41K RPG : Into the Eye

[SirNitram]

"I was under the impression all inquisitors suspected and hated one another. It came with the job description." Malkamar admitted, shrugging. "But this makes sense. There's a great deal of power here. Is that how they have multiple Chapters at their beck and call?"

[Pcm979]

"As a rule, your Chapters tend to be more receptive to our message." Gyllia said, nodding. "By their nature, they are somewhat independant from mainstream Imperial culture. Closer to the Emperor's original intent, you might say."

[SirNitram]

"A questionable assertion. The Emperor intended us to shed our humanity so the humanity of our brothers and sisters would be safe from the horrors we battle. Yet, you are correct that the worlds we rule may be closer to his view: Safer from the taint of the Warp by our vigilance, free from many of the influences of the corrupt elements of the Imperium, and not ruled by the Ministorum or Cult Mechanicus.. No offense in the latter case."

[Pcm979]

"None taken." She said easily.

[Cynical Cat]

"Jolan."

"Yes Gard." The inquisitor was laying cards out on the table

"I have Pater's explanation for the incident. It is . . . . interesting."

"Proceed."

"He says that they channelled all available power through a his surveyor system crosslinked with their teleporter."

"And?"

"It fits with the facts. He omits to note that he failed to observe what his surveyors were recording. If we fill in the blanks we have the following scenario: Pater recieves panicked transmitions, does not confirm the facts with his own surveyors and instead immediately orders the crosslinking. The teleport system picks up everyone near an active transmitter or a teleport homer. And they blow half their surveyors and their power grid in the process."

"Possible. It fits with Pater's previous behavior."

"A rookie mistake," replied Selanon Kay. "There's a reason for years of training in academies, although you inquisitors do seem inclined to believe you know everything."

"Yes, we do tend to do that. We need to evaluate our position."

"We are outclassed in almost every way," Melina Sevall replied. "Pater Novum and Prius Ristani both command battle fleets composed of Astartes. Vidor has enormous local resources. Novdalorin will be bringing a fleet. OUr allies are inquisitors scattered throughout the Imperium, irrelevant spy networks, and reform inclinded officials. There power and authority is limited to their regions of authority. Which is a long winded way of saying we're it."

"Not quite it," said Jolan Gix. "We have two more advantage: we are used to operating against the odds. Pater seems to have a competent retinue, but they aren't you. And my power and knowledge of the warp." The latter had been gained at terrible risk and cost and augmented Gix's formidable natural talents in this area.

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

"We are nearing the flotilla admiral," the pilot said.

"Thank you," Severa Valin replied. She got up out of her seet and exited towards the troop compartment. The mirror masked faces of a platoon of Naval Security Stormtroopers turned to face her as she entered.

"I have served the Emperor for nearly sixty years," she began. "In all that time I have never been prouder to serve with Inquisitor Gix. He has worked with Imperial Guard, Arbites officers, and a thousand different servants of the Emperor. But when the chips are down, Naval Security has come through. Always. Now he is about to embark on one of the most important missions of the career. His ship has been destroyed and men have sought to take his life. Worlds will live or die based on his success. The question is: can he rely on Naval Security now?"

"YES!" came the shout that reverberated off the walls.

[Typhonis]

Nathan's eyes swept over the text ,reading and learning.Inside he was angry with himself, he had panicked in the situastion,not good. He was supposd to be cool ,calm, collected, but he had made a mistake and it had cost the Imperium a warship.

He replayed what had happened and saw what he had done wrong. Of course the alarms would have changed over the years , nothing here was static. Save for the Ecclisiarchy and Mechanicus..

The doctors exam had been interesting and his cover story had seemed to appease the man. now he was learning about these Tyranids and what had happened since his 'Death' 50 years earlier.

[Pcm979]

Njal looked up from a report he had just been delivered. The Inquisitor would want to hear this. He started to clear his throat-

"Yes, Njal?" Pater asked without turning his head from the holoprojector. Even after decades, that little trick always surprised the Navigator.

"Ah. Sir, we've managed to establish communications with Inquisitor Gix. He's on the vidscreen now."

"Patch him through." Pater said immediately, deactivating the holoprojector and walking over to a conference unit. Gix's face flashed on-screen.

"Jolan." Pater began, then coughed artificially. It would be obvious that he wasn't used to this sort of thing. "I have to apologise for the loss of your ship. It was... A grave blunder and I accept full responsibility." He sighed, again an odd sound coming from his augmetic lungs.

"I know you do not trust me as far as I could throw Ristani." He continued awkwardly. "I am not a fool. So I do not expect you to accept my offer, but... I am willing to replace all your lost equipment."

