In Memoria (40K)

[Coalition]

Hahaha, oh man. Most inquisitors would have chewed you out for heresy right there. Jolan knows the important things. Like finding and burning Nurgle spawn. Purge the Daemons!

He also knows not to underestimate the opponent. If you think they are ordinary xenos, and one is not, you will get splattered (if lucky). If you prepare yourself for taking on someone with an Inquisitor's capabilities, you will be better prepared.

[haard]

This is the best 40k fanfic, evah!

When can I find more IO 40k fic?

[Imperial Overlord]

The Lord Marburg and her surviving escort took an anchor point in high orbit above Telmont's World. Inside one of the many secret chambers near the ship's heart, the inquisitors convened, along with their closest advisers. Riel was joined by Captain Hennel and small man wearing a simple black uniform with the Inquisition's insignia on his collar. He had blue eyes, short red hair, and a ragged scar set with rubies crawling across his left cheek.

Jolan's entourage consisted of Lydia, Hethor, Melina, Shala, Danell, and Gard. Chandraha Reil raised an eyebrow as they entered the room and made a gesture of welcoming with her jeweled and deadly hands. "Be welcome. I had heard you travelled with a small entourage. It appears that is mistaken."

"Quality over quantity," said Gix. He was wearing a dark red coat over his body glove and weapons' harness. His people fanned out to circle the holotank in the center of cramped chamber. Chandraha touched a control rune with one of her golden nails. Telmont's World appeared in the holotank, revolving slowly.

"I have been in contact with the senior judge. The imperial commander of this world-"

"Negel Haut," the red headed man supplied helpfully.

"Negel Haut," she continued smoothly, "is an incompetent fool."

"Are you sure?" asked Jolan Gix. "Do we have anything more than the word of a man who maybe covering up his own incompetence on this?"

"We also have the report of an Inquisition covert observer," she said.

"Excellent," said Gix. "Please continue."

"The situation has worsened into a full scale uprising. The Zemakki destroyed the world's only space station and both system defence ships, along with a pair of weapon platforms, when they first arrived." She touched another key. A creeping red blotch spread over part of a continent. "They are currently contained in this region, although there is heavy fighting."

Jolan reached over the tapped several runes on his side of the table. The embattled continent peeled away and the rest of the planet vanished. The continent flipped over, forming a more conventional map, and grew. Gold glows representing population centers appeared along with blue and violet battle lines.

Chandraha watched him. "Do you have any suggestions for how we approach this, Inquisitor Gix?"

"I'm considering several approaches at the moment, my lady. You clearly have a plan of your own. You have my interest."

"We remove the dead weight from the government and destroy the center of the uprising with bombardment cannons. Synne here will take charge of the PDF and reinforced by orbital fire support and strike craft as well as a few companies of Stormtroopers, demolishes them."

"It'll work," said Hethor.

"Your master doesn't seem so sure," replied Chandraha. "What's on your mind Gix?"

"The Zemakki," said Jolan. "A simple cult uprising wouldn't be enough for them to commit four War Cruisers. Something else is happening."

"And what do you think that might be?"

"I don't know," said Jolan. "Yet."

He touched another series of keys. The battle lines vanished and the red sea receded as it the map time lapsed its way back to the beginning of the uprising. "This is where it erupted from, in large numbers. Over a period of several weeks the majority of the population of an apparently loyal town took up the cause of one of the Ruinous Powers. Cultic activity had been on the increase over the last year, but here it explodes. A week later the Zemakki show up and they start pouring out in droves. The Zemakki don't trigger the mass uprising, which is the logical train of events, they respond to it."

"And your conclusions, based on this evidence?"

"This town, Cernadia, its the source. We need to take it intact. We need to know if its an imprisoned demon, the work of a powerful magus, a star spanning ritual, or whatever. We need to know because whatever it is it's important enough to draw the Zemakki away from their fortress-worlds. We need to stop it and we need to find out how this affects the rest of the Imperium and stop it there as well."

"Interesting theory inquisitor. It may have merit. Assuming I agree, how would you proceed?"

"Wipe out their battle lines and major holdings with bombardment cannons. Accept the collateral loses of PDF troops and drop an attack force into Cernadia directly from the Lord Marburg. We kill everything we don't take prisoner and sift through the evidence behind an Inquisition quarantine."

"Your reputation is for . . . less destructive methods. I'm surprised."

"I use what methods are appropriate," said Jolan Gix. "This is too serious a matter for half measures. Besides, magma bombs will help reduce the inevitable spread of plague inevitably accompanies the the followers of Nurgle."

"I will consider what you have said Inquisitor Gix."

"Thank you, my lady."

[Imperial Overlord]

Alone in the arming room, Lydia Meradin flexed uncomfortably under her armour. She didn't like the weight or restrictions on movement imposed by full armour, but Inquisitor Gix had insisted that everyone wear sealed suits. There was a knock on the door. "Enter," she said.

Hethor D'eckor walked in, his size magnified by his harness of carapace plates. A heavy matte black rifle was slung over his shoulder and a bolt pistol was holstered on his hip. "You ready?" Hethor asked.

"Almost. We're not leaving yet."

"No, but there's other things that need to get done," said Hethor. "Seein' that everything gets done is my job. So seen' that your ready is my problem."

"You've been with Gix for a long time, haven't you?"

"Since he was Neven's interrogator," said Hethor. "Not taking a long arm?"

"No," she said. "I'll do fine with my pistol." She could feel D'eckor's skeptical glance. "You've seen me shoot."

"Yeah, better than me. Better than Keys even." He shrugged. "Suit yourself." He knew better than to try to talk sense into an interrogator after she had her mind made up. "I'll be seein' you."

"Where to know?"

"Have to make sure the glory boys that were goin' down with know the score. Never can tell with these Stormtrooper assholes, though the Inquisition boys seem a bit faster on the uptake."

---------------------------------------------------

Light burst into existence on Telmont's world, a brief flash in the night that was visible from orbit. In its wake, a fireball blossomed. Lord Marburg's guns shifted in their mounts, aligning with the next target in the firing sequence. The ship shuddered with the force of the recoil as a volley of high energy laser and macro cannon shells were launched at the target. There was another blaze of light and another fireball climbing into the sky. The guns shifted towards the next target in the sequence.

