The Blood of Kings (40K-In Memoria)

[Imperial Overlord]

"Move, move, move!" yelled Hethor D'eckor. "The hilltop! In the Emperor's Name, hold it if you want to ever see the light of the Throne again!"

The ragged remains of the Stormtrooper platoon headed up the rocky hill. They were all but dead on their feet, but still made good speed. Those who didn't possess nearly limitless reserves of willpower and in top physical condition washed out well before this level. As tough as they were, none of them wished to look in D'eckor's direction.

Crimson lightning flashed in the violet clouds shrouding the skies overhead and the wind. The wind began to howl, whipping up black dust from the ground. Funnels began to drop from the clouds, but even the storm paled in comparison to the bellows and roars that split the air. Hethor turned around, facing the nightmare. He kept his gaze low, trying to ignore what was happening in the skies.

Lydia Meradin carried Jolan Gix forward. The interrogator wore the same pattern of night black power armour as her master. The extra mass slowed her down to a fast walk.

"Get to the top of the hill!" said D'eckor. "They'll probably get a good read from the homer up there!" The howling wind ate his words, but he was shouting through his vox. Her helmet pick ups would convey his words.

"What about you?" she replied.

"One step behind!" The earth shook as the two combatants tore at each other. "Hurry!"

She strode passed him, carrying their unconscious master. Hethor's gaze involuntarily lifted and he got a good luck at the two monstrous creatures. He flinched and turned away.

They were almost tall enough to touch the clouds. One was covered in fur the colour of dried blood and wore armour plate of impossibly tough brass worked with signs of murder and slaughter in a thousand languages and the mimetic patterns of a hundred intelligent species. Spiked black iron chains dangled from its armour and on each spike was a bloody skull like beads on rosaries. Talons tipped his hands and slaver dripped from the dog-muzzle of a face. One hand gripped a black iron mask whose haft was studded with brass skulls. The other held a multiheaded flail that ended in iron skulls. Great wings protruded from its back. Bloody light pulsed from its body and its bellows split the earth and sent lightning cascading through the sky.

The other nightmare matched it in size and power. Two great arms ended in monstrous, over sized pincher-claws and a third wielded a jade flange headed mace. It's skin was as pale as snow and covered only by a jeweled harness. A single swollen breast on the left side of its chest was left deliberately uncovered, although calling the harness a form of piece meal armour would be generous. Its head was somewhat humanoid, with an elongated fang filled jaw and two pairs of massive, bull-like horns protruding from the hairless skull. Jade flames danced over The Keeper of Secret's body and flew from its hand to strike the Bloodthirster.

The land fell away from where the two greater daemons battled, great cracks that radiated away from the battling daemons. Hethor hurried after Meridan. "This is D'eckor. Patch me through the long range vox to a ship!"

"Acting," said the Stormtrooper with the backpack vox. A smaller unit could do the job, of course, but the backpack set was quite powerful so that it could transmit in adverse conditions. Like the ones they were currently in. "I have the Resurrected Might. Patching you through."

"This is Hethor D'eckor, acting for Inquisitor Gix! The Bloodthirster has been occupied! We're heading for high ground with the teleport homer. Get into position to retrieve us!"

"They might not," said Lydia. "Not after. . . after . . ."

"Fuck that," growled Hethor. "Severa is running the fleet. Whatever those nancy boys feel, she'll make sure that the ship will be there and Gard at the teleport controls! Just worry about moving!"

The earth shook again. Hethor lost his footing and fell. The big veteran picked himself up and kept moving up the hill. The snap-crack of high energy laser beams passing through air sounded overhead. The Stormtroopers had targets and he could guess what they were. Throne.

The screams of the horde split the air. The warp corrupted hormagaunts ran forward over the broken ground. They resembled a swarm of lizard-wolves covered in yellow scales and red armour plates, a murder-pack numbering in the hundreds. Some possessed fur, others horns or a third eye. The mark of chaos was stamped on each and every one. The ruby threads of hellgun shots sliced through armour and flesh and downed a score of the Tyranid mutants on the leading edge of the swarm. They slowed slightly as they poured over the fallen bodies of their fellows and pursued the remaining humans.

