Chapter: The Gauntlet
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Part: 3
Onboard Departmento Munitorum: Imperial Transport 'Gauntlet'
Inquisitor's Quarters
"Did you just say 'The greater good,' Handler?"
Calenharn raised an eyebrow at the sudden escalation, a wry smile playing on his lips.
"Inquisitor, we're not Tau Sympathisers,"
he remarked,
"I merely spoke of collaboration for the success of the mission. I did not imply any alignment with the T'au Empire or their twisted interpretation of the Greater Good. So let's not get trigger-happy, shall we?"
Calenharn explained carefully wording his response so as not to get his brain painted across the floor.
Inquisitor Greybrand's eyes narrowed, the dim lighting cast shadows on her stern features as she considered Calenharn's words. The bolter pistol remained trained on him, a reminder of the lethal force at her disposal.
"The Imperium does not tread the path of Xenos scum,"
she retorted, her voice cold and unwavering,
"There is no greater good, only the will of the God-Emperor! If you think otherwise then you're nothing more than a filthy heretic, infected by the taint of the T'au! You are not worthy of the Emperor's mercy, and you shall receive none from me either."
After what felt like an eternity, she spoke again,
"Your attempts at humor won't deflect the seriousness of this situation, Handler. The 'greater good' is a phrase that carries its weight in the Imperium, and you know it well."
Calenharn sighed, realizing that she would have executed him if his explanation had not been good enough.
"Look, Inquisitor, I understand that you have your reservations. But Captain Hox is genuinely concerned about the success of this mission. We can't afford internal conflicts."
The Inquisitor's gaze flickered, and after a tense moment, she lowered her bolter, the cold metal no longer aimed at Calenharn's head.
"You seem to be under the impression that I care about the concerns of Captain Hox,"
She retorted, her tone sharp,
"Collaboration. Unity. Such words are thrown around like hollow promises in the Imperium. But if the Captain wishes to parley, she can come and speak with me herself. I have no inclination to negotiate through intermediaries."
Calenharn took a deep breath, attempting to maintain composure. The Inquisitor's obstinance was as formidable as he had anticipated.
"Inquisitor, Captain Hox extended an olive branch in the spirit of cooperation. I understand your reservations, but the success of this mission is paramount. The Captain is willing to meet with you to ensure that our objectives align."
The Inquisitor's gaze didn't waver, but a thoughtful expression played on her features.
"Very well, Handler. Tell the Captain that I will entertain her proposal."
Calenharn nodded, appreciating the reluctant concession.
"Thank you, Inquisitor."
The Inquisitor didn't respond, her gaze shifting back to the dataslate on her lap.
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Onboard Departmento Munitorum: Imperial Transport 'Gauntlet'
The Bridge
Unlike before, the Bridge was now a hive of activity, the constant hum of machinery, the occasional beep of the consoles, and the fervent chatter of the crew members filled the hall with life. Previously, most of the crew were being examined for Chaos Taint by the Sanctified Psykers of the Imperium, now that all the corrupted crew members were dealt with, the rest of them focused on reaching their destination.
As Calenharn made his way back to the Bridge, he noticed the Captain standing near the command podium, studying the holographic displays that projected the status of the ship and its personnel.
"Report."
She ordered as Calenharn approached.
"Captain, Inquisitor Greybrand has agreed to entertain your proposal for collaboration,"
Calenharn announced, keeping his tone neutral.
Captain Hox's eyes shifted from the hologram to him, there was not a single sign of surprise in her eyes.
"Entertain, huh? Well, let's hope she's in the mood for a pleasant conversation."
Calenharn hesitated for a moment before speaking,
"I would advise approaching the meeting with caution, Captain. The Inquisitor is... not pleasant company. Her loyalty borders fanaticism."
The captain's lips curled in a strange grin as she stared at him, amusement written all over her expression,
"A fanatic Inquisitor, eh? Now where haven't I heard that before?"
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Inquisitor Greybrand's Quarters
The room remained dimly lit, the faint scent of incense lingering in the air. Inquisitor Greybrand sat on her bed, the small dataslate still in her hands. She watched the 'Handler' exit her room and slammed the slate down on the floor just as the door closed behind the 'Handler.'
"Ffuuuuccckk!"
She collapsed on the bed, beads of sweat emerging on her forehead.
"Why did it have to be Warhammer!?"