Soon there was a crescent of flame five hundred kilometers long were the battle lines had been. More mushroom clouds rose in places where rebel fortresses and strongholds had once stood. Only one major heretic center had been exempted from the barrage, the town of Cernadia. Its time was coming soon enough.

The launch bays of the Lord Marburg were bustling with activity as strike craft were being readied for launch. Fuel lines snaked across the floor to Starhawk bombers and ordinance carts were carried ground attack munitions to the huge craft. Crews entered their bombers and began to go through their pre-launch check lists.

Below the bay, where the assault ships waited in their cradles patiently for their turn in the launch bay, Jolan Gix stood amongst two hundred Stormtroopers. The inquisitor wore his power armour, although he had not yet donned his helmet. A rifle identical to that of Hethor D'eckor was slung across his back. Hethor, Domina, Lydia, Danell, and Shala Nofield were all present. Danell wore form fitting light black armour, Domina her power armour, and the rest wore sealed carapace suits.

"We aren't going down merely to kill the enemy," Jolan Gix said. "A mere heretic uprising wouldn't stir up the Zemakki enough for them to send War Cruisers into Imperial space. Something of importance is or did happen, probably at Cernadia. That's why the town has been spared. Radioactive ash will tell us nothing and we need to know."

"I'm in charge of this operation and Hethor here," Jolan jerked his thumb in the direction of the big veteran, "is my second. The bombers will go in first and soften things up. Standard sweep and exterminate. Find something interesting, pass it up the line. Questions?"

"Only two hundred men to take a town?" asked a Stormtrooper captain.

"Yes," said Gix.

"My lord, I don't mean any disrespect, but the bombers won't take care of all their troop concentrations and strong points."

"That's true. But the bombers aren't the only air support you're going to have. You'll have plenty of fire support and a free hand to call it in. Any other questions? None? Good. Get your troops and gear buckled in. We've got work to do."

[Imperial Overlord]

The Starhawk bombers had left their mark on the town. Dozens of fires burned in the wake of their bombing run where their lethal cargo had been unleashed at possible and confirmed enemy positions. Former strong points were now smoking rubble and liquid fire burned where there once had been trench lines and gun pits. A hill that hosted antiaircraft guns had been heavily bombed and the once verdant ground was blackened and heavily cratered.

Vulture gunships cruised towards the town, opening up on suspected enemy positions with rockets and rapid fire autocannons. Walls were torn open and buildings gutted by the fire, collapsing upon themselves in the wake of the attack runs. People fled through the streets from burning or wrecked buildings. Heavy bolters and autocannons tore most of them apart in sprays of gore.

In the wake of the Vultures came Valkyries loaded with Inquisition Stormtroopers. The black armoured troopers quickly disembarked and secured the landing zone, taking up defensive positions and storming the surrounding building. A brief and one sided gunfight slowed them down only slightly.

Five minutes later a ragged force mobilized to attack them. The heretics were filthy and ragged, although their weapons were cleaner than they were. Some of them wore flak armour jackets or coats and some others wore improvised armour of leather and metal plates. Many of their weapons were autoguns or simple slug throwers, but some had lasguns or flamers. Heavier support weapons were few in number.

They were gunned down without mercy. Stormtrooper hellguns carved through their armour and blew holes in their flesh. Volleys of eye searing plasma bleams left nothing but ash and char where they struck while flamers vomited fire on their ranks. Drum fed grenade launchers pumped out lethal blasts of shrapnel which scythed through heretic ranks. The Stormtroopers armour withstood or deflected almost all of the enemy's fire. The Imperial troops held their ground and continued to kill as they called in fire support from the Vultures and Valkyries.

By the time Jolan Gix and his retinue touched down the Stormtroopers were sorting through the enemy dead and finishing off enemy survivors. Two of their number had been killed and they had five wounded. The major in charge approached Jolan Gix, but did not salute. He was faceless behind his helmet's visor.

The major was a big man, but he was dwarfed by the inquisitor's powered armour. "My lord, the landing area is secure. We have beaten back an enemy counter attack and remain ready to execute your will."

"Thank you major," said Jolan Gix. The rest of his retinue settled around him. "Sweep and kill. Try to take any officers or priests prisoners, but-" he stopped and turned his head.

"My lord?" asked the major.

"Try to take prisoners, but I may not need them." Jolan pointed. "Focus your efforts in that direction."

"Yes my lord." The major turned and walked back towards the perimeter, issuing orders.

"What is it boss?" asked Hethor.

"There is a dark presence," said Jolan. "I did not expect it to be this obvious."

"How can you tell?" Lydia asked. "All I can sense is a dark miasma. And potential death."

"Experience," said Jolan. "It's a dark, stronger current than the rest of this mess. It may be what we are looking for."

"We will find the unclean and purge them," said Domina, a note of contentment in her voice. She hefted her heavy flamer.

"Good enough for me," said Hethor. "So's letting the glory boys do the hard work for a change. Five to one that there's a big nasty daemon on the other end."

"Five to one?" Lydia said incredulously. "Do I look like a sucker to you?"

"Can't blame a guy for tryin'," said Hethor.

"Enough chatter," said Gix. "We're hear on the Emperor's business. Let's find out whatever this thing is and finish it." He waved his people forward and began to follow up in the wake of the Stormtroopers' advance. His people fell into step with him. Whatever awaited them ahead, they would face it together.

[Imperial Overlord]

The advance of the Stormtroopers was both swift and methodical. They covered each other as they leapfrogged from cover to cover, killing the enemy as they came. The heretic resistance was stronger here. Hellgun beams crackled through the air, accompanied by eye searing plasma beams and the bangs of detonating grenades.

The sizzling hiss of lasbeams and the crack of stubber fire came back at them from the heretics. The Stormtroopers kept up the hail of fire, covering their comrades as they stopped briefly to reload, and continued to advance. Despite their casualties the heretics refused to break. They stood fast, sometimes taking weapons from the hands of their fallen comrades to continue the fighting. Strong points were destroyed and shelter turned into charnel houses and still they fought on.

