Introduction
It is the 41st millennium. For more than a hundred centuries the Emperor has sat immobile on the Golden Throne of Earth. He is the master of mankind by the will of the gods, and master of a million worlds by the might of his inexhaustible armies. He is a rotting carcass writhing invisibly with power from the Dark Age of Technology. He is the Carrion Lord of the Imperium for whom a thousand souls are sacrificed every day, so that he may never truly die.
Yet even in this deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest among His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so mucch has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark far future there is only war. There is no peace among the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
The Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition, more commonly known as the Inquisition, are a powerful organisation and secret police of the Imperium responsible for guarding the souls of humanity. The purpose of the Inquisition is to identify and destroy the myriad of potential threats to the Imperium and humanity. The organisation's members are agents known as Inquisitors.
The actual founding of the Inquisition is shrouded in mystery and there are at least two different stories surrounding its formation.
The first is that in the twilight hours prior to His internment within the Golden Throne, while Terra lay besieged by the traitor forces of Warmaster Horus, the Emperor of Mankind commanded Malcador the Sigillite to seek out "men of character, skill, and determination" to be tested and trained so that an elite group of investigators might be tasked to discover the alien, mutant, and heretic. Immediately prior to his assault on Horus's battlebarge, Malcador presents twelve individuals to the Emperor, eight Astartes and four humans who he has gathered in response to the Emperor's commands. The Astartes are described as having cast aside their allegiance to their Primarch and Legion who sided with Horus; Malcador goes on to say that they are blessed with paranormal skills which are most apt in combating the horrors that have recently emerged from the warp9. Although the identities of the twelve presented to the Emperor are never revealed, it is known that among those individuals recruited by Malcador were Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard, Captain Iacton Qruze of the Luna Wolves, and Sister of Silence Amendera Kendel.
The second story is that immediately after the Emperor was interred in his Golden Throne, four trusted servants of the Emperor gathered in secret to discuss what was to happen next. Their opinions were divided; two believed the Emperor could be returned to life, the other two believed it folly to interfere with the events that had unfolded. The two resurrectionists, known as Promeus and Moriana, left Terra to begin their quest to bring the Emperor back to life. The two that remained acted quickly to establish themselves with the Senatorum Imperialis and created an organisation to combat the efforts of Promeus and Moriana; and it was from this seed, the Inquisition was formed.
It is not known whether these two stories are simply a case of conflicting background, or whether both stories contain some element of truth. It is said that when the Senatorum Imperialis was convened on the first anniversary of the Emperor's Ascension, a grim-faced man joined the council and identified himself as a representative of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition. The fact that they called themselves "Orders" plural could be taken to suggest that the early Inquisition was an amalgamation of several organisations.
Within the modern Inquisition of M41 there are three Ordos Majoris; Xenos, Malleus, and Hereticus, and an unknown number of Ordos Minoris. Each branch specialises in the combat and investigation of specific threats to the Imperial domain. While Inquisitors from any Ordo are trained to deal with all potential dangers, it is the role of the Ordos to produce agents who are particularly adept at understanding and destroying specific abominations. Membership of an Ordo is not mandatory, and there are those Inquisitors who prefer not to join one.
Ordo Malleus (The Threat Beyond) - Destroys daemonic threats and investigates the nature of the Daemon. The Ordo came into being immediately after the Horus Heresy, and therefore has been a part of the Inquisition from the beginning.
Ordo Hereticus (The Threat Within) - Investigates and roots out heresy, mutation, and rogue psykers from humanity, and polices the Ecclesiarchy. The Ordo Hereticus was founded following the events of the Age of Apostasy.
Ordo Xenos (The Threat Without) - Investigates and eliminates alien influence and plots against the Imperium. It is not known when the Ordo Xenos was founded, however it is believed to be of a similar age to the Ordo Malleus.
In addition to the three major Ordos, there are an unknown number of Ordos Minoris. To date, only two of the minor Ordos have been explored in detail, however rumours abound of Ordos created to police the workings of the Blackships, the Imperial military and others whose sole task is to purge the ranks of the Inquisition itself.
Ordo Sepulturum - Researches current plagues afflicting the Imperium and determines how best to contain, destroy, and cure them. Created to investigate an increase in outbreaks of the Zombie Plague just before the 13th Black Crusade.
Ordo Sicarius - Founded to police the activities of the Officio Assassinorum following the events of the Wars of Vindication which resulted from the events of Vandire's Reign of Blood.
Ordo Chronos - A ill-fated organization in which all members vanished.
As well as the Ordos, there are many types of Inquisitorial groupings that an Inquisitor may belong to, however as with the Ordos, membership of these is not mandatory.
Conclaves - Inquisitorial Conclaves can take two forms. The first is a gatherings called by an Inquisitor (if called by an Inquisitor Lord it is termed a "High Conclave") to discuss a particular subject 6. There are also more permanent regional Conclaves; these are federations of Inquisitors who watch over a particular area of Imperial space. The larger of these regional Conclaves may have resources such as ships, armies, fortresses, and libraries for the use of their members. Not all sectors of Imperial space are covered by a Conclave, and some areas are devoid of a permanent Inquisitorial presence. The head of each regional Conclave is normally an Inquisitor Lord, and is nominally appointed by the High Lords of Terra. There are also Conclaves operating at the Segmentum level, again headed by an Inquisitor Lord.
Cabals - A Cabal is a rare body instituted by a Conclave and dedicated to investigating a particular matter. Generally they gather Inquisitors from varied backgrounds and philosophies to form a specialist task-force. Often, Cabals are despised by many who see them as secret societies within a Conclave.
Cells - Similar to a Cabal, a Cell is an ad-hoc group of Inquisitors who share a common goal. Often they are factional in nature, or are formed to confront a particular problem. The principle difference between Cabals and Cells is that the latter are entirely informal and are transitive in nature. Often one or more of the Inquisitors in the Cell will work overtly through investigation while the rest proceed through infiltration.
As a completely autonomous Imperial organisation beyond the power of the Adeptus Terra, the Inquisition is immensely powerful. As the Inquisition's duties involve the scrutiny and policing of the other organisations of the Imperium, the Inquisition itself is answerable to no higher power except the Emperor. No one, except the Emperor himself, is beyond the scrutiny of the Inquisition. This power is officially known as the Inquisitorial Remit or Inquisitorial Mandate.
With the exception of the Ministorum (which, in any case is still under outside Imperial restrictions), the Inquisition is the only organisation of Imperial government that is completely autonomous. Unlike other Imperial organisations, it is not a branch of the massive Adeptus Terra, but a self-contained organisation answerable only to itself. The Inquisition itself uses compounds scattered throughout the Imperium known as Inquisitorial Fortresses as its bases of operation.
The role of the ordinary Inquisitor is to investigate and deal with all potential threats to mankind and the Imperium. In the eyes of the Inquisition, there are multitudes of such potential threats. The main threat is posed not by invading aliens, but from within, by corruption and disloyalty within the Imperial organisations, as well as by psykers. The other threat posed from within is that of mutation, the constant corruption of the human gene-pool. There are no bounds to the Inquisition's area of responsibility: alien plots, mutation, political corruption, and incompetence all come under their jurisdiction.
If required, Inquisitors may call on the service and/or resources of any Imperial servant or organisation. Not even a High Lord of Terra may refuse the order of an Inquisitor without good reason. This power extends across the Adeptus Astartes and the Adeptus Mechanicus, however learned Inquisitors show discretion and request the assistance of the Space Marines and attempt not to anger the Adepts of Mars.
The role of the Inquisition requires proactivity and efficiency unbound by the dogmatic bureaucracy common to most other Imperial departments. Accordingly, there is little in the way of hierarchy or departmentalisation within the Inquisition. Authority within the Inquisition is governed by two factors - reputation and influence. Seniority is in itself no indicator of authority, however most Inquisitors will take heed of the wisdom an older and more experienced peer.
Because the Inquisition are the watchdogs of the Imperium, answerable only to themselves, given almost absolute power, along with such broad jurisdiction, corruption is an ever present danger. Its integrity is therefore upheld by constant self-policing and scrutiny. In the earliest editions of the background, this was the stated role of the Ordo Malleus, which were the Inquisition's secretive Inner Order.
As per the Inquisitorial Remit, Inquisitors hold the absolute power to judge all who fall beneath their gaze. The Inquisition holds countless paths to death that usually correspond to the level of guilt of the condemned. The horrors of arco-flagellation, Penal Legion conscription, or binding to a Penitent Engine are a small sample of unique forms of penitence and absolution that Inquisitors use on a regular basis.
Inquisitors have the authority to condemn an entire world to Exterminatus if it is deemed to be irredeemably corrupt. Exterminatus, the obliteration of a world, is only resorted to when the level of corruption a world bears is so monumental that it cannot be wiped out by any other means.
Although there is no formal system of ranks or command in the Inquisition, save for the recognition that the Emperor is the highest ranked figure and supreme commander, there are a number of positions that may be held by an Inquisitor. These positions do not bring any more authority (an Inquisitor's authority is already absolute), however the incumbent Inquisitor will have increased influence over his peers by virtue of his office. The powerful Inquisitorial Representative represents the organization on the High Lords of Terra.
Recruitment within the Inquisition is not centralized, and an Inquisitor is free to recruit whoever he so chooses as an acolyte. There are many different names given to acolytes, Interrogator, Explicator, Neophyte, Novitiates, Approbators, etc, but in themselves they carry no authority (only that which they are granted by their Inquisitor). Although some Inquisitors may have their acolytes pass through various "ranks" on their progression to Inquisitor, those ranks are not standardized across the Inquisition. However, within individual conclaves there may be established conventions for temporarily granting the Inquisitional remit to an acolyte within the scope of a particular assignment. Within the Calixis and surrounding sectors such an individual is known as a Legate Investigator. Legates are identified by an icon known as a Sigil of Question which contains features similar to a rosette, and a Carta of Inquiry which describes the scope of their investigation.
