40K/Inquisitor RPG. The Line of Damnation.
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With a whine and a shriek the assault carrier made landfall. As its gunship escorts maintained station above it to provide covering fire, Naval Security troopers poured out to establish a perimeter. The Gash had already been retaken and legions of Imperial troops were pushing into the hive's depths to finish off the remaining heretics. Dazed and numb survivors bowed and nodded as hunter-killer teams swept past them.
The black armoured Naval Security troops surrounded Pater, Lena, Varian, and Gix; forming a protective corodon around the battered inquisitors. The leader saluted Lena. "Lieutenant Garshon of the Fifth. What are you orders Commodore?"
The black armoured Naval Security troops surrounded Pater, Lena, Varian, and Gix; forming a protective corodon around the battered inquisitors. The leader saluted Lena. "Lieutenant Garshon of the Fifth. What are you orders Commodore?"
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For all her weariness, one didn't get to the rank of commodore in the Emperor's Navy without a keen tactical sense. Especially not, despite a lack of overt discrimination in most areas, as a woman. "Reinforce the perimeter here and in other imperial held areas while we pull back. You needn't bother venturing any further. This hive is dead anyway, and I intend to finish it from orbit."
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Gix lay back in the acceleration couch as the assault boat boosted for high orbit. He was so damn tired. Vonrilyental and Tastrem were dead, which meant he and Pater were the last custodians of the conspiracy. They were also the last ones who knew about the Men of Iron without being under their sway.
He reached for a pad and recorded a message to be transmitted. It mentioned nothing about the Men of Iron, but Kyra would be able to read between the lines and know where to investigate in the case of his death or disappearance. Then he closed his eyes and let exhaustion take him.
He reached for a pad and recorded a message to be transmitted. It mentioned nothing about the Men of Iron, but Kyra would be able to read between the lines and know where to investigate in the case of his death or disappearance. Then he closed his eyes and let exhaustion take him.
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Jolan let the spray of the shower was over him. The water might be recycled, but Emperor be praised, he felt clean. He slipped out of the stall and dried off. Next he attacked his stubble with gusto and slipped into a clean pair of clothes. A weapon's belt went over them of course, as did the conversion field harness. He regarded his stormcoat. Las bolts, shrapnel, and slugs had done a job on it. They would have done a job on him as well if the conversion field hadn't drunk most of their energy and he hadn't been wearing armour underneath.
He was feeling somewhat hungry and knew it would get worse. He had barely eaten over the last three days and exerted himself ferociously. His body made demands. He touched his vox to leave a message with Pater to meet him at his earliest possible convienance. And then he went hunting for the Commodore, after making a brief stop at a mess hall.
He found her on the bridge. She, after all, had only been through one life and death fight, not two. She acquiessed to his request for a private confrence and surrendered the bridge to a subordinate before leading him to the strategerium.
She dismissed her under officers. Their functions here were duplicated by the crew on the bridge. "What do you wish, inquisitor?" she said. All business.
"A favor, Commodore Novadalorin. I know of a good officer, who has done her duty well, even if it has embarrassed certain people in a far away subsector. Putting her back into the Navy is easy, but a woman without a patron and the stink of the inquisition will not get the chances she deserves."
"And you want me to be that patron?"
"I'm asking you to treat a good officer fairly."
"If I didn't know better inquisitor, I would say you cared about your tools." Her voice was not totally devoid of warmth.
"I do," he said, "but sometimes I still have to use them until they break."
"Very well inquisitor. If she returns to active service, she will have a friendly ear on this ship."
"Thank you commodore." He turned to leave.
"Have you told her yet?" she asked.
He turned. "That I'm approaching you for you help? No."
"No. How much you care for her."
He shook his head. "Not in so many words."
"Then do it. Now. You don't know how much time you will have. Don't waste it. Especially if she decides to accept my offer."
He smiled wryly. "You have doubts? She's wanted this since she was a child."
"Sometimes you find that there are other things in your life that matter. May the Emperor guard you, Jolan Gix."
"And you as well commodore." He turned and left. What happened next was Severa's choice, but he had little doubt which one she would make. At least she would be spared seeing him die right before her eyes.
He was feeling somewhat hungry and knew it would get worse. He had barely eaten over the last three days and exerted himself ferociously. His body made demands. He touched his vox to leave a message with Pater to meet him at his earliest possible convienance. And then he went hunting for the Commodore, after making a brief stop at a mess hall.