A squad of Stormtroopers entered a house whose walls were riddled with holes from hellgun fire and scored by grenade blasts. The leading edge moved forward to secure the rest of the battered building while the next pair followed up, slowing only to shoot any corpses twice in the chest.

Sengara Singh moved in. He didn't need an auspex to know that heavy fighting was still going on nearby. He peaked through a window. The damn heretics were not giving up. He activated his vox. "Major," signaled Captain Singh. "The enemy is stubborn. Permission to call in close air support."

"I'll relay your request through the inquisitor," replied Major Corbin. "He wants the main enemy structure as undamaged as-"

"Permission granted," replied Jolan Gix.

"Halt the advance," Singh said of the general channel. "Time for the fly boys to earn their pay." Vulture and Valkyries screeched in, tearing apart houses with heavy bolter and autocannon fire. Streams of heavy shells ripped through walls to detonate inside of buildings, a torrent of fire that seemed to cause the structures to suddenly collapse all at once. The gunships delivered death from the sky for an eternity that chronometers would measure being two minutes long before disengaging.

The Stormtroopers advanced through the dust and rubble, mercilessly finishing off survivors were they found them. There was little need for that. Here and there a pocket of resistance remained, but a volley of hellgun fire was usually sufficient to end it.

Ahead of them was a massive cathedral-hall structure, its construction hastily completed and altered. Pieces of rebar poked out at various points and the upper dome was incomplete. The great stone aquila piece above the main doors had fallen on the steps and shattered. Blasphemous graffiti, especially that of a triangular arrangement of spheres, covered the walls.

"Sir," said Nylar Jenns, holding up his psi-tracker. "Take a look at the readings." Singh glanced at them.

"Major," he said over the vox, "tell the Inquisitor that we've found what he is looking for." He switched channels to address his men. "Kill anything that pokes a head or a gun out of that building. Secure the surrounding area. Move!"

Major Corbin turned around, towards the approach of Jolan Gix and his retinue. "My lord," he began, "we are in the process of securing the perimeter around the target building. We'll move in several squads and secure the approaches so you and your retinue may move in safely."

"Excellent," said Gix. "The status of you and your men?"

"Status? Sir, we are combat ready and prepared to execute your will."

"Morale? Losses?"

"Morale is good, losses have been light."

"Good. See to your men and the operation."

"Yes my lord." Corbin turned back to his men. An inquisitor worried about casualties? This Gix was an odd one indeed.

[Imperial Overlord]

With their comrades providing cover, a platoon of Inquisition Stormtroopers moved towards the ruin. Half a kilometer away snipers with the best scopes the Adeptus Mechanicus could provide watched the building, ready to kill anyone and anything that showed up any one of their scanning modes. A figure loomed in the shadows around one of the upper windows. Two hotshot beams caused the heretic's torso to literally explode before he pulled the trigger. Mangled meat fell back inside. The Stormtroopers reached the entrance unmolested.

Vision enhancers spotted the tripwires leading to explosive booby traps just inside the doorway. Bio and psi trackers detected the presence of men waiting inside under cover. Infrared trackers saw the body heat radiating away from them.

The ambushers were hiding behind large blocks of stones and ruined columns in the entrance way. The Stormtrooopers did not need words for what came next. They had been trained since birth for this and blooded countless times. Grenades were flung in towards the enemy and flamers leveled.

Flames licked over and around hiding places as grenades detonated and spread lethal shrapnel through the ruined hall. Hellgun beams cracked through the air, white hot blazes that blasted chunks of stone away from hiding spots and perforated any exposed flesh. The Stormtroopers advanced using fire and grenades to root out their prey from their cover and gunning down any that exposed themselves to flee or fight back. They had done this a thousand times since they were children and dozens of battlefields since then. Their work was not the work of men, but that of a well oiled killing machine.

The lieutenant in charge made a couple of short hand gestures. Squads broke off. There were a few brief exchanges of gunfire that ended with an "enemy neutralized" signal being sent back. Two minutes later an "all clear" was received from every squad. The lieutenant relayed it back to Captain Singh.

Singh received the signal impassively. He turned towards Jolan Gix. "Inquisitor, my men have secured the approaches to the target."

"Very good captain. You and your command team will accompany my retinue. Major Corbin, deal with the rest of the town as you see fit. Make sure that at least one platoon and two gunships are nearby for my use if I require them."

"Your will Inquisitor." Corbin recognized he had been dismissed and turned towards his men. The inquisitor would handle the important matter personally. His job was clear: handle the smaller details and exterminate the Emperor's enemies. He was well equipped to do so. He began issuing the necessary orders.

Jolan and his retinue ran towards the ruin. They made it to the entrance without being fired upon. "Inquisitor," said the lieutenant.

"Lieutenant," said Gix. "Your name?"

"Cader Vall."

"What's the situation Lieutenant Vall?"

"We have secured the approach inquisitor. Minor injuries only, most of our ammunition remains. Psi tracker results are unreliable for areas beyond ten meters of the entrance."

"The last is expected. We're going in. Give Captain Singh one of your squads, they'll travel with us. You'll command the rest."

"My lord, that leaves you with the smaller group."

"Yes it does. Your people are used to working with each other and so are mine. The effectiveness of your people will be reduced in a mixed group so the larger group should be entirely Stormtroopers."

"My lord, my highest duty-"

"-is to serve the Emperor, not safeguard me. I can take care of myself quite well, my people know there work, and I'm the one wearing power armour. Your concern is noted. You've done part of your duty. Now do the rest. Obey."

"Forgive me my lord."

"You are forgiven. Now go do your job."

"Your will." Vall began to mass his men.

"We inquisitors are a individualistic lot," said Gix.

"My lord,-" began Singh.

"You were thinking it."

Singh knew better to argue with an inquisitor, especially when he was right. Then he noticed something. "My lord, one of your men is missing."

"No, he isn't missing. He's vanished and that's what he's supposed to do. Let's move. He'll be waiting for us and the enemy in the dark."