Frag grenades from launchers detonated the muffled booms, sending sheets of flesh shredding metal through the closest gaunts. Hethor pulled two grenades, flicked the timers to ten seconds, armed them and dropped them behind him to bounce down the hillside. Hethor surged forward as fast as he could. Behind him the grenade rolled into the front ranks of the charging gaunts and exploded.

Ruby beams continued to slice through the air and Hethor could now hear the thump of the grenade launchers firing. Hethor's grenade rose up, seemingly of their own accord, and then flew down the hill to detonate in a chain of explosions through the mutants' front ranks. The healthy stepped over the dead and pushed the wounded out of the way as high energy lasers burned through organic, vaporized the water in their bodies in straight lines through their bodies, and burned their way out of their armour to crater the flesh of the next hormagaunt in line. The wave was slowing.

Lydia's grenades flew down the hill to form another line of detonations. The hellguns continued to due murderous work, dropping scores of tainted Tyranids. Throne, the defensive positions on the top of the hill were almost within reach. Throne, they might live through this. When the last Thunderhawk had gone been smashed out of the sky he had been sure they weren't going to make it.

Lydia reached the line and put down Gix. She joined the firing line, sending bolts down range with what was undoubtedly her usual deadly accuracy. Hethor reached the line and spun around.

The hormogaunts were almost half way up the hill, dying as they closed. Hethor opened up with the hellgun part of his rifle. There were so many gaunts and the hellguns were so power hungry that they might run out of ammunition and be overrun even if they managed to halt the advance. Gaunts advanced and died and the survivors kept on coming. The advance slowed to just above a crawl.

Then the first hellgun ran dry and then the next. And the next. The Stormtroopers who ran out of power threw down grenades. More ran dry. The hormagaunts pushed forward, still dying. The swarm was a quarter of its previous size, but it would be enough. Enough to overrun, to rip and to tear, to kill and maim all the humans before rescue arrived.

"Lift me," Gix whispered. Lydia spun. "What?"

"Lift me," said Gix. "Now."

The interrogator bent over her mentor and pulled him up with power assisted muscles. Stimulants and pure will were the only reasons Jolan Gix was still conscious. The strain of maintaining the hold was almost overwhelming He fought passed the buzzing in his skull and the immense pressure to just let go and collapsed and reached out with his will. The power of the warp flooded into him, coming far too easy as it always did in this accursed place. Emerald flames erupted from and center of the hormagaunt horde and rolled over them, leaving seared and blackened bodies in its wake. Jolan slumped in Meradin's arms and the flames died down, leaving behind charred bodies and sheets of heat shimmers.

There was a long moment of silence and then Lydia lowered Jolan's body to the ground. "How long?" asked Hethor. "How long until pick up?"

"They're maneuvering into position," said the vox officer hoarsely. "It'll still be a few more minutes."

"Throne," said Hethor.

"At least we have a good vantage point," said Sergeant Herzune.

"Like that matters in this Emperor forsaken pit," said Hethor. "Nothing is as it should be."

Hellguns were power thirsty and usually ran of belt or backpack units of varying sizes. The Stormtroopers were sharing out their last standard lasgun powerpacks which served as emergency ammo loads. Each one would only last for a handful of shots, but a handful was better than nothing. Grenades and other weapons were redistributed. The temperature began to climb and the clouds above the battling daemons turned to fire.

"What's happening?" asked Herzune.

"Their battle is destroying the world, or at least this part of it," said Lydia. "The material universe and the warp are blended together here. Reality responds more readily to their will and their will is to destroy each other. This is a consequence."

"Holy Throne of Terra," Herzune breathed.

"Sir!" said the com officer. "The Resurrected Might is signaling that its ready to pick us up."

"Tell them to pull up your men," said Hethor. "We'll follow next." If they weren't turned into blobs of protoplasm. He didn't trust teleportation in the Eye. Too bad for the troopers if it didn't work out, but Hethor wasn't going send Jolan up in an untested teleportation environment in the Eye of Terror where two Greater Daemons were beating the hell out of each other.

