Winds of Fate

[Ilairon]

Anubis sat in solitude within the Sempri Prospero. Servitors and slaves still clambered to rearm the ship. The conflict on Brandelass was still fresh in the Sorcerer Lord's mind, and he intended on his three ships being fully armed and armoured before they left the Sempri system.

Two weeks had passed since their return to Sempri, and the solar system seemed much the same as before...except the Eldar had left. Anubis still had a pile of reports on the incident to read, but it seemed the Eldar had come and gone with little incident, as if they came to get something, and left when they found it. Anubis would ask 'Steve' about it later.

The study was closed, Anubis' thoughts were the only thing wandering around the hexagonal room. There was so much information in his mind, so much to learn, so much he had yet to understand. But the information was there, the daemon, Maeshra, had left itself open, and its knowledge was now sitting in Anubis' mind, just waiting to be unlocked.

For the moment, the Thousand Sons Lord was enjoying the silence, his thoughts rolling freely through the room. He was scrying the stars for opportunity. His lieutenants, Phaerun and Icarus, were on their ships, seeing to various details of the arming procedure. Prophen was running across the Sempri Prospero with supply list in hand, running through numbers and supplies.

Anubis was looking at a list of sorts. A list of psykers the Inquisition had tabs on. His eyes rested on the most powerful: the Alphas. One name after another, Anubis went down the list, scrying the universe for the psykers, muttering to himself as he found each more insane than the previous one.

his eyes rolled down to the next name: Kait Cycis. The Sorcerer Lord opened his mind to the vast emptiness of the void, and searched for the owner of the name. Tzeentch helped to guide his loyal servant, and soon Anubis found himself staring at a young girl wearing a black robe that reminded him of the plague God. Nevertheless, he looked into her soul...and what he found intrigued him - no madness, no insanity, no possession. Kait Cycis was afraid of her powers, sleeping innocently enough as she was. He could change that.

*************************************************************

"Kait, how are you my dear?"

"..."

"My name is Anubis Propsin. I am a Lord of the Thousand Sons Space Marine Legion. Do you know who they are?"

"..."

"There is nothing to fear. I am not a daemon if that is what you think. I am a psyker like yourself. Like yourself I am hunted."

Again there was no reply. Anubis wondered if the girl knew how to respond.

"Don't worry. We will meet soon enough. Trust me. I wish very much to meet you. I wish to help you. Sweet dreams, Kait Cycis of Charos."

~Originally Posted by Ilairon

[Ilairon]

Kait lay huddled in black robes "borrowed" from a crew member of the ship. She was sleeping silently in the cargo bay of the ship. Stowing away hadn;t been easy, and even now her mind was playing over the events that had happened. Her chest rose and fell slowly, and she turned over on the cold metal floor. The robes were too big for her, but they were very comfortable. She had not meant to fall asleep, but it weas hard not to. The roar of the ships engines and the rattling of the hull as it travelled could not stop the fatigue that had engulfed her. Her hair had fallen across her face, and it squng as the ship vibrated.

Her peaceful, dreamless sleep was interupted by a voice. It was unfamiliar, not her consciene or her fathers. The voice was calm, almost reassuring. The voice was detached, unfamiliar yet the voice she had known all along, and it frightened her.

As soon as the voice mentioned the words Space Marine, her hands unconciously tightened around the Imperial Eagle close to her chest. Her faith had always been that of the Emperor, and she knew that her powers where a blessing and a curse from him. She was being tested in her loyalty, and she would not fail Him. The voice continued to talk, and fearing it was a daemon she almost woke up. Until he spoke the words. Like you.

The voice seemed nice enough, but she hoped that she didn;t meet the person behind it. She was not like him. She did not use her powers. They were her paranoia. She though about it, but woke up in a cold sweat as the craft jolted horrendously to the left, and she slided into one of the large metal containers, the dull thud of her skull on metal ringing around the cabin. No one was in it, and she was lucky that there wasn't.

She found her eyes out of focus, a dizziness hung over her head. The pain in her head was getting worse and the ship seemed to be getting more erratic. Her breath came in sharp bursts, her forehead sweating profusely. Her robes were damp in a matter of minutes. She brushed her hair aside, it always got in the way. Her vision began to clear and she saw a bright yellow cargo box. On the side was marked a planet name. She couldn;t quite make it out yet, but she slowly climbed to her knees, and then pulled herself up with the aid of a bar on the container behind her.