The Inquisition forces moved forward into the darkness. Vall Lead most of his platoon down the main corridor while Jolan and his forces took a side route. Splotches of luminescent fungus grew on the floor and ceiling marble. The air was thick with spores, but the soldiers were protected by their breathing apparatus. Water dripped down from holes and gaps in the ceiling. Little clusters of mushrooms grew from spots of filth on the floor. "My lord," said Jenns, "my bioscanner has become unreliable. It is registering life readings everywhere."

"We could use Gard down here," Hethor rumbled.

"Be on your guard," said Jolan. His rifle was ready. Lydia had her customized bolt pistol in her hand. They moved forward very slowly.

A large splotch of decaying matter about ten meters ahead twitched and then reared up with a shriek emenating from its lampray like jaw. The sluglike monster composed of decaying matter slid forward, tentacles sprouting from its obscene head.

Hellgun beams flashed around it or cratered its unnatural flesh but it did not slow down. A flamer gushed fire upon the daemonic beast, causing the putrid slime coatings its body to bubble and hiss. It pushed forward, pushing its fire scared body through the puddle of flame in front of it.

"Heth!" Jolan shouted as he leveled his rifle. Both men switched the firing modes on the combiweapons from hellgun to plasma. Blinding beams of blue-white fury struck the creature in its neck. Decaying meat turned to ash at the touch of the ravening plasma and unspeakable fluids flash boiled. The Beast of Nurgle's neck exploded. Both men lowered their guns as steam blasted out of the vents in the lower barrels.

"Throne," Hethor said. "It's still twitching. Both parts."

Jolan knew what he meant. In a living creature that could mean reflex motion, but this thing was warp animated carrion. That mean residual daemonic presence. "Flamers. Burn it."

Two flamer troopers advanced and bathed the creature in blessed promethium that was blended with flakes of silver nitrate. Jolan's unease did not diminish. "Be ready," he warned.

The sound of cracking stone reached his ears. He saw cracks crawling across the walls. "Beware the sides!" he shouted. Then the floor collapsed under his feet and he was falling.

[LadyTevar]

Screw the sides! Watch the floor!!!!

[Hawkwings]

I could have *sworn* that they were gonna get jumped from above.

[Imperial Overlord]

The walls crumbled around the Stormtroopers, opening a gap large enough for a man to step through on both sides. The things that did so were not men. They were slouching brutes with long thin limbs and distended bellies. They were easily the height of human males, with rotting skin and flesh. Loops of entrails were exposed by the gaps in their flesh and their heads had single, puss filed, cyclopean eyes. Crowning their diseased skulls was a single horn. In their hands they gripped rusty blades.

The daemons stepped forward and stabbed the closest soldiers, their blades punching through carapace armour as if it was wet paper. One Stormtrooper fell with a blade in his gut and a second was pierced through the heart. The daemons jerked their weapons out of their victims and raised them to strike again. The close quarters of the corridor made the pickings easy.

Ahead of the Stormtroopers a section of the roof gave way and tumbled through the floor. A man in filthy rags lay in wait on the floor above. The long las in his hands was relatively clean and loaded with a hotshot powerpack. He pulled the trigger and and blew apart the skull of one of the Stormtroopers. He smoothly ejected the powerpack and slapped in a new one.

These events registered on some part of Hethor's brain, but were relegated to being of secondary importance. He knew his job here. "Jolan!" he yelled as more Plaguebearers converged on Gix. Hethor took a second to judge the rubble below and leapt.

Jolan had managed to land on his feet, his power armour helping insulate him from the worst of the shock. Four Plaguebearers converged on him from all sides. He telekinetically flung the one behind back ten meters with bone crushing force. Jolan struck the one coming at him from the left in the chest with a lance of blue-white flame, blasting the daemon to ash and char. The blackened corpse fell as Jolan gave ground to the daemons pressing him from the right and ahead.

The Nurgle cultists were not the only ones preparing an ambush. As he stalked the corridors of the upper level, Danell Keys had found targets of his own. The first was the sniper, lying prone before the gap in the floor. The second was a Plaguebearer standing behind the sniper. The third wore robes splattered with nameless filth who was just behind the daemon. A corona of dark power and buzzing flies surrounded the cultist.

Keys didn't hesitate. A ruby beam flashed through the air and exploded the sniper's skull. Keys turned his hellpistol on the daemon, shooting the Plaguebearer in the right thigh and left knee. Puss and slime exploded from the wounds, as well as shreds of rotten meat. The daemon fell to its hands and knees, giving the assassin a clear shot at the sorcerer. He took it.

He fired twice in quick succession. Beams of red light struck the sorcerer in the chest and did not even scorch his robes. The hooded man raised a leprous hand. Keys was already dodging away as a stream of corrosive slime struck the wall next to where he had been standing and swept the corridor. The assassin ducked out of the way into another room to avoid the stream of corruption.

The daemon rose to its feet, moving clumsily on damaged legs. Around it the walls hissed and crumbled where the bubbling slime had struck them. "Kill him," the sorcerer ordered. The daemon limped around the hole in the floor to pursue Keys.

As both Keys and Jolan fell back, Lydia was involved with a fight to the death. Having impaled the Stormtrooper closest to her, a Plaguebearer lunged towards the young interrogator. Her bolt pistol was loaded the with psyk out rounds that were more than lethal enough to dispatch the daemon. Her bolt pistol was already sweeping up to bear on it. The daemon caught the muzzle with its free hand just before she aligned the barrel with its skull. It grinned, its fetid breath causing the outer layer of her armour to peel away as it drew its other arm back for a gutting stroke.

She twisted and shoulder slammed it, causing the blow to miss and carrying both of them to the floor. Behind her she could hear the screams of the dying and the howl of hellguns as the Stormtroopers struggled to bring the other Plaguebearer down. The daemon rolled on top and ripped the gun out of her hand. She drew a blade buried it in the daemon's neck in a spray of puss, but it didn't seem seriously inconvenienced.