For an acolyte to be raised to the rank of Inquisitor, the consent of three Inquisitors or an Inquisitor Lord is required. There have been cases where the situation has called for an acolyte to take on full Inquisitorial responsibilities immediately without the blessing of three Inquisitors or a Lord. For example if their Inquisitor is killed in action, their apprentice may inherit their Inquisitorial Seal and fulfil the role of an Inquisitor subject to repeal by another Inquisitor.
The Inquisition can be broadly divided into two differing schools of thought: Puritanism and Radicalism.
To the conservative Puritans, it is of the utmost importance that Inquisition doctrine be upheld, and are often found persecuting those Inquisitors who are deemed heretical.
The pragmatic Radical Inquisitors follow the Imperial doctrines in spirit, believing that the ends justify the means, and find little value in adhering to convention too closely. They often try to fight fire with fire, using Chaos or alien weaponry, employing Daemonhosts, or committing other acts that would be deemed heretical by their more conservative brethren.
Inquisitors of both sides are found in great number, and while often at odds with each other, are equally interested in the survival of mankind and the defeat of its enemies. Puritans and Radicals are further divided into individual philosophies, leading to further friction.
You stand in an enormous amphitheater big enough to seat thousands, but right now it appears to be holding less than one hundred. A young man stands on the pulpit in the center of the room and begins to speak, "I am Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne, and I am gathering a group of worthy individuals to serve the Emperor in all of His holy light. The Inquisition has gathered the best warriors and most talented technological adepts in all of the Imperium. And they have given me pick of the litter. You might be a Seraph of the Adepta Sororitas. Or a member of the Comissariat, freshly graduated from the Schola Progena. You could simply be a normal citizen, who happens to be a master hacker. Or you could be one of The Emperor's mightiest warriors, the Adeptus Astartes. It makes no matter who you are. What does matter is that you have recieved the distinct honor of being chosen by the Holy Inquisition of the Emperor, and should you be chosen by me you will be taking part in a mission of great importance to the Imperium. I will not lie, as a member of the Ordos you will see things that would no doubt crush the minds of ordinary men and women." He pauses and looks around the room, searching for signs of doubt, "Keep in mind that you are not volunteers. Should you be chosen you will have no choice but to accept my decision. Now, proceed through the doors to your left and you will be proccessed."
As the fresh-faced Inquisitor atop the pedastal ends his speech you stand, along with the hundred or so other men and women, and begin shuffling towards the doors that he indicated. They open to an enormous passageway that narrows the further you walk, funneling the mass of bodies into a series of tunnels and passageways, culminating in an ornate corridor, covered in art declaring the Emperor's might. You sit in this ornate lobby for what feels like days, waiting for your chance to stand face to face with the Inquisitor. One of the Inquisitor's attendants steps through the door and calls your name. You step through the door and find yourself in front of the Inquisitor's desk. He motions to the chair in front of you.
"Please, have a seat." Despite his friendly smile, you notice that he is critically eyeing your every movement as you sit in the plush, leather chair. A servo-skull floats over and begins scanning you, recording your body temperature, heartbeat, and so on. He notes your concern, "Oh, don't mind him." He clicks a button on his desk and a cogitator nearby comes to life recording every word said here for posterity. "Just relax, and this should all be over soon, alright? Now, let's see here, who might you be?" He reaches to the stack of folders to his left and pulls out a small unassuming folder.
CANDIDATE RECORD
DATE: 0023045.M42
From the desk of Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne.
Citizen Identification Number: (example: xxxxx-xxx-ABCxxxx)
Name
First: MI: Last:
M: F:
Nicknames/Aliases:
Age:
Birthplace (City):
Birthplace (Planet):
Birthplace (Sector):
Birthplace (Segmentum):
Current Residence (Adress):
Current Residence (City):
Current Residence (Planet):
Current Residence (System):
Current Residence (Sub-Sector):
Current Residence (Sector):
Current Residence (Segmentum):
Blood Type:
Height: (Metric Please)
Weight: (Again, Metric Please)
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Physical Appearance:
Psychological Profile:
Psyker (Check One) Y: N:
If Yes What Category: (Use Imperial Assignment Scale. For an explanation of Assignment Scale See: http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/The_Assignment)
If Yes What Is/Are Their Psychic Abilitie(s):
Family (Alive or Deceased):
Personal Funds/ Monetary Assets:
Current Proffession (If Applicable):
Skills and Apptitudes:
Personal History: (Be short and succinct, and use Imperial Dating System when writing individual events. For explanation of Imperial Dating System See: http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Imperial_Dating_System)
Intelligence Quotient:
Neural Wavelength Frequency:
Spacial Reasoning Score:
Linguistic Apptitude:
Check One (Inquisitorial Use Only):
Located:
Secured:
Deceased:
Disqualified:
Yet even in this deathless state, the Emperor continues his eternal vigilance. Mighty battlefleets cross the daemon-infested miasma of the warp, the only route between distant stars, their way lit by the Astronomican, the psychic manifestation of the Emperor's will. Vast armies give battle in his name on uncounted worlds. Greatest among His soldiers are the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines, bio-engineered super-warriors. Their comrades in arms are legion: the Imperial Guard and countless planetary defense forces, the ever-vigilant Inquisition and the tech-priests of the Adeptus Mechanicus to name only a few. But for all their multitudes, they are barely enough to hold off the ever-present threat from aliens, heretics, mutants - and worse.
To be a man in such times is to be one amongst untold billions. It is to live in the cruellest and most bloody regime imaginable. These are the tales of those times. Forget the power of technology and science, for so mucch has been forgotten, never to be re-learned. Forget the promise of progress and understanding, for in the grim dark far future there is only war. There is no peace among the stars, only an eternity of carnage and slaughter, and the laughter of thirsting gods.
The Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition, more commonly known as the Inquisition, are a powerful organisation and secret police of the Imperium responsible for guarding the souls of humanity. The purpose of the Inquisition is to identify and destroy the myriad of potential threats to the Imperium and humanity. The organisation's members are agents known as Inquisitors.
The actual founding of the Inquisition is shrouded in mystery and there are at least two different stories surrounding its formation.
The first is that in the twilight hours prior to His internment within the Golden Throne, while Terra lay besieged by the traitor forces of Warmaster Horus, the Emperor of Mankind commanded Malcador the Sigillite to seek out "men of character, skill, and determination" to be tested and trained so that an elite group of investigators might be tasked to discover the alien, mutant, and heretic. Immediately prior to his assault on Horus's battlebarge, Malcador presents twelve individuals to the Emperor, eight Astartes and four humans who he has gathered in response to the Emperor's commands. The Astartes are described as having cast aside their allegiance to their Primarch and Legion who sided with Horus; Malcador goes on to say that they are blessed with paranormal skills which are most apt in combating the horrors that have recently emerged from the warp9. Although the identities of the twelve presented to the Emperor are never revealed, it is known that among those individuals recruited by Malcador were Captain Nathaniel Garro of the Death Guard, Captain Iacton Qruze of the Luna Wolves, and Sister of Silence Amendera Kendel.
The second story is that immediately after the Emperor was interred in his Golden Throne, four trusted servants of the Emperor gathered in secret to discuss what was to happen next. Their opinions were divided; two believed the Emperor could be returned to life, the other two believed it folly to interfere with the events that had unfolded. The two resurrectionists, known as Promeus and Moriana, left Terra to begin their quest to bring the Emperor back to life. The two that remained acted quickly to establish themselves with the Senatorum Imperialis and created an organisation to combat the efforts of Promeus and Moriana; and it was from this seed, the Inquisition was formed.
It is not known whether these two stories are simply a case of conflicting background, or whether both stories contain some element of truth. It is said that when the Senatorum Imperialis was convened on the first anniversary of the Emperor's Ascension, a grim-faced man joined the council and identified himself as a representative of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition. The fact that they called themselves "Orders" plural could be taken to suggest that the early Inquisition was an amalgamation of several organisations.
Within the modern Inquisition of M41 there are three Ordos Majoris; Xenos, Malleus, and Hereticus, and an unknown number of Ordos Minoris. Each branch specialises in the combat and investigation of specific threats to the Imperial domain. While Inquisitors from any Ordo are trained to deal with all potential dangers, it is the role of the Ordos to produce agents who are particularly adept at understanding and destroying specific abominations. Membership of an Ordo is not mandatory, and there are those Inquisitors who prefer not to join one.
Ordo Malleus (The Threat Beyond) - Destroys daemonic threats and investigates the nature of the Daemon. The Ordo came into being immediately after the Horus Heresy, and therefore has been a part of the Inquisition from the beginning.
Ordo Hereticus (The Threat Within) - Investigates and roots out heresy, mutation, and rogue psykers from humanity, and polices the Ecclesiarchy. The Ordo Hereticus was founded following the events of the Age of Apostasy.
Ordo Xenos (The Threat Without) - Investigates and eliminates alien influence and plots against the Imperium. It is not known when the Ordo Xenos was founded, however it is believed to be of a similar age to the Ordo Malleus.
In addition to the three major Ordos, there are an unknown number of Ordos Minoris. To date, only two of the minor Ordos have been explored in detail, however rumours abound of Ordos created to police the workings of the Blackships, the Imperial military and others whose sole task is to purge the ranks of the Inquisition itself.
Ordo Sepulturum - Researches current plagues afflicting the Imperium and determines how best to contain, destroy, and cure them. Created to investigate an increase in outbreaks of the Zombie Plague just before the 13th Black Crusade.