[Cynical Cat]

"Your offer is accepted Pater. You will forgive me if I do not wish to speak further on this issue: having my home destroyed does not bring out the best in me."

[Pcm979]

Pater nodded. "Your crew is fully accounted for, and we managed to salvage some effects. They were placed in stasis fields immediately, as proof that there was no tampering. I will convey them to you as soon as it is feasable." He paused. "End transmission." He finally snapped to a Servitor, and the image faded.

Njal watched him cautiously. This was the closest Novum had gotten to losing his calm for decades.

"Yes, Njal?" Pater asked coolly. The whole affair was a fiasco.

The Navigator jumped. How did he do that? "Sorry, Sir. We've reestablished Void Shields, Sir." He said dutifully.

"Excellent. Keep me informed." Pater said, and left the room.

[Pcm979]

Byron floated down to Pater. "Analysis?" The half-man asked simply.

The A.I. cocked its floating head to one side. "Gix is a threat." It said simply. Pater waved for it to continue. "To be frank, it's really your fault." The little thing breezed along bluntly. "I mean, there's your little bust-up way back when to get things off on the right foot." Pater grunted, and the A.I. continued hastily: "Yes sir, it's dead and buried for all you care, but most people aren't as straightforward." The A.I. was one of possibly three creatures in existance who could get away with insulting the Inquisitor so openly.

"Anyway. Just recently you make a bad impression with him. Now you blow up his ship." Byron bobbed in a shoulderless approximation of a shrug. "It's no wonder he's looking at you oddly, really." He paused.

"Continue." Pater said impassively.

"Now we've established he's viewing you as a potential enemy, we get to the question of threat levels." Byron went on, settling on to Novum's shoulder as they walked. "In short, if there's one thing Gix is good at, it's bringing down those more powerful than him. He's virtually made a career of starting on the back foot." It paused to give Pater time to translate the colloquialisms. "He's politically savvy, tactically and strategically gifted and surrounded by smart people who'll die for him if push comes to shove." Pater literally hissed, cycling air through his lungs in a rare show of irritation. "His abilities are unknown, but we do know he's been delving into proscribed arts. We should assume he's considerably more powerful since you last saw him."

"Your conclusion?" Pater asked.

"Kill him. Kill him now." Byron stated simply.

Pater shook his head.

"It works, sir." The A.I. pressed.

"No." Pater said firmly.

"Alright. Bug the equipment you give him. Put in overrides."

"No." Pater repeated. "He is behind us technologically, but he would not miss a ploy like that. It would merely make matters worse."

Byron approximated a sigh. "Then you'll have to convince him you're not a threat, and hope for the best." It said disapprovingly.

"If it comes to conflict, can we defeat him?" Pater asked.

"If we plan for it." Byron replied.

"Then plan for it." Pater instructed. "But Gix is still an asset. I will do my best to placate him until then."

"If I could offer some suggestions, Sir." Byron put in smoothly. Pater nodded. "Let us handle the interactions with Gix. I think you can appeal to Ristani more easily. You have a history to build on, and he's also averse to the politics Gix is so suited for."

"I shall take that into account." Pater said. It was simply a matter of reorganising the situation in terms he could understand- Strategy, tactics. Allies and enemies.

War.

[Typhonis]

Hurry up and wait ,hurry up and wait. The more things change the more they stay the same. Nathan sat there, nothing showing his irritation as he waited for Joritu Aeseli to finish her work.

He watched as she went over the results again and then came forward to give her report. "You appear to be in good health, Inquisitor Talstrem, you need to exercise to build your strength up and you also need to rest.I will forward my findings to Inquisitor Novum as soon as is possible. You may leave when you wish."

"Thank you doctor." Nathan said as he put his service acket back on and headed out the door. Things were certain to be interesting here and he would rest as she asked but ....that would have to wait. He had things to learn and train ..no rest for an inquisitor.

He idly wondered how Lena was doing but put the thought from his head.....50 years could have changed her and he had no way of knowing what her feelings for him were. Besides she was a Saint and he was....

Nathan slid out of the lift, after it stoped, and through the crew like a ghost. Passing them by without being observed save for a few servo skulls that merely flew on he did have work to do.

[Cynical Cat]

"Jolan," said Keys, "there is another possibility I wish to bring to your attention."

"That Pater thinks that I may have decided he is the enemy and to move against me now. That he doesn't feel safe despite the fact he is on the bridge of a warship and has companies of Astartes at his dispossal and I have a half dozen people, some of whom are not even fighters."

"He does not know your true strength my lord, but he must suspect you are stronger than he is."

"That a personal confrontation would result in his incineration may play upon his mind, but he isn't alone. How many librarians does he have out there with them? Numbers matter. And he has another inquisitor at his dispossal. Logically, Pater knows that he can win just because of the shear number of bodies at his beck and call. He makes a preemptive move against me and he will face Prius Ristani's troops. Ristani has the numbers to matter. No, Pater may fear my abilities, but he knows he has the numbers. Pater may be overly hasty, but Prius Ristani was born to spring into action. Pater won't move unless he has evidence that I intend to neck him and we won't give him anything that could be mistaken for that. In the end, it is better that Jolan Gix dies here and now if it means that Nathan Talstrem lives and this mission succeeds."

"So he will watch?"

"Pater loves tech, but his brain was still filled with that supersticious technosorcery nonsense. He will know better that to use psychic means of monitoring us. But he may understimate me, or more importantly Gard, and think he can slip something by us."

"In which case?"

"He has an archeotech machine mind with him. However good or bad Pater's grasp of science is, the machine mind's will likely be excellent. We concede mastery in this area to Pater, as we do the numbers. We're just ahh. . . . competitive in this area. We deal with whatever monitoring devices if we find them. Whatever has happened to Pater over the last fifty years it has appeared to have alienated him from humanity. We shouldn't read too much into his mannerisms."

"I see lord. He can't tamper with our gear without us discovering it. What if the machine mind decides letting us live is a bad risk and takes action. It has no soul."

"Which is another reason not to do something precipitious. We don't know if any action is his or that of an overzealous retainer. Or fellow inquisitor."

"What cards do we have to play lord? We have no troops, a small crew, most of our archeotech equipment is destroyed. They are xenos. Tyranids are there area of expertise. We have revivied Nathan. We exacerbate tensions. I can so no reason we should stay after we deal with the eldar."

"One more detail Keys. Nathan and I are both experts in the warp. The chances of them surviving the second part of this mission increase dramatically with us present. Or would you choose to brave the Eye of Terror without my knowledge and power?"

"Lord, going in with you scares the hell out of me. I don't even want to think about going in without you."

[Pcm979]

Pater watched Byron float off. No matter how annoying, the little machine was indispensable.

Besides, he could hardly blame it for being how it was. Its neural net was based on Pater's brain, after all.

He stepped into the communications hub and keyed a button. Shields of every variety sprung into place, protecting anything he said from being intercepted. A tight-beam opened with the massive Apocalypse-class vessel holding behind them.

"Warlord-Inquisitor Paternoster Maximillian Novum." A voice, carefully synthesised and scrambled, floated down to him. "You requested our presence."

"Dispense with the titles, Keats." Pater said, waving his hand. "We are beyond that. Yes, I requested your presence. I was not, however, expecting you to send the Ozymandias. It is the pride of your fleet. Practically irreplacable."

"When you call, Pater, we answer." The voice replied. "Of course, we are expecting you to replace any losses we suffer on this journey. The loss of the Ozymandias would be entirely acceptable, if you were to furnish us with a new one."

Pater allowed himself a smile. "Of course. I had almost forgotten what it was like dealing with you, Keats. It is... Refreshingly straightforward."

"It is entirely our pleasure, Pater."

[Pcm979]

Several hours later, the Inquisitor exited the hub. This was the first time his flotilla had been able to take a breath, and the introductions and briefings took quite some time.

He knew where he had to go next. He knew what he had to do.

That didn't mean he liked it.

In the deepest recesses of his chambers, Pater hung from the ceiling like a cut of meat. His mind wandered free, however; Unfettered by crude matter, it roamed the warp, carried on eddies and streams at the edge of that vast ocean. Any further, and even he would be torn apart by the monsters that lurked in the Empyrean.

He was in a cathedral. It was empty, but he could hear faint chanting. He hadn't heard that hymn since he was a boy, several lifetimes ago.

The pulpit was deserted. He looked around, and caught his reflection in a mirror.

He was whole. Two black eyes stared back at him from an unravaged face. He could hear his own, natural breathing. He touched his face with his right hand, and felt flesh meet flesh.

"It's who you really are, Pater." The voice came from behind. He whirled around. A red-robed figure sat at the pulpit, shuffling a deck of Tarot cards.

"It is merely a mental approximation of my physical form." Pater replied neutrally, dragging a chair to the pulpit and taking a seat.

"It's your mental approximation." The robed figure pointed out, laying the cards face-down. "Some part of you knows the truth."

"Enough." Pater said sharply, his voice echoing through the vaulted chamber. "Tell me what I want to know."