The daemon dropped its sword and fumbled for the visor seals of her helmet. She struggled against it, but its decayed body had no vulnerable spots and it was far stronger than her. It pulled open the visor and leered at her. A swollen tongue emerged between rotting teeth and slid toward her.

Lieutenant Vall jerked the daemon's head up by its horn. The Plaguebearer's attention shifted just in time to see the chainsword in the lieutenant's other hand come down through its left shoulder and sever its arm in a spray of puss and maggots. Lydia rolled to her left, over the daemon's sword. It gurgled in rage as the Stormtrooper jerked it in the other direction and brought his chainsword down again. The howl of the blade became a frothy gurgle as it cut through the daemon's stomach rent the foul thin it two. Lydia's hands were shaking as she reached for her bolt pistol.

Below her the Plaguebearer on the right swung at Jolan. Gix was forced to parry the blow with his rifle. The chaos blade cut his weapon in half. Jolan dropped the pieces and fell back as the daemons moved in for the kill. Both daemons hesitated for a moment when they heard the loud thump of Hethor's landing. "For the Emperor!" Hethor roared.

The daemon closer to Hethor turned to deal with him. Hethor fired a plasma blast at its feet. The explosion blew the daemon down and reduced its feet to bloody strips of rotten meat and oozing bone. The daemon was getting to its feet and Hethor dropped his rifle and ignited his archeotech powersword.

Hethor severed its sword arm at the elbow and then decapitated with two rapid blows. The stinking corpse fell back and dissolved into a puddle of slime and maggots. Hethor charged forward to aid Gix.

Jolan had been able to use the moment of hesitation that Hethor's arrival to smash the daemon closest to him with a telekinetic fist. The blow had knocked it back and sent it staggering. A premonition of danger caused the inquisitor to spin around and draw his inferno pistol.

The daemon that had attempted to strike him from behind had recovered from the telekinetic blast he had struck it with and was now charging him, its rusty blade held high. Jolan shot it at point blank range. Ash and blackened bone fragments exploded away from the heat haze that marked where the daemon once stood.

The other daemon closed on his back. Hethor's powersword took it in the right shoulder and the force field blade exited at the daemon's left hip. Both pieces of the daemon slid to the ground and dissolved into piles of slime.

Meanwhile Lydia rose to her feet, he bolt pistol in hand. She sensed an enemy nearby and raised her weapon. The sorcerer approached the lip of the pit in the floor above, still bearing his mantle of dark power and buzzing flies. Lime coloured light surrounded his hands and the air became thick and oppressive. She pulled the trigger once. The psyk out round tore through his dark wards and blew his skull apart.

Keys fell back the way he came as the daemon pursued him. He had wounded it so it wasn't as swift as he was, but he knew that he would soon run out of room. He wasn't worried.

The assassin dashed into a room full of wreckage and then turned sharply to the left, using the wall as cover. He jumped up, activating the adhesive pads in his gloves and boots as well as the suspensor unit in his belt. His devices were not the equal of the Harlequin gear they copied, but they sufficed. He hung upside down on the ceiling, just to the left of the door.

The daemon charged through the door and Key's hand came down clenching a fifty centimeter powerblade. He separated the daemon's head from its shoulders with one smooth strike. He watched it fall and dissolve into a bubbling mass. That had been easier than he thought. He drew his plasma pistol and went hunting for the sorcerer.

His body was lying just where he had left him. "Knife to Infernas. The eye opened. Pestilence and plague ladle tumbled."

"Infernas rising. Pestilence tumbled. Pestilence unnumbered."

"Seven," replied Lydia.

"Seven," Gix repeated. Seven was the number of Nurgle and it was easier to bind his servants in sevens and multiples of sevens. That probably meant they had dispatched all of the daemons in this particular group. "The journey beckons," he said.

[Vehrec]

Seven is the number of Nurgle. . . and of Bungie studios! They must be agents of the god of disease! Do nurgle's forces organize in powers of seven as well? 49, 343, 2401?

[Imperial Overlord]

Seven is the number of Nurgle. . . and of Bungie studios! They must be agents of the god of disease! Do nurgle's forces organize in powers of seven as well? 49, 343, 2401?

Yes, they tend to.

[Imperial Overlord]

A drop line was bonded with the wall and the survivors of the troupe slid down to Jolan's position. Gix waited for his troops to reassemble and then pointed into the heart of the building. "That way."

The Imperials warily made their way forward. The products of decay were all over the place now. Mold covered walls and corpses. Spores filled the air and threatened to clog rebreather filters. The dead were everywhere, hanging from spikes driven into the walls or crunching under foots. The foul slime of their decay and the buzzing flies that fed off it swarmed around them.

Jolan lead them down a slippery and slime coated stairway. "We must be near their shrine," said Lydia. "Why are there no other defenders."

"We are inside their shrine," said Jolan. "Deep inside. There maybe a few heretics remaining, but the defenders are all dead. Do not fall into a false sense of security. Those that remain are likely to be the deadliest of them all."

She followed him into the dark bowels of the building. The vision systems in their helmets compensated for the feeble light provided by bioluminescent fungi. Hethor exited the stairwell and Jolan followed him. Lydia stifled a gasp when she saw the next room.

It was literally coated in mold and decaying flesh. The room was plastered in unspeakable slime, a multicoloured and multi-layered coating of toxic putrescence. Neridian thanked the Emperor should could not smell the horror. Seeing it and feeling it under her boots was bad enough.

One of the Stormtroopers slipped in the slime, coating himself in the disgusting substance as he struggled to regain his feet. Gix paid him no attention. Instead he slowly walked forward.

At the center of the room was an enormous black obelisk, a square of metal or stone that was five meters on a side. "There's somethin' on it boss," said Hethor. "Writin'"

"Yes," said Jolan. "Zemakki characters." He slowly circled the massive block. "And Eldar ones as well."

"I think this is just the top of it," said Hethor. "The floor cants toward it. Someone tried to dig it out before they filled this room with shit."

"Probably," agreed Gix, his gaze riveted to the obelisk. "This is it, the heart of the darkness."

"Can you read it?" ask Lydia.

"The cogitators can translate the Zemakki, but I can read the Eldar. It looks like they say the same thing."