Ordo Sicarius - Founded to police the activities of the Officio Assassinorum following the events of the Wars of Vindication which resulted from the events of Vandire's Reign of Blood.
Ordo Chronos - A ill-fated organization in which all members vanished.
As well as the Ordos, there are many types of Inquisitorial groupings that an Inquisitor may belong to, however as with the Ordos, membership of these is not mandatory.
Conclaves - Inquisitorial Conclaves can take two forms. The first is a gatherings called by an Inquisitor (if called by an Inquisitor Lord it is termed a "High Conclave") to discuss a particular subject 6. There are also more permanent regional Conclaves; these are federations of Inquisitors who watch over a particular area of Imperial space. The larger of these regional Conclaves may have resources such as ships, armies, fortresses, and libraries for the use of their members. Not all sectors of Imperial space are covered by a Conclave, and some areas are devoid of a permanent Inquisitorial presence. The head of each regional Conclave is normally an Inquisitor Lord, and is nominally appointed by the High Lords of Terra. There are also Conclaves operating at the Segmentum level, again headed by an Inquisitor Lord.
Cabals - A Cabal is a rare body instituted by a Conclave and dedicated to investigating a particular matter. Generally they gather Inquisitors from varied backgrounds and philosophies to form a specialist task-force. Often, Cabals are despised by many who see them as secret societies within a Conclave.
Cells - Similar to a Cabal, a Cell is an ad-hoc group of Inquisitors who share a common goal. Often they are factional in nature, or are formed to confront a particular problem. The principle difference between Cabals and Cells is that the latter are entirely informal and are transitive in nature. Often one or more of the Inquisitors in the Cell will work overtly through investigation while the rest proceed through infiltration.
As a completely autonomous Imperial organisation beyond the power of the Adeptus Terra, the Inquisition is immensely powerful. As the Inquisition's duties involve the scrutiny and policing of the other organisations of the Imperium, the Inquisition itself is answerable to no higher power except the Emperor. No one, except the Emperor himself, is beyond the scrutiny of the Inquisition. This power is officially known as the Inquisitorial Remit or Inquisitorial Mandate.
With the exception of the Ministorum (which, in any case is still under outside Imperial restrictions), the Inquisition is the only organisation of Imperial government that is completely autonomous. Unlike other Imperial organisations, it is not a branch of the massive Adeptus Terra, but a self-contained organisation answerable only to itself. The Inquisition itself uses compounds scattered throughout the Imperium known as Inquisitorial Fortresses as its bases of operation.
The role of the ordinary Inquisitor is to investigate and deal with all potential threats to mankind and the Imperium. In the eyes of the Inquisition, there are multitudes of such potential threats. The main threat is posed not by invading aliens, but from within, by corruption and disloyalty within the Imperial organisations, as well as by psykers. The other threat posed from within is that of mutation, the constant corruption of the human gene-pool. There are no bounds to the Inquisition's area of responsibility: alien plots, mutation, political corruption, and incompetence all come under their jurisdiction.
If required, Inquisitors may call on the service and/or resources of any Imperial servant or organisation. Not even a High Lord of Terra may refuse the order of an Inquisitor without good reason. This power extends across the Adeptus Astartes and the Adeptus Mechanicus, however learned Inquisitors show discretion and request the assistance of the Space Marines and attempt not to anger the Adepts of Mars.
The role of the Inquisition requires proactivity and efficiency unbound by the dogmatic bureaucracy common to most other Imperial departments. Accordingly, there is little in the way of hierarchy or departmentalisation within the Inquisition. Authority within the Inquisition is governed by two factors - reputation and influence. Seniority is in itself no indicator of authority, however most Inquisitors will take heed of the wisdom an older and more experienced peer.
Because the Inquisition are the watchdogs of the Imperium, answerable only to themselves, given almost absolute power, along with such broad jurisdiction, corruption is an ever present danger. Its integrity is therefore upheld by constant self-policing and scrutiny. In the earliest editions of the background, this was the stated role of the Ordo Malleus, which were the Inquisition's secretive Inner Order.
As per the Inquisitorial Remit, Inquisitors hold the absolute power to judge all who fall beneath their gaze. The Inquisition holds countless paths to death that usually correspond to the level of guilt of the condemned. The horrors of arco-flagellation, Penal Legion conscription, or binding to a Penitent Engine are a small sample of unique forms of penitence and absolution that Inquisitors use on a regular basis.
Inquisitors have the authority to condemn an entire world to Exterminatus if it is deemed to be irredeemably corrupt. Exterminatus, the obliteration of a world, is only resorted to when the level of corruption a world bears is so monumental that it cannot be wiped out by any other means.
Although there is no formal system of ranks or command in the Inquisition, save for the recognition that the Emperor is the highest ranked figure and supreme commander, there are a number of positions that may be held by an Inquisitor. These positions do not bring any more authority (an Inquisitor's authority is already absolute), however the incumbent Inquisitor will have increased influence over his peers by virtue of his office. The powerful Inquisitorial Representative represents the organization on the High Lords of Terra.
Recruitment within the Inquisition is not centralized, and an Inquisitor is free to recruit whoever he so chooses as an acolyte. There are many different names given to acolytes, Interrogator, Explicator, Neophyte, Novitiates, Approbators, etc, but in themselves they carry no authority (only that which they are granted by their Inquisitor). Although some Inquisitors may have their acolytes pass through various "ranks" on their progression to Inquisitor, those ranks are not standardized across the Inquisition. However, within individual conclaves there may be established conventions for temporarily granting the Inquisitional remit to an acolyte within the scope of a particular assignment. Within the Calixis and surrounding sectors such an individual is known as a Legate Investigator. Legates are identified by an icon known as a Sigil of Question which contains features similar to a rosette, and a Carta of Inquiry which describes the scope of their investigation.
For an acolyte to be raised to the rank of Inquisitor, the consent of three Inquisitors or an Inquisitor Lord is required. There have been cases where the situation has called for an acolyte to take on full Inquisitorial responsibilities immediately without the blessing of three Inquisitors or a Lord. For example if their Inquisitor is killed in action, their apprentice may inherit their Inquisitorial Seal and fulfil the role of an Inquisitor subject to repeal by another Inquisitor.
The Inquisition can be broadly divided into two differing schools of thought: Puritanism and Radicalism.
To the conservative Puritans, it is of the utmost importance that Inquisition doctrine be upheld, and are often found persecuting those Inquisitors who are deemed heretical.
The pragmatic Radical Inquisitors follow the Imperial doctrines in spirit, believing that the ends justify the means, and find little value in adhering to convention too closely. They often try to fight fire with fire, using Chaos or alien weaponry, employing Daemonhosts, or committing other acts that would be deemed heretical by their more conservative brethren.
Inquisitors of both sides are found in great number, and while often at odds with each other, are equally interested in the survival of mankind and the defeat of its enemies. Puritans and Radicals are further divided into individual philosophies, leading to further friction.
You stand in an enormous amphitheater big enough to seat thousands, but right now it appears to be holding less than one hundred. A young man stands on the pulpit in the center of the room and begins to speak, "I am Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne, and I am gathering a group of worthy individuals to serve the Emperor in all of His holy light. The Inquisition has gathered the best warriors and most talented technological adepts in all of the Imperium. And they have given me pick of the litter. You might be a Seraph of the Adepta Sororitas. Or a member of the Comissariat, freshly graduated from the Schola Progena. You could simply be a normal citizen, who happens to be a master hacker. Or you could be one of The Emperor's mightiest warriors, the Adeptus Astartes. It makes no matter who you are. What does matter is that you have recieved the distinct honor of being chosen by the Holy Inquisition of the Emperor, and should you be chosen by me you will be taking part in a mission of great importance to the Imperium. I will not lie, as a member of the Ordos you will see things that would no doubt crush the minds of ordinary men and women." He pauses and looks around the room, searching for signs of doubt, "Keep in mind that you are not volunteers. Should you be chosen you will have no choice but to accept my decision. Now, proceed through the doors to your left and you will be proccessed."
As the fresh-faced Inquisitor atop the pedastal ends his speech you stand, along with the hundred or so other men and women, and begin shuffling towards the doors that he indicated. They open to an enormous passageway that narrows the further you walk, funneling the mass of bodies into a series of tunnels and passageways, culminating in an ornate corridor, covered in art declaring the Emperor's might. You sit in this ornate lobby for what feels like days, waiting for your chance to stand face to face with the Inquisitor. One of the Inquisitor's attendants steps through the door and calls your name. You step through the door and find yourself in front of the Inquisitor's desk. He motions to the chair in front of you.
"Please, have a seat." Despite his friendly smile, you notice that he is critically eyeing your every movement as you sit in the plush, leather chair. A servo-skull floats over and begins scanning you, recording your body temperature, heartbeat, and so on. He notes your concern, "Oh, don't mind him." He clicks a button on his desk and a cogitator nearby comes to life recording every word said here for posterity. "Just relax, and this should all be over soon, alright? Now, let's see here, who might you be?" He reaches to the stack of folders to his left and pulls out a small unassuming folder.
CANDIDATE RECORD
DATE: 0023045.M42
From the desk of Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne.
