the sole waiter of the club came over. I quickly finished the bottle I'd procured, and ordered another. My Aquila clinked against my chest as I sat back in my chair, staring at the source of my obsession and predicament even as she stared right back with every sign of fascination.
"You are a remarkable man, Commissar." She mused, smiling at me in a full-on charm offensive as she buttered me up like a game fowl set to be served up for the Emperor's Day feast. "One who has caused a lot of change in the past year alone." I had to resist the urge to snort, since if she truly knew even the least of it, the Cyclonic Torpedoes would already be launching now.
"Thanks… I'm just trying my best." I added truthfully, taking the second bottle with relish. My best, of course, to not be revealed as a heretic on par with some of the worst fiends of the galaxy.
"The humble hero routine?" Amberley stated calmly, causing me to spit out my alcohol in shock. "What's next? That you're just doing your job? That we all have a part in The Emperor's plan?" I just gave her a look of shock. Oh frak me, was she a Psyker also?! Was she reading my mind?! Before I could really panic, her smile widened and turned teasing, a mischievous look in her eyes. "Oh relax, I'm pulling your leg." Pulling it and seeing me almost exactly for the man I was; before I'd bought the Darkstone, at least. Truly, a dangerously insightful woman who could peer past my mask just a little bit. Part of me may have welcomed it, being seen for who I was back before my damnation. Now though, if she saw what I was… I could almost hear the lance batteries firing until the planet's skies caught fire.
There was silence between us for a long moment, before Amberley's smile faded and she reached out to take the hand not holding my amasec in hers. Her voice was comforting, encouraging, and I imagined that she could talk a man even half as obsessed with her as I was into marching happily to their doom. Her words were seemingly so simple, yet something I knew I could not do. "You could just be yourself, you know."
I paused, and slowly put down the bottle. Did she have any karkking idea just what she was asking of me? Unless her Psyker told her, but as far as I knew she was still out of it. It took everything I had to not just start crying at the thought, to beg for the planet. What was my mortal form, when I knew I'd just get thrown back into reality at some point in the future? Even so, how I desired to spill all my secrets for her to take and make her own, surrendering myself to her mercy.
Amberley continued speaking, tone still kind and reassuring, as if I was some startled woodland creature who might dart away into the underbrush; she had no idea that she was the prey animal in this scenario, that she sat with a predator capable of consuming all that she was. "If you're wondering if I'm a Psyker, I'm not. I wouldn't be able to stand near your aide if I was."
Finally I broke my silence, snorting as I poured some amasec into the glasses the waiter had left behind. "Tell your barmy Psyker to try harder. Illric stands by Jurgen just fine." I grumbled, trying to calm myself as the amber liquid sloshed into my glass. My unexpected companion just hummed, looking at me searchingly.
"Illric Nightspear. The most famous Ranger in the Galaxy, the one who knows more trails in the Webway then any other Eldar save the Harlequins; you have an interesting way of picking out friends."
Huh, I suppose Illric really was all that he was cracked up to be. "Just luck, I suppose." I said, shrugging with what I hoped was a nonchalant air. No ma'am Miss Inquisitor, nothing interesting about this member of the Commissariat, kindly move along. Of course she didn't buy the humble act, raising a brow in amusement.
"Oh really? Luck, like tying the Eldar to the God-Emperor? That sort of luck."
"That was a genuine accident." I grumbled some more, swishing my drink around in its glass. "I was just bargaining for the planet with a soulstone, but She Who Thirsts felt that the fate of an entire world was too little for such a thing. The Dark God of Fuck You literally decided to tack it on, probably to tempt the Eldar to make the choice between their pride and freedom." I should probably have kept my lips shut, but frak it, as an Inquisitor she'd already have access to the reports I'd already submitted about Slawkenberg, incomplete as they were.
The other eyebrow raised, this time in incredulous surprise. "So one of the Ruinous Powers just… handed you the fate of an entire species?"
I nodded in response; now she was getting it! I didn't plan these things, they just frakking happened without so much as a 'by your leave'! "Yep. I didn't intend for them to join us, it just turned out that way."
