Chapter: 1.7

Chapter: The Gauntlet

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Part: 7

Onboard Departmento Munitorum: Imperial Transport 'Gauntlet'

Command Room

The Inquisitor exited the command room, leaving Captain Hox to attend to her duties. Her mind was already at work, contemplating the best course of action from this moment forward.

There was no heresy on Accazius II or chaos incursion or Genestealer cult!

The planet was far too worthless to attract the attention of any such forces. Its population was less than 10 Million, and its agricultural output ranked last among all the Imperial agri-worlds, not to mention the lack of any strategic fortress or checkpoints. That planet was a waste of the cosmic space that this universe has in abundance, conquered only because its natives resembled humans to a certain extent, and even those genetic deviations had long been flushed out.

*Sigh*

With a long sigh of exhaustion, she walked briskly down the dimly lit corridor of the Imperial Transport, the ship hummed with constant background machinery and crewmembers fulfilling their assigned tasks. The air carried the distant scent of sanctified oil and the faint echo of distant footsteps. A column of Voidsmen-at-Arms stopped and saluted her with the sign of Aquila as she walked past them, mimicking the ridiculous motion before speeding up slightly.

Her private chamber was where she had last left it of course, but she could make out a pair of Troopers standing guard outside. 

Greybrand tensed, her eyes narrowed in concentration as she subconsciously reached out to the warp, tapping into the powers of all that is unholy in this universe. The feeling was... exquisite!

In a manner that could be described as both good and bad.

She could feel the power surging through her body alright, that part was the good one, then came the hammering of chaos. It was nasty, as nasty as the first time she reached out to it as a child. Back then the demons had tried coercing her into giving in, like... coercing a child to take its medicine in return for sweets. 

As a child, Greybrand had almost given in to its pull and slaughtered all those who tried to kill her. Then came the sudden feeling of emptiness as a Sister of Silence pulled her away from the burning stake, her presence was... comforting, soothing even, and the foolish Seraphia slept in the arms of the Emperor's deadliest witch-hunters.

But that was years ago. 

Now, all she felt for the warp was a sense of loathing as it tried to force her into submission, hammering against her mind to allow even a sliver of its taint to slip through her defenses. But she denied it with a soft snarl, reinforcing her mental defenses and fueling herself with the energy stolen from the warp.

The energy coursed through her body, granting her strength to wield the bolter pistol dangling from her belt.

Her lips parted, allowing wisps of vapors to leave her mouth as her body's temperature approached the freezing point. Another disadvantage of using the warp's power while in space... it gets fuckin cold when you channel it, more so than when on a planet. 

As she approached, the Troopers stationed outside her private chamber snapped to attention, acknowledging her presence. She too observed them, they were both equipped with shotguns that would turn a normal human into a wasp's nest with a single shot. 

A normal human, but not her.

"Troopers. What are you doing outside my quarters?"

The two troopers exchanged nervous glances before one of them spoke up, the taller one, his voice had a slight nervous tremor to it as he answered her question,

"The Captain said we need to provide a security and service detail for you at all times, Lady Inquisitor. She said even when you're asleep."

Greybrand felt her eyes twitch in amusement and annoyance,

'Service? Man-whore you mean.'

She thought before reluctantly letting go of her connection to the warp. The feeling of strength turned into an unquenchable thirst for more, but she was familiar with this hunger and was quite experienced in reeling it back.

She shook her head, now more in exasperation than amusement as she ordered the two Troopers to return to their quarters,

"I do not need your protection and... service. Return to your quarters or wherever you were stationed before. If the captain asks, tell her that I dismissed you."

If anything, the two Troopers seemed relieved that she didn't need their 'services,' the Inquisitors had a rather muddy reputation, especially the female ones or rather the younger female ones who didn't have a Retinue and thought themselves to be entitled. 

Well, having the title of an Inquisitor was a pretty sweet perk so.... they were damned right in assuming they were entitled!

After all, the title was not something that could be earned by mere whims. It was something that thousands, if not hundreds of thousands, of people strived for and there was no lack of cutthroats amongst them.

The two Troopers quickly saluted and hustled away from the area, their eyes lingering on the Inquisitor as they did, wondering if this was some sort of kinky roleplay she was into.

The Inquisitor heard their footsteps fade into the distant corridor and shook her head as she turned back to her chamber, muttering under her breath,

"Maybe I should have told the Captain my preference."

What? She wasn't above such needs! 

If those Troopers had been women, tall ones with supple curves, she would have invited them in. Not for anything inappropriate, just for a drink or two and maybe a casual conversation.

She shook her head again, thawing such thoughts before they took hold. This was how Slaanesh took corrupted innocent souls, with a bit of pleasure and then an excess of it... she would be damned if she fell for such petty tricks, both of Chaos and that of the Captain.

If those two Troopers weren't bugged, then she was an Ork!

*Sigh*

She sighed again, thinking that she might have overreacted a bit there. The Captain would not try to eliminate her in such a bland manner. 

The Inquisitor entered her private chamber or quarters or... something or the other. The door hissed shut behind her, leaving her alone in the sanctuary of her dimly lit room. There was a bed, a small one, a desk, which was smaller still, and a humble sofa, which was the smallest of all. This was a far cry from Inquisitor Sterbe's quarters that she had seen aboard the battleship 'Cry of Destiny' before it went missing in the warp.

*Sigh*

She sighed yet again, being reminded of her deceased master, or at least most likely deceased master, but still... she didn't like her situation one bit. It all felt so... wrong. Like something was missing, something was not where it should be, something was hidden from her! 

She walked towards the desk, remaining completely focused on the task at hand. The cracked dataslate suddenly burst into life as she pressed her fingers against its surface. She knew that she needed to review every piece of information that the Navis Imperialis had, which had been denied to her by the Inquisition.

Her body, suffering from a recent bout of strengthening and weakening, collapsed on the sofa, or at least it looked like a sofa, the holographic display flickered into a bright light as she opened the loading files and groaned. 

Column upon column of information scrolled before her eyes—planetary surveys, geography, population census, demography, strategic points, and potential heretical activities. Something that would be of use if she was forced to deploy her troops on the planet, which was unlikely.

The Inquisitor went through every single one of them, memorizing every single detail, most of which she already knew from the Inquisition's files. Soon, things became more... interesting. 

Reports about the previous years' Tithe, both in terms of soldiers and resources, nothing too precious. Then there was a production chart, logs of Navy visits, Governor's activity, etc.

There were purchase reports, a sudden influx of wealth, an order for a large amount of heavy weaponry and other items, the list of which was also amongst the documents, plans for a spaceport that would definitely not be a pirate cove in the coming decade after its creation, an arsenal of new armored vehicles, a... certain shining green sarcophagus being found on the planet and was bought by a certain rich tech-priest on the nearby forge world.

...

..

.

"I should probably ask the captain to turn the ship around."

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