With another jerk, she was thrown back down to the floor, and metal biting into her legs. Again, she got up and tried to see the planet name on the container. She walked over to it, cautiously and quietly. She rested her hand on the cold, dirty surface of the container. She brushed away some dust on the surface, and her eyes were in focus now. She was going to Surabi XI. What a strange name.

Where did the man say he was going?

~Originally Posted by Nightbringer

[Ilairon]

The Thousand Sons Lord rose from the throne situated in the center of the sorcerous study. Dressed in flowing robes instead of his armor, Anubis resembled a refined noble bar his hair, which was - as ever - a disheveled mess. It was an expression his chaotic faith.

Cut short, his hair was a minor detail that nevertheless, played out various aspects of his character. Brown bangs came down as sharp daggers across his forehead, roughly an inch above his eyes. Brown strands of genetic fate weaved back and forth over his head. Criss-crossing hairs spiked at odd degrees (all of which were multiples of nine), giving him the look of someone who had too little time to keep up appearances. In reality, the Sorcerer Lord kept it cut at exact intervals, short so as to never present a combat liability.

As Anubis left the study, his eyes smiled at the spot where he had battled Maeshra. He almost wondered whether the daemon was skulking in the Warp, prowling the Material for a new host so that he could take revenge on the Chaos Lord. It would not surprise Anubis if he was.

Following the pristine conduits of the Sempri Prospero, Anubis reached the bridge. Its design was similar to the study except the hexagon was irregular, and bookcases were replaced with machinery.

The traitor Adeptus Mechanicus of Sempri had alligned with Anubis in a pursuit of knowledge. They had not turned their back on their brethren on Mars, and Anubis allowed astropathic communications between the two. As Imperial worlds, the planets orbiting Sempri had proved stagnant. Anubis offered a greater chance to find relics from the Dark Age of Technology than his Imperial counterparts, and so, following logical reasoning, the Adeptus Mechanicus had sided with him in his war for the Sempri system. But they did not reveal their secrets to him, and an understood agreement existed between the two that Anubis and his sorcerers would not search the Adepts' minds for their secrets.

The Mechanicus agent who acted as envoy to the Sorcerer Lord was a strasnge curiosity. Tenruem Penance was a short man, if the term could be applied to the man who was more machine than organic. The Sorcerer Lord could not help but admire the man's efficiency as he ran from station to station, venerating the machina and saying prayers to Omnisiah.

Anubis himself held little stock in the Machine Spirit or the Omnisiah, but if it made the Adepts happy to say their prayers, and cast oil and ointment on the equipment Anubis used, he was willing to oblige...so long as they kept the machines working in perfect order in the end.

Anubis sapphire robes, followed him as if compelled. When he neared Tenruem who was dressed in the red robes of his office, Anubis smiled and spoke softly, "Are we ready to enter the warp?"

"The machine spirit is still restless, but I believe it will be ready in another hour."

"Good, the last of our supplies are onboard, and I intend to go to the planet Surabi XI. I don't suppose you've been there."

"No, I can't say my duties have sent me there, but I know a Genetor Magos Prozna who is there. One of the best in his field, albeit I don't know the specifics."

More likely he just doesn't want to tell me them; no matter.

"Well I doubt you will find anything of interest there, but if you wish you can meet with this Prozna while I attend to my own business."

Anubis turned and walked off. Tenruem returned to his prayers and repairs.

Reaching his dais on the bridge, the Thousand Sons Lord smiled at the fine craftsmanship of the ship...nevertheless it was not an equal to his first, the Prospero Templace. Alleriss (Marko shall from this point forward be termed Alleriss by Anubis) had escaped vengeance for his treachery yet again, and Anubis' outer calm was opposite his inner restlessness.

"Meet me in my quarters." The psychic message was quick and to the point, and Phaerun, Icarus, and Prophen would quickly comply. Anubis smiled and rested in his dais for a few minutes.

