LibriumArcana.Games

"Convery our respects and our desire for a private meeting to Inquisitor Varian. Remind him that there are certain. . . .sensitive matters to discuss," instructed Gix.

"As you command, Inquisitor," responded Prius Ristani. Jolan cut the line and turned to look at the Pater.

"Well, he'll be on his way."

Pater nodded and headed over to a mahogeny drinks cabinet. Pater's ship was provided all the luxuries on could wish for and made Jolan faintly homesick. It was also packed with all the advanced tech tools that Pater could get his hands on. In retrospect, Jolan could understand why Vonrilyental had decided to include Pater and his master in his conspiracy. Now they had to hope he had also made a good call with respect to Varian.

Prius Ristani had started out two months before as something that in most regards resembled human, though those who'd made his acquaintance would perhaps argue the point.

A simple commissar fresh from the Schola, he'd been assigned to the 173rd Borean Rifles Regiment, a trouble unit that had been earmarked for sacrificial duty against the wretched greenskins.

Then suddenly the Borean Rifles had been reassigned to duty on Adraxis Prime, by personal order of Inquisitor Lord Vonyirental.

Two monts before, he had been a human in flesh.

Now, he was a walking augmetic horror. Combat with traitors of the accursed Black Legion had cost him three limbs, and he'd simply had the other removed after the battle for Cyrus Gamma. The flesh leg had been slowing him down in his service to the God-Emperor of Mankind.

What remaining flesh he had was burned, scarred, and mutilated beyond recognition by his recent ordeals, but that alone did not begin to speak to the changes that had been wrought upon the young commissar. He had learned in the Battle of Hive Primus on Adraxis that he had the psyk upon him- moreover, a powerful touch of it. He was a mutant, a witch, one of the very accursed warp-touched that he had been trained to watch for among the ranks of the men he oversaw.

He had been thrust into the company of His Most Holy Inquisition, and among their number a most sacred relic of times before, Nathan Talstrem, the man who had lived when the Emperor walked among men. Who had seen His holy visage.

Nathan had died in battle on Cyrus Gamma, despite his best efforts. He had rallied the Guard to allow the Inquisitors to battle the daemon prince, in what he was told had been a heroic stand.

He couldn't remember a thing of it. His memories ended shortly after the start of the battle with the forces of Tendao the Usurper, when in excess of a hundred thousand heretics had been hurled at his beleaugered garrison force. After that, a nightmare of blood, pain, darkness, and death had descended, a red vision of a day that no one could accurately reconstruct.

He'd awoken in the medbay, being tended to. It was there that they told him Nathan had died. And there, he had sacrificed another bit of flesh. Because their work was far from done, and Prius Ristani would die before he would fail in his duty.

He made his way down the hall, pace slightly uneven as he continued to accustom himself to the new limb, and paused before the door to Varian's chamber.

He had carefully steeled his thoughts, so they would not betray what might be necessary. Because if Gix and Novum decided thus, Inquisitor Varian would die this day, and quite likely he would be the weapon of execution.

"Come in Commisar." came the words from a small vox near the door.

* * *

Varian sat in a dark leather chair to the right of the door, a heavy wooden desk before him. The sword he carried displayed on a stand before him; bright lights behind him. It was a tiny measure, but most Inquisitors indugled in such.

He looked up from the pict slate, only the augmatic harness protruding from the sleeves of his robes betraying the extent of injuries he still suffered, and fixed his eyes on the young officer.

"You wish to speek with me about something?"

Prius formally snapped to attention. This was a matter of the utmost gravity, which he knew well even if Jolan and Pater had not impressed it so upon him.

"Inquisitor Varian, Inquisitors Gix and Novum request your presence for a private conference."

"Very well, Commisar. I will see them, just a minute."

He left the commisar standing at attention as he closed out the slate and locked them in a drawer of the desk. From the same draw he withdrew a plasma pistol he had appropriated, holstering it he stood. He looked at the sword for a second, then motioned for the commisar to go.

"Lead on."

His expression betrayed nothing as he pivoted precisely and marched for the door. Only as he stepped outside did he relax his gait. Somewhere in his association with the inquisitors, he had picked up a certain amount of... discretion.

Varian follwed Prius, not looking forward to the meeting. He had a pretty good idea what it was about and why they wanted to see him. The Men of Iron, the archeotech, and who knows what else.

"Are we almost there? This damn patch job they've done isn't the most comfortable."