Citizen Identification Number: (example: xxxxx-xxx-ABCxxxx)
Name
First: MI: Last:
M: F:
Nicknames/Aliases:
Age:
Birthplace (City):
Birthplace (Planet):
Birthplace (Sector):
Birthplace (Segmentum):
Current Residence (Adress):
Current Residence (City):
Current Residence (Planet):
Current Residence (System):
Current Residence (Sub-Sector):
Current Residence (Sector):
Current Residence (Segmentum):
Blood Type:
Height: (Metric Please)
Weight: (Again, Metric Please)
Eye Color:
Hair Color:
Physical Appearance:
Psychological Profile:
Psyker (Check One) Y: N:
If Yes What Category: (Use Imperial Assignment Scale. For an explanation of Assignment Scale See: http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/The_Assignment)
If Yes What Is/Are Their Psychic Abilitie(s):
Family (Alive or Deceased):
Personal Funds/ Monetary Assets:
Current Proffession (If Applicable):
Skills and Apptitudes:
Personal History: (Be short and succinct, and use Imperial Dating System when writing individual events. For explanation of Imperial Dating System See: http://wh40k.lexicanum.com/wiki/Imperial_Dating_System)
Intelligence Quotient:
Neural Wavelength Frequency:
Spacial Reasoning Score:
Linguistic Apptitude:
Check One (Inquisitorial Use Only):
Located:
Secured:
Deceased:
Disqualified:
- 73 posts here • Page 1 of 3 • 1, 2, 3
The Story So Far... Write a Post » as written by 6 authors
On a whim, Holt decided to leave the sterile comfort of his cabin to familiarize himself with the Inquisitor's Ship, which was, from the brief look he got of it on the way to his room, unlike anything he'd seen in his life. While Mechanicus ships generally have crews composed mostly of servitors, such ships still require thousands if not tens of thousands of the slave-cyborgs to function, and from what Holt could see, the only servitors on the ship were part of the crews prepping the ship for launch.
When pressed, the various workers could come up for no explanation for why the ship's crew was seemingly absent, and the one presumably permanent crewmember the Tech-Priest could find-a Navigator-claimed that the ship carried out many of it's functions on its own. Recalling the senior Tech-Priests' lessons on the priceless but borderline-heretekal archeotech cogitator systems that could be used to automate many functions aboard a ship that would normally require human laborers or advanced servitors, Holt resolved to inspect the ship's cogitator core for such systems when he got a chance.
When pressed, the various workers could come up for no explanation for why the ship's crew was seemingly absent, and the one presumably permanent crewmember the Tech-Priest could find-a Navigator-claimed that the ship carried out many of it's functions on its own. Recalling the senior Tech-Priests' lessons on the priceless but borderline-heretekal archeotech cogitator systems that could be used to automate many functions aboard a ship that would normally require human laborers or advanced servitors, Holt resolved to inspect the ship's cogitator core for such systems when he got a chance.
Killing time was never a problem for Varn. While he had been on Sheol XVI, when you wouldn't be doing backbreaking labor, you would be staring at your prison cell walls, therefore the prisoners had developed ingenious manners for communication, entertainment and strange ways for falling quickly asleep. Varn, still certain that he was back on the prison planet, began to bang on the pipe lines, using morse codes to see if there were anyone else listening. No answer. Odd. Normally there's hundreds of conversations going on, he thought as he banged out the code again. Still no answer.
He then turned to the hidden stash of books and started to skim through the chapters, quickly reminding himself of his former education and speciality. Time quickly started to fade away as the pages turned though eventually he looked up and felt panic rise. He had missed the dining bell by fifteen minutes!
Quickly hiding his books he dashed out of his chamber and ran down the hallway and stopped. This isn't Sheol, he thought as he looked around in bewilderment. This isn't Sheol? he thought as he looked around at the steel walls. Then it occurred to him, I'm with the Inquisitor. It's another dream, he thought as he started to walk through the halls, looking every now and then down the other desserted hallway. There really weren't many other workers on the ship.
"Oi! Mate!" he then called out as he saw someone at the end of the hallway. For all he knew it could be a servitor, though at the moment, Varn would rather talk with a mindless drone than being by himself in this maze (He had never felt comfortable being alone, especially since he has grown up on a Hive, been on a Penal Planet and in a Penal Legion). "Mate... You got a stick?" Varn called as he got closer, hoping that he had a Lho-stick, however he had no idea that he was approaching a cogboy of the Omnissiah.
He then turned to the hidden stash of books and started to skim through the chapters, quickly reminding himself of his former education and speciality. Time quickly started to fade away as the pages turned though eventually he looked up and felt panic rise. He had missed the dining bell by fifteen minutes!
Quickly hiding his books he dashed out of his chamber and ran down the hallway and stopped. This isn't Sheol, he thought as he looked around in bewilderment. This isn't Sheol? he thought as he looked around at the steel walls. Then it occurred to him, I'm with the Inquisitor. It's another dream, he thought as he started to walk through the halls, looking every now and then down the other desserted hallway. There really weren't many other workers on the ship.
"Oi! Mate!" he then called out as he saw someone at the end of the hallway. For all he knew it could be a servitor, though at the moment, Varn would rather talk with a mindless drone than being by himself in this maze (He had never felt comfortable being alone, especially since he has grown up on a Hive, been on a Penal Planet and in a Penal Legion). "Mate... You got a stick?" Varn called as he got closer, hoping that he had a Lho-stick, however he had no idea that he was approaching a cogboy of the Omnissiah.
For lack of any more important tasks at hand, and unable to find Osbourne or any other person who could give him directions to the Enginarium was—or better yet give him a map of the ship—Holt had spent the past half hour methodically searching the ship one hallway at a time for the cogitator core. If the rough map of the hallways he'd had his servo-skull transcribe onto a data-slate was accurate, there was only a few places left in the ship that could plausibly be the Enginarium, and at his current pace, it would take less than a quarter hour to get there.
Holt rounded a curve in the hallway, and heard someone shout.
"Oi! Mate!
The tech-priest looked up and saw a tall, unkempt looking man walking towards him.
"Mate...You got a stick?"
Holt rolled his eyes, although the augmentics' uniform glow would make it quite difficult to notice for someone more than a few feet away.
"Stick; shorthand for a Lho-Leaf Tube, a common recreational narcotic, particularly among lower class laborers and soldiers in the Imperial Guard."
The tech-priest shook his head.
"I am not nor have I ever been in possession of one, and considering the damage the smoke and residue from a Lho-Leaf Tube can cause to local air purifiers I wouldn't provide you with one if I did, much less use it myself."
"Not that I could even I wanted to." added Holt, tapping the metallic mask of his respirator unit. Simultaneously, he noticed the man's penal legion brands, the deep imprints in his neck from a collar of some sorts, the numerous signs of healed chemical burns on his arms, and the distinctive odor of industrial chemicals that permeated the air around the man.
Not one of the workers, collar was removed, and workers didn't appear press-ganged...Has worked with chemicals fairly recently, and probably for quite a while before given scarring...facial brands combined collar marks combined with supplementary information naturally indicate penal legion background. thought Holt.
"Hmm...Am I correct in assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Holt rounded a curve in the hallway, and heard someone shout.
"Oi! Mate!
The tech-priest looked up and saw a tall, unkempt looking man walking towards him.
"Mate...You got a stick?"
Holt rolled his eyes, although the augmentics' uniform glow would make it quite difficult to notice for someone more than a few feet away.
"Stick; shorthand for a Lho-Leaf Tube, a common recreational narcotic, particularly among lower class laborers and soldiers in the Imperial Guard."
The tech-priest shook his head.
"I am not nor have I ever been in possession of one, and considering the damage the smoke and residue from a Lho-Leaf Tube can cause to local air purifiers I wouldn't provide you with one if I did, much less use it myself."
"Not that I could even I wanted to." added Holt, tapping the metallic mask of his respirator unit. Simultaneously, he noticed the man's penal legion brands, the deep imprints in his neck from a collar of some sorts, the numerous signs of healed chemical burns on his arms, and the distinctive odor of industrial chemicals that permeated the air around the man.
Not one of the workers, collar was removed, and workers didn't appear press-ganged...Has worked with chemicals fairly recently, and probably for quite a while before given scarring...facial brands combined collar marks combined with supplementary information naturally indicate penal legion background. thought Holt.
"Hmm...Am I correct in assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" asked the Tech-Priest.
The silent noise of writing was all that Arcturas had been listening to for the past half an hour or so. Unlike some people who utilized servitors to write, he did so personally. Currently he was just keeping in the habit of a journal, something he had done as a small hobby for a bit now. He knew full well, even before his current situation, no one would be reading it then, let alone now. He finished the page he was currently writing, and carefully closed the book before hiding it away where he kept what little other personal effects that were deemed necessary enough to be brought on board without him requesting them. Standing, he stretched and straightened out his greatcoat, which concealed both his pistols, and he walked out of the room he was given to reside in between missions. He hadn't much time to familiarize himself with the ship, and he would rather know the way the ship was laid out then assume it matched the usual pattern of a standard Imperial vessel. He kept both hands in his pockets, walking with a relaxed pace. He didn't walk anywhere specific, simply wandered and looked around idly, examining anything that could prove useful in the future, for any reason. He caught a glimpse of one man and a cog head talking, and he left them to it rather than interrupt, instead heading towards where the bridge should be, to confirm its location and continue familiarizing himself with the ship layout.
Oh frak, Varn's lips unconsciously moving to his thoughts. Varn had been on a ship five times in his entire life, and not until now had he ever really talked to an adept of Omnissiah, for he had mainly been in a prison cell and seen them inspect the machines or (when he was on Malice) repair vehicles and fix a commissar's lasgun before he executed another soldier.
Varn noted that the Tech-Priest wore the bright red uniform of their creed, and the servo skull which flew around him managed to distract Varn from the Techn-Priest's answer. Damnable things, Varn would think whenever he started to look at it. Though, perhaps the one thing which really impressed Varn, was the mechadendrite mounted on the Tech-Priest's right side. How he controlled the thing was well beyond Varn's imagination, though it was perhaps only the one thing which kept Varn's prison attitude in check against the reply he was getting.
"... assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" Varn heard and turned his attention back to the Tech-Priest.By now he had realized that he was having another flashback, nothing unusual, though it had always taken him some time to adjust when they happened.