~Originally Posted by Ilairon

[Ilairon]

As Kait stood staring at the container, she heard faint voices at the other end of the hangar. They were cheer, and one seemed to be drunk. Flashes of light from torches slowly edged their way to Kait. As they tore at the concealing darkness, she walked lightly and quicky behind another container, but fell as another jolt rocked the ship. She slid across the floor, back in the direction she came, trying to grab onto anythign she could. The damn robes were just to soft, and she slipped into the open, where she was sure the two men would find her. Bracing herself for the cries, she lay there. When they came, they were surprised, not angered. The two men also had slipped, and had not seen Kait.

A smashing was heard as one of the torches smashed, and Kait heard a rolling, but did not realise what it was until a torch hit her. It hit her softly, bouncing off of the soft material of the robe, but span round and flickered before going out. The light from overhead she had used earlier was a long way away, and now she was in almost complete darkness. If she got up, the torch would roll further and the men would look for it. As she heard the groans of the men, she acted quickly. Her hand was shivering, but she managed to lodge the torch securedly into the side of a container. She picked herself up quitly and tried to make a get away to the other part of the hold, when she heard it.

A loud clang whizzed across the room just as the men had gotten up amid a volley of curses. The torch continued it's roll, and began to pick up speed. The metal on metal pounded into Kait's ears along with her heartbeat. As she crept around another corner, she saw the men run past, trying to catch the torch before it went the length of the hold. Wiping her brow, Kait, moved away from the men while keeping track on them, before going into a corner and huddling up, making herself as small as possible. Her breathing was barely heard of the straining of the ships superstructure, and for that she was grateful. Minutes past while she heard the men arguing. Eventually, she heard their slow footsteps coming back in her dierection.

Trying even harder to remain inconspicous, she warpped every last part of her body in the robes and curled up into a starnge version of the fetal position. A light flashed on the robes and she stopped shuffling. It was not very bright, and she heard one of the men grumble:

"Some of the crew are a bit messy eh? Or may'be the capt'n was giving the navigator a little lovin' eh?"

The two men walked on as if they had not recognised the robes for what they were, and for this, Kait was thankfull. She waited for the men to leave the room, and as soon as she heard the clang of the door she ripped the robe off of her face and breathed in the cold air surrounding her. She tried to slow her breathing, and it sort of worked, althpough she was in a state of recovery on the cold metal floor for a few minutes. Sucking in the cold, conditioned air, she did not expect the bump that sent her crashing into a container on her back. She gave out a half wail before covering her mouth with her hands. Warp travel was not her favourite method of travel.

Fearing she had been heard, and crawled as quickly as she could behind a series of four crates, keeping her head low and hoping for the best. The door once again opened, it was the two men.

The Emperor was really testing her today...........

~Originally Posted by Nightbringer

[Ilairon]

Turcinna Rafise felt his boots shake as he clattered down the ramp into the open courtyard of the prencinct. Enclosed by 25ft high walls, and encompassing an area large enough to fit 1000 men in, fully assembled, the courtyard was an impressive sight. The activity was also immense, In one corner, the Precinct hangar eccompassed a squadron of 12 Lighning Strike Fighters, specially configured for the Arbites' needs, along with 3 Valkyries, and 2 Arbites Shuttles. Next to these lay the more convential vehicles for the Arbites, the trusty Rhinos, flanked on one side by a row of 20 or so bikes.

Turning, he scanned the yard, his eyes passing over eager young Vigiles, to the Provost training them. He walked up to his inferior, the man stepping down from the steps of the central bell tower as the Marshal Secundus approached.

"Provost, you were out with Foxtrot patrol this morning?" Rafise enquired.

"Yes, Sir, What of it?"

Rafise didn't like the Provost's snappish tone. He continued nevertheless.

"Tertius Aseda tells me that you neglected to fill in a combat report. Lieutenant in charge of Foxtrot reports you pursued and destroyed a convene of gangers in the patrol vehicle. Is this true? Did this combat take place?"

"Sir, with respect, I don't think Marshal Tertius Aseda has the authority to enquire upon my activities when accompanying a patrol, even if she is my superior-"

"Marshal Aseda is a competent Arbiter; she operates within the confines of the code. If there is a problem, let Marshal Tertius Yurric know, he'll forward it to the Primus, if he gets round to it. Most likely he'll be buried in paperwork people forgot to fill in themselves. Good day, Provost."

Rafise turned on his heel and walked back towards the guardhouse. Upon entering the cool atrium, he nodded at the young, delicate face of Marshal Tertius Aseda, and they walked toward the grav-lift.

"You were watching?"