Amberley cocked her head, gorgeous eyes boring into me, and the coin finally dropped that I was being interrogated. "Why was that soul so desired by the Great Enemy that they'd give so much for it?" Eh, Emperor damn it, might as well keep talking. She had enough to hang me as is if she felt like it.
"If the Harlequin who sold it to me was right, it was the individual directly responsible for the birth of Slaanesh herself." I stated, draining my glass in a single gulp. "The Last Emperor of the Eldar Empire. Said that he founded the first 'Pleasure Cult', whatever the frak that is. He explained to me that it was like I held the souls of Horus Lupercal, Abaddon the Despoiler, and a thousand other traitors in my hand to do with as I pleased." I saw Amberley's eyes widening in genuine shock as her fair skin paled and her hands shook; it seemed as if I'd caught her off guard.
"You don't know half of what he did, if such actions were truly all his doing." She whispered, eyes narrowing like Illric's or that damned clown's did when talking about the bastard that damned their species. I'll admit, such a reaction had me curious. He'd been dead and trapped in the Darkstone since before the founding of the Imperium; what could he have done to injure Humanity besides birthing the Fourth Fuck?
"Care to share?"
She composed herself, then nodded firmly. "Of course. You deserve to know. Based upon myth and old records, which have since been confirmed by the Oathsworn's own histories, the Eldar Empire's fall into debauchery created the Warp Storms that started the Age of Strife." Amberley reported. "At least, that's what the Inquisition has managed to put together with the Oathsworn's help." Well, I'll admit, I wasn't expecting that. I slammed my head against the table, groaning in frustration as the glasses and bottles upon it shook and clattered at the impact. Oh, it wasn't enough that he'd been the most evil being in the galaxy, nooooo! I had sent the single being directly responsible for the end of Mankind's Golden Age straight to hell.
"Great. Thanks for the information." I mumbled into the fine wood grain, hands clutching at the back of my head as I lay slumped there in misery. "Does that mean that the Cogboys are going to worship me too now?"
"Worship you… too?" Amberley asked, voice and face concerned by what I was alluding to. Frak. I'd slipped up. I really wished that I could blame the amasec, but it was harder for me to get drunk than it was for a Krieger to take out a Leman Russ tank with a shovel; not impossible, but damned hard(8).
"Evidently He on Terra was pleased by my actions." I said, deciding to tell a sanitized version of the truth. "He gave me this after the Bargain was struck. He actually made it for me Himself by his divine power." I murmured reverently, holding the Aquila up for my companion to observe it better. Amberley's eyes sparkled with awe and her mouth was wide in an expression of religious ecstasy; it seemed that not only did she believe me, but her own great welling of faith resonated with the holy power of the amulet. She reached out hesitantly, treating it as the priceless relic it was. I let her touch the Aquila, her fingers trailing over the golden surface, but then she started to tug it closer to herself. In hindsight, I'm certain she simply meant to get a better look and didn't mean to try to take it off of me. But still her actions caused me to panic, yanking it away from her grasp and clutching it like a lifeline. Her face was full of confusion and hurt, not knowing what she'd nearly done. Slowly, trying my damnedest to keep my voice calm and level, I gave her an ultimatum, Inquisitor or not. "Do. Not. Touch. My. Aquila,"
She looked taken aback and offended, hands still grasping out as if she was pulled towards the holy artifact sitting around my neck. "But… He on Terra… Priceless…"
"It is a gift the God-Emperor bestowed on me. Forgive me if I don't just hand it over." I nearly growled despite trying to keep my tone even, honestly scared by what had almost happened. Amberley had almost removed the one thing keeping me contained, keeping me human. And if she did pull it off, then cue the Cyclonic Torpedoes. Breathing in to calm my panic, I smiled apologetically at her, offering more pieces of my story as a gesture of peace between us. "After I was granted the privilege of wearing the God-Emperor's Aquila, I found on Perlia that I was able to feed off of faith alone along with other miracles." I began to tell her a sanitized version of my misadventures on Perlia, hopeful that she wasn't one of those Inquisitors who ordered orbital bombardment on Saints(9). She looked contemplative, eyes darting between the Aquila and me, before nodding.