He found her on the bridge. She, after all, had only been through one life and death fight, not two. She acquiessed to his request for a private confrence and surrendered the bridge to a subordinate before leading him to the strategerium.
She dismissed her under officers. Their functions here were duplicated by the crew on the bridge. "What do you wish, inquisitor?" she said. All business.
"A favor, Commodore Novadalorin. I know of a good officer, who has done her duty well, even if it has embarrassed certain people in a far away subsector. Putting her back into the Navy is easy, but a woman without a patron and the stink of the inquisition will not get the chances she deserves."
"And you want me to be that patron?"
"I'm asking you to treat a good officer fairly."
"If I didn't know better inquisitor, I would say you cared about your tools." Her voice was not totally devoid of warmth.
"I do," he said, "but sometimes I still have to use them until they break."
"Very well inquisitor. If she returns to active service, she will have a friendly ear on this ship."
"Thank you commodore." He turned to leave.
"Have you told her yet?" she asked.
He turned. "That I'm approaching you for you help? No."
"No. How much you care for her."
He shook his head. "Not in so many words."
"Then do it. Now. You don't know how much time you will have. Don't waste it. Especially if she decides to accept my offer."
He smiled wryly. "You have doubts? She's wanted this since she was a child."
"Sometimes you find that there are other things in your life that matter. May the Emperor guard you, Jolan Gix."
"And you as well commodore." He turned and left. What happened next was Severa's choice, but he had little doubt which one she would make. At least she would be spared seeing him die right before her eyes.
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Pater sat in his quarters, the lights dimmed. They'd had to remove his eye and repair the optic nerve, at his insistance. He didn't want to lose his humanity too quickly. An occasional hiss-click gave away the fact that his lungs weren't entirely organic anymore.
He sighed and stared at the Dataslate again; KIA, KIA, MIA, WIA etcetera, ad infinitum. Almost his entire retinue wiped out in a matter of days, for the second time running. But it was his Emperor-given duty to root out and exterminate the servants of chaos, and he would have sacrificed ten thousand more retinues to complete the task, if it had been required.
His vox beeped. Another meeting with Inquisitor Gix. Pater chuckled to himself as he thought, not for the first time that day, that the universe had a profound sense of irony; Only the two most junior Inquisitors had survived to continue a legacy that spanned 20 milennia!
He sighed and stared at the Dataslate again; KIA, KIA, MIA, WIA etcetera, ad infinitum. Almost his entire retinue wiped out in a matter of days, for the second time running. But it was his Emperor-given duty to root out and exterminate the servants of chaos, and he would have sacrificed ten thousand more retinues to complete the task, if it had been required.
His vox beeped. Another meeting with Inquisitor Gix. Pater chuckled to himself as he thought, not for the first time that day, that the universe had a profound sense of irony; Only the two most junior Inquisitors had survived to continue a legacy that spanned 20 milennia!
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Gix sat back in his chair, waiting for Pater to make his entrance. How ironic it would be if after surviving all that they had gone through, they were to die feuding over what would come next. Hopefully, it wouldn't go that far, but Pater had run hot in their last disagreement.
The room was plain and Severa had swept it for bugs. A junior officers lounge. Safe. Neutral. He hoped. So he waited alone for Inquisitor Novum.
The room was plain and Severa had swept it for bugs. A junior officers lounge. Safe. Neutral. He hoped. So he waited alone for Inquisitor Novum.
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"We are the only survivors who know what is truly going on," replied Gix. "And you are aware how delicate and potential gainful the true matter is. Whatever our personal differences, the needs of the Imperium come first. We must come to some kind of agreement over strategy."
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"The knowledge we possess could start a civil war if handled improperly. The Men of Iron are a great resource, but we cannot trust beings who hold humanity in contempt. We need to act, to covertly bring new people to our cause, while withholding the final details until they are irreversably committed. We need to promote and spread the Dark Age lore at our dispossal, but not in such a way to cause conflict with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Ultimately, we aim to make the Mechanicus irrelevant by slowing spreading science through the Imperium. And we need to agree on this."
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Pater had nodded for most of the list, but abruptly stopped when Gix mentioned the Mechanicus. "The Mechanicus performs an important task in keeping their knowledge secret, no matter what one thinks of their cult of the Omnissah. The entire structure of the Imperium since the Heresy has been built around not giving the average person too much power."