"Servo-skulls aren't just for patrolling the precinct, Sir."

Rafise's tone turned half-serious.

"Teresa, I can sort out problems with personnel, but misuse of Arbites property is unacceptable." He smiled at his companion and protégée, and entered the grav-lift.

In the secluded space of the lift, all pretense of formality was dropped.

“So, what are you up to Turce?”

“Going to see the truthseeker. There’s a busy sky out there, someone’s gotta watch it.”

“That old man; why bother, he can’t have much useful to say…”
Rafise felt an anger welling up inside him; an anger that spoke, although Teresa was knowledgeable and skilled, she was by no means a fully trained Arbiter yet, and most definitely not equipped well enough for the fight for the Imperium.
He reached over and pushed her into the side of the grav-lift as the doors opened onto a deserted corridor.

“That ‘old man’ will save your life one day, he has done to me on several occasions; He sees thing no man can see, and should ever want to. He carries a burden for us all. Understand this Teresa, as my pupil, you must learn this.”

She looked scared at his outburst. She managed to part her lips and utter two shaky words.

“Yes Sir.”

She exited the lift, striding down the corridor, head held high.

The Secundus could hardly remember the day that he met that 12 year old Teresa, the day he arrested her father. She was forbidden to even attempt to find out where he was housed, that was certain, and as far as Rafise knew, she obeyed that command. There were careful securities placed on the , and only Marshal Secundi, such as himself, and the Primus could authorise entry to the cell blocks.

Of all the Marshals, except for the Primus, Rafise was the superior; being Second-in-Command of the precinct House. The other Marshal Tertii were commited to specific duties; Yurric for instance, was effectively the Primus’ scribe, helping the incumbent Marshal, who was more likely to be working administratum cases, instead of fighting crime and protecting the Emperor’s flock, the job of which now fell to Rafise. Teresa was the other Administrator, albeit reluctantly, as Rafise knew full well she was after fieldwork.

The door to the Truthseeker’s loomed ahead, and he stopped to be scanned outside the entrance. A hidden scanner read his electronic tag, and just to be sure, activated a voice pattern recognitive program.

“Marshal Secundus Turcinna Rafise.”
“Access-“ There was a pause as the ancient voice-synth glitched, “Granted,”

The door slid open with a quiet hiss, and there stood the Truthseeker, just a few feet inside the door, as he always did when Rafise came to consult him. His scalp, completely devoid of hair, was pale and his skinned looked sickly. Rafise doubted he could shake the psyker’s hand without breaking something.

“You still retain that odd aura, Lieutenant.”

“Your powers of mind are indeed amazing, truthseeker, but your powers of memory leave a little to be desired.”

The elderly face smiled briefly, and replied in a soft quiet tone.

“I understand your words but not your meaning, my Lord.”

“9 years ago I won this, Provost’s medal. And I got this too.” Rafise pointed to the Marshal’s badge on his chest. “The fastest promotion on Surabi, I believe.”

“Ah yes, now I remember. Time can twist, and confuse, Marshal Secundus.”

“As you have told me many times over, truthseeker. The reports?”

Rafise’s voice was neither impatient nor intolerant; he had grown used to the psyker’s slow methods, in fact they seemed positively rapid compared with some Arbiters in the precinct he could name.

“Your scribes were most useful this week. I have the reports in full, on time. Shipping movements in and out of the docks in Permisceo, as you requested.”

“As I always do.” He picked up the reports from the low table. He looked round the room; it functioned as the truthseeker’s permanent residence here in the Precinct, and also as his workstation. As far as rafise was concerned, this was the only place that psykers deserved to be, for their own sakes as well as the Imperium’s. Confined from the savage and brutal world outside, they could do no harm.
“This is most excellent, Truthseeker. I could not get this quality of work from the Administratum if I gave them a month’s notice.”

“I am only glad to be of service, Marshal Secundus.”

“As am I, Truthseeker. Don’t hesitate-“

“To call upon you for anything urgent. And I won’t. Good day.”

There were only three people that Rafise trusted to the utmost, and they were the truthseeker, Teresa and the Divine Being. Nevertheless, if he was called upon, he would not hesitate to sacrifice both the former in the service of the latter. His morals and feelings could not conflict with his undying duty of faith to the Emperor.