"Hmmm?... Oh, yes. Yes, the Inquisitor recruited me, melord," Varn answered, uncertain how he was to reply back to a Tech-Priest. "Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?" Varn quickly added, ignoring his rumbling stomach that craved for something (anything, really) to eat.
Varn noted that the Tech-Priest wore the bright red uniform of their creed, and the servo skull which flew around him managed to distract Varn from the Techn-Priest's answer. Damnable things, Varn would think whenever he started to look at it. Though, perhaps the one thing which really impressed Varn, was the mechadendrite mounted on the Tech-Priest's right side. How he controlled the thing was well beyond Varn's imagination, though it was perhaps only the one thing which kept Varn's prison attitude in check against the reply he was getting.
"... assuming that you are one of the good Inquisitor Osbourne's other recruits?" Varn heard and turned his attention back to the Tech-Priest.By now he had realized that he was having another flashback, nothing unusual, though it had always taken him some time to adjust when they happened.
"Hmmm?... Oh, yes. Yes, the Inquisitor recruited me, melord," Varn answered, uncertain how he was to reply back to a Tech-Priest. "Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?" Varn quickly added, ignoring his rumbling stomach that craved for something (anything, really) to eat.
"Erh, would you also be one? Or are you in charge of the ship?"
Holt nodded, then shook his head.
"Yes to the former, no to the latter; I was indeed selected by the Inquisitor for this mission, but I am not in charge of the operations of his ship. In fact, I am not quite sure who or—or dare I say what—is in charge of the ship's mechanical operations, though I was just on my way to find out."
The tech-priest withdrew his right mechadendrite tendril from his pocket, and extended the apendage in a gesture of greeting.
"Seeing as we shall be working together in the near future, I suppose it is important that we introduce ourselves to each other. Tristan Holt, Explorator of the holy Omnissiah's Tech-Adepts."
Holt nodded, then shook his head.
"Yes to the former, no to the latter; I was indeed selected by the Inquisitor for this mission, but I am not in charge of the operations of his ship. In fact, I am not quite sure who or—or dare I say what—is in charge of the ship's mechanical operations, though I was just on my way to find out."
The tech-priest withdrew his right mechadendrite tendril from his pocket, and extended the apendage in a gesture of greeting.
"Seeing as we shall be working together in the near future, I suppose it is important that we introduce ourselves to each other. Tristan Holt, Explorator of the holy Omnissiah's Tech-Adepts."
Do they always talk this way? Varn thought as he listened to Tristan. According to Varn there was too much details about, well, everything.
He then gave a salute in return for the Tech-Priest's gesture. "True that," Varn answered. "Well, I suppose you'd prefer my name instead of my Prisoner number. I'm Varn, Varn Gaius. Educa... Well, former Biochemist Expert of Tsade II’s Fertilization company, and in case you haven't noticed I'm currently a Penal Legionnaire," Varn said, adding a thick lair of sarcasm to the last bit.
"Lets just say that I didn't follow protocol and paid for it," Varn admitted, though he made it clear that he didn't wish to push the subject further. "Tell me, how did the Inquisitor track you down? I mean, I knew that the Inquisition was resourceful, but they found me on Malice... In the middle of a warzone," he added with amazement.
He then gave a salute in return for the Tech-Priest's gesture. "True that," Varn answered. "Well, I suppose you'd prefer my name instead of my Prisoner number. I'm Varn, Varn Gaius. Educa... Well, former Biochemist Expert of Tsade II’s Fertilization company, and in case you haven't noticed I'm currently a Penal Legionnaire," Varn said, adding a thick lair of sarcasm to the last bit.
"Lets just say that I didn't follow protocol and paid for it," Varn admitted, though he made it clear that he didn't wish to push the subject further. "Tell me, how did the Inquisitor track you down? I mean, I knew that the Inquisition was resourceful, but they found me on Malice... In the middle of a warzone," he added with amazement.
"He sent an encrypted data-slate with an acolyte to my quarters aboard the ship I was aboard at the time with official transfer orders, and documents compelling the captain of a merchant vessel docked at the same station to bring us here." said Holt.
The Tech-Priest's mechadendrites twitched slightly, betraying a hint of emotion.
"There isa very long and complicating story preceding that naturally, but I am afraid it would be neither safe—for either of us and for a number of reasons—nor appropriate to tell it to you. Suffice it to say that it involves a great deal of Mechanicus secrets and politics."
As he said this, Holt's gaze wandered off to the side of the Penal Legionnaire, to an oddly shaped patch of rust on the ceiling. Internally, analyzing the few facts Varn had divulged about himself. He was a biochemist, an expert if he was to be believed, but not a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and since he hadn't immediately recognized Holt as a Tech-Priest, it could safely be assumed that he hadn't been born on a Forge World. Working for a fertilization company would imply an Agri or Imperial World background, though a Hive World capable of producing some or all of its own food wouldn't be out to the question.
"Yes, well I suppose I ought to be on my way then. If you have nothing else to do I would like to request you come as well; many of the rites I intend to perform require an assistant. While these tasks would usually be carried out another Adept or a servitor, I've yet to see any of the former—myself excluded of course—and the only servitors I have seen have all been monotask units."
Best to keep him where I can see him until the opportunity arrives to ask the Inquisitor what his crime was.
The Tech-Priest's mechadendrites twitched slightly, betraying a hint of emotion.
"There isa very long and complicating story preceding that naturally, but I am afraid it would be neither safe—for either of us and for a number of reasons—nor appropriate to tell it to you. Suffice it to say that it involves a great deal of Mechanicus secrets and politics."
As he said this, Holt's gaze wandered off to the side of the Penal Legionnaire, to an oddly shaped patch of rust on the ceiling. Internally, analyzing the few facts Varn had divulged about himself. He was a biochemist, an expert if he was to be believed, but not a member of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and since he hadn't immediately recognized Holt as a Tech-Priest, it could safely be assumed that he hadn't been born on a Forge World. Working for a fertilization company would imply an Agri or Imperial World background, though a Hive World capable of producing some or all of its own food wouldn't be out to the question.
"Yes, well I suppose I ought to be on my way then. If you have nothing else to do I would like to request you come as well; many of the rites I intend to perform require an assistant. While these tasks would usually be carried out another Adept or a servitor, I've yet to see any of the former—myself excluded of course—and the only servitors I have seen have all been monotask units."
Best to keep him where I can see him until the opportunity arrives to ask the Inquisitor what his crime was.
Arcturas would find at least one other person near the bridge- Atellus Kaenar stood at a window, looking out at the stars, frowning slightly. There would be something a bit off about the bridge and the area leading up to it, likely- Something not quite right...
Namely, it was that he was alone. No crewman staffed the halls, nothing but machines and blinking lights. It looked like a single-pilot craft, almost, though large enough to admit many more than that. Any crew seen seemed to be solely occupied with loading and packing.
Atellus turned when the detective entered, surprised. Who's this, then? he wondered, his third eye reaching out to examine him... And then there was pain, the pain of looking into an empty, howling void. He'd felt that pain before, when trying to contact a dead astropath, or when once an ork psyker had blown himself up. Atellus shuddered, a hand going to his face instinctively. By the Emperor, why me? Half-blind and slightly stunned, he would appear to have flinched violently to the detective. He straightened up, trying to hide it. "Hello there," he said, mildly. "I would much appreciate it if you came no closer."
Namely, it was that he was alone. No crewman staffed the halls, nothing but machines and blinking lights. It looked like a single-pilot craft, almost, though large enough to admit many more than that. Any crew seen seemed to be solely occupied with loading and packing.
Atellus turned when the detective entered, surprised. Who's this, then? he wondered, his third eye reaching out to examine him... And then there was pain, the pain of looking into an empty, howling void. He'd felt that pain before, when trying to contact a dead astropath, or when once an ork psyker had blown himself up. Atellus shuddered, a hand going to his face instinctively. By the Emperor, why me? Half-blind and slightly stunned, he would appear to have flinched violently to the detective. He straightened up, trying to hide it. "Hello there," he said, mildly. "I would much appreciate it if you came no closer."
Heavy, steel shod boots clanged loudly across metallic flooring as the stout, broad form of the Squat Engineer stumped out onto the bridge, thumbs hitched into his broad tool-belt and pipe clenched between his teeth.
Looking slowly around the ships command deck spread out before him, Thungrim Thunderfist saw that he was alone, but following the Manling Inquisitor's request that he get to know the ship, the Squat puffed out his cheeks and strolled towards the main control panel.
Coming to a stop before the Manlings ship controls, Thungrim ran an armoured hand along its smooth, metallic surface.
"Ello Lass,"
He grunted in greeting to the manling ship, casting an expert eye over the controls, flashing screens and floating Servo Skulls, taking in the craftsmanship and workings of the primitive technology before him.
"Hmpf."
He muttered, stroking his beard thoughtfully, tapping a few of the controls in an experimental manner as he did so,
"We'll soon get ye up an' running properly darling, don't ye worry! Trust this ole Engineer."
Looking slowly around the ships command deck spread out before him, Thungrim Thunderfist saw that he was alone, but following the Manling Inquisitor's request that he get to know the ship, the Squat puffed out his cheeks and strolled towards the main control panel.
Coming to a stop before the Manlings ship controls, Thungrim ran an armoured hand along its smooth, metallic surface.
"Ello Lass,"
He grunted in greeting to the manling ship, casting an expert eye over the controls, flashing screens and floating Servo Skulls, taking in the craftsmanship and workings of the primitive technology before him.
"Hmpf."
He muttered, stroking his beard thoughtfully, tapping a few of the controls in an experimental manner as he did so,
"We'll soon get ye up an' running properly darling, don't ye worry! Trust this ole Engineer."