"Then you must be truly blessed." She replied lightly, making the sign of the Aquila. I followed suit, glad both to put that unpleasantness behind us and for the chance to share making the blessed sign with someone whose faith shone so brilliantly(10). Honestly, I got the impression that the only reason why Amberley's faith didn't burn me like Father Anthony's did was because my desire for her was just as great, and so the two somehow canceled each other out somewhat; don't look at me, just because I'm literally made out of Warpstuff doesn't mean I understand this heretical crap. Amberley smiled thinly at me as she raised her glass towards her lips, obviously still a bit miffed but willing to let it go as long as I was in a sharing mood. "Anything else you'd like to tell me?"
…Well, she did ask, and I did owe her for making me waste a mouthful of good amasec earlier. "Apparently Illric and Sebastian Thor were in a physical relationship." I informed her mildly, just as Amberley was taking a sip. And there it went all over the table. Glorious revenge. Mentally I made a note to leave the waiter a large tip for all the mess we were causing here.
"WHAT?!" She exclaimed, drawing all eyes towards her. Scowling at the attention, she flashed her electoo and suddenly everyone in the club was both blind and deaf. She turned back to me, wide eyed as I smirked at her disbelief.
"Yep, said he called him 'Sebby'." I watched as Amberley gained a look of stunned horror, before slamming her head on the table.
"Showing the Eldar who's on top in the galactic hierarchy… MY ASS!" She roared into the soaked wood. Evidently that must've been one of the redacted pages. Mimicking my own earlier position, she clasped her hands over her head, fingers making a mess of her hair. Honestly it looked good, and made me wonder how she'd look after… other things that could leave her hair mussed up. Amberley of course was in her own world as her mental picture of the Imperium's most revered holy figure outside of the Emperor and his Loyal Sons was rearranged. "Oh God-Emperor… It all makes sense now… I… I didn't want to believe it…"
"That's about the same reaction I had." I replied, pouring her another drink before finishing my second bottle. This was both dangerous and fun, poking at her; where the hell had I gone and picked up this sudden daredevil streak from? Regardless I hoped it didn't stay long, I could scarce afford to risk needling a frakking Inquisitor, no matter how adorable she was when flustered. With a sigh, I decided to bring this mostly pleasant interrogation to a close and get to business. "Was there a reason you wanted to see me, aside from learning my little secrets Inquisitor?"
Amberley rose back into her seat, slammed down her drink, and composed herself with remarkable speed. "Yes. I wanted your help. Follow me." She then stood and led me through the headquarters to the conference room I'd been at earlier. Her Psyker was there, rocking back and forth, whimpering(11). She looked at Amberley, then saw me, and went right back to continuing to rock back and forth. Amberley didn't seem to care so much beyond a quick concerned glance towards the other woman, so hopefully that was a sign that Rakel had kept my secret and that the overly attractive Inquisitor wasn't about to start checking on what would happen if she shot me. Zyvan was there, as were the others I'd seen with Amberley. Before I could be more properly introduced to the rest of her minions(12), she turned to me, eyes and expression gravely serious. "Everything said here is strictly confidential. Failure to maintain confidentiality will result in your execution." She declared grimly and with not a trace of humor. Oh boy. That sort of warning couldn't be the prelude to anything good. She let the dire warning hang in the air between us for a long moment, before turning to the commanding officer of the Astra Militarum's forces on Gravalax. "Lord General." Zyvan nodded, and turned on the holomap. It flickered, the machine spirit thinking it could be lazy.
"Could you please work a little harder?" I asked it evenly. Evidently the spirit recognized me as the one who'd sicced its god on it, so it immediately cleared the picture up.
"...Are you sure you're not part of the Mechanicus?" Zyvan asked me, an amused expression on his lips.
"Do you see my limbs being replaced with cables and voxes?" I deadpanned.
