Chapter: 5.2

Chapter: Landfall

Part: 2

Departmento Munitorum: Imperial Transport 'Gauntlet'

The Bridge

The Imperial Acolytes are pawns, admittedly they are slightly less expendable than the common cannon fodders, but they are still nothing more than pawns in the Hands of their masters.

Few ever survive long enough to become Agents of the Throne, and fewer still make it to the Inquisitor rank. Most of these advances in their career are done through political maneuvering and calling in favors long due. 

Still, a very small percentage of Inquisitors are those who have graduated from Scholas and climbed to their ranks through merit and politicking, at least that was the case with the Ordo Xenos. 

Statistical census showcased that 70% of Ordo Xeno Inquisitors have a past they wished to bury behind their piles of achievements. Their origin varies from street rats, thieves, murderers, local arbiters, or even pleasure workers, dregs of the Glorious Imperium taken into service by Inquisitors who found their unique talents quite useful.

And if that was not enough, there was still the division between Puritans and Radicals, ranging from their methods to their roots. Whereas the Puritans had their ranks filled with Schola Graduate Acolytes, or Pure-breed so to speak, the Radicals consisted of all sorts of rabbles.

This divided the combined might of the Holy Orders Of His Majesty's Inquisition.

Conflict between Ordo Hereticus and Ordo Xenos is a perfect example of the same problem. Ordo Xenos believes in 'Getting things done at all cost,' or the Radical approach, while the Ordo Hereticus tends to 'Act befitting their stations,' or the Puritan way of doing things.

As for Ordo Malleus... well... we don't speak about them.

Captain Hox or rather, Inquisitor Hox of the Ordo Xenos, sighed as she scrolled through her Dataslate, reviewing the encrypted communications sent by the Inquisition's office at the Sector Command. She had intercepted several messages before they could make their way to Greybrand... 'Inquisitor' Greybrand so to speak, and things were looking rather bleak.

She still couldn't quite wrap her mind around how an Acolyte jumped the steps to an Inquisitor, but she had warned her former master, Inquisitor Sterbe, against taking that Psyker as her subordinate but had been promptly ignored. Serves her right that misfortune fell on her like a pack of rabid dune-hounds.

Greybrand was a nail, a splinter stuck in between the otherwise oiled gears of the Inquisition, an accident just waiting to happen. Admittedly she was a talented Psyker, perhaps the most talented one in the century maybe even the millennia but... she was dangerous.

The Ordo Malleus had long since started to arrange countermeasures and contingencies in case she fell to chaos and the Ordo Hereticus had left no favors unturned to get her executed but still, that slippery bitch escaped because of the patronage of her father... her 'Real' father, not the gangbanger marked in the Black Ship's records. 

She was the spawn of one of the Terran Lords, a mistake committed during their younger days perhaps, but a mistake done nonetheless.

Even that would have been easily overlooked had it not been for the sudden change of heart that most of the Ordo Xeno had once they managed to scrap out some information about many of the Xeno species in the universe from the barbed shards that made up that wench's memories.

For five whole terran years three Inquisitors, not one, not two, but three Throne damned Inquisitors were prepared to take her down, and quite unfortunately, Hox was one of them. She hadn't had a full night's sleep or a proper taste of a woman in half a decade!

That... 'woman' didn't or rather couldn't sleep, not much at least.

Hox's subordinate psyker deduced that it must have been because of all that knowledge she had stuck in her brain, knowledge about the arch-enemy. The knowledge made her connection to the warp stronger and increased the amount of control she had over it, but there was a price for the warp's blessings. 

As the Ordo Malleus says,

'Nnothing good comes from delving into the pits of shadows.

Greybrand's connection to the warp made her more vulnerable to the taint, especially when she was asleep, so, she slept once a week, for four hours, and that too after injecting enough sedative to braindead a normal person. 

For half a decade! 

Five Terran standard years!

Nearly two thousand days and nights!

And then Inquisitor Sterbe just had to up and die while performing a warp jump, starting another ridiculous banter between the Ordos about what they should do with her. In that moment of distraction, they overlooked the standard Inquisitor succession mechanism, and before any of them could interfere, that ticking time bomb became an Inquisitor as the last surviving member of her Master's retinue!

Hox grimaced, spatting the recaf she had been drinking back into its cup, and dumped it in the hands of a waiting servitor. 

"It's cold, brew me a fresh cup."

The servitor, who might have been a woman once, acknowledged her command via a simple glow of its eyes and went away to brew a fresh cup somewhere.

Hox chuckled, female servitors were rare, or, at least those that retain feminine features are rare. Most of them have long since lost all their distinguishable features and become things in the service of the Glorious Imperium. This unique specimen was gifted to her after she overlooked a certain someone fiddling with Xeno tech, of course, she had it scanned again and again for any bugs but it came out safe.

And... her eyes darted back to the dataslate.

