Redemption (40K)

[SirNitram]

The Inquisitor from the Ordo Malleus sat across from the terrified Guardsman. There was a soft click-click of the Inquisitor tapping his fingers on the table; it was a carefully practiced rhythym, one that shifted in places, dropped a little too fast here, or a little too slow there, throwing off the other man's concentration. It was, like most things the Inquisitor did, a careful tool in breaking a man's will and learning everything.

The stare that felt as if he was reading the thoughts off the back of the hapless fool's skull was another addition. It focused a few inches behind the eyeballs, and held an intensity that only one who has learned of the horrors of Chaos, and survived, his sanity intact, could pull off without fail.

The Guardsman, loyal and brave, couldn't withstand that. The words spilled forth.

"The first sign of things going wrong was our Psykker. The Astra Telepathica man. He started talking, constantly. Not the messages; he was repeating words over and over, a chant. It got louder and louder." The guardsman swallowed hard. "He was chanting 'Iron Within, Iron Without.'"

The tapping stopped. The gaze intensified. The poor Sergeant could feel the horrible sensation of the Inquisitor entering his mind, as if to confirm the veracity of this. A few moments later, the unpleasant feeling departed. "Continue." A single word from the Malleus Puritan.

"The ships came within a day, blowing away our defenses in moments. We didn't have a chance. We don't keep any big ships around, we're not an important planet." The Sergeant breathlessly continued. "But it got bad when they started arriving here. Big, claw-shaped things, falling from the skies. They'd hit the ground and they'd come out; you'd swear they were Astartes, sir, so we didn't think they were the enemy. The General went out to speak with them..."

That horrible pressure again, in his head. This time, the Inquisitor didn't let up before he spoke. "Keep talking."

"He went to them, sir, expecting there was something we could help with. There's always been legends, sir, about Astartes here, helping us." There was that pressure, intensifying. He didn't have to say it; the Inquisitor knew the man he was interrogating was the only one to ever see an Astartes of the Emperor on this planet. "It was a slaughter, sir. They paused from their foritifcations of the landing zone and simply opened up with their bolters. The General and all his Senior Officers were killed in a moment."

"And what did you do in response to this?" The words were brief, clipped, and possibly the longest sentence the man had spoken yet.

"We started moving everything we had to those fortifications, sir. The Russ divisions were in place first, and..." The pressure increased. It felt like an Ogryn had his hand over his head and was squeezing.

"What did you do in response to this?" The Inquisitor repeated.

"I... ran, sir. I ran." The Sergeant admitted. The pressure didn't let up, and he couldn't help but spill more words out. "I wasn't deserting, sir! I was heading for.. For where I had seen one of them. The real ones, sir!" There was a subtle change to the pressure, but it didn't let up. "The mountains, I went to the mountains, where I had been hiding when the Orkz came.."

Something broke in the Guardsman's willpower, and the memories replayed themselves. First himself, a child, sent to hide with his family as the Ork horde had come crashing to this world. He had wandered too far, as children do, down into the caves. The caves had been worn but natural near the surface, but deeper...

Deeper, they became smoother, more obviously worked. High Gothic.. He hadn't been able to read it then, so they were just shapes.. Had been set into the walls, endless rows of them. He had been running his fingers over the carvings.

Then he had stumbled into a lighted, larger chamber.. Chamber was the right word, it was obviously made.. Housing endless rows of solid-black powered armour. There was not a single symbol on any of them, just utter black.

Three shapes had appeared near the other side of the chamber, and they moved with inhuman speed to close the distance. The little boy had been surrounded by those massive.. Things.. in their robes, and had sobbed quietly in fear. A third had approached, and as if by his presense alone, had soothed the child. It was a presense of calmness, of safety.

The fourth figure had knelt, and listened to the scared child's words. As soon as the description of the attackers had passed his young lips, the fourth nodded to the others, and they had left. The fourth left too, after a moment, reassuring the boy.