"Why Eldar?" she asked.

"Because the makers knew their race was doomed," said Jolan. "We who are still pure," he quoted, "confine this lord of corruption away where he may do no harm to any other. The unclean shall not find him and he shall not be able to flee. Here his is imprisoned, until he fades into nothingness. He shall be denied the warp and bound to the physical, to die the true death."

He paused. "This dates before the race fell totally into darkness," he said softly. "A moment of victory over Chaos before their race succumbed. Twenty to twenty five millenia ago, according to our best guesses. A time when mankind was still spreading through the stars and the Eldar were an ancient and mighty power. That's why they chose the Eldar tongue instead of Gothic."

"They trapped a daemon in there?" said Hethor.

"I think so," said Jolan Gix.

"So why didn't the heretics just let it loose?"

"A good question," said Gix. "The answer, I think, lies in the cage. It blocks the warp. The daemon starved in here, for millenia. If released now, it would be returned to the warp as is. Weak, feeble. Easy prey for predators. But if it was released with a suitable ritual and a good host nearby, then it could regain its strength before returning. So it corrupted those who dug here and found it. Maybe they damaged the prison enough so that a little of its influence could seep out."

"So the cage made it so weak that it was easy prey in the warp?" said Lydia. "So it was like a destructive work camp prisoner. Freedom wasn't enough. It had to eat and rest up before it could survive out there."

"Yes," said Gix, "that is a very good analogy."

"But it has been fed," she said. "They've been conducting rituals here. Probably feeding it souls while they try to find a good enough host for it. Throne it must be strong it is that picky."

"It is probably a Great Unclean One or one of the more powerful Daemon Princes," said Jolan. "An unsuitable vessel would decay in hours and possessing it would require effort and energy."

"So what do we do now?" she asked.

"Finish this," said Jolan Gix.

---------------------------------------------------------

The evacuation took less than an hour as the Stormtrooopers abandoned the town. They returned to the Lord Marburg and were put through extensive decontamination procedures and holy anointings. That took another two hours. Jolan Gix stepped on to the bridge of Black Ship without having changed out of his armour.

"Inquisitor," asked Captain Hennel as he swiveled his command throne to face Gix, "what is your will?"

"Target bombardment cannons on that town and destroy it utterly. A bombardment suitable to destroy fortified subterranean bunkers."

"Understood my lord. Your will will be done." He turned and gave the orders. The massive linear accelerators along the Lord Marburg's spine shifted position, pointing down at the planet below. Mechanized loading system slammed in shells that were the size of a modest building. Aim was corrected. The cannons fired.

There were three flashes of white light in quick succession where Cernadia had once stood. Great fireballs slowly climbed into the sky as the firestorms took form. Jolan watched the mushroom clouds rise on an surveyor screen.

"It is done Inquisitor."

"Fire another strike. Just to be sure," said Gix.

"As you wish," replied Hannel. Jolan walked off the bridge. The daemon might survive and regain its strength in the warp or it might not. That was beyond his control, but Telmont's World had been saved from the scourge of Chaos, xenos, and heretics and that was enough. He had done his duty and won. Victory got no sweeter than this.

[Comosicus]

No Exterminatus? Too bad ... Or does Gix not fancy such measures?

[Imperial Overlord]

No Exterminatus? Too bad ... Or does Gix not fancy such measures?

Why in the Emperor's name would Jolan Gix murder millions of the Emperor's loyal servants for no gain? What problem do they face that could possibly justify such extreme measures? He won. Why would he scorch the planet? For kicks? Because he's a traitor to humanity?

[Dominus]

Gix brings up an interesting point on the use of the Eldarin language; I hadn't considered that it would be the de facto 'lingua franca' of the galaxy in the era before the reign of Man, given how zealously the Eldar guard their secrets (and the fact that no human can speak it that well, or so it seems). Really, it seems a downright elementary supposition, now that I think about it.

In any case, I almost feel sorry for those poor Zemakki who tried to seal away the greater daemon only to have their work undone when their descendants finally, and irrevocably, fell into darkness. A tragic end for them, to be sure, but at least this particular threat has been dealt with. Or so we hope...

[Comosicus]

No Exterminatus? Too bad ... Or does Gix not fancy such measures?

Why in the Emperor's name would Jolan Gix murder millions of the Emperor's loyal servants for no gain? What problem do they face that could possibly justify such extreme measures? He won. Why would he scorch the planet? For kicks? Because he's a traitor to humanity?

I had the impression that the entire planet was corrupted ... I might need to reread the previous chapters then.

[Imperial Overlord]

Hethor rang the bell to Gix's room. A minute later the inquisitor answered. "What is it Heth?"

"Boss, can we talk?"

Jolan nodded. "Come in." The inquisitor moved away from the door and Hethor entered. Hethor could tell the suite was not to Jolan's taste, having been decorated with a heavy hand and an eye towards including as much gold and as many cherubim as possible.

The inquisitor wasn't wearing his coat or his weapon belts and the soldier wasn't wearing his armour. Gix approached a luxurious cedar cabinet with gold fixtures. "Care for a drink?"

"Yeah, I could use one."

"Whiskey?"

"Make it tall." Jolan poured a tall glass for Hethor and filled a globe with brandy for himself. Hethor sat down in chair across a table of shining black glass. Gix placed the whiskey in front of his friend and took a seat on the couch opposite.

"What's on your mind?"

Hethor fidgeted and took a long drink. The liquor was smooth and smoky, with a kick like a bull grox. Hethor fiddled with his glass. Jolan took a sip and waited. "It's the Zemakki boss. They've been on my mind."

"How so?" asked Jolan.

"Not the ones we killed, the dead ones. The ones that imprisoned the daemon."

"What about them?" said Jolan as he took another sip. His manner was casual, but his concentration and focus were intent.

"All my life practically, I've been killin' xenos. That and heretics. Not much difference between them, so I thought. And then there are these guys. I can't stop thinking about them. They were like us. Doin' our job."

"That is more or less correct," said Jolan. "You feel a degree of kinship with them." It was not a question.