Adeptus Mechanicus discovered that there was a slight possibility of studying the Xeno race named 'Necrons' when they were still asleep. A discovery they made from the Sarcophagus that Magistrate Saba, the lord of Accazius II, discovered on one of his many hunting trips in the vast Orchid forests of his Agri-world. The poor bastard didn't even realize that he just condemned his population to slaughter by selling it to a Mechanicus.

Now, an exploratory fleet that was passing through the sector just changed its destination to this Throne-forsaken lump of mud, and as if that was not enough, they enlisted the help of an Astartes Chapter.

Greybrand's watchers, Hox, and two other Inquisitors thought this was the perfect opportunity to get rid of this burden and sent her on this suicidal mission alongside a pair of disposable regiments.

But now, Hox was regretting not finishing off that disgrace by her own hands...

"WHAT IS THE MEANING OF THIS CAPTAIN!?"

Asked Sister Superior Celestia, in her usual, obnoxiously loud voice.

She and her sisters were ordered to withdraw once communications failed due to a 'Technical' difficulty, and Hox thought that the Sororitas should thank her for not condemning her squad to death but here she was...

"Why did you order the withdrawal without the Inquisitor?" 

Asked the woman again, this time drawing her bolt pistol and aiming at her,

"Speak! Or by the Emperor, you shall die where you stand!"

There was a moment of silence before the Captain's Honor Guard, a squad of Elite Strom Troopers raised their firearms and aimed at the Sister Superior, consequently, the pair of Sororitas behind her also drew their weapons.

Hox raised an eyebrow, unimpressed by the dramatics of the Sister Superior. She leaned back in her command throne, a mix of annoyance and amusement flickering in her eyes.

"Celestia, put that bolter down before you accidentally shoot yourself in the foot,"

Hox said with a dismissive wave of her hand, now sure that she should have let them die with that wretch Greybrand.

"My orders for withdrawal saved the lives of your precious few sisters left from that rag-tag group of refugees you call an Ordo. There are matters more important that have caught my attention, you would do well not to start a bloodbath you won't survive."

The Sister's face twisted in fury but she knew better than to attack a Captain on her home ground, still, she hesitated, keeping her weapon trained on Hox. The Strom Troopers mirrored the tension in the room, not lowering their hellguns.

"What matter could be more important than an Inquisitor's life?"

Celestia demanded, her tone challenging.

Hox sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose, now she was certain that this Sororitas squad was more trouble than it was worth. Sure the Order of the Arctic Fire had a record for being expert witch-hunters, but there were too few of them left to even make up the foundation of an Ordo. An utter lack of tact, a disadvantage that was being reflected by this 'Superior's' foolhardiness.

"I'm not at liberty to disclose the details. Just know that it's above your clearance, and interfering with the Inquisition's orders won't bode well for you or your sisters."

The Sister seemed torn, and she should be!

Her squad had just abandoned an Inquisitor in a life-threatening, and hopefully fatal, situation. At best, they would all be converted to Repentias, and at worst, they would be excommunicated and shot on the spot. 

Personally, Hox preferred the former, those Repentia are always so desperate to cleanse themselves of 'sins' that they would follow any command that an Inquisitor gives them, be it to charge an Ork or die in glorious combat... Hox never made them do any such thing, she preferred the rather less modest and less gory commands of being pleased in the bed.

While Hox was lost in thoughts of her last rendezvous with a group of Repentias, the Sister Superior was torn between her choices. After a moment of tense silence, she reluctantly holstered her bolt pistol, the Strom Troopers followed her example and lowered their weapons.

"Fine... Captain. But you better have a damned good explanation when the Inquisitor returns... 'if' she returns."

Celestia warned before turning on her heel and marching out of the bridge, her two battle sisters following suit.

Hox shook her head, muttering under her breath.

"Zealous fools, the lot of them."

She should have left them to die, just like the Guardsmen and Guardswomen and those fools of Greybrand's retinue... but these were protected by her colleagues from Ordo Malleus, no telling what goes through their heads.

Turning her attention back to the dataslate, she continued scanning the intercepted messages and those sent meant for her as well. The content was mostly the same, except for a few discreet orders regarding the Inquisition's true intentions in involving themselves with the Mechanics' business. 

The Inquisition wanted a piece of the pie called 'Necron Tech,' and for that, they had sent one of their wild cards to stick her neck out in case things went up in smoke. Greybrand might be useful to some of the Ordo Xeno members, but that usefulness needed to be squeezed out over a long period, and no Inquisitor had that much patience.

So, this was an attempt to take out two birds with one stone, or rather two Aeldari with one shot.

"Prepare the Incendiary Warheads Torpedoes,"

Hox ordered her new second-in-command, standing at the foot of the command throne,

"Incinerate what remains of the Space Station. Let us start with Pest control, shall we?

The crew jumped into action, scrambling about to carry out her orders, Vox messages were relayed to the Tech-Priest shrine so they could bless the warheads and to the weapons' station to calculate fire trajectories.

After all, the Gauntlet was no mere transporter, it was an Inquisitorial Transporter!

An Ordo Xenos Inquisitorial Transporter! 

Those who underestimate it are in for a rude awakening!

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