Days had passed in the caves with the rest of his family. When a runner went to see what had happened, the Guardsmen defending their homes were all dead from Orkz.. But the Orkz were slaughtered, by weapons unllike those used by the Guard regiments.

The other memory picked up. Now larger, the caves had seemed smaller. The markings were now more clear, but he hadn't stopped to read them. The chamber came up, and he had called for help. He had screamed himself hoarse, trying to summon the strange, robed beings that were here.

When they arrived, the armour was already on them. He had looked at the lead one immediately; he felt the same calming presense from him, even if the armour obscured his features. He had babbled.. The words were a jumble in the memory.. But there had been a gentle, calmly pressure on his mind, almost a direct opposite of the Inquisitor's heavy-handed invasion now.

The Sergeant had been told to lead them, and he did, quaking as more and more of the black-armoured warriors joined, walking from the caverns.

A great host had arrived as the artillery of the Iron Warriors and the local PDF traded fire. The only clear memory of the battle had been the battle cry from the featureless-armoured Astartes as they charged.

"For Redemption!"

The pressure vanished. The memory vanished. He fell back into his own body, in the interrogation chamber. The calming sensation was no memory now; the familiar presense was nearby. How..?

"Justicar Rendavius." The Inquisitor said coldly as a robed Astartes, twice the height of the others, stepped in. His robe was beyond simple; it was common. Were it not for the size, it would be more fitting on a peasant than one of the Empeor's Finest. "I did not know you had returned from Titan so soon. I beleived all your Chapter's vessels were engag-"

"Inquisitor Lord." The Astartes nodded his head. "I will be taking over this situation. I arranged transport, for I knew it necessary. Your retinue and the forces under your command will no longer need to remain on this quiet backwater."

"Justicar, I will not. This world has been contaminated by Chaos, and there must be a purge and a full investi-"

Again, the Space Marine cut off the Inquisitor with calm words. "No one here will remember what happened, save that they were saved by great sacrifice by the Imperial Guard. They were beset by Orkz, nothing more."

The Sergeant stood up quickly. "Wait a damn min.." His face went black. He went silent. A few moments passed. "...So as I was saying, my Lord, I don't see why Malleus is involved. It was just an Ork invasion. They happen here."

The Inquisitor Lord met the Astartes gaze. There was a brief battle of wills, but the Inquisitor held up against the mental onslaught. "I will be making a full report on this, Justicar. You can be assured of that."

As the retinue of the Inquisitor and his conscripted forces left, the Marine walked away from the settlement. The Sergeant watched the strange warrior go, feeling that same sense of safety and calm. In such a dangerous galaxy, such moments were treasured.

[HSRTG]

I look forward to more. This looks to be a very interesting story.

[Ford Prefect]

Will there be more? It's extremely intruiging.

[SirNitram]

Will there be more? It's extremely intruiging.

I hadn't intended there to be more, though I might see what can be pulled out. It's technically a sequal to 'Betrayed', my other 40k story.

[Dartzap]

For those who have not read Betrayal...

It makes slightly more sense now

I think another chapter would suffice to finish this off, so we can know why the Traitors returned.

[Vanas]

*waves hand *These are not the Traitors you are looking for. Move along.

[LadyTevar]

*huggles the Nitram* Don't pressure yourself, m'love. Somethings take time. This was well worth the wait

[SirNitram]

The senior Techpriest's mechandendrites slithered and coiled, like metallic snakes, as the heavily cyborged member of the Machine Cult listened to the Inquisitor. The two men wielded very different power in the Imperium. Technically, the Inquisitor had authority, but this was mitigated by the fact the Machine Cult could have him and his entourage killed long before an order went out.

"And you beleive, kzzit, that these 'Ork invasions' are in fact the work of fallen Space Marines?" The voice of the Techpriest was distorted by the many implants. "And there are somehow Space Marines with solid black armour there? Do not be foolish. The armour's Machine Spirits would never abide such a dishonor."