"They're xenos, but they were fightin' our fight. Still fightin', even though they were losin'. Leavin' a message across time for the benefit of others, other species, even knowing they had probably lost. They were noble I guess. They were like us. I can't stop thinking about them."

"The Emperor, in His wisdom, did not decree that every alien species must be destroyed. We live in a galaxy at war and we fight for the future of the human race. You have seen what some xenos do. Genestealer infections, pledging themselves to chaos, seducing men with promises of riches and power. To combat these dangers it is necessary for humans to fear and distrust the xenos because there are many they must fear and distrust. We are different."

He paused to take a sip. "We see the larger picture. A Guardsman must only know how to kill the enemy. I must decide whether or not that Guardsman must be deployed. Not all xenos must be dealt with by fire and those that can be permitted to survive will not have the power of the Imperium unleashed against them. It is alright to respect these ancient Zemakki. They were enemies of our enemies and have done mankind a great service. You should keep it to yourself because most will not understand, but there is nothing wrong with such thoughts."

"Thanks boss," said Hethor. He took a long drink from his glass. "That straightens out things."

"I am glad to be a help." Jolan got up. "Heth?"

"Yeah boss?"

"If you have any other problems like this, don't hesitate to come to me. Remember you loyalty to the Emperor and mankind comes first, and everything else is secondary."

"Got it." He finished off his drink. "Thanks for the talk boss." He stood up.

"Are you sure everything is alright?"

"I'm a simple guy boss. That's why I do my job and your do yours. I had a hard question. You gave me a good answer. Don't need anymore."

"You might want to save the bumpkin act for someone who might fall for it."

"I said I was simple, boss, not dumb."

"True enough," said Jolan. He raised his glass. He took a sip. "Sometimes simple works better than complicated."

"Ain't that the truth," agreed Hethor. "What are we up to next?"

"Something very complicated."

"Damn."

[Imperial Overlord]

Jolan looked up and watched the empty body float in the tank. "Anything?" he asked Gard Vikal.

"I'm sorry inquisitor. No response."

"Check the rest of your instruments," Jolan said as he unfolded his legs and stood up. The vat containing the empty body was at the center of this room, buried deep in the body of the Eternal Will. Silver ward symbols covered every inch of space not occupied by machinery. Everything was focused on the contents of the vat.

"I regret to report that the psychic energy seems to have caused some cellular damage. The body will probably begin hemorrhaging heavily within the hour."

Jolan stifled a curse. "Recycle the tissue. We'll have to start again with another one."

"The next clone won't be usable for at least six months."

"I'm aware of that Gard," as he looked at eyes of the vacant shell. Nathan Talstrem's eyes. "It will have to do."

The ritual had failed and failed repeatedly with variations on conditions. Drawing forth Nathan's soul, now drifting in the warp, was going to be harder than he had thought. Jolan Gix was in theory an expert at this, having summoned and bound multiple daemons in the past. True resurrection, on the other hand, was maddeningly elusive.

But such a prize! Nathan Talstrem had lived ten thousand years ago, served in the Great Crusade, and received rank from the hand of the Emperor himself! He had been lost in the warp for a few months subjective only to find that ten thousand years had passed. He had rejoined the inquisition, met Jolan Gix, and then died channeling enough warp power to stagger a mighty daemon prince.

But only his body had perished, burned out by the power it could not handle. Nathan's warp soul had survived and retained his identity, coming to Jolan's aid with both warnings and direct intervention. Despite his gratitude, that was not Jolan's chief motivation in trying to save him.

Nathan had lived when the Emperor's will had resounded through the galaxy, when a golden age had almost been at hand. He was a repository of knowledge about the true aims and goals of the Emperor, unsullied by ambitious reinterpretations or self serving obfuscations. Through him the Emperor's voice would resound through the ages and help guide his followers.

So Jolan Gix had back tracked, moving from Radical Xanthite practices back to their puritanical Thorian Resurrectionist roots. The differences between them were fewer than the puritans might imagine, although they were prone to such delusions. Gix never lied to himself about his methods or the dangers of his studies. It was probably his greatest protection against corruption, other than his absolute conviction to serve humanity.

So far his attempts had been nothing but failure after failure. He had expecting calling a warp soul back to a body cloned from cells of the originally to be easy and similar enough to binding a daemonhost to a vat grown body, but his efforts proved otherwise. He remained determined, but a little disheartened.

"Gard, I'm going to attend to some other business."

"As you see fit inquisitor."

The adamantium door slid open to allow the inquisitor to exit. He walked down the access corridor passed void shield generators, adamantium blast doors as well as sensor and gun pods. Jolan had no intention of letting anything physical or of the warp to breach his sanctum.

He proceeded down the long passages of the Eternal Will until he reached a launch bay. He entered a small shuttle and sat down in the command seat, signaling the bridge to be allowed to take off. Great armoured doors opened wide as a force field contained the atmosphere. The engines ignited and the shuttle entered the void.

Before him were the great steel lattice work construction yards in orbit above Adraxis. In a bay that once had held the Eternal Will while her modifications were being completed a Mars class battlecruiser was slowly taking shape. Nearby was a kilometer long hab station for the workers and technicians. Constructions cradles and space stations seemed to fill the void.

Jolan touched the controls and the shuttle's engines fired, carrying it upward. Above them floated a great orbital fortress-shrine of the Adeptus Mechanicus, hovering like a thunder cloud above the construction yards. The fortress-shrine was dark and cold. Jolan sent a transmission. There was a long pause and then an answer. His shuttle drifted forward.

Powerful docking arms gently clasped the small craft and brought it in close. There was a hiss of hydraulics as the airlocks mated and then doors cycled open. Jolan was expecting to be greated by a magos with some Skitarii and servitors as an honour guard. Instead there was a single Man of Iron waiting for him.

Red lights stared at him from the sockets of the skull shaped head of the two meter tall robot. The Men of Iron had been created in the image of their creators, their bodies mimicking the outlines of the human form. From within that metal casing a formidable and inhuman intelligence regarded the inquisitor.

"You anticipated my purpose in coming here," said Jolan Gix.