Several hours earlier...
"What you do mean you don't know where the Enginarium is? Are you not a member of this ship's crew, or are just completely daft about the layout of this ship? I shall make it simpler for you: have you seen any of this ship's tech-adepts, excluding myself of course?" Holt asked of a nervous looking laborer he'd found sleeping in a ventilation duct.
The worker's eyes darted around nervously before he answered, perhaps looking for an excuse to end the conversation, or perhaps planning an escape route if things got ugly.
"Ehh...dunno...Can't say I've seen one, and the boss just brought us on to get the ship ready to fly; I ain't never been on this ship before; I'm just one of the dock workers back at the station."
Holt's eyes narrowed.
This vessel ought to have no less than ten thousand crewmen. Must remain alert, circumstances are beyond the ordinary.
"Very well then. Go back to whatever it is you were supposed to be doing, and by that I mean what you were actually supposed to be doing."
"O-of course milord, right away!" said the worker, before darting off down the hall.
Damn layabouts. thought Holt.
In the corner of his eye, he noticed someone wearing the symbols of the Navis Nobilite—presumably the ship's Navigator—passing by.
"Excuse me, Navigator!" shouted Holt.
The figure stopped and turned.
"Oh I'm hardly in your way Tech-Priest." said Lady Yolande of House Visus, lacing the last two words with a fair amount of venom.
"What, I—I am afraid you've misunderstood me, I have a fairly urgent question which only a permanent crewmember—such as a Navigator—would be able to—" began the Tech-Priest, before being interrupted by a stern and unblinking glare.
"I was perfectly aware of that several seconds before you started talking. I'm just not interesting in answering inane questions from Osbourne's new lackeys. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall be on my way." said Yolande, turning to leave. Holt followed the Navigator.
"Navigator, I stated that this was an urgent matter, and it is indeed quite urgent; can you at least tell me where this ship's crew is?" said the Tech-Priest, struggling to keep up with the Navigator's long stride.
"You're looking at it, or rather a good part of it."
Holt shook his head. "That is not possible; a vessel of this size requires a standing crew of no less than 10,000 humans or about 16,000 servitors and a large detachment of Tech-Priests. I've yet to see any advanced servitors on board this ship, and every human I've spoken to seems to be part of a temporary maintenance crew. Elaborate please."
The Navigator shrugged. "For the most part the ship runs itself."
Holt's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'the ship runs itself?'"
"The weapons loaders are automated, and so are the trams and the lights and the plumbing and so on. Now if you excuse me, I'll take my leave of you know. It's been a real, genuine, pleasure." said the Navigator, before abruptly vanishing before the Tech-Priest's eyes. Holt stopped in his tracks.
"Bloody psykers." he muttered to no one in particular.
"What you do mean you don't know where the Enginarium is? Are you not a member of this ship's crew, or are just completely daft about the layout of this ship? I shall make it simpler for you: have you seen any of this ship's tech-adepts, excluding myself of course?" Holt asked of a nervous looking laborer he'd found sleeping in a ventilation duct.
The worker's eyes darted around nervously before he answered, perhaps looking for an excuse to end the conversation, or perhaps planning an escape route if things got ugly.
"Ehh...dunno...Can't say I've seen one, and the boss just brought us on to get the ship ready to fly; I ain't never been on this ship before; I'm just one of the dock workers back at the station."
Holt's eyes narrowed.
This vessel ought to have no less than ten thousand crewmen. Must remain alert, circumstances are beyond the ordinary.
"Very well then. Go back to whatever it is you were supposed to be doing, and by that I mean what you were actually supposed to be doing."
"O-of course milord, right away!" said the worker, before darting off down the hall.
Damn layabouts. thought Holt.
In the corner of his eye, he noticed someone wearing the symbols of the Navis Nobilite—presumably the ship's Navigator—passing by.
"Excuse me, Navigator!" shouted Holt.
The figure stopped and turned.
"Oh I'm hardly in your way Tech-Priest." said Lady Yolande of House Visus, lacing the last two words with a fair amount of venom.
"What, I—I am afraid you've misunderstood me, I have a fairly urgent question which only a permanent crewmember—such as a Navigator—would be able to—" began the Tech-Priest, before being interrupted by a stern and unblinking glare.
"I was perfectly aware of that several seconds before you started talking. I'm just not interesting in answering inane questions from Osbourne's new lackeys. Now if you'll excuse me, I shall be on my way." said Yolande, turning to leave. Holt followed the Navigator.
"Navigator, I stated that this was an urgent matter, and it is indeed quite urgent; can you at least tell me where this ship's crew is?" said the Tech-Priest, struggling to keep up with the Navigator's long stride.
"You're looking at it, or rather a good part of it."
Holt shook his head. "That is not possible; a vessel of this size requires a standing crew of no less than 10,000 humans or about 16,000 servitors and a large detachment of Tech-Priests. I've yet to see any advanced servitors on board this ship, and every human I've spoken to seems to be part of a temporary maintenance crew. Elaborate please."
The Navigator shrugged. "For the most part the ship runs itself."
Holt's eyes narrowed. "What do you mean 'the ship runs itself?'"
"The weapons loaders are automated, and so are the trams and the lights and the plumbing and so on. Now if you excuse me, I'll take my leave of you know. It's been a real, genuine, pleasure." said the Navigator, before abruptly vanishing before the Tech-Priest's eyes. Holt stopped in his tracks.
"Bloody psykers." he muttered to no one in particular.
Varn nodded, ignoring the protests of his stomach. I’ve no clue where else I can go without getting lost, Varn thought, reflecting back on the previous times he had been forced into the ships like cattle.
“I don’t speak High Gothic if that’s what you need,” Varn said as he followed and then added “I haven’t spoken it in years.”
Varn kept looking to the left and right, trying to figure out what it was that kept the Tech-Priest was interested in.
"Though what did you do before you were recruited? Did you work in the factories, or is this another of these secrects you aren't allowed to share?" Varn asked, trying to keep a conversation rolling.
“I don’t speak High Gothic if that’s what you need,” Varn said as he followed and then added “I haven’t spoken it in years.”
Varn kept looking to the left and right, trying to figure out what it was that kept the Tech-Priest was interested in.
"Though what did you do before you were recruited? Did you work in the factories, or is this another of these secrects you aren't allowed to share?" Varn asked, trying to keep a conversation rolling.
"Knowledge of High Gothic will not be necessary for this task, and I admit I am not completely fluent in it myself, though I can handle all the reading myself; it will almost certainly be in techna-lingua."
"As for your second question, that is something I can freely answer. I hail from the Forge World of Eridani Regius in the Segmentum Solar, which, as a formally educated man, I assume you've heard of. That said, the Inquisitor did not recruit me until long after I had left that planet. While the Artisans of Eridani Regius are responsible for the majority of the planet's considerable industrial contribution to the Imperium, I do not think I would be very suited for that role. I spent several years studying medicae under the Magos Biologis Carenhar, but ultimately ended up joining the explotrator fleet of a certain Archmagos Soranus Tullian."
The pair came to a large steel door labeled 'enginarium.' The light on the panel to the right of the door was red.
"Locked. I anticipated this eventuality." said Holt, not quite addressing at Varn.
"As for your second question, that is something I can freely answer. I hail from the Forge World of Eridani Regius in the Segmentum Solar, which, as a formally educated man, I assume you've heard of. That said, the Inquisitor did not recruit me until long after I had left that planet. While the Artisans of Eridani Regius are responsible for the majority of the planet's considerable industrial contribution to the Imperium, I do not think I would be very suited for that role. I spent several years studying medicae under the Magos Biologis Carenhar, but ultimately ended up joining the explotrator fleet of a certain Archmagos Soranus Tullian."
The pair came to a large steel door labeled 'enginarium.' The light on the panel to the right of the door was red.
"Locked. I anticipated this eventuality." said Holt, not quite addressing at Varn.
Arcturas saw the man at the bridge entryway before the fellow seemed to detect him. He inclined his head in greeting, gauging the fellows harsh reaction to his presence. Psyker, clearly. Most people were uncomfortable around him, but psykers were unable to be around him properly. It was painful to them, as it was described by one, who was a safe distance away. The psyker requested he come no closer, politely no less, and the detective nodded and actually moved to give the man some more breathing room, moving to lean on the wall. He returned the nod to the very short Squat, if memory served of the abhuman races one would deal with in the Imperium. Directing his attention back to the Psyker, he decided a formal apology was owed to the man.
"Apologies about catching you off guard like that. I'll give you all the room I can, when possible. I know folks ain't comfortable around me, at the best of times." It was a polite way of putting most people subconsciously avoided contact, while psionically active were actually harmed by his presence, depending on proximity. Crossing his arms, he left enough room, by his estimations, the psyker could leave with no real contact with the blank zone, having remained at the passageway that split off in different directions. Considering how few real crew he had come across so far, he made a guess this man was part of the Inquisitor's retinue, and an introduction wouldn't be of any harm.
"Well, might as well introduce myself. Names Arcturas Serdali, detective. I'd offer to shake your hand, but that wouldn't end well, would it?" He half chuckled at the comment, but was obviously aware of the fact he would have to tread carefully around the other man. His reaction said that much. There was bound to be other crew moving about, and others of the Inquisitor's retinue. A psyker in the retinue would be a good idea, although he probably wouldn't be working too closely with the man, simply because of the conflicting talents already obvious. But no need to be harsh or unduly impolite in dealing with him.
"Apologies about catching you off guard like that. I'll give you all the room I can, when possible. I know folks ain't comfortable around me, at the best of times." It was a polite way of putting most people subconsciously avoided contact, while psionically active were actually harmed by his presence, depending on proximity. Crossing his arms, he left enough room, by his estimations, the psyker could leave with no real contact with the blank zone, having remained at the passageway that split off in different directions. Considering how few real crew he had come across so far, he made a guess this man was part of the Inquisitor's retinue, and an introduction wouldn't be of any harm.
