41K RPG : Into the Eye

[Pcm979]

"Most of my allies and associates are fully extended at the moment; The fleet I am attached to is prosecuting the Tyranids as we speak, the liberated worlds I hold influence over are rebuilding under strict Inquisitorial control, The Emperor's Claws Chapter is entirely devoted to the Pacifica Campaign... I could go on."

Pater was not idly chatting; By identifying his forces and revealing their weakness, he hoped to convince the other Inquisitors of his trust in them.

[Josh]

Prius, of course, took into account that these revelations could easily be cover for deeper designs.

Such was the nature of the work they did.

"I cannot, of course, guarantee anything beyond our attached Deathwatch assets and Stormtroopers. But I am relatively certain that a good many Astartes will answer this call to glory. It is, after all, what they were chosen by the Emperor for."

[The Necrontyr Messenger]

Night began to close on the part of the planet the inquisitors occupied. A thousand times a thousand devotional candles could be seen from any high point, and pilgrims slept in streets of in boarding houses...

[Pcm979]

A quick laser-beamed conversation took place between Pater and Byron, inconspicuously hovering around his head:

It isn't working, Sir.

What?

Even if you tell them the truth, they're going to assume it's a smokescreen for other truths. You need a 'safety net' of half-truths so they'll know the truth is the truth when they get to it. Sir.

The tight-beamed approximation of a sigh. This is why I went into Xenos, Byron.

Yes, sir.

[Cynical Cat]

"Sir, I need to talk to you."

"Of course Lydia," Jolan replied. "Let's go into my room."

The interrogator followed her master into the lavishly appointed guest quarters. "One is not a cardinal of the Ecclesiarchy unless one has the cardinal's prerequisites," Jolan mused. "Ah, more seditious thoughts rumbling through my head. What is it Lydia?"

"There are matters that could cause a rift between the other inquisitors and us."

"Yes there are. I can think of certain truths that could make my colleages very uncomfortable, to say the least. We're not going to raise them. Nor am I going to pry into any of their secrets. It's unlikely that they've committed an unorthodoxies that would bother me, but they don't know that. Neither of them are as mentally flexible as I am, at least they weren't when we last met. The truth is that almost no potential heresy they could commit is worth endangering the success of this mission over. Not that I suspect them of one."

"Put Pater's behavior is clearly questionable."

"I'm a trained observer. There is something wrong with Pater, but he's spent decades trading in his flesh for metal and hunting Tyranids in the dark regions of space. That'll damage most people. I'm concerned that it may damage him in ways that make cooperation with his peers difficult. That it may unnecessarily complicate this mission. Not that he would betray the Emperor or mankind."

"The mission is that big?"

"Lydia, if we succeed we will garner no glory. Few will know about it, but it will be a greater achievement than all of our careers combined. A secret victory, but one that might save the Imperium."

Her eyes were wide with awe. She straightened up and pulled herself to attention. "What do you need of me?"

"Everything you can possibly give. And then more."

[Pcm979]

Pater walked into his quarters quickly, metal arm hitting the floor with a clang almost as soon as the doors had closed. His faceplate followed with a hiss, Pater sighing in relief as the pressures inside and out equalised.

“Deuce.” He said, slumping into a chair.

“Yeah?” The Vindicare leant on his rifle in what would have seemed borderline insubordination to anyone else. But Pater knew it belied his panther-like speed and awareness.

“Take a break. I don’t think there are any daggers pointed at my back tonight.” He said, running his hand through what was left of his hair.

“Thanks.” The Assassin said shortly, then paused. “You should get some rest, too. You look absolutely warped.”

“Politics.” Pater said wearily, waving the man away. “Gyllia, Anghel. Any progress penetrating the bureaucracy?”

“Minimal, Pater.” Gyllia said, her mechadendrites writhing with agitation. “If port security is normally like a brick wall, Ophilia has a Void Shield as backup.”

“Use the Rosette if you have to. Anghel, I need you to send some messages to Njal.” He turned to the rake-thin man and handed him a crystal.

“At once, my Lord.” He bowed.

“Good work, both of you.” Pater said, turning to Lillith.

“You, too. Keep it up.” He said simply. Lillith nodded. They were very much alike, in some ways. The least amount of words for the most amount of action. Or so Pater liked to think.

“Joritu, I don’t suppose the Crèche has arrived?”

“No, my L- P-Pater.” She said, correcting herself at the last moment. “But I still recommend you rest.”

“I am not surprised.” He said wearily. “But for once I agree with you."

[Cynical Cat]

Hethor walked into Jolan's room. Gix was part way through writing a note at the desk. "Boss."

Jolan looked up. "What is it Heth?"

"We're up to something big, right?"