As many would have guessed by now, Inquisitor Greybrand was... not an Imperial Native. Well, biologically she was, being born and raised on a planet near the solar system, however, her soul was that of a human from the 21st century where 'Warhammer 40k' was nothing more than a work of science fiction.
*Groan*
As for her story? Well, it was a rather pathetic one.
She, Seraphia, was the daughter of a prostitute from a hive world who accidentally got pregnant while 'serving' her 'customer.' But for some throne-damned reason, that said prostitute decided against abortion and gave birth to her and after finding it was a girl... dumped her in a slum orphanage.
Life was pretty hard on little Seraphia.
She was smaller than the rest of the orphans, weaker, slower, and altogether an easy target. Her only talent was that she could somehow sense if someone was telling the truth or the lie or maybe guess the thoughts of some random passerby. Something that saved her life when she accidentally overheard the Matrons talk about selling her off so they could at least take proper care of the other brats.
A bunch of low lives!
What happened after that was a blur in her memory, something along the lines of running away, stealing food, and getting beaten to a pulp on a daily basis. At least that was the case until she turned seven and showed a silver of her Psyker Talent... which nearly got her burnt on the stakes as a witch before she was rescued, traded for, and found herself on a 'Black Ship.'
*Shiver*
Remembering the malice and agony wafting that radiated from that ship still sent shivers down her spine. A ship that has been used for ages like a slave ship to drag Psykers from their home world to the Holy Terra where they were either used as fuel for the Astronomican or trained as Sanctioned psykers for the Astra Militarum.
Fortunately, her exceptional talent in channeling warp energy got the attention of the Inquisitor on board and she was spared the fate of being burnt alive. Didn't make things better as her experience at the Imperial Inquisition's Schola was not worse than death, maybe even more so.
The instructors at the Schola held duels regularly – the ones where only one person walked away. The funny thing is, despite the heads-up that she was an 'Iota' grade psyker at thirteen, the Progenas still thought she was an easy target.
Fast forward to her glorious graduation at eighteen, now as an 'Eta' grade psyker and officially an 'Acolyte.' Memories started seeping into her mind, snippets of a past confined to a single planet, which was most certainly unthinkable!
Her biggest blunder in life? She went and sought help from one of those residents 'Magos Biologis' to sort out her memory issue.
And what does that fuse-sucking, faulty piece of binary do?
Fuckin' report her to the Ordo Malleus, that's what!
Nearly got her executed for heresy!
Luckily her talent kept her afloat during the Standard Terran Year when she was quarantined and interrogated.
After surviving the inquiry, she emerged as an Acolyte who was suspected of warp taint and heresy, making her a no-go for the Ordo Malleus and Ordo Hereticus. Finally, the Ordo Xeno reluctantly took her in because they didn't want to waste any of the precious 'Imperial resources' that the Inquisition had invested so much into.
Soon, she was stationed in the Sinaxria Sector of the Segmentum Tempestus, where she was taken under the care of Inquisitor Kuralua Vortus-Sterbe of the Ordo Xeno.
For five Standard Terran Years, it was all mundane tasks – no major Xenos invasions, no Chaos Cults, just lots of meditation, getting her butt kicked by Adeptus Sororitas of the local Commandery in the name of "Combat Practice," and brewing tea for Inquisitor Sterbe.
She meditated a lot, a lot as in 80% of her free time was spent meditating, it was calming, and it helped her piece together memories of her past life. But five years didn't quite cut it, she barely managed to piece together a year's worth of memory, mostly useless stuff, but there were glimpses and parts of the Imperium's true history in those glimpses.
Her deduction pointed out something strange, it was a somewhat questionable idea but a likely one nonetheless – she was what the people in her past life called a 'Reincarnated person.' A soul flung across dimensions.
But why in the Emperor's name did it have to be Warhammer!?
The universe was far more fucked up than what the Scolas taught her! A LOT more fucked up than simple Heresy, Chaos, and Xenos.
But hey, she was just a simple Acolyte of the Ordo Xeno, looking to live a couple of hundred years as a powerful psyker, and maybe even a thousand if she somehow managed to afford rejuvenation treatment.
Then came the distress call. Inquisitor Sterbe decided to bail with her entire retinue, leaving her in charge. She was happy with this development, that is until the word came that the Inquisitor's ship was lost in the warp.
Next thing she knew, by Inquisitorial orders, she was promoted to full-blown Inquisitor of the Ordo Xeno.
Talk about a surprise promotion.
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