He shuffled through the psyker’s reports once more, and spotted a recent entry. A beacon signal, headed by an out-of-system transmission code.


+++SHIPPING ENTRY+++

Registrar: 6667345.453

VESSEL: Imperial Merchant Navy Vessel, Mercator class Saint Ursunius

DESTINATION: Surabi XI

CARGO: 10,000 tonnes – Saderican comb-worm silk
500 crates – speeder maintenance parts

ETA: 48 Terran hours approx.

+++END ENTRY+++


This ship was due in the main spaceport in just under 2 hours, and Rafise decided to undertake an inspection of the ship personally.

~Originally Posted by Beorn

[Ilairon]

"My Lord, Lord Phaerun and Lord Icarus' shuttles have arrived," said the Captain.

"Thank you Prath; I'll leave you in charge of the bridge." Anubis turned, his robes whirling about him, and his concerns were few and random.

Minutes later, he was following one crystal-lined corridor to his quarters. With a psychic will, he opened the dark obsidian doors that marked his room onboard the ship. The room was cool and gently flowing. A table, a bed, a throne-like chair, several bookshelves, tapestries, pedestals, and banners were the prominent points in his room, all of which had nine - not neccessarily proportional - sides. The Jackal motif was almost excessive, but Anubis barely noticed it.

Prophen was the first to arrive. Wearing the teal and violet robes of his office as Governor of the Sempri solar system, Prophen looked strangely composed. This was contrasted by his face which wore a large, almost naive, grin. The thought of Prophen being naive ammused Anubis, but he held his composure, smiling instead of chuckling.

Icarus was the next to enter the room, dressed in splendid silk, silver-lined white in appearance, apparently continuing the angelic feint from Brandellas. His face was - as par usual - new, this time Anubis was met by black hair held in a stylised knot, cut short on top, bangs pointing towards the heavens. Blue eyes stared at Anubis, and near normal features, lightly tanned, would have likened him to a commoner working in a manufactorum if not for his clothes.

Phaerun was the last to arrive, wearing his terminator armor but with his helmet off. The 'Scorpion' had been in conference with the leading strategists of the Sempri military in regards to the Eldar raiders who had forced Anubis to take flight as well as the continuing defense of the Sempri system. Phaerun was perhaps the least wanting of power out of all four present; that was the reason Anubis had made Phaerun his chosen successor should he succumb to death.

Anubis sighed inside. If not for the lies of the Imperium his...friend would probably be a mere farmer content to live peacefully under the open sun with a wife and children. Prior to their induction the two had discussed their dreams.

The sons of Caiphen had held different aspirations, Anubis to be great and powerful, Phaerun to be at peace. The giant of a man almost held an innocent redemptive value...almost. But after their induction, Phaerun had tossed away his dreams, and Anubis had given up his wife and their three children. Anubis still held a minor longing to know 'what if,' and Phaerun, although he tried to hide it, was often merciful; a weakness Anubis disliked but allowed out of friendship as well as politics. Anubis supposed it was why the 'Scorpion' was viewed as fair, or kind...no not kind, but fair. Anubis could care less about the life of any human in the Imperium, but Phaerun was, well, he didn't kill if he didn't have to...

"I have found an Alpha that could fit our needs. The Sempri Prospero is the only ship that will be making the voyage. Phaerun, I'll leave you in charge of our forces whilst I'm away. Icarus and Prophen, you will accompany me. All the Jackal Guard will be joining us as well as my Chosen, twenty automatons, and the crew and slaves needed for the journey. We will take an additional thunderhawk."

No one said anything, but a simple understanding passed between the four complex lords. Phaerun was the first to leave, followed by Icarus. Prophen lagged behind, still grinning.

"Why are you so smug?"

"The Steward of Sempri (Prophen's new self-proclaimed title) has a gift for the Savior of Sempri. The people (slaves and tech adepts) have worked tirelessly to mend a wrong from your previous stay here."

"And what would that be?" Anubis eyebrows peaked with plain curiosity.

"Your old armor went missing, lost in orbit when the Prospero Templace was destroyed...or so we thought. Sempri ships found the armor, damaged as it was, and adepts of the Mechanicus reforged it."

"Reforged it?"

"Yes, it now reflects your title as Savior of Sempri."