"Yes. We're going to divert a Tyranid Hive Fleet into the Eye of Terror."

The veteran seemed unfazed the revelation. "How?"

"Trail of breadcrumbs. Modified, extra strength Lictor signals."

"Where are we going to be getting these . . . . . Lictors?"

"Our friends in the Ordo Xenos have modified Lictors."

"What are Lictors?"

Jolan looked up. "You don't know?"

Heth shrugged. "They don't give the cruchies the enemy's TOE. They put us in the line of fire and tell us to kill anything that isn't human."

"Good point. They're a Tyranid organism, sometimes called a Vanguard Organism. They're sent ahead and if they land on a tasty world, they send out a signal to the hive fleet. They're fast, sneaky, strong, and utterly deadly. They support the invasion with decapitation strikes and guerrilla warfare once it lands."

"Sounds nasty."

'They are, if the reports are to be believed."

"I was thinking, it would be nice to have the marines on our side for once."

"Yes, it would."

"How about that Tech Captain? He seems on the ball. Smart."

"I'll consider it."

[Josh]

"Prepare my shuttle for return," Prius commanded. "And compile the astropathy contact protocols for every chapter I've worked with since I began my career."

He circled around, his mind processing the data.

"And see what Rhynthis Ven is doing these days."

[Pcm979]

Njal Aapeli, Navigator and Captain of the Inquisitorial star ship Imperious Dominor finished decoding Pater's message.

The Inquisitor's private code had organically developed over the fifty one years he had held that office; It was based on a labrynthine network of personal experiences, fables, long-forgotten cyphers and context-heavy metaphors. When boiled down to its base elements, however, this particular message had a simple, startling request:

Call in all favours.

Njal was stunned. But the Inquisitor's will be done. His Astropath was going to be burnt out by the time they finished.

----------

Pater twitched in his sleep, air hissing from his augmetic lungs. Sometimes, his mind would literally wander, his artificially augmented psychic powers filling with the currents of the Warp like sails with wind, drawing his psyche to strange and terrible places. Only in the Creche could he get a dreamless sleep. But this would have to serve.

Joritu monitored his biochemistry from a series of leads extending from her arm into the base of his skull, diagnostic equipment sending information directly from his mind into hers. It was occasionally too much to bear.

[Cynical Cat]

Hethor walked over to Malkamar's quarters and knocked on the door.

[SirNitram]

Hethor walked over to Malkamar's quarters and knocked on the door.

Once again, the door opened, revealing the unarmoured Astartes, apparently sweating from work on restoring his equipment to operating conditions. "Ah, Hethor." He stated, nodding. "Do come in. What brings you? And has there been any decision on my requisition request?"

Astartes were never very good hosts, but this one was clearly trying, clearing enough equipment to make a path to a chair, should the Inquisitor's helper desire it.

[Cynical Cat]

"Past that along, haven't heard anything back," replied the big veteran. "I'm here on another matter. I can guarrantee you'll get fully kitted out if you sign up. Inquisition work. Anti-Tyranid."

[SirNitram]

"Past that along, haven't heard anything back," replied the big veteran. "I'm here on another matter. I can guarrantee you'll get fully kitted out if you sign up. Inquisition work. Anti-Tyranid."

"Tyranids." Malkamar considered, thinking for a moment. "Haven't encountered many of them. Always considered that something of a blessing. Still, the Emperor brought me here to you lot, so I think he would want me to sign on."

He tilted his head. "Let's hear some more about the bug-hunt."

[Cynical Cat]

"We're goin' to sucker them into the Eye of Terror," Hethor replied. "Kill two birds with one stone. Still interested?"

[SirNitram]

"We're goin' to sucker them into the Eye of Terror," Hethor replied. "Kill two birds with one stone. Still interested?"

There was a pause from the Marine, who slowly turned and stared at Hethor. "Excuse me. Are we actually discussing this? Are we actually discussing attempting to lure a Tyranid Hive Fleet into the Eye Of Terror, a process which, I'm sure, will require us to venture into the Eye of Terror, and because I know both my luck and the fact that we aren't trying to sodomize the Imperium, will not allow us to use the Cadian Gateway, the only safe passage in and out of that living Hell?"

"Emperor protect me." He sighed, shaking his head. "But I'm no man of honour if I retreat like a coward upon hearing that I must venture to the enemy's doorstep." A soft grunt. "If this doesn't redeem me, well, I won't be alive enough to worry about it."

[Cynical Cat]

"Yes, that's about it," said Hethor. "We'll also be hauling a fuck load of rapin' 'Nids to act as bread crumbs. Lictors. Inquisitor Gix is just down the hall, if you want to drop inl."

[SirNitram]

"Yes, that's about it," said Hethor. "We'll also be hauling a fuck load of rapin' 'Nids to act as bread crumbs. Lictors. Inquisitor Gix is just down the hall, if you want to drop inl."

"Never seen a Lictor. I've a nagging feeling, however, it's something big, mean, and able to kill me." Malkamar shrugged. "Sure. Let's go visit the Inquisitor and see what I can do for him." The Techmarine replied, setting aside his tools and starting out and down the hall.

[Cynical Cat]

Hethor lead Malkamar down the corridor to the suites reserved for Jolan Gix and his entourage. The door slid open, revealing a sitting room. A tall, light skinned woman with short black hair was sitting with her feet on a table. She was wearing form fitting black. A large handgun was strapped to her thigh.

Opposite of her was a dark skinned man with a cluster of mechadendrites for hair. He wore simple robes and was sipping amasec. "Ahh, you must be Tech-Captain Malkamar. Hello."

"He needs to speak with the boss," Hethor replied.

The tall woman stood up. "I'll get him."

"Thanks Lyd," Hethor drawled. She left the room. Half a minute latter she entered with another man in tow. He was plainly dressed in a light white robe and reasonably good looking. About average height, he had light brown skin and black hair. A faint scar was visible on his cheek, if one's vision was good enough.

"Tech-Captain Malkamar. I am pleased to meet you." He stepped forward and extended his hand. "I am Inquisitor Jolan Gix."

[SirNitram]

"A pleasure, Inquisitor. Hethor has been enlightening me as to a plan involving impossible odds, two of the most dangerous foes the Imperium has, and a sucide mission to deal them both a nasty blow." The Techmarine snapped off a salute. "So I'm here to ask when we start, and what you need."

[Cynical Cat]

Jolan smiled. "Excellent. We are in the process of gathering the forces necessary to suceed at our little escapade. While we have access to a large body of fighting men and a considerable amount of high technology, as of yet we do not have the assistance of the Adeptus Astartes. Your aid is deeply appreciated."

[SirNitram]

There was a sudden look of curiousity, intrigue, and what can only be defined as a kind of hunger. "...Define 'high technology', lord Inquisitor, if you could." Malkamar tilted his head. "My Chapter prides itself on having maintained their material and fabricators excellently, but I have a nagging suspicion, if you're really going to do this, you might have aces."

"Nonetheless. I don't know how much pull I can exercise on my Chapter, but I can definately secure us men and equipment. I will, however, need details so I know what to attempt to gain."

[Pcm979]

Quick chatter between the Saint's air control and the Inquisitorial Thunderhawk directed the craft to a landing pad just outside the Saint's complex. Heat-resistant gravel popped and cooled as the hatch swung open. Five gigantic, black-armoured figures filed out, weapons tilted slightly towards the ground as a slight concession that they weren't in actively hostile territory. After a moment, the lead figure straightened and removed his helmet with a hiss-snap. He breathed in the air and sighed.

"I approve." Drusus Severus, Deathwatch of the Ultramarines chapter, rumbled deeply. "The air itself smells Sanctified. This place is Holy."

[Cynical Cat]

Gix smiled like a wolf. "Recovered archeotech, tech-captain. Longer ranged melta guns, higher powered las weapons, the construction of Apocalypse class battleships, improved augment technology, and a host of other benefits. We've been distributing it cautiously, to avoid . . . difficulties with the Adeptus Mechanicus although some of the more liberal tech priests are our allies."

[Pcm979]

A buzzing filled Joritu's head, snapping her awake. She pushed herself up from the bed, where she had inadvertantly passed out during one of Pater's worse visions. The buzzing resolved into a short range Vox signal.

"Yes?" She said, snapping to attention as best she could.

"Captain Severus decided to take a little shore-leave, it seems." Byron muttered into her ear. "He brought the Creche and other goodies. It seems the port authorities decided that an angry Astartes works perfectly well as a substitute for paperwork." He concluded amusedly.

"His Lordship will be pleased to hear that." She replied, retracting the diagnostic leads from Pater's skull.

"He can be pleased?" Inquired the little A.I. dryly, and cut the connection.

[SirNitram]

"Hrm... Depending on the timetable, I would much appreciate a look at the augmetic and lasweapon schematics. It strikes me as very useful technology, if the underlying principles can be gleaned." Malkamar stroked his chin. "You are very convincing, Inquisitor, on giving me a reason to get in contact with my brothers, despite my exile status."

A small smirk. "Though I'm quite sure 'Liberal techpriest' is a contradiction in terms. But any movement which gets them off their feet is something I'll aid above and beyond this suicide mission. They got me exiled for some.. unliscensed field repairs, I intend to repay the injury if the Emperor allows it. And 'lo, he leads me to you."