41K RPG : Into the Eye

[Pcm979]

When Cantor arrived at the Inquisitor's Thunderhawk, the packing was well underway. A small crowd of the seemingly-ubiquitous black-clad figures were loading the equipment back onto the ship under Gyllia's careful tutelage. Novum stood to one side, arms crossed. The decades had taught him to delegate.

[Josh]

"Very well. I shall meet you at the landing strip in ten minutes, then."

He spoke aloud to Neriss. "Direct further responses to Brother Sergeant Larkar. I will be attending a meeting with Inquisitor Gix."

[Cynical Cat]

Gix stood alone to the side of the landing pad, the wind whipping the edge of his robes. A calculated risk, but it a necessary one.

[Josh]

Prius strode through the wind, unbothered by such trifles as the forces of nature. He approached and nodded his head respectfully. "Jolan."

[Cynical Cat]

Jolan smiled. "Prius. I'm glad you came. Are you ready?"

Prius nodded. Jolan reached out and took his hand. He touched a button on instrument. Space twisted and they were surrounded in a cocoon of flowing colours. And then it was gone, replaced by an armoured chamber. Blast doors slid open.

"Follow me," Jolan said. He lead his fellow inquisitor into the depths of the Enternal Will, into corridor barren of human activity. Auspexes and automated gun turrets tracked them and two massive warrior-servitors guarded an armoured door. The half-meter thick slabs of admantium slid open as Jolan approached. He lead Prius into the inner chamber.

Complex life support equipment monitored and sustained a body floating in a green glowing vat. A human male, in perfect health. A body that Prius Ristani knew.

"Thorian doctrines have been an interest since Nathan's death. Here is where it has taken me."

[Josh]

"Nathan," the word came out unbidden, almost reverentially. The face was forever burned into his mind, the sense of loss surging in him. His augmetic hand reached out, pressing against the side of the vat.

In the corner of his eye, a red light flashed. He triggered the mental interlock, resetting the sequence on his internal self-destruct for another random interval.

While he hadn't expected treachery, if such occurred, any in the vicinity would come to regret it very shortly.

[Cynical Cat]

"Gard Vikal was able to get the genetic material to clone his body from Adraxus. Through Domina I have been able to briefly contact his soul. And from my knowledge in combating the workings of chaos, I have learned how a warp soul may be inserted into flesh. I am close."

[Josh]

His eyes swiveled toward Gix, the augmetic pupil eye irising down to focus on him. "That is a most dangerous path to walk," he said softly.

[Cynical Cat]

"Yes," said Jolan. "It is. I have spent enough time in the Ordo Hereticus to learn that just about everything can corrupt. One must always be on your guard. I have a theory why Nathan's soul can only make brief contact. It is caught in a long lasting warpstorm, such as the Eye of Terror."

[Josh]

"So there is a strong likelihood that even if his soul could be recovered, it would be tainted by the infernal powers?"

It was a ghastly thing to say, given his simple assumption that Nathan had gone on to sit at the Emperor's side after his demise, but ruthless pragmatism commanded that the point be made.

[Cynical Cat]

"No. There is a remote possibility that his soul has been corrupted by infernal powers, but that isn't my concern. There is a possiblity that it is traped in the Eye. If it is, Domina's connection with him will be stronger. If I don't survive, someone else must bring Nathan across."

[Josh]

The lure. It was a concept well-familiar to those in the Ordos. Oft-times it began with the noblest of intentions, but it was the path of damnation. He turned to face Gix as the self-destruct light flashed in the corner of his vision once more. After a microsecond's hesitation, he reset the count again.

"A charge you are giving to me?" he asked.

[Cynical Cat]

"My studies indicate that Nathan may be almost immune to chaotic corruption. He was given his rosette by the Emperor himself. And he was our comrade who gave his life so that we might triumph over a daemon. And he favored you." Jolan stopped for a moment. "You are an inquisitor. You will do what you percieve to be the best for the Imperium. I believe that restoring Nathan may greatly aid the Imperium. You will make the best decision you can under the circumstances."

[Josh]

There was almost nothing in Prius Ristani's life where he could be pressed on a matter of sentiment.

Almost.

He crossed his arms, looking at Gix. "I will require the documentation and research."

[Cynical Cat]

Gix picked up a crystal and handed it to him. "This should contain everything. The security system has been set to allow you entry."

[Josh]

He took the crystal in one hand, extending his forearm. A compartment flipped open, into which he deposited it, then closed again. He could access it directly, but he would not do so without running it through a sanitary cogitator first.

His eyes skated back to the vat. "Fifty years," he finally said. "If what you say is true... the Emperor's favor is strong with us, that he would give us a Nathan Talstrem once more."

[Cynical Cat]

"For twenty years I have recieved snipets of communication from him. When they targeted me for corruption, he warned me. Through Domina. I have been pursuing this course since then. Nathan didn't die on Cyrus Gamma. His flesh couldn't handle the power he was channelling, but his warp soul remained intact. With Domina, I had a link. A day dream, an idyl speculation, became possible."