"The chances that you had come to speak with any of the limited intellects that surround us was too low to be worth calculating," said the machine in a faintly put upon tone of voice. "I suppose you have some sort of task with which you require our assistance?"

The Men of Iron were programmed to serve humanity, not respect it. Jolan found them slightly unnerving and disliked the idea of a machine that regarded its masters as its inferiors. Still, their abilities could not be denied and their programming secured their loyalties with chains stronger than steel. "I do need your help."

"As expected."

"You are capable of designing an archeotech vehicle that fits the specifications I give you?"

"Yes. Easily. I could, in fact, improve on such a design if ordered." The machine almost sounded depressed.

"Even if the vehicle in question is a capital ship."

The machine hesitated for a fraction of a second. "Yes."

"These are the specifications," said Jolan Gix. He handed the machine a data plaque. "Can you do it?"

Red scanning beams briefly passed over the data plaque. "Such a vessel might be possible to design," the Man of Iron answered. A faint trace of what might have been respect could be heard in its answer. ""You are pushing the limits of the technology. It could only be constructed in a few advanced yards."

"I know. Feel free to make any improvements that occur to you. Have the ship yards begin construction as soon as possible."

"As you wish."

[Dominus]

Oh, Gix is a crafty one. Forgive me if I sound a little insensitive, but I've always suspected that he had some ulterior purpose in resurrecting Talstrem; something more tangible even than an old friendship. And now I know. Jolan Gix is certainly farsighted and ambitious, but we've known that since the very beginning. Inadvertently undermining the Ecclesiarchy's dogma could (or should I say will) prove very dangerous, however.

And a new capital ship, eh? What, has he gone and designed a new class of Black Ship for himself? A new design to replace some of the aging and antiquated models still in use by the Navy? The possibilities are almost endless...

A request from the peanut gallery, if I may: more of the Men of Iron! They are, after all, so endearingly reminiscent of KOTOR's HK-47, in all his misanthropic glory.

[Vehrec]

...
What? Did that Iron Man say that right? What in the Warp could Gix have cooked up that pushes the limits of Golden Age technology?? Unless there is somthing seriously limiting what examples of that age they can produce.

[Imperial Overlord]

The Adraxian shipyards have limits and their is only so much that can be crammed into a single hull. That's all I'm saying until the big reveal.

Credit for the Men of Iron's personalities goes to Necronlord, they are his babies. Their personalities more closely remember Marvin from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy than HK-47.

[Imperial Overlord]

Jolan Gix stepped into the Eternal Will's map room. The walls were lined with paper maps of warp routes, the nearly priceless secrets of the Navis Nobilae displayed for anyone to see. A holo display table dominated the center of the room, a machine dedicated to a single purpose. Flags, magnets, and annotations marked the maps on the wall. Lists of names and positions hung besides the star charts. Despite the shear number of charts and the capabilities of the table, only one region of space was displayed: The Mandrassi Trade Route.

Selanon Kay looked up at Gix. "I have something you need to see," the Navigator said seriously.

"What is it?" Gix asked, instantly dead serious.

"I've been adding in the data you stripped from the reports Doresh sent you," began Kay. Lord Inquisitor Haakim Doresh has sent a small mountain of data to Gix, not only travel information relevant to the Mandrassi Harrowing, but regarding potentially questionable actions by a number of inquisitors.

"If you have something lay it out," said Gix testily. His failure to solve that string of atrocities was as sore point.

Selanon Kay caught the inquisitor's agitation and activated the holo map. A long stream of stars appeared in mid air. Dancing around them were the golden markers that represented ships. Dating stamps attended every vessel. The systems where the Harrowing had occurred were haloed in blood red. Date stamps marked the crimes. "Previously the ship Tormentium was at several sites, but eliminated from consideration due to the distance between it and the rest of the incidents. Two data points to make us reconsider."

"Go on," said Gix, hunger in his eyes.

"One is Navigator gossip and espionage. There is something of a rivalry between the Kays and Belevecas. Tormentium's Navigator apparently works on a ship named Zephyr. Zephyr's specs are wrong to be a match to be Tormentium, but they are roughly the same size."

"Zephyr was present or nearby three of the attacks," said Gix. The details of this case he had burned into his brain.

"Exactly. Now thanks to Lord Inquisitor Doresh we know that Tormentium was not really at Sendoru Sigalas. Instead she was at Morkidar. Morkidar is too far from the targets to have been involved, unless it used a little known and tricky warp route. A warp route first discovered and mapped by House Belevecas."

"Throne," Jolan Gix whispered. "I think you might have done it."

"It is still circumstantial," said Selanon Kay.

"It is better than I have done," said Gix. "Thank you Captain Kay."

"I did my duty sir. And, with respect, it would have not occurred if you hadn't done such a thorough and meticulous job."

Jolan waved it off. "Doesn't matter. You got him. Or rather, I now know where to look."

"What now, my lord? Tormentium is an Inquisition ship."

"Now we go hunting for better evidence."

"Do you have an idea how to go about that?"

"Not yet, but I will. They're all going to burn."

[Dominus]

Heh, inspiration can come from the most unexpected sources at times. Gix is fortunate that he has such loyal and dedicated personnel -- I daresay a group working under a sadistic tyrant like Heldane wouldn't be anywhere near as effective or useful.

And having a Navigator in one's camp always helps smooth things along, given how deeply intertwined they are with the Imperium's government and power structure.

Unreliable elements at work in the Inquisition? Oh Emperor, perish the thought!

[Chris OFarrell]

Thats why I love this fanfic.

Jolan is absolutely dedicated to the Emperors work, but is able to see where he is going and knows when to walk away (unlike people like Eisenhorn) from the edge.

But just as much of his strength IMO is his people who are absolutely dedicated to the Him, to the Emperor and to the Imperium (in that order). Someone who is willing to see the Imperium restored, believes completely in it but ignores much of the stupid stuff like the idea that the science and analyzing xeno technology is heretical (he's damn lucky he has Gard for that matter as well).

I mean in 200 years the guy might well get one of the Choas Gods themselves pissed off...and he'll probably figure out a way to take it down