The Stormtroopers vanished in a shimmer of cyan light. Hethor waited next to the teleport. A short eternity later the teleport field enveloped them. Hell flashed before his eyes, countless faces shrieking silently and then he was yanked back into the material universe.

He, Lydia, and Jolan were standing in the teleportation chamber next to the teleportation homer. The door to the chamber opened with the hiss of hydraulics and white armoured Adeptus Sororitas warriors entered the chamber with their bolters pointing at them. They stopped coming when there were six of them in the chamber.

"We weren't possessed," said Lydia. "Get a psyker or psy tracker and clear us."

The leader, whose armour was marked with golden fleur-de-lis spoke. "Jolan Gix, Hethor D'eckor, and Lydia Meradin you are under arrest for heresy and conspiring with dark powers. You will surrender arms and yourselves and come peacefully or we will execute you on the spot." The inflection in her voice made it clear, even through the armour's voicoder, that she preferred the latter option.

Hethor dropped his rifle. "We surrender."

[Vehrec]

What the hell, you still have unfinished 40k stories, BOOO.

update plz.

[White Haven]

Woo! Gix's back!
...And in a world of trouble. Sisters and an inquisitor THAT radical in the same room? Messy...

[gunldesnapper]

Ahhhh more 40K from the master!

[Comosicus]

I'm glad to see you didn't let the death of the RPG thread stop your story. As far as I can understand from this chapter, things happen here after the events in the RPG. Can you give us a better time reference?

And yeah ... I know that time flows different in the Warp and the Eye

Good to see Jolan is back.

[Imperial Overlord]

I'm glad to see you didn't let the death of the RPG thread stop your story. As far as I can understand from this chapter, things happen here after the events in the RPG. Can you give us a better time reference?

And yeah ... I know that time flows different in the Warp and the Eye

Good to see Jolan is back.

Everything will be revealed.

[Chris OFarrell]

Holy crap, just saw this, awesome! The story continues!

Also good to see that D'eckor is more than smart enough to just drop the gun and say 'we surrender', and not to argue the point...at this time.

[Comosicus]

Holy crap, just saw this, awesome! The story continues!

Also good to see that D'eckor is more than smart enough to just drop the gun and say 'we surrender', and not to argue the point...at this time.

If I got the time frame right and my memory is good, Gix is without a ship now, forced to "partake" in the hospitality of fellow Inquisitors. Who not all have his best interest at heart.

[Imperial Overlord]

If I got the time frame right and my memory is good, Gix is without a ship now, forced to "partake" in the hospitality of fellow Inquisitors. Who not all have his best interest at heart.

You are correct.

[Raj Ahten]

To echo a few others its good to see Gix again. I'll be on the lookout for updates .

[Enigma]

I really do want to strangle you Raj.

[Imperial Overlord]

The strategarium was shrouded in darkness. In the center of the room holographic ships coasted along vector lines, copies of the leviathans that were fighting and dying in the void outside. Four junior officers stood at the side of the holodisplay, painted a ghastly blue colour by the unwavering display, handling com traffic between the Resurrected Might and the rest of the Fleet.

Their presence was superfluous. The four articulated steel and adamantine skeletons lurking in the deepest shadow who handle all the coms traffic easily, but it suited humans better to deal with other humans so they merely handled data flow and stood by to take over should a human falter or fail. They were the Men of Iron and they existed to serve.

Severa Valen sat rigidly straight in her command throne, data streaming in through the connectors at the base of her skull. Bloody red holos marked the chaos vessels, a mixture of renegade vessels and possessed Tyranid vessels. Daemon touched krakens were kept at bay by a pair of Astartes Strike Cruisers while the Gothic class Lord Demos and the Lunar Class Hierophant Behlal guarded the Resurrected Might's flanks as the Apocalypse battleship moved into near orbit to teleport up the last of the surface party.

A lumbering behemoth detached itself from the main body of the Chaos fleet on an intercept course with the Resurrected Might. Its course would take it across the bows of the cruisers, but at long range. The Tyranid craft was at least the size of a grand cruiser and was undoubtedly daemon possessed. The same enhanced calling abilities that would allow the lictors to draw the hive fleets away from Imperial territory and into the Eye of Terror had brought this mixed fleet to them.

"Direct Peregrine Squadron on a flanking loop to engage enemy escort squadrons Lambda and Kappa from the starboard-rear. Battle Barge Divine Wrath and associated elements are to continue to hold the line. Strike Cruisers Indomitable and Relentless along with Strike Vessel Squadron Uriel at to do a three quarters burn forty degrees to starboard. Shrike and Thrush Squadrons are to do a torpedo run using Indomitable, Relentless, and Uriel as cover."

Junior officers conveyed the orders and the ships began the slow dance into position. The Chaos fleet was composed of over half again as many vessels, although they tended to mass slightly less. Command and control was poor, she could tell that with a glance. The thick cloud of Chaos worships were dispersing to meet and attempt to flank the Imperial line, but they were operating on an individual and squadron level. Elements on the edges were trying to flank, but the main line wasn't maneuvering to hold her elements. Their rear elements weren't maneuvering to block the Imperial flanking elements that were in motion behind the main battle line.

"Let me know the moment Inquisitor Gix is on board," she said. The Tyranid monster ship was still closing on the Resurrected Might. They were just inside effective range of the battleship's weapon batteries, but the daemon possessed Tyranid organism hadn't fired yet. She activated the vox link the to bridge. "Captain Sorensen, engage the closing vessel with all dorsal batteries. Overcharge all lances, turn ten degrees starboard, but hold fire with lances. Begin a nova cannon firing solution for targets in section sigma nine by seven. Standby to deathroll on my mark."

"There are no targets in section sigma nine by seven," replied Sorensen.

"There will be," she replied.

"Orders acknowledged admiral." The gun turrets lining the back of the mighty battleship turned to port and locked into position. Flares marked the discharge of near lightspeed plasma beams as the Resurected Might took the corrupted Tyranid vessel under fire.

The Tyranid monstrosity resembled a great whale of Holy Terra's lost oceans, albeit a whale more than seven kilometers long. Protrusions and tendrils sprouted like barnacles and seaweed along the leviathan's body. Plasma beams flashed around its flanks and struck its snout. Some of the beams dissipated harmlessly in dazzles of light and fury that could set a city alight. Other blasted open its hardened carapace and ravaged the soft tissue beneath. Barnacle-like protrusions on the ship's snout unleashed volleys of fiery projectiles in response.

More missed than hit. Far more missed than hit. The Resurrected Might coasted through a storm of fire, a few shots impacting on her void shields. Part of Severa's mind noted the minor damage to void shields, which was no more and no less than she expected. "Hold course. Get the teleport lock on." A flicker of attention to the nova cannon, noting how long it had been reloading. "Broadside position for lances in forty-seven seconds. Acquire firing solution and stand by. Deathroll to commence after initial broadside."

Her attention shifted back to the fleet. The ships had crawled forward in the big display. Torpedoes were crawling back and forth, a few flickering out as they were blasted apart. The outer flanks of the chaos fleet were attempting an envelopment and their reserves were pushing through the center. Just as she expected. Her own flanking elements were pushing out from the rear and would envelop the enemy as soon as the light flanking elements were decimated.

<Status of retrieval?>

<First party recovered> Gard replied over the haptic linkage. <Inquisitor Gix is still on the planet's surface. High probability of retrieval within the next two minutes, barring hostile action.>

<Continue,> was Severa's only reply. A brief burst of orders to the rest of the fleet. Forty seven seconds were up.

"Engage with lances," Severa ordered. "Deathroll after the strike."

The Apocalypse-class Battleship's sides were lined with titanic quad laser batteries designed to converge their beams into a single strike point. The overwhelming power of the massed lance strikes could burn through the strongest armour and gut a light cruiser with a single volley. The massive capacitors feeding the guns were hot with overcharge, but the Adraxian built systems could handle the strain. Massive dedicated logic engines calculated the proper placement of the guns and huge motors shifted the mammoth weapons into position.