The Lord General chuckled briefly before sobering and giving a nod. "Fair enough. Inquisitor? The floor is yours."
Amberley nodded in response, fiddling with the map's controls and zooming out to the rest of the galaxy, showing how Gravalax was surrounded by the Tau.
"We covered that." I helpfully told her. "We're surrounded by the Tau on all sides, with only a narrow path for resupplies, or the Webway."
"The fact that we can call on it still boggles my mind…" Amberley whispered to herself though with my heightened senses I still caught it, before nodding. "Good. Then I can skip that part." She typed something in, and the map changed. Suddenly, it was covering the entirety of the Damocles Gulf, and there were many planets and systems throughout it outlined in red. Desolatia. Corania. And many more. Beside each red outline was a symbol that any sane Guardsman knew to fear, the sign of the Great Devourer. "As you can see, there have been many Tryanid hotspots emerging."
"Remnants." The Lord-General said dismissively, though we all knew that even the remnants of Behemoth could spell the doom of worlds.
"No… no, it's not…" I whispered, my palms itching up a storm as the coin began to drop and puzzle pieces arranged themselves in my mind into a picture I very much didn't like. "Inquisitor Vail? Show the map where all of the genestealer cults have been." Amberley looked a little surprised at my demand, but did as asked. Sure enough, I saw exactly what I expected, and I couldn't keep my dismay hidden. "Oh no. Oh no oh no oh no…"
"What… that's a lot… why?" Zyvan whispered as he saw the hordes of purple dots splattered across the map, likewise shaken.
"...This isn't just a remnant gaining strength." I realized, my stomach sinking into my boots. "This is a vanguard force." To my utter horror, Amberley nodded stiffly despite my fervent desire for her to tell me I was mistaken. "There's another Hive Fleet coming, isn't there?"
"We… we can't be sure, but the signs point to it." She admitted reluctantly, but I could taste the lies even as they left her lips. I wouldn't have been surprised if everyone soiled themselves right there; Behemoth had nearly shattered the Ultramarines. It had been that Hive Fleet that had saved the Tau from extinction by diverting the forces of the Damocles Crusade to face the much greater threat.
"Oh God-Emperor… no…" Zyvan whimpered, and nobody called him a coward. Even the bravest men and women went weak at the knees at the thought of another Tyranid invasion.
"And you suspect a genestealer cult among the planet?" I guessed, face grim as I gathered my composure. Amberley nodded sharply.
"Who would benefit from a war besides them? The T'au know we wouldn't just hand the world over. They don't want a war for Gravlax almost as much as we don't. A war for the planet would bloody all of us, leaving our forces stretched thin and vulnerable." Then she landed the killing blow, the final detail that spelled out our impending doom. "The Ordo Xenos has been receiving several emergency messages from the Oathsworn Farseers. A darkness is coming to this part of the galaxy. A darkness that devours all it touches. If there's a cult here, then that would prove it." She let out a long, shuddering sigh of resignation. "And we found it. Or at least we think we have."
"How deep do you think it goes?" Zyvan asked, his resolve firm once more. No doubt within his mind he was reviewing the best methods of fighting the insidious Genestealer Cults. Of how to protect his soldiers from becoming infected by the locals even as they got ready for an eventual uprising of the afflicted populace. All while the T'au were watching us, and in their ignorance of the threat would no doubt act if the Imperial Guard waged war upon the locals. A right proper clusterfrak of epic proportions if ever there was one.
"At least into the PDF as proven by their defections, though other than that we don't know. I think it's a first generation cult. The offspring of implanted soldiers or nobles."
Emperor, I hoped she was right. There might still be a chance for this world if she was. Still, I interjected, trying to get a handle on how widely the corruption may have taken root. "What of the upper crust? The wealthy and the nobility?"
Amberley nodded, obviously seeing where I was coming from. "Obviously at least one. A member of the Cult was doubtlessly at the party, trying to assassinate the Tau Ambassador and kick off a war between the Imperium and T'au Empire."