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Gix sighed. "The Mechanicus are useful. They have always been useful. Nothing more, nothing less. Their power derives from the stranglehold they have on technos. Their understanding of technos is steeped in ritual and tradition. They, with a few exceptions, neither innovate nor truly understand what they guard. What we hold here is worthless, unless employed on a large scale. Science must come back to the Imperium. From Mars, to Necromundia, to factory worlds on the eastern fringe, man must produce the technologies of his ancestors. The Mechanicus will not allow this. They will confine the knowledge to their elite and wrap in ritual and that will not save the Imperium."
He stopped for a moment. "When was the last time you blessed your weapons Pater?"
He stopped for a moment. "When was the last time you blessed your weapons Pater?"
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Pater raised his remaining eyebrow. "Last night. Was that meant to catch me out?
Don't worry, I understand you. The Mechanicus won't allow this technology to be released without centuries of 'tests', but they have a stranglehold on technology both materially and theologically. You're not just talking about dismantling one of the largest five power blocs in the Imperium, but fundamentally altering the state-sanctioned religious beliefs of an entire galaxy. It may just be my outlook on life, but I find the idea of a grass roots movement implausable."
Don't worry, I understand you. The Mechanicus won't allow this technology to be released without centuries of 'tests', but they have a stranglehold on technology both materially and theologically. You're not just talking about dismantling one of the largest five power blocs in the Imperium, but fundamentally altering the state-sanctioned religious beliefs of an entire galaxy. It may just be my outlook on life, but I find the idea of a grass roots movement implausable."
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Gix smiled. "Pater, it is already happening. The Adeptus are Arbites trained, but do not confine themselves to Arbites rules. Neither does the Inquisition or the Officio Assissinarium. As for religion, you should have talked to Talstrem more. What we believe today is nothing like what was believed in his day."
Gix stopped for a moment. "We aren't in the business of plotting the overthrow of the Mechanicus. We are nurturing and feeding the forces that will force them to change or fall by the wayside. Forces that will make the Imperium stronger than ever before."
Gix stopped for a moment. "We aren't in the business of plotting the overthrow of the Mechanicus. We are nurturing and feeding the forces that will force them to change or fall by the wayside. Forces that will make the Imperium stronger than ever before."
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"Which is why we must do it covertly. The Mechanicus opposse the desemination of knowledge, because they know it will erode their powerbase. They will kill us if they know what we have and bury the technos in reliqueries deep inside void shielded vaults where no one will ever use it. And the Men of Iron may claim to be only interested in helping us, but they hold humanity in contempt. It is not such a far leap that they must rule us 'for our own good.' We play a dangerous game. We must put our plans in motion and carefully select fellow travellers, most of whom will never know the full truth. And we need to be together on that point."
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"Agreed. May I suggest that a way to quickly dissemenate elements of the technology would be by having it 'discovered' here on the Eastern Fringe? With this sector of Imperium space under constant threat from the Tyranids, Orks, and Tau, many military commanders are willing to bypass normal procedures if it can give them a military advantage."
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"A good idea, Pater, but you will have to be careful about it. Any large scale influx of tech will be noticed by the Mechanicus. Cut outs, intermediaries, and iron clad cover stories will be necessary to dead end their investigations."
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Pater nodded, mind spinning with possibilities. A space hulk, 'accidentally' disgorged from the Warp in a threatened system. A carefully-placed cache on a contested world... He brought himself back down to earth. Or the nearest aproximation.
"What about our own little subsector, right here? It might have gone unnoticed before, but after the Chaos revolts, there will be a lot of questions at Sector High Command. We might have to pull our weight to keep things quiet."
"What about our own little subsector, right here? It might have gone unnoticed before, but after the Chaos revolts, there will be a lot of questions at Sector High Command. We might have to pull our weight to keep things quiet."
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"This needs an untainted investigation. Fortunately, we have the Mechanicus who got trigger happy as convienent scape goats who are even more convienently dead. And the survivors are busy worshipping the Men of Iron. A large archaeotech stash, which is almost the truth, will cover that end. As for the chaos investigation, that is another matter. A lot of unanswered questions."
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"We're not going to put a lid on it Pater. Renegade cruisers, several cults, a daemon prince and the Black Legion were involved. We burned down a battle barge, one Abaddon himself had used as a flag ship, above Cyrus Gamma. Three inquisitors spent ten years hunting down a smaller, feebler conspiracy. What we have here is an uprising that threatened a whole subsector. Lord Vonrilyental is dead. If our colleages in the various Ordos are not on their way, they soon will be."
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