From the shadows, what resembled a suit of power armor rose, animated by Prophen's hand. It came closer to Anubis, but the Sorcerer Lord saw it was made not of ceramite or adamantium, but of Sempri crystal and bonded with Sempri crystal-plaz.

"The crystal and cyrstal-plaz are the most obvious refinements, and I'm sure you've noticed them. They should strengthen provide a better conduit for you to use your powers. The Helmet was restored to its exact original state, ceramite and all, except the eyepieces were replaced with Sempri crystal. As you may know, Sempri crystal is stronger than even adamantium or ceramite, and weighs about a tenth as much."

Anubis didn't know the interesting statistic, and it brought other questions to his mind. "Then why are Adeptus Astartes loyal to the False-Emperor wearing suits of ceramite and adamantium as opposed to Sempri crystal?"

"Because extraction requires intense labor and large expenditures of energy and time. With costs even higher to refine the mineral, it is a hidden asset. And because we liked it that way. Sometimes it is good to be obscure."

"And can I wear it?"

"Yes. All the internal aspects are the same."

"And you are sure that is stronger than ceramite?"

"It is roughly as strong as your artificer armor, but is far more durable, flexible, lighter, and offers a greater range of mobility."

"Is that it then?"

"There is one more thing...the adepts also forged you a Sempri sword, equivalent to a powersword, but providing - as with the armor - a conduit to the warp, which will allow you to channel your powers into the sword. The pommel gem is actually shaped to mimic your skull, and one-ninth the size. Made, of course, with Sempri crystal."

The blade floated into Anubis' hand, and Prophen left the room. Events were getting better and better. They would journey into the warp in two hours.

~Originally Posted by Ilairon

[Ilairon]

Kait's first thought was that they were getting closer. Their steps echoed on the hard metal grates, and their voices were gruff. They were annoyed, and they were restless. The journey had been uneventful and they wanted something to happen. Prowling around the huge room, the two men now had another torch. The beams licked across the ceiling, wiping away the darkness. They revealed scorch marks from some explosion long ago, and it probably was not repaired very well. Her breathing was heavy, her pulses quick, but she was used to it. She had lived like this for three years.

The two men did not talk as they crept between the storage crates, rather than giving themselves away like amateurs, these pro's were hunting alone. Quick, light foot falls were heard about the room. They had a stowaway. The guards looked for the closest alarm. As soon as it was hit, over ten people would be searching the room. Kait stopped, her heart racing, panic running through her mind and she froze, waiting for the enevitable wail of the alarms. Instead she heard something else. The guard was about to reach for it, when a voice rang through the speakers.

"Disengaging from the Warp"

Hearing this, the men ran to the door, shut it and sat down on the other side. The heater in the stirage rooms was broken, and although they were vacuum-proff, the cold would get in. Kait knew something was wrong. As the sirens wailed, she stopped a loose panel in one of the storage boxes. She pried it open, the feat exhausting her, before bundling herself in. She landed on something soft and unexpected. Silk. The ship was transporting silk! Without thinking, she pulled the side back shut and just in time too.

In the void near the Surabi system, a small rip opened in the fabric of space. If it could be heard, it would have been an immense noise. Silently, seeming deadly, the red, battered prow of a ship cut through the fabric, tearing it further. It came out, dragging behind a bulky cargo ship. The blacker than black void echoed with emptyness, no light espacing it's hold. The ship came out, and suddenly, the rip closed up, a small white light forming at the join, and soon fading. The ship seemed small, and it was. The small engines on the back did not seem able to push the bulk of the ship, but it did.

The ship seemed to slowly move along, even though it was travelling very fast. The Surabi system was distant, the star just a light washing over the ships cold hull. The light was weak, they were in the outer system.

Kait felt a chill surround her, a very cold chill. She wrapped up in the silk, hoping that it would keep her warm. Almost shivering, Kait curled up, drawing heat back to her body. The silk wrapped around her form, the smooth texture making her feel at ease. Her breath came out in clouds, even inside the container.

This was sooo not her day.........

~Originally Posted by Nightbringer

[Ilairon]

The chair groaned under the Inquisitor’s weight as he reclined into an easier position. His chamber was sparsely decorated, relatively small. Winifred was tolerant of the Spartan decoration, though; humility was a virtue firmly-established in his order. The oaken desk before him, set against an adamantine wall, was strewn with parchment. A nearly-empty ink bottle was perched precariously upon a particularly thick pile of paper, a quill pen protruding from the open top.