"What you want to know, or what you need to know?" Asked the figure slyly.

"What I need to know." Pater hissed angrily.

"Ah." The figure said softly.

"What?" Pater snapped, then looked down. The table was burning under his tight grasp, molten metal dripping to the floor. He wrenched his hand away, hyperventillating.

"No cybernetic enhancements, no mind segmentation." Whispered the figure. "It's just you. As you truly are."

"ENOUGH!" Pater bellowed, silencing the invisible choir. He clenched his teeth, air hissing through the gaps. His heart rate slowed -Hah! He must remember that this was a dreamscape. His heart was long gone, burned to a crisp decades ago- and he sat back.

"Show me what I need to know." He repeated, calm once more.

"As my Lord commands." The figure said ironically, and flipped the cards over.

The Alien ascendant. The High Septon crossed with the Daemon. The Enginseer- Inverted.

Pater's eyes shot up, burning into the robed figure. "This tells me nothing."

"Oh, indeed." The figure said calmly. "It tells you nothing- Nothing that you want to know, that is. You should have told me that was what you were here for." It began gathering the cards again.

Pater reached over and grabbed it's arm, crushing the bones underneath with amazing ease. "I shall defeat you. Do not mistake that."

The figure looked at him from underneath its impenetrable hood. It seemed almost sad.

"That's your mistake. You don't need to."

Pater woke. He disengaged himself from the equipment and lowered himself to the floor. He paced, still dripping cerebrospinal fluids. He needed to think.

[Cynical Cat]

Severa's escort halted outside the room. The door slid upon and she walked into the confrence room. Lydia eyed her with open suspicion. Jolan's face lit up. "Severa. It's good to see you."

Gard Vikal did good work. There was no sign of the catastrophic injuries that she had suffered. Her short blonde hair was slightly frosted with silver. There was just the hing of lines around her eyes. Her broad shouldered and muscular frame filled out the navy uniform quite nicley.

"Jolan," she said as she embraced him. "It's been too long."

"You didn't have any problems getting away?"

"Extended leave for medical reasons." She smiled. "Funny. I seem to be doing much better now."

"You look good."

"Nice to see you in one piece. I am sorry for your loss. The Eternal Will was a good ship and served your well."

"That she did. Naval Security?"

"Yes. Considering the rate of arrests and "accidents" occuring around you, you need people you can trust."

"Thank you. I don't know what you can do here. Employing an admiral as just another gun seems rather wasteful."

She met his gaze. Both of her eyes were a brilliant blue, vat grown from her own tissues after her terrible maiming. "A fleet is gathering, yes? One with ships from all over the place. The Tyranid hunters Novum was working with, sector ships, Ecclesiarchy ships, Astartes warships, and whatever else. Who will command? The leaders need to be familiar with archeotech performance of more conventional vessels. The admiral and the squadron commanders must be proven winners, to engage the respect of others. Novdalorin may be the commander, but she'll need squadron leaders."

"You."

"Me."l

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

At the edge of the Kar Duniash system, a tear formed in the vacuum of space, a glowing and malevolent red wash behind it, ejecting a form of matter that soon became the same nothing into real-space. A dark shape ploughed through this matter, letting it boil off its surfaces in the materium. It was quite unlike anything else in the Imperium’s arsenal, a sleek vessel a mere two hundred meters long, with an astonishing low reflectivity, that absorbed all emissions but for the particle trails of its engines. In its command and control chamber (the android resolutely refused to call it a bridge, despite Imperial Naval tradition) three iron men sat in bucket seats around a central console.

The first let out a digital data-stream chirp to its gold skinned leader, and marvin re-examined the sensor data. He ‘said’ though in far faster terms than crude human language, “It appears that the Eternal Will has been attacked. Engage mimic engine, bring us into normal shipping lanes.â€Â

[Typhonis]

Nathan walked up to the mat and set his towel down. He started with a few basic exercises, designed to help endurance and strength. He internally winced at how slow he was moving and noted how far he had yet to go to reach his old level of skill.

He hated to think what his melee and gun skills were like.

[Cynical Cat]

Jolan went forth to inquire of the ship's chirurgeon on the status of the eldar prisoner. Severa waited until he left and turned to Lydia. "The next room. We need to talk." She turned and walked through the door. The interrogator strutted after her.

Severa closed the door. "This is very simple. Jolan and I are friends. Very good friends. We used to be lovers but that part of our lives is over. You're strutting around like he should be your man. He isn't. You're the new element to the relationship. You aren't going to be as close as the people he's spilled blood with for fifty years. So get over yourself. Be a good student and learn. Stop acting like the Emperor appointed you his prize student. Act like his strong right hand. The other will come with time."