The guns discharged, silent and invisible and in the void of space. Here and there they struck pockets of dust and gas and flashed into incandescent view as they passed through. The ship killing beams struck the Tyranid leviathan. Several were deflected away by the unholy energies that shielded the ship. Others burned the way through the Tyranid's hull and into its guts.

The Resurrected Might began to roll clockwise about it's axis. The dorsal guns shifted position to keep fire on the Tyranid vessel as the port lances began to recharge. The starboard weapons rolled into position. Hellish energies discharged, burning great rents in the already wounded Tyranid craft.

The battleship continued rolling and the port lances came on line again. They hadn't had time to fully charge again, let alone build up overcharge, but their fury was still fearsome. The sorcery shielding the Tyranid vessel had greatly diminished. Almost every beam struck home. Fluids boiled as the leaked from enormous wounds in the Tyranid's body. The vessel's snout was a massive bleeding wound. Weapon barnacles and feeder tendrils had mostly been destroyed, although the aft maneuvering jets were still intact. The Resurrected Might continued to roll. The starboard lances came into alignment.

Severa's attention had already shifted away before the killing volley was fired. A squadron of enemy escorts had shifted course to take them through sigma nine by seven. Her lips briefly curved into a smile. The nova cannon shot would hammer them and the strike cruisers and frigates would carve the up the rest on this side, assisted by long range fire from the Resurrected Might. Shrike and Thrush Squadrons would have a clear torpedo run into the flanks of the main body and that would the spearhead of the thrust that would turn the enemies flank and shatter them. The fighting and dying would take hours, but the outcome had already been determined. Even if she died here and now the other fleet commanders would step in and finish the job. The pattern was clear enough now.

<Status on Inquisitor Gix?>

<On board and en route to surgery,> replied Gard. <Prognosis unknown. I am moving to take charge of his case. We are being escorted by Sororitas who are allowing me to proceed but I presume are present to take Inquisitor Gix into custody. All of them are equipped with hexagrammic armour and psi jammers.>

<What?!> she almost shouted down the links.

<I believe this is in response to the Inquisitor's actions on the surface.>

<I don't give a damn,> she sent coldly. They would come for her as soon as the battle was over. Perhaps sooner. Sororitas meant Lena and that meant that she couldn't rely on the ship's crew either. She pushed aside the pain of betrayal. There was one card left to play. She changed channels. "Knife. Ninth level. Action."

[White Haven]

Oooh, shiny. Deathroll, I like that word. As for Gix, you've successfully piqued my interest, not that that was hard to do given...well...it's Gix.

[Night_stalker]

Hmm, I sense the Inquisitor might be taking a flight out a airlock before too long...

[LadyTevar]

Did Gix *plan* to have the Tyranids Chaos-infected, so the lictors *would* summon them all to the Eye?

[drakensis]

Possessed Tyranids? Oh... that's not good.

And you mis-spelt Severa as Several the first time she was named, which confused me quite a bit first time reading the paragraph.

[White Haven]

Heheh. Automated spellcheck strikes again!

[Raj Ahten]

I doubt "Knife" is going to kill whoever ordered Gix's arrest otherwise Gix could just be executed by the Sisters of Battle. I'm putting my money on a rescue plan.

On a plot note given how unorthodox and dangerous the whole operation is arresting Gix now is the height of stupidity. If someone had qualms about Gix's deamon using ways the smart play would be to arrange an accident or arrest him after the op is over. Now the whole expedition is imperiled by possibly devastating infighting.

Of course very few people know of Gix's true methods so once revealed other inquisitors might figure he's been corrupted by chaos given they are in the eye of terror and all....

[Imperial Overlord]

Lena Novadlorian, former Admiral of the Imperial Navy and now Abbess of the Adeptus Sororitas and a Living Saint of the Holy Imperium of Man, turned as the door opened. A squad of Sororitas in full armour preceded Inquisitor Varian into the room. "How did it go?" she asked.