"Nevertheless. It requires investigation. By the authority of the Immortal Emperor, you will grant me the forces I require." The Inquisitor said sharply. The mind of the Techpriest was resistant to his powers, but the authority of the Ordo Malleus was.. Considerable.

"My forces are required to safeguard this Forgeworld." The mechadendrites' grasping claws clicked as the Techpriest spoke. "To engage in this is folly. Why do you not seek out Imperial Guard regiments?"

"Because I require a Techpriest's understanding of the technology of the Astartes." The Inquisitor said simply. "And.." He pulled out the ace. "There are records indicating a Standard Template Constructor was on the world."

All six metallic tentacles snapped around. The cyborged infantry of the Techpriest's personal guard turned as one. Silence rang like a gong. The Techpriest studied the Inquisitor for a long moment. "Kzzzit. You will seek others if I refuse, and they will walk before the Omnissiah's greatest creation, unworthy as they are. Very well. I will assemble a Questing force to investigate this world."

Within a few hours, the forces of one Techpriest's personal guard, augmented by the Skitarii; the cyber-augmented Tech-Guard troops. Tanks, walkers, and a few hover-speeders were among the force. No one knew what would lurk in those tunnels. But rumours of 'Ork Invasions' had been across the sector for mileenia. And the Inquisitor intended to find out what the truth behind it all was.

[The Grim Squeaker]

Looks good, I'm glad to see you start a relatively new story that I can get into without a few dozen pages of back-reading .

This new chapter looks awesome BTW, love how you wrote the Tech-priest juzt Right [click]

[LadyTevar]

Ohho... the plot thickens. *rubs hands with glee* I can't wait to see how you work out that one passage you were having trouble with.

[White Haven]

The usual way. With a large quantity of heavy explosives.

I approve, this's some nifty stuff, as usual. And from what I know of the source material bouncing around your skull, the Inquisition is gonna bounce off the ceiling.

[SirNitram]

Ships descended on the world by the dozen. Inquisitorial Stormtroopers were the vanguard, followed by the Tech-Guard cyborgs that guarded Forge Worlds. The local PDF and Guard regiment stood aside, their Senior Heroic Officer, known on this world as the Shieldmaster, watched, annoyed.

"The Ordo Malleus and the Adeptus Mechanicus are not natural allies, Comissar." He rumbled, scratching his chin, covered in the five-o-clock stubble that was as white as the hair on his head.

The Comissar, a young, idealistic man just dispatched to oversee the Shieldmaster's regiment, tilted his head. "All who serve the Imperium are allies." There was a pause, and common sense overrode dogma for a moment. He had never been a very good Comissar, hence his posting on such a distant world, where only Orkz attacked. "But you are correct. The Cog-Men would prefer to sequester themselves away, or tinker with alien technologies, far from the unusual goals of the Malleus' investigations."

"I am troubled, not only because of their alliance, but because the Malleus presense we see suggests we are in danger of Daemon attack." The Shieldmaster stated simply. There was a pause as both men watched the transport vehicles being unloaded. "I understand there was a Sergeant who interacted with a Malleus Inquisitor not too long ago."

"Yes, sir. He apparently had some hand in the battle with the Ork Waaagh that briefly attacked us. The Grey Knight who arrived took over, and it all seemed.. Well. A Grey Knight would know if an Ork assault was forced due to cultists, yes?"

"Still, Comissar, I am troubled. Instruct this Sergeant that whatever he saw or did, I want him to secure it for my inspection before these Cog-Men or the men of the Ordo find it. Be quiet about it; it's best if we're surprised when they find us, as opposed to being ordered not to act."

The Comissar was feeling the conflict of interests, but the alternative was to stand idle. The idle mind was a gateway for doubt, and doubt was the first step to Heresy.

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

The squad of Guardsmen were not used to the stare of a Comissar on the back of their necks, as they moved down the tight caverns. Rough rock gave way to constructed steel, and still it went deeper. Even the Comissar was silent now. All the passages in the Guardsman's Uplifting Primer couldn't remove the sense they were now in a Mauseleum.