"Well, might as well introduce myself. Names Arcturas Serdali, detective. I'd offer to shake your hand, but that wouldn't end well, would it?" He half chuckled at the comment, but was obviously aware of the fact he would have to tread carefully around the other man. His reaction said that much. There was bound to be other crew moving about, and others of the Inquisitor's retinue. A psyker in the retinue would be a good idea, although he probably wouldn't be working too closely with the man, simply because of the conflicting talents already obvious. But no need to be harsh or unduly impolite in dealing with him.
"Knowledge of High Gothic will not be necessary for this task, and I admit I am not completely fluent in it myself, though I can handle all the reading myself; it will almost certainly be in techna-lingua."
"Uhm... Sure," Varn answered and then listened to what Tristan had to say. "I've heard of Eridani Regius, though not in deep details. Though life is filled with surprises, you must agree with that," Varn commented as they walked down the various hallways, "I started off working for the Chemical Company of Fenksworld, my birth planet. Worked to increase the chemical reaction of the factories, and then after a few years I was headhunted by the Tsade II’s Fertilization company, to increase the agricultural growth of Tsade II, Frenksworld's nearest agri-world, and that's - " Varn continued, and stopped when the Tech-Priest spoke aloud.
Varn gave a shrug. "We're probably not meant to mess around with the... En-gi-na-rium," Varn said, cutting the word out. "Though then again," Varn looked back to check if there were any people. "Where there's a will, there's a way. As they say. You think there are any form of ventilation shafts leading in?" Varn's Legion mind started to show itself as he scanned the roof and walls for any entrance. "How high would the voltage be if I - " rip the cables out? was what he would have asked, till he remembered whom it was he was addressing.
"Uhm... Sure," Varn answered and then listened to what Tristan had to say. "I've heard of Eridani Regius, though not in deep details. Though life is filled with surprises, you must agree with that," Varn commented as they walked down the various hallways, "I started off working for the Chemical Company of Fenksworld, my birth planet. Worked to increase the chemical reaction of the factories, and then after a few years I was headhunted by the Tsade II’s Fertilization company, to increase the agricultural growth of Tsade II, Frenksworld's nearest agri-world, and that's - " Varn continued, and stopped when the Tech-Priest spoke aloud.
Varn gave a shrug. "We're probably not meant to mess around with the... En-gi-na-rium," Varn said, cutting the word out. "Though then again," Varn looked back to check if there were any people. "Where there's a will, there's a way. As they say. You think there are any form of ventilation shafts leading in?" Varn's Legion mind started to show itself as he scanned the roof and walls for any entrance. "How high would the voltage be if I - " rip the cables out? was what he would have asked, till he remembered whom it was he was addressing.
Holt shook his head.
"I would rather not risk an Inquisitor's wrath when it is entirely possible that he will grant me access to it in time. Beyond that, there's the fact that simply cutting the power to the lock or door, which assumes there is a junction in the wiring near the door—simply cutting it would border on sacrilege—will most likely cause the door to bar itself from the inside and set off dozens of alarms on the bridge, as would blowing it open a demolition pack or cutting through it with a lascutter."
Holt removed the glove from his left hand and passed it through the gene sensor.
"ACCESS DENIED!" Intoned the door. Holt shook his head.
"There was little harm in trying; Osbourne will know I tried to access the Enginarium, but as I intend to ask for the access rites, he will find out one way or another. I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge."
The Tech-Priest turned to leave.
Enginarium access normally restricted, but not to the Mechanicus. Few if any other Adepts on board...But must not think further on this matter until it is made clear if Inquisitor is a Psyker.
"I would rather not risk an Inquisitor's wrath when it is entirely possible that he will grant me access to it in time. Beyond that, there's the fact that simply cutting the power to the lock or door, which assumes there is a junction in the wiring near the door—simply cutting it would border on sacrilege—will most likely cause the door to bar itself from the inside and set off dozens of alarms on the bridge, as would blowing it open a demolition pack or cutting through it with a lascutter."
Holt removed the glove from his left hand and passed it through the gene sensor.
"ACCESS DENIED!" Intoned the door. Holt shook his head.
"There was little harm in trying; Osbourne will know I tried to access the Enginarium, but as I intend to ask for the access rites, he will find out one way or another. I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge."
The Tech-Priest turned to leave.
Enginarium access normally restricted, but not to the Mechanicus. Few if any other Adepts on board...But must not think further on this matter until it is made clear if Inquisitor is a Psyker.
"...I have not the faintest notion of where Osbourne's own cabin is, therefore we should check the bridge." Tristan said, and then turned to leave the area, though Varn kept looking at the door, stroking his chin thoughtfully before he muttered, "Well, I don't recall any of these flashbacks, so I'll presume that I haven't don't anything reckless so far."
He then turned to follow Tristan, his thought mainly evolving around how to he could break down such a door. The Legion would strap melta bombs to Legionnaires and send them running ahead, but I can think of a few concentrated acids which might just go through the, though I wouldn't know for sure how long it would take.
He shook his head, I've come to far to mess around in my dreams. Deal with what is happening, Varn reminded himself.
He then turned to follow Tristan, his thought mainly evolving around how to he could break down such a door. The Legion would strap melta bombs to Legionnaires and send them running ahead, but I can think of a few concentrated acids which might just go through the, though I wouldn't know for sure how long it would take.
He shook his head, I've come to far to mess around in my dreams. Deal with what is happening, Varn reminded himself.
"Well, I don't recall any of these flashbacks, so I'll presume that I haven't don't anything reckless so far."
Somewhere behind him, Holt thought he heard the penal legionnaire whisper something.
I am sorry, did you just say something?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Somewhere behind him, Holt thought he heard the penal legionnaire whisper something.
I am sorry, did you just say something?" asked the Tech-Priest.
Varn gave Tristan a puzzled look before he answered, "I said, I don't remember any of my flashbacks where I was reckless on a ship. So I must have behaved while I was here. I mean... Everything is just a dream. I'm reliving my past mistakes so I can remember why I was sent to Sheol, but I know that they're all just flashbacks," Varn explained, though he couldn't read whether the Tech-Priest was following him or not, so her tried a different approach.
"This is all a dream, flashback, bad memory, call it what you want, but it is all so I know my sin. I'm actually on Sheol XVI, the Penal World, waiting for my papers to be processed and then send back to Frenksworld. Everything that is happening is in the past, it has always been that way. Everything is one long flashback."
Varn had no clue just how mad he was sounding. To him it made perfect sense that it was a flashback and he would be released after having relived it.; he believed it all. "It doesn't make sense to you, because you don't know what is going to happen in the future. I do, because I've already lived through it, it's just a bit hazy right now, but it will get back," he added continuing to walk down the hallway.
"This is all a dream, flashback, bad memory, call it what you want, but it is all so I know my sin. I'm actually on Sheol XVI, the Penal World, waiting for my papers to be processed and then send back to Frenksworld. Everything that is happening is in the past, it has always been that way. Everything is one long flashback."
Varn had no clue just how mad he was sounding. To him it made perfect sense that it was a flashback and he would be released after having relived it.; he believed it all. "It doesn't make sense to you, because you don't know what is going to happen in the future. I do, because I've already lived through it, it's just a bit hazy right now, but it will get back," he added continuing to walk down the hallway.
Thungrim Thunderfist puffed out his cheeks as he worked, drawing in a deep draught from his pipe while his fingers flashed over the ships controls.
The Squat Engineer blew out a series of neat smoke-rings as he checked the ships status, factuality and current state of readiness, familiarise himself with the machine.
"So ye run yerself, lass?"
He asked it, pressing one final button before sitting back in one of the high backed leather chairs fronting the controls, stroking his beard thoughtfully with one hand while still puffing away at his pipe.
"Primitive manling technology,"
He muttered with a dry chuckle, before saying louder to the great screen before him.
"Map!"
An image of the ships layout flashed up on the screen before him.
The Dwarf grinned,
"Well at least that works..."
He raised his voice again,
"Life Forms!"
A small number of blips appeared on the map.
The Engineer removed his pipe and tapped the stem against his teeth thoughtfully.
"Engine Room!"
The screen did not move.
The Squat sighed,
"Bloody Manlings an' their daft names,"
He grunted, before trying again,
"Enginarium!"
This time, a route to the location flashed up over the map, along with a Warning Message.
Reading it, the Dwarf chuckled,
"Ach, looks like someone can't get intae the Engine Room,"
He grinned as he watched the two blips move away down the corridor, before shaking his head sadly.
These manlings just did not trust one another, so much Religious Piety and intolerance, so much arrogance... And yet so little honour.
The Engineers eyes narrowed beneath their great, bushy brows, the Imperium of man may be going to Hell in a Handcart, but Thungrim Thunderfist was damned if he was going to break his Oath...
He had vowed to help this Inquisitor to the best of his ability... And so he would.
The Squat Engineer blew out a series of neat smoke-rings as he checked the ships status, factuality and current state of readiness, familiarise himself with the machine.
"So ye run yerself, lass?"
He asked it, pressing one final button before sitting back in one of the high backed leather chairs fronting the controls, stroking his beard thoughtfully with one hand while still puffing away at his pipe.
"Primitive manling technology,"
He muttered with a dry chuckle, before saying louder to the great screen before him.
"Map!"
An image of the ships layout flashed up on the screen before him.
The Dwarf grinned,
"Well at least that works..."
He raised his voice again,
"Life Forms!"
A small number of blips appeared on the map.
The Engineer removed his pipe and tapped the stem against his teeth thoughtfully.