Varian was more than a head taller than the tallest Sororitas in the squad, a mix of his own huge size and the more massive construction of his own suit of gold power armour. Outside of it he was as big and as well muscled as Hethor D'eckor. The inquisitor stepped into sanctum. The naval officers manning their stations along the walls pretended to ignore him. "Gix was already down when he arrived. His people offered no resistance. He's in surgery now."

Lena got up. "Follow me." She lead the Inquisitor into an adjoining office. She sunk down in well padded chair that automatically conformed to her body. Varian's armour precluded him from sitting, of course. She looked at the Inquisitor from the other side of the oak desk. "Fewer ears here. We can speak freely. Frankly, I'm rather surprised you only wanted to arrest him."

"I'm not a fool," replied Varian, "despite what you may believe, Monodominant sympathies don't turn men into idiots. If I resort to kill teams and assassination instead of bringing the accused to trials, everyone in our cabal who even thinks I, or anyone else, might have suspicions regarding them will react with preemptive assassination. We'd be in pieces in a decade."

Lena nodded. "That maybe an overly pessimistic assessment. Gix is the only one who will be a problem."

"I'm not so sure of that. Ristani hesitated before agreeing to an arrest, just an arrest. He was my student, the best man ever to serve as my right hand and you know how hardline he is and I can stand here and tell you that I can't be sure he wouldn't have turned on me if I had given a kill order. As for the others, summary execution of Gix would be a problem at best. And he isn't the only one given to . . . questionable pursuits. Can you honestly tell me what Novum will or won't do? His mind is less understandable than Gix's, for all of his surface orthodoxy. No, killing him out of hand would have been the wrong move. And there are other concerns."

"Nathan."

"Yes," he admitted bluntly.

"Alright," she said. "You were right to engage in, ah, limited measures. How did it go?"

"We've got most of his people. We're holding off on Valen until after the battle. How are we doing?"

"We're wiping the floor with them. What happened that made you decide to move against Gix?"

"Bad. We unleashed the last of the lictors, but they had us pinned. Then we got the news that the chaos fleet included captured Tyranid ships. We all knew that meant if they had been following in our fleet's wake that the lictors we had previously seeded could have been detected and killed. Then came the Bloodthirster."

"Gix said he could stop it, given time. We thought he meant some kind of sorcery and were willing to risk it. Even the great Commodus Voke was willing to work with Xanthites and our backs were in a corner. It would have all been for nothing if we didn't do something."

"What did he do?"

"He summoned a Keeper of Secrets and turned it against the Bloodthirster." Varian shook his head. "The ritual wasn't very elaborate and couldn't have had time to conduct much in the way of rites or incantations. Thank the Throne I wasn't there, but it didn't take Jolan very long to whistle up his dog. To see such a thing, to see it pass almost within arms reach of you, you have no idea."

"I think I do."

"With respect, unless you've been that close to one, you don't. The thoughts that go through your head. The filth that oozes into your mind. Such obscenities should not exist."

"Agreed. Have you given thought to our esteemed colleagues? Because we're certainly not taking him to a conclave."

"Knowing what he knows about us? What he might reveal? The allies he could call upon. Of course we try him ourselves. Yes, if he survives surgery. They will agree with me. Talstrem, Novum, and Ristani would not permit Gix to be executed out of hand, even for this, but that's as far as they'll go. He'll get a chance to defend himself, but that's as far as they will go. Their affection for him is nothing compared to the magnitude of his crime."

"How bad are his injuries?"

"I don't know. He was fine when I teleported out. Ristani and several Men of Iron are with his physician. If I knew Gix might die without me lifting a finger, I wouldn't have bothered arresting him if he didn't survive surgery. Easier and cleaner that way."

"That die is cast," said Lena.

"There is more truth to that then you might realize," said Varian. "Gix has allies within the Inquisition and other places. The friends we called upon, that we supplied with Adraxian technology from before the fall of the Dark Age, brought the troops and ships that make up this fleet. Gix's friends have power of another sort and we are all engaged in the most extreme form of tech heresy. More than enough to hang us all. We have to make a clean sweep of his agents."