The hall was the one where the Sergeant said the black powered armour should be, but it was gone now. There was no mistaking the signs of recent activity, though. The various emblems of the Emperor were everywhere. As was a symbol none of the group could identify, but was splashed with black paint, to become illegible.

The one at the front held up a hand for the group to stop, and they clustered near a corner. Voices, and footsteps, were closing in.

"Kzzzit, this place recently housed a large number of Adeptus Astartes and their equipment. The Chapter Marking is painted over, but our pict-scans, brrrrw, reveal it is one not present in the archives for thousands of years."

"Spit it out, Priest." The Inquisitor's voice was flat. "And I do mean all of it. I know your lackeys are perturbed by this place."

The mechandendrites clacked and clicked, as if a fidgetting action, or perhaps to sooth the Omnissiah. "Kzzzzit. It is a marking not seen since the Heresy, of the Iron Warriors. Their pre-*click*-corruption emblem. There is more. The few suits we have uncovered are solid black."

"Black. That's wonderful. Very insightful." The sarcasm dripped.

"You do not, brrrw, grasp the signifigance. An Astartes' armour is a living thing, imbued with a Machine Spirit as proud as it's wearer. To desecrate the armour so, the Spirit should be full of rage at it's user. I cannot, kzzzzit, explain why this unit is able to function."

There was the sound of feet running, and a heavily synthesized voice. "My Lord," Said the Cogitator-created voice. "We have encountered an Astartes warrior and three unidentifiable subjects in a nearby chamber."

Those in the main chamber went into a run. The Comissar unclicked a safety, the laspistol whirring up. "Quickly. We must ascertain the nature of these Space Marines immediately." The threat of Being Found Wanting was enough; the squad was hurrying along, lasguns powering up.

The chamber was undisturbed, despite the large force of Coggies and Inquisitorial Stormtroopers just outside. The lone Marine was apparently aware, but forcefully ignoring them. His armour was pitch black, and it was only the Crozius in his hand that identified him as anything more than a common Battle-Brother.

"And in the darkness, the God-Emperor of Mankind did face Horus, the Great Traitor, and struck him down with the fury of Man against the abomination of the Warp, and 'lo, the God-Emperor wept, for in that moment he had seen his most beloved son, lost, forever. And his heart broke, knowing his loss..."

The three others in the chamber were massive. It was clear they, too, 'wore' the black armour of Astartes. In the sense that a crab 'wore' it's shell. The metal had become fused to tainted, horrifically mutated flesh. They were docile as they heard the words, recounting the life of the God-Emperor. Mournful groans, as warped as their bodies, accompanied the tale of the Emperor having to slay his most beloved child. The sadness was almost palpable.

It was the Inquisitor who interrupted the recitation, striding forward and slamming his Force Staff to the ground, the Imperial Eagle glowing with Psykker energy. "By Order of the Immortal Emperor of Mankind, Chaplain, you are under..."

The rest of it was lost in the sudden sound as the litany's of the Emperor were stopped. The three massive once-Marines stood up. Their flesh moved, as massive chain-swords tore their way out of flesh, splattering blood that bubbled ominously, moving to the ready. "For... The... EMPEROR!"

The Chaplain just sighed, as the three Obliterators were broken from their restive trance. He looked to the Inquisitor. "Idiot." He said simply. The weaponsfire from the Tech-Guard and Stormtroopers impacted harmlessly on his armour and defensive forcefield, as he hoisted his own Bolt-Pistol.

[White Haven]

....Imperial Chaos Marines.

...Impe--*fzzt*

Thaaat's interesting. Just curious, have you read any of Ben Counter's Soul Drinkers trilogy? I'm just starting, myself, but they seem to be angling towards a Chapter dealing with Chaos corruption from within, it'll be interesting to read through both at once.