"Engine Room!"
The screen did not move.
The Squat sighed,
"Bloody Manlings an' their daft names,"
He grunted, before trying again,
"Enginarium!"
This time, a route to the location flashed up over the map, along with a Warning Message.
Reading it, the Dwarf chuckled,
"Ach, looks like someone can't get intae the Engine Room,"
He grinned as he watched the two blips move away down the corridor, before shaking his head sadly.
These manlings just did not trust one another, so much Religious Piety and intolerance, so much arrogance... And yet so little honour.
The Engineers eyes narrowed beneath their great, bushy brows, the Imperium of man may be going to Hell in a Handcart, but Thungrim Thunderfist was damned if he was going to break his Oath...
He had vowed to help this Inquisitor to the best of his ability... And so he would.
Holt gave Varn an odd look before following after him.
Is this some sort of trick? Is he testing me, or his simply a madman? he wondered.
A few moments of tense silence passed before Holt responded, choosing each word carefully.
"That...line of reasoning is inherently self-contradicting. Do you not see the paradox in you bringing up this so called 'flashback' within itself?"
The Tech-Priest doubted that would make a difference; assuming he wasn't lying for some esoteric agenda, this man was clearly delusional, and merely pointing out the impossibility or implausibility of their beliefs rarely makes a difference. He took note of what Varn had revealed about himself. Of course, given the man's apparent delusions, it was entirely possible that Varn could be similarly delusional about other elements of his past.
Fenksworld, Hive World, Homeworld. Sheol XVI, Penal World. Inquisitor has likely promised release in exchange for his service. Must ascertain whether or not his insanity was the cause or effect of imprisionment; unlikely to be no relation. Returning to topic of ship automation, must be careful. Inquisitor could space me, shoot me, or otherwise eliminate me at his leisure. Must not think further on it; Inquisitor could be telepath or have loyal psykers on board. Also shouldn't jump to conclusions; not all possible causes of automation are necessarily heretekal.
Is this some sort of trick? Is he testing me, or his simply a madman? he wondered.
A few moments of tense silence passed before Holt responded, choosing each word carefully.
"That...line of reasoning is inherently self-contradicting. Do you not see the paradox in you bringing up this so called 'flashback' within itself?"
The Tech-Priest doubted that would make a difference; assuming he wasn't lying for some esoteric agenda, this man was clearly delusional, and merely pointing out the impossibility or implausibility of their beliefs rarely makes a difference. He took note of what Varn had revealed about himself. Of course, given the man's apparent delusions, it was entirely possible that Varn could be similarly delusional about other elements of his past.
Fenksworld, Hive World, Homeworld. Sheol XVI, Penal World. Inquisitor has likely promised release in exchange for his service. Must ascertain whether or not his insanity was the cause or effect of imprisionment; unlikely to be no relation. Returning to topic of ship automation, must be careful. Inquisitor could space me, shoot me, or otherwise eliminate me at his leisure. Must not think further on it; Inquisitor could be telepath or have loyal psykers on board. Also shouldn't jump to conclusions; not all possible causes of automation are necessarily heretekal.
Varn started to laugh, "What paradox? You don't believe it because you haven't experienced the future, and by the time you have, we will have parted ways," Varn tried to bring his laughter down to a chuckle, though with minor success. "I know that we will succeed in whatever mission that this Inquisitor has because I am alive in the future. I can't speak for all of us, only myself, of course."
Varn continued to walk down the hallway, occasionally looking back. "Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," Varn commented aloud. "Or should we take our chances?"
Varn continued to walk down the hallway, occasionally looking back. "Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," Varn commented aloud. "Or should we take our chances?"
Atellus nodded, still guarded. He didn't move yet, his third eye hesitantly probing to see just how far the blank field extended. It felt like repeatedly jamming needles into his brain, but knowing just how much space he would need in the future would be a helpful piece of information to have. "I... Apologize. It is not your fault- Neither of our faults, I suppose. I am Atellus Kaenar, astropath." He blinked, even though he had no real eyes to speak of- An instinctive reflex as he more or less psychically squinted.
Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to think of a blank. He'd heard of them, of course, but never had he actually considered the possibility of meeting one. On one hand, the man was a Blunt- But he took it so far that, in a way, he was like a psyker in the other direction. That, at least, deserved a healthy amount of... Respect, he supposed. They were both tools with a very specific purpose; Even if their functions interfered with each other.
Truth be told, he wasn't sure what to think of a blank. He'd heard of them, of course, but never had he actually considered the possibility of meeting one. On one hand, the man was a Blunt- But he took it so far that, in a way, he was like a psyker in the other direction. That, at least, deserved a healthy amount of... Respect, he supposed. They were both tools with a very specific purpose; Even if their functions interfered with each other.
"I would point out that if this was a flashback, it would be impossible for you to inform me of that fact, but I doubt that would change your mind. As such, I suggest we abandon this topic for now."
Holt brushed the metal mask of his respirator unit with his gloved hand as an ordinary man might stroke his beard.
Delusions of safety have made this man reckless; had few qualms about forcing way into Enginarium, suggested it in the first place. Must be cautious around him. thought the Tech-Priest.
"Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," asked Varn.
"Or should we take our chances?" he added.
"Ordinarily that would be true, but this is a highly atypical ship. I doubt there are more than a handful of officers aboard, and either way, I have no intention of breaking into the bridge either if its locked." replied Holt.
Holt brushed the metal mask of his respirator unit with his gloved hand as an ordinary man might stroke his beard.
Delusions of safety have made this man reckless; had few qualms about forcing way into Enginarium, suggested it in the first place. Must be cautious around him. thought the Tech-Priest.
"Oh, by the way... Are you sure we're allowed to enter the bridge? I've heard that it is only Naval officers and those of high rank," asked Varn.
"Or should we take our chances?" he added.
"Ordinarily that would be true, but this is a highly atypical ship. I doubt there are more than a handful of officers aboard, and either way, I have no intention of breaking into the bridge either if its locked." replied Holt.
Varn shrugged to Tristan's comment and kept walking down the hallway, Varn retreating into his own thoughts. Varn allowed the Tech-Priest to lead the way, though they didn't talk much after that, and eventually they arrived before the door which led into the Bridge, where Varn, who was still in his own world, entered the door along.
As Varn stepped in, he gave the room a good look and noticed an abnormally short figure that immediately brought suspicion and fear. "Bloody Warp! I didn't know there was a Ratling onboard the ship," Varn said aloud, and pointed to the stomp figure in the room.
As Varn stepped in, he gave the room a good look and noticed an abnormally short figure that immediately brought suspicion and fear. "Bloody Warp! I didn't know there was a Ratling onboard the ship," Varn said aloud, and pointed to the stomp figure in the room.
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View All » Add Character » 13 Characters to follow in this universe
Newest
Nomina Kellier
The Ghost in your Cogitator
Lady Yolande of House Visus
The Navigator of Inquisitor Osbourne's ship, and a scion of the esteemed Magisterial House Visus
Thungrim Thunderfist
"Ach now listen good Laddie, there's nothing solves a Grudge quite so well as half a ton of high explosives!"
Rabalian Tathell
"Just hold on tight, I can fly this thing, no problem!"
Grag Badruk
'' I juss' do what da boss says..''
Varn Gaius
"They vaporized... By the God-Emperor, what have I done?"
Tristan Holt
"I have braved the farthest reaches of this galaxy for the Quest, and I have succeeded where so many others failed, yet they claim my methods are wanting?"
Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne
The leader of our merry band of misfits.
Arcturas Serdali
"I am Judge, Jury, and if need be, Executioner of those who defy Imperial Law."
Alicia Sabine
"Taking the long view is all well and prudent, but take care that you don't become so preoccupied with it that you miss what's right under your nose."
Trending
Arcturas Serdali
"I am Judge, Jury, and if need be, Executioner of those who defy Imperial Law."
Varn Gaius
"They vaporized... By the God-Emperor, what have I done?"
Alicia Sabine
"Taking the long view is all well and prudent, but take care that you don't become so preoccupied with it that you miss what's right under your nose."
Lady Yolande of House Visus
The Navigator of Inquisitor Osbourne's ship, and a scion of the esteemed Magisterial House Visus
Rabalian Tathell
"Just hold on tight, I can fly this thing, no problem!"
Grag Badruk
'' I juss' do what da boss says..''
Tristan Holt
"I have braved the farthest reaches of this galaxy for the Quest, and I have succeeded where so many others failed, yet they claim my methods are wanting?"
Nomina Kellier
The Ghost in your Cogitator
Atellus Kaenar
"The Warp howls like the storm, but I remain a rock within it."
Gazel Norex Rung
Why does it matter how I do it? I kill the emperors enemies.
Most Followed
Grag Badruk
'' I juss' do what da boss says..''
Tristan Holt
"I have braved the farthest reaches of this galaxy for the Quest, and I have succeeded where so many others failed, yet they claim my methods are wanting?"
Gazel Norex Rung
Why does it matter how I do it? I kill the emperors enemies.
Nomina Kellier
The Ghost in your Cogitator
Varn Gaius
"They vaporized... By the God-Emperor, what have I done?"
Atellus Kaenar
"The Warp howls like the storm, but I remain a rock within it."
Rabalian Tathell
"Just hold on tight, I can fly this thing, no problem!"
Inquisitor Volsk Osbourne
The leader of our merry band of misfits.
Arcturas Serdali
"I am Judge, Jury, and if need be, Executioner of those who defy Imperial Law."
Lady Yolande of House Visus
The Navigator of Inquisitor Osbourne's ship, and a scion of the esteemed Magisterial House Visus
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Your Personal Quarters
by cha-kun on Tue Aug 14, 2012 3:39 am
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Your Personal Quarters
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