"You mean I should be ready to sign the death warrant of my friend and protege? Yes, I'm aware of that and have been for some time. It won't be pleasant and won't be without regret, but it will be done."

"Good."

"It also won't be popular with the fleet."

"You are though and you're a living saint. It will be accepted. Besides, we have seeded the last of our augmented lictors. We done with the Eye. We'll head for the Cadian Gate and our part will be done. Hopefully, over the next few decades the surviving lictors will lure the Hive Fleets into the Eye with their augmented signals and our enemies will tear each other apart, crippling both."

"You realize that will be Jolan Gix's argument on why his actions are justified."

"I know," said Varian, "but we are right and he is wrong."

[Comosicus]

So ... to make a summary: things go from bad to worst for the expeditionary group, caught between demon-possessed Tyranids and Chaos forces, Jolan makes the impossible again and saves their collective arses by pitting a Slaanesh Greater Daemon to stop the main threat - a Khorne Bloodthirster. And the asshole Monodominants only care that their sensibilities have been offended by the daemon's presence, no matter that they are employing the same tactics against their current enemies. More likely they are aware of how easily they would fall to corruption in Jolan's place. And now they seek to bring him down by turning the Saint and the Ecclesiarchy against Jolan, when he's at his weakest point.

[White Haven]

A Bloodthirsty of Khorne.

Spellchecker strikes again!

[Raj Ahten]

Never underestimate how much of an asshole/hypocrite an Inquisitor can be. Varian's fine with summoning a deamon to save his own ass but once he's safe, its time for a hanging.

[Imperial Overlord]

Jolan Gix opened his eyes. He was as weak as a kitten and the back of his skull was buzzing like beehive. He was lying in a sanitorium bed, surrounded by too many monitors and machines. Gard Vikal was sitting nearby. A Man of Iron stood over him. "Gard," he rasped.

The medicae stirred from where he sat. "Inquisitor. Are you thirsty?"

Jolan nodded. Gard picked up a cup with a straw and pressed it to his lips. "A lot has happened. You've suffered some minor brain damage. We repaired it and the damaged blood vessels with microscopic medical homunculae, but it is likely that you have lost some function. Do you know who you are and where you are?"

"Eye of Terror, Apocalypse class battleship Resurrected Might. I am Inquisitor Jolan Gix and that standing over me is a product of the most extreme tech heresy, an intelligence without a soul, with whom we are engaged in a compact to preserve the Imperium of Man."

"Clearly you still have a grasp of the larger issues. That is good."

"I can't feel the warp."

"We are in a null room inquisitor. Shielded against the warp. Your colleagues did not approve of your choice to summon a Keeper of Secrets."

"Can't be," said Jolan. "If I was in a null room I would feel-Throne."

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

The conference room was by the standards of the Imperial elite, spartan. The table was a slab of polished black teak and the chairs were expensive leather, but the baroque ornamentation favored by high ranks of the Imperium was notable only by its absence. Silver aquila plaques on the walls were the room's only decoration. The spartan appearance of the room had a power all of its own.

Seated at the table were four men and one woman. Lena Novadlorian sat at the head of the table. The tall woman was the equal, or perhaps the superior, of the men at the table. There was the hooded form of Pater Novum, who beneath his robes was as much machine as an Mechanicus arch-magos. Prius Ristani was outwardly more human in appearance, but perhaps even more machine. Adraxian and Mechanicus high technology had been employed by both to enhance their capabilities and replace damaged or failing flesh. Nathan Talstrem, on the other hand, was a tall and handsome light skinned man with dark blond hair. Opposite him was the brutal form of Inquisitor Varian, heavily built, bald and brutal.

"So he's lost his psyker abilities?" Lena asked.

"For now," said Nathan. "Quite possibly he'll regain them all with time. It's like a crippled man having to relearn how to walk."

"This changes nothing," said Varian. He momentarily locked eyes with the lean form of Prius Ristani, his former interrogator, before sweeping his gaze across the table. "He's merely temporarily less dangerous. His actions, and the long term threat, remain."

"Agreed," said Nathan. "It's immaterial to whether or not we should have a tribunal. What isn't relevant is the unilateral nature of this action."