"Is that all, admiral?" she said coldly.

"It's good advice, from a woman who knows him. You're vulnerability on this is written all over your face if you know how to read it and you're making him vulnerable through you. He deserves better than that. So buck up and tough it out woman. You will probably never do anything as important as this campaign again. Let everything else drop away and do it right."

[Cynical Cat]

Lydia stared out the view port into the blackness of space. "Don't take it too hard kid," said Hethor. She almost jumped.

"I didn't hear you come in," she said as she turned to face him.

"I have a lot of practice bein' quiet," he replied. "I'm not Keys, but I don have fifty years in Imperial service. First the Guard, then Kyra, now Jolan. You're green, you want to show that you've got it. So did he, once upon a time. You've just letting it get in the way of the big picture. Cool your thrusters and keep your eyes on the big picture. You'll turn out fine."

"It seems that today is the day for unsolicited advice," she said coldly.

"Yep," he replied. "Might want to consider takin' it. And don't take it personal. You're tough, you're loyal, you've got brains, and your death on wheels in a fight. You might want to think about why we give a flyin' fuck about what happens to you. Word from the wise."

"And how do you feel-" she stopped. She had said too much.

"Yes," he said mildly. She had seen him use that tone just before he had killed men.

"Never mind," she replied. "It was cruel and better unsaid. All this has put me on edge."

"Me too," said Hethor, "but I'm used to that. Pity. The boss really loved that ship."

"Any word if there is going to be a council?"

"Nope. Last I heard Novum's not leaving his ship, Ristani isn't talking to anyone, and the boss is checking to see if he can brace the eldar. Of course, we're now dependent on these shit for brains who drew down on us for info so I could be wrong."

[Pcm979]

When Pater needed to think, there was one place he went. The Fabricatory was extremely loud, very dark and the definition of hazardous, but he truly felt at peace there. It was written in his very soul; Pater was, in the terms of the Schola Psychiatra, a Wyrd with Machine Empathy. In essence, he instinctively understood and was able to manipulate all forms of technology with the Warp, with no risk of opening himself to the not-so-tender mercies of the creatures that dwelled there. He could feel every rivet, every cog as it moved in its own perfect, predetermined circle, part of something much bigger than it could ever aspire to be. It was perfection, and when he stood and felt it, he could understand what the Mechanicus were striving for.

Besides, they always appreciated his visits. They semi-worshipped him, he was told, as an Avatar of the Machine God; Their version of a Saint. Well, as long as they kept it quiet and it made them listen to him he would tolerate it.

He moved on to check up on how the fabrication of Gix's equipment was coming along.

[Pcm979]

Some time later...

The two Thunderhawks landed in the battleship's main hanger bay with a hiss and whine of servos. Radio traffic indicated that only Inquisitor Gix or a representative would be allowed to take possession of the contents.

[Cynical Cat]

Lydia strode onto the hangar decks with two Naval Security killers following hin her wake. Marine Thunderhawks. Well, it was a good thing the Navy boys were just for show. She began to cross the deck towards the attack ships.

[Pcm979]

One of the Thunderhawk's ramps was open, with two ceremonial Servitors draped in Mechanicus robes and wielding the distinctive gear bladed axes at the foot. As the party approached, they locked their axes and babbled something in a Machine Language. Soon a hunched figure appeared, heavy metallic steps ringing on the ramp's grating. A mechanical tail swished back and forth from within heavy robes, and seven robotic eyes peered up at the Interrogator from within the robe's cowl.

"You are a representative of Lord Gix?" The saurian thing rasped mechanically. With a whir of servos, the optical cluster was pushed forth on a long, extending neck revealing it to be a head, heavy cables running down the 'neck' and a series of mandibles and mechadendrites writhing at where the thing's mouth should be. It examined the Interrogator.

[Cynical Cat]

Lydia's warp spawned tech gifts had long since rendered her blaise when faced by even bizarre displays of technology, but this was different. This was a conscious abandonment of the human form. It was almost heretical. Still, she was Inquisition trained. She supressed her distate. "I am Gix's interrogator. I will take possession of your cargo."

[Pcm979]

The head spun, small sensors extending from the sides and whirring, taking the Interrogator in from every angle, spectrum and waveform. After a moment they retracted.

"Acceptable." The Mechanicus said, head sliding back into the robes with a puff of steam. A snakelike Mechadendrite emerged from the robes, holding a Dataslate. "This is the cargo manifest. You will find everything in order." It rasped.