I gulped, sweating as I thought of how many had been present when the bolter shot rang out, most of them with a clear line on O'Ran. "Then it could have been anyone there. And that's assuming it was one of the guests; it could've easily been one of the servants that the Cult converted." That was the trouble with fighting hidden Cults, whether they be Heretics or Xenos; you never knew where and who the enemy was.
Again Amberley nodded, face pinched with displeasure. "That's the problem. Orelius was there to assess if there was a chance that the nobility and other guests had been infected. Genestealers can't resist Rogue Traders, as they can spread the infection further in their travels."
Well that chilled my blood more than a bit and reminded me of what sort of woman Amberley was; an Inquisitor, sworn to protect the Emperor's dominions by ANY means necessary. Still, this struck me as unusual, as not only did Amberley seem to genuinely care about her followers but as a Rogue Trader Orelius should've been able to tell her to frak off then try to outrun the Inquisition. Not a good option that, but better than being infected by Xenos then given the Emperor's Mercy. "And he was… fine with it?"
She looked me in the eyes then, and I was surprised to see genuine grief. "He has a limited lifespan." Amberley said, shaking her head sadly as the Rogue Trader in question stood by silently with a stoic expression. "That's why he wanted to do this, to make the last years of his life count."
It was good to know I hadn't misjudged Amberley's character. Still, despite the reasons given, someone like me couldn't comprehend not clinging to life no matter what. Especially with the resources and connections Orelius must have had to deal with any illness. "Has he tried any of the medicine he obviously has access to?"
"Yes." Orelius stated plainly, speaking for himself for the first time. "I've exhausted every option I could. The medicaes say…" He coughed into a handkerchief, and a bit of blood splattered against the fine silk cloth. "Apologies… Forgot to take my meds today. According to every Magos Biologis and other expert I've consulted, I have two standard years, tops, and it's a miracle that I've lived as long as I have already."
I stared at the dying man before me, then strode forwards. I don't know what took hold of me. Perhaps it was because this man was willing to sacrifice himself for others, something I couldn't grasp doing myself. Since my damnation, I'd come to truly value such noble souls and wished to safeguard them. "Trader Orelius, I would like to talk to you after this."
Grimacing, he wiped the blood from his lips. "I see no reason not to speak with you afterwards, Commissar."
Amberley coughed then also, though simply to draw our attention. "Commissar, I still have need of you and your services. I need a fireteam. One that is… expendable."
Well, the Emperor does provide, and it seemed like He was providing my regiment's troublemakers a chance at redemption."I have one of those." I admitted, before hastily adding a word of caution. "But they're probably not the most reliable…"
Amberley smiled brightly at me then, and my spirits simultaneously sank and lifted as the itching in my palms increased. In my experience, when a beautiful woman smiles at you after you give them bad news, then whatever they're about to say next can only be trouble. "Which is why I need you to lead them with me. And bring Jurgen; a Blank can interfere with the Tyranids and Genestealer Cultists' hivemind."
Damnit. I really did hate being right all the time about people seeking to get me killed. And she specifically requested Jurgen, a request I was in no position to refuse. That meant that there was no way I could get out of it myself either. Coward that I was, I couldn't abandon Jurgen to her tender mercies and trust her to return my aide in one piece. "Very well. Let me discuss things with Orelius and then I'll assemble your suicide squad."
Rakel was whimpering as I took Orelius' arm and pulled him outside of the conference room; she no doubt knew what I was capable of. Fortunately for her and the Rogue Trader both, my purpose was benign. I held up my Aquila and began to pray to cover up what I was actually doing. "Holy Emperor, let me heal Thy faithful servant." I intoned, letting my power flow through me and leech into him. Immediately, I felt nauseous as I detected every flaw and imperfection within the man's body. Holy Emperor. Every cell was sick, as if the Sick Fuck of disease had personally turned the Rogue Trader's genetics into a nightmare. This wasn't just cancer or disease, this was a mutation of truly malignant scope(13). My power surged through Orelius, slicing down to the very strands of DNA. Strands were torn apart and reknit properly. Biological information flew into me like a river, as I fixed him, restoring the perfection of the human form to him. His eyes were wide as I worked, though I ignored it in order to focus, feeling my power draining out of myself. This wasn't something like a broken leg; this was far more intensive, and wasn't nearly as rewarding as most acts of healing I performed. It was one of the most draining things I had yet done. But I couldn't let someone brave enough to risk Implantation die painfully as their own body turned against them. Finally, after what felt like hours but was in reality only minutes, I let go of him.