"After the meeting, I could visit the medicae staff and inspire upon them the need for their best service when dealing with Inquisitors, if you wish," Prius replied. Mentally, he was already planning the encounter. He should only have to kill one to impress the others to improve their performance, and word should ripple through the ranks of the chirgueons, hospitalers and medicae. Perhaps it would be best to kill two, though, just to show that this wasn't a token warning. One chirurgeon, to be certain, because they had the annoying tendency to believe their skills made them somehow inviolate. And perhaps an attendant medicae, simply to drive home the point.

He stopped in front of the meeting room the other inquisitors had selected, and pressed the vox. "Inquisitor Varian has arrived."

"No need." Varian said quickly.

He had a pretty good idea how Prius Ristani motivated. And he didn't think it would do any good when it came to medical matters.

The door slid open, revealling the lavishly decorated room. Pater nodded to Varian from the the drinks case. He was picking up a crystal decanter as Varian walked in.

Gix was reclining on a chair. He wore the informal dress of a high caste Adraxian. Glossy boots of real leather, black slacks, and a tunic of deep red Circasia neospider silk. A replacement for his shredded stormcoat, complete with woven armour, lay over the back of the couch.

"Inquisitor Varian, thank you for coming. There are things we need to discuss regarding our endevour, details that it would be in the best interest of the Imperium to remain secret even from our brother inquisitors."

Prius moved to the side and folded his arms, listening. This was on Jolan and Pater to explain. He remembered the conference with Lord Vonyirental, and his own mixed reactions to the news. First, horror at the... was it blasphemy? Horror, all the same. Soulless machines were the fear of mankind, who had nearly destroyed the human race in the murky days before the Emperor.

But then, there was the potential. To rekindle the fires and passions of the Great Crusade, to drive the darkness back once more, to seize the mantle of the vision of the God-Emperor that humankind would reign supreme and uncontested within the galaxy.

It was a powerful vision, and one that he believed the Emperor supported them in bringing about.

"Lord Vonrilyental selected us for a reason. We were young, relatively unconnect to any faction," which was wrong in the case of Gix, "and inclined to be receptive to an Inquisition controlled technological program. A program that dealt with the handling of an archaeotech cache of tremendous value."

"You mean the Men of Iron." Varian frowned, it hadn't been a question. "I assume from your little speech that you have some plans for these... things. And further more that you require my assistance."

"Not quite. The Men of Iron are the stewards of the archaeotech. Archaeotech capable of building Emperor class battleships and Dark Age era biomech enhancements and weapons. Archaeotech that can build more archaeotech. And that the Adeptus Mechanicus would put in a shrine and encase in glass and pray over instead of employing to defend the Imperium and destroy its enemies. As a servant of the God-Emperor of Mankind and a guardian of humanity's future, can you allow that to pass?"

Varian sat silent, considering. His hands were fold in front of, his chin resting on them as he gazed at nothing in particular.

"I no more wish to see the technology sequestered in some cogboy temple than I wish to see these abominations. Surely you have not forgotten the prohibition of machines in the likeness of men?"

"No, which is where we come to a problem. The technology is in the hands of the Men of Iron, who claim to be bound to serve humanity. But we cannot trust them, even if they did serve mankind during the Dark Age of Technology. We cannot let others within the Imperium know, because then the archaeotech would end up in the hands of the Mechanicus. So we must appear to work with these Men of Iron, who claim to desire to spread the occult art of science and return it to humanity."

He had given a great deal of thought to the conundrum of the Men of Iron. One had defeated him handily in the first battle at Adraxis, though that was before he had discovered his... abilities... and before his enhancements.

Nevertheless, he was still uncertain as to his ability to defeat one in single combat. He'd faced Traitor Marines that moved slower than those abominations.

"I certainly see the dilemna. The question is, of course, how one proceeds from there. They offer power and damnation in equal measure. I take it you mean to accept their offer?"

"We can't trust them and yet what they hold may save the Imperium. Nor can we risk it becoming a prize between the various inquisitional factions or spark a civil war with the Adeptus Mechanicus. We need a specific type of inquisitor for this job, which is why Lord Vonrilyental selected all of us. We need to exploit the opportunity, monitor the Men of Iron, and keep the Mechanicus in the dark. But even more importantly, we need another pair of eyes to examine the situation."

"If you're attemtping to recruit me, just say it plain."

"We're attempting to recruit you." Pater said.

"And just what is it you wish of me, should I join your conspiracy."

"Your mind. Spreading technoscience throughout the Imperium and monitoring the Men of Iron requires more than just two inquisitors. We need your assistance in every concievable way, starting with an analysis of our plans for any flaws you might spot."

"Very well. But if I feel this crosses the line at any point, I will do my duty. Understood?"

"Of course. That's one of the reasons we need you. Additional perspective so that we don't cross the line in the first place. We are conspiring to preserve the Imperium, not bring it down."