"My orders were to take Gix into custody, not to harm him," said Varian. "No usurpation of anyone's authority was attempted or accomplished. There is, you agree, sufficient grounds for an inquiry?"

"Agreed," said a melodious voice from Pater Novum's vocalizer. "As long as the trial is conducted by us. Survival contra-indicates allowing Gix's knowledge of our operations to fall into the hands of a uninvolved Inquisitors."

Varian blinked. "Yes, of course." It would also prevent Gix from being his influence to bear on any trial and forcing an aquital. There were no Xanthites among their remaining numbers.

"How is the rest of the fleet reacting to this?" Ristani asked. Morale was never far from the ex-commissar's mind.

"Well," Lena remarked, "so far. The Astartes are Astartes. The rest no better than to get involved in Inquisition business. Gix doesn't matter to them, but Severa was a winning admiral. Her arrest won't be popular, but it's nothing we can't manage. Of greater concern is the damage we took in this engagement. There's no place for more than minor repairs in the Eye and we've stirred things up. We have to make the Cadian Gate before we end up fighting another fleet action."

"There is another concern," said Prius Ristani. "One of Jolan's people evaded our net. Danell Keys."

"The assassin," said Varian.

"And the most likely agent of Lord Inquisitor Vidor's demise, if it wasn't enemy action," added Pater Novum. It probably was enemy action and, in any case, they might have had to kill the hardline Monodominant anyway. The transgenic lictor modifications and the cooperation with the Men of Iron had pushed well passed the boundaries of what Vidor had considered acceptable behavior.

Lena's lips were set in a hard line. "What's being done?"

"We have sweep teams," said Ristani, "but you know better than most how many places there are to hide on a ship this large. If he's made preparations, it'll be even harder."

"Yes," said Lena, "and Vidor didn't go out of his way to hide his desire to see Gix dead."

"Gix would have taken steps," said Prius Ristani. "So would have Keys."

"What does your expert say?" asked Varian.

"She says Danell Keys is the deadliest assassin who isn't a part of the Officio she ever met."

"Can we get Gix to bring him in?" Lena asked.

"No," said Ristani. "Even in Jolan tries, Keys won't go for it."

Lena leaned back in her chair for a moment. "Signal the Avenging Furies Chapter. We'll move ourselves and Gix's high value associates to their battle barge. Their Thunderhawks will handle transport. Even assassins have limits."

"Smaller crew, greater familiarity with each other, and Astartes," said Varian nodding. "Not to mention the difficulty of getting onto the ship in the first place." The other inquisitors signaled their agreement.

"Then it's settled," said Lena. "We move everyone and we start the trial as soon as possible. The chances of something adverse happening increase the longer we have him as a captive back in Imperial space. Sweep teams will capture of kill, "almost certainly kill, "Danell Keys unless he evades us and Jolan Gix is found innocent. Security to remain in place, but Jolan is to be given access to any reasonable materials to conduct his defence. This is about the future of the Imperium and the bounds which even an Inquisitor may not cross, not Radical against Puritan. He'll get a fair hearing in every respect." Which was really all she needed to convict Jolan Gix. It was a pity. He had so much promise, but like so many men he was undone by his hubris. Better for him to die now, a hero of the Imperium, than to live long enough to be a damned pawn of Chaos.

[Night_stalker]

Hmm, sounds like they are having some difficulty finding Keys. What are the odds that he's disguised himself as the Thunderhawk's pilot?

[Comosicus]

Hmm, sounds like they are having some difficulty finding Keys. What are the odds that he's disguised himself as the Thunderhawk's pilot?

From two updates ago:

<I don't give a damn,> she sent coldly. They would come for her as soon as the battle was over. Perhaps sooner. Sororitas meant Lena and that meant that she couldn't rely on the ship's crew either. She pushed aside the pain of betrayal. There was one card left to play. She changed channels. "Knife. Ninth level. Action."

"Knife" is the call sign in Cryptia (the battle language Gix's men use) for Keys. He was just given free reign to engage in some contingency plans. What that means, we'll find out.