"What… what did you do?" He whispered in awe, standing tall and body no longer hunched in pain. "I… I can breathe more easily. Commissar, what…?"
"The Emperor's Blessing." I lied. "I can heal the wounds of the injured. I figured it'd be worth a try(14)."
I felt good, doing something just because it was the right thing to do. Of course any good I did here would be wildly counterbalanced by what actions I would soon take.
"Never lose hope or your nerve, for the Emperor is with you. Saint Ciaphas taught me that lesson when he saved my life and restored my courage." -Attributed to a senior officer of the 1st Gravalax Guardians Regiment(15)
1: I don't know how many times I have to explain this to Ciaphas. They are my 'retinue', not my 'minions'. Referring to my assets as 'minions' suggests that I, a member of His Divine Majesty's Most Holy Inquisition, have nefarious intentions.
2: I have heard that there were no less than twelve tarot drawings by the High Lords to ascertain His Holy Majesty's Will, before the Captain-General of the Custodes swatted the cards away.
3: Ciaphas exaggerates here. While many of my fellows are overly eager to silence any witnesses to their deeds, general knowledge of the Ordos is not only allowed, but encouraged as knowing that the God-Emperor's Most Holy Inquisition is keeping a watchful eye over His subjects is… comforting to most citizens.
4: Really, Ciaphas? I'll just consider this one your Slaaneshi side speaking…
5: They wouldn't be able to do a thing to a Rogue Trader. Cain would no doubt know this, so it's merely his paranoia speaking.
6: She acted on instinct and ended up saving countless lives. So yes, she did end up following Cain's example there.
7: At the time of writing, Lady General Jenit Sulla is considered the frontrunner for the next head of the Astra Militarum.
8: The Death Korps of Krieg Guardsman in question, nicknamed "Ivan" after a Valhallan Guardsman by the name of Pavlovich who pulled off a similar feat using an axe, rushed a traitor Leman Russ tank, climbing over it and disabling it's weapons by bashing them repeatedly with his shovel. When the crew of the disabled tank attempted to surrender, he bludgeoned them all to death. Then Ivan, being the cook of the camp that the enemy tank had stumbled upon, went straight back to preparing the rations for his returning comrades.
9: I'd like to think that I'm not. But if I had managed to pull that Aquila off… I would have ordered one.
10: I could tell he was hiding something from me, so I performed the sign of the Aquila to test him and see if he was a Daemonhost, as they cannot perform such actions. And no other daemon could remain in realspace for as long as he had with minimal taint; that, and there'd be no way a daemon would wear a holy relic willingly. Oh, the irony.
11: Since I was beginning to buy into Cain's apparent sainthood, I admittedly wondered if she had felt His power and was terrified, not that she'd stared down a Favored Daemon Prince.
12: Again, the correct term is 'retinue', not 'minions' despite Inquisitor Ga'rue's insistence on referring to anyone working for him in that manner.
13: Orelius was the result of generations of inbreeding. In fact, he was unique in his family for not seeing anyone closer than his third cousin in any romantic way.
14: Entire cults have been sacrificed to daemons for the leader to be healed of lesser inflictions. And Cain does it because it is right. If he had done that in front of me, I would have likely picked it up as Slaaneshi power, but giving it so selflessly? I… I likely wouldn't have gone to the lengths that I did later.
15: In the time since Cain performed his great "miracle" on Gravalax, the Guard regiments raised upon that world have achieved a reputation for dogged determination equal to that of Cadian regiments. Appropriate, considering the role their world now plays.