[Pcm979]

Ronathal's men were in the process of moving Cantor's things, and for the moment she was without direction. The task was quick, as she hadn't packed much in her thinking the voyage would be brief.

The gaggle of figures seemed to be aware of her new rank, as they wove around her as she made her way to Novum's side. Or perhaps they could just tell by her posture that she was one who commanded it.

The Inquisitor studied her as she approached. She felt an outsider at the moment, that was for certain. She was. But if they were to work together, that situation could not continue.

"Interrogator." He greeted her with a nod. "I understand you encountered Battle-Brother Siades."

"Indeed, sir," she said, "he was the one who informed me that we were to depart."

"He is a proud man, from a proud Chapter." Pater noted. "He does not take well to orders from an unknown quantity." He turned more fully towards the girl, wind ruffling his hair.

"Your collar." He said abruptly.

"It was not an order, sir," she said, her posture showing submission. "I merely thought that you had sent him to inform me and that a reply was expected. I will alert him to my miscalculation with a full apology."

It was not a position that Cantor would normally take, but she was an expert at containing both her opinions and emotions.

As he mentioned the collar, her eyes rose to his, the visor paling in order for her to examine his face for traces of intent.

"Yes, sir?" she asked.

"Your casefile states it was installed as a safety precaution against your... Episodes." He stated, his intention opaque behind his glowing blue eyes.

So he'd gone over the files already. She was glad; it would probably prevent a lot of friction.

"Indeed," she said, not embellishing as she wasn't sure if it would be her place to do so.

In fact, the short burst of white noise at the end of Ronathal's message had been the files, heavily encrypted; The augmetic components of Pater's brain had decoded and digested the information hours ago.

"The collar was always intended as a temporary measure, until you were capable of controlling your outbursts. You are now an Interrogator, whether you feel you are sufficiently prepared or not. With that position comes increased responsibility and expectations, along with increased freedom. You no longer require the collar."

He extended his hand. "Remove it."

She was more torn in that moment than she'd ever been. But her hands flew to her neck immediately, for even a moment's hesitation would be a sign of weakness. And whether they were present now or not, she hadn't looked, she had seen the two other Inquisitors upon the bay as well.

Her eyes met his in a moment of almost-defiance, but her hands pulled her hair back and she turned away from him, revealing the lock.

"As you wish," she said. "However, I don't know the code. I'm assuming it was encrypted into te data from Lord Ronathal."

He reached out his organic hand and pressed a fingertip to the lock; After a short buzz, it clicked open. He drew the heavy collar from around her neck. No one paid them any attention; The other Inquisitors were long gone, and the black-clad figures were scurrying around the Thunderhawk, preparing it for takeoff.

She was stiff the whole time, her spine almost painfully rigid. The skin beneath where the collar had rested was pale, with faint blue and purple bruises along where the clasp had been.

"Thank you," she said absently, wondering how long it had been.

"Have Joritu inspect that." He said as the takeoff klaxon sounded, a high, shrill peal. The Thunderhawk's engines spluttered to life.

"Come." he said, walking towards it at his usual brisk pace. "A new beginning awaits."

[Josh]

He mulled that over. There were many possible dangers and self-delusions that could lie in such notions, many trickeries of the Archenemy that could seep into a man's mind through such hopes.

And on a more personal level, why had Nathan contacted Gix and not him? He had been the Inquisitor's acolyte, had received his first badge of Inquisitorial authority from Nathan. They had fought at each other's side against members of the accursed Black Legion, as well as the xenos...

His eyebrow shot up.

"The Eldar," he said, glancing at the body in the tank.

[Cynical Cat]

"I don't know," Jolan replied. "It could be, of course. We just don't have enough information. Too many possibilities. All I can say is that twenty years ago the PsyKing's master decided to break me so I could be corrupted and Domina began recieving visions and saying my name."

[Josh]

"They obsessed with him enough to send warriors into the fires of Cyrus Gamma to attempt his assassination," he said. "But yes, inadequate information. Describe these visions, if you please."

[Cynical Cat]

"Darkness. A soft white light. A strong voice, as if from a great distance. My name and my image, in the first one. The PsyKing, the Gamesman, and the Prince of Ruin in another. Me, my face marked with the symbols of the ruinous powers, kneeling before the Gamesman to initiated as an acolyte. Me, fighting in a dark chamber, surrounded by fire, fighting the horde of mutants while the Gamesman looked on and laughed. A barren world. A dead city. You in another."

[Josh]

He nodded, recording and filing this away in his secure data center. Were his body to be destroyed, this particular conversation would survive in a ceramite-encased data crystal in his torso. He overrode the self-destruct once more.

[Cynical Cat]

"Do you have any other questions regarding my Puritan extremism?" Jolan asked.

[Josh]

Odd statement. "I always saw you as more likely an Amalathian," he said in what could have almost been construed as a joke. If he ever joked.