An intercom set in the ceiling crackled briefly. “Disengaging from the Warp,” one bored-sounding crew member said. Always a pleasure to hear that announcement, Winifred thought. There was the fact that sleep was all but impossible in the Immaterium- not that Inquisitors slept often, and briefly on the rare occasions that they did. More sinister was the thought of what lurked just outside the warp shields of a ship when it traveled through the accursed realm: the very things the Ordo Malleus had been founded to protect against.

“Something bothering you, Lord?” A head was poking in the door, eyebrows raised questioningly.

“Ah, Muller, just the man I would have by my side,” Winifred proclaimed with a grin, abruptly shoving his previous thoughts into a dark corner of his mind. “Oh, you might want to shut that door quickly, not sure if you heard the…”

Muller stepped in and clear of the heavy door just as the deck began to vibrate; the door slammed shut with surprising force, unbidden by the Acolyte.

“…Comm,” he finished. The Interrogator smiled warily. “To answer your question… I am an Inquisitor. There is always something bothering ones of our profession.” Winifred rubbed the bridge of his nose with his thumb and forefinger, the only parts of his body other than his head that remained unarmored.

“The psyker, I presume?”

“Just why I chose you as my apprentice- a free thinker, taking the initiative. Yes, the psyker has been on my mind. The Hives were frustrating. I couldn’t get a scrap of information from anyone- always looking for cash, those underhivers. Flash my Inquisitor’s badge and my cover is blown. Fork out too many copper Imperials and I’ll get false information. The fact is, she was not there. Even a dimwit could have seen it.”

The frustration was clear in the Inquisitor’s steely blue eyes. He leant his head back and closed his eyelids, massaging his forehead with one hand. The Acolyte deftly snatched up a crystal bottle of brandy from a shelf on the wall, along with a shotglass. Winifred accepted it wordlessly and downed the glass in one gulp. His eyes widened as his mind registered what he had just drunk, and he began sputtering and coughing, conduct quite unbecoming of one of his stature. Muller looked unsure of himself, but Winifred grinned through his tears and motioned for another glass.

“May I venture to ask something, Inquisitor?”

Winifred gestured patiently for Muller to go on, downing the second shot glass- with a bit more preparation this time.

“I can’t help but feel a presence on this ship. I’m not a psyker, but even without the gifts I can sense something nearby. It is… disconcerting.”

The Inquisitor winced. “Please, man, do not mention ‘gifts’ in conjunction with ‘psyker’. I, of all people, would know the difference.” He was quiet, eyes downcast. “I’m not much of a psyker myself. I cannot even wield a proper force weapon for want of talent. But I am of the Daemonhunters, and psychic skill is an asset when fighting an enemy such as ours. As a minor psyker, I can sense shifts in the warp with much more accuracy than you, Muller- so naturally I’m aware of that presence. Alas, it is a large ship. Finding our friend would be a problem. Pity I cannot even broadcast a message across the warp; perhaps I could have enticed her out of hiding.”

Winifred glanced at Muller, who was paying rapt attention. He continued, “Since we cannot be certain she is not a threat to us, I daren’t seek her out. A blink of the girl’s eyes would see us disemboweled, souls cast into the Warp to be devoured in moments. And that would do no one any good.

“I am utterly convinced that we can turn this girl to our advantage. I’m tired of killing, Muller. I blanch at the thought of another world purged. How many human beings have died under my watch? Guessing at the number would likely drive me insane. Save every life you can, Muller, because every human has his own place in the Emperor’s divine plan.” Winifred’s voice was barely a whisper now. “If it was possible, I would never take a human life again. That is why this girl is important; she is above us. Her part in His plan is larger than ours, infinitely so, and I will do whatever it takes to draw the psyker to our side. And if not…”

Muller stood completely still. Remembering himself, Inquisitor Winifred stood, slamming the empty shot glass onto the desk as he pushed his chair back. “Well, we’d better get to the loading bay. The sooner my feet are planted firmly on the ground, the sooner we can find this psyker and be done with it. Get the group ready.” Winifred fastened his scabbard to his side, prised open the door, and stepped out into the corridor with Muller right behind him.

~Originally Posted by Brother Mortes

[Ilairon]

Prophen Cairo, the Steward of Sempri, was in the fine attire of his new station, the station he was born to have. Shining in an eerie light that seemed to come from nowhere in particular, his perfect teeth resembled the fangs of a monster to 'Steve.' The nano-blade puncturing his skin and sending a high-voltage electric pulse through his nerves dulled the image somewhat.

"I find it odd," said Prophen, "that you seem to ignore the pain on the outside, but on the inside I know you feel it. It burns into you, sending impulses up your spine, causing great pain, and yet you, you sit there without even changing your expression. How do you do that?"

"The knowledge that your soul will be rended apart by the daemons you worship comforts me, mon keigh. How do you live in constant damnation, with the shadow of eternal torture a heartbeat away from reality?"

"Why you are feeling good today, a bit bold, even for your usual self...no matter. I get by as we all must. The good looks help, the power is nice too, but mainly I'd say it's the interesting people and good company. You know, our conversations are always a highlight to my day."

"I see..."

"You know, you still haven't told me your real name."

"It is beyond you, all you need know is that I shall be the doom of you."

"Yes, the usual melodrama today I take it..? You are so depressingly boring when you do that." Prophen withdrew the blade from the farseer's leg and turned, walking behind the farseer, before plunging the blade into the cold skin on the farseer's back.

"Now then, where are you from? What craftworld? Tell me about it? Where is it? How many of your kin live there?"

"..."

Prophen stabbed again, this time into one of the prisoner's lungs, sending his breathing temporarily to an unsteady beat and crescendo. His voice was filled with command, "Tell me!"

"..."

"TELL ME, NOW!" The farseer's hands jerked up and his legs pushed against the cold floor, but he could do nothing, and the chains on his arms and legs held him firmly in place.

"If you will not tell me then I will find what I need on my own! I do not need your consent to pillage your mind! If you resist it will only take longer and know this: the more you resist the greater the pain. Not even you, with your powers and your abilities, can resist me - I am more powerful."

"When I am free, when these bonds can no longer hold me, I will kill your master, your Lord Anubis...and when I am done with that I will take great joy in watching you suffer, perhaps I will even send you, as a gift, to our Dark Kin. You have no idea the pain and torture the Eldar are capable of."

"You bastard - you ended that sentence with a preposition." Slowly, meticulously, Prophen Cairo probed the farseer's mind, destroying mental walls with the utmost care as he came to them.

*************************************************************

An hour later Prophen finished his mental inquest. Far from finished, he was learning little in the time he spent in 'Steve's' mind. True he could break the mental defenses, but he was wearing himself out in the process, and the Eldar seemed capable of rebuilding those that were broken.

"We will continue this later, when I return. You are not accompanying us; instead, you will stay on Sempri Secundus, in Palace Prophen, in the wing that was my home for so many years. Be glad; it has the best view of the whole place. I will so miss our conversations - as always, it is a pleasure."

"The pleasure is all yours, I fear."

"I'm stunned - I thought we were friends. I don't know how to react..." His malign sarcasm shined above even his glittering teeth.

"I am sure you will find a way to go on and survive."

"I always do."

I always do.

*************************************************************

Prophen stood on the bridge of the Sempri Prospero, dressed not in his robes of office as the Steward of Sempri, but in the attire of his rank as Captain of the Jackal Guard. Regal robes of blue and gold hid his carapace armor underneath as well as the unactivated refractor field located near his waist. He wore a jackal helm similar to the one Anubis had, albeit smaller. His bolt pistol sat silently in its holster, and his power sword stood still in its scabbard.

He stared at the view-screen which showed a facsimile of the black emptiness of space outside...relative emptiness. Three small shuttle craft were scurrying between the capitol ships; one carried 'Steve' and a guard detail down to Sempri Secundus; one carried supplies to the Sempri Prospero; one carried Icarus Hathor and those chosen by Anubis towards the Sempri Prospero. Besides the shuttles, the capitol ships, and Sempri Secundus and its two moons Alas and Tyndras, there was nothing more than stars.

Anubis sat on his throne set atop the dais in the center of the bridge. Behind him the traitor navigator was within a hexagon of Sempri crystal. Some of the navigators of the Sempri system and others Anubis had conquered accepted their new paymaster; others did not, and they soon found Anubis was not one to suffer dissidents.

Nevertheless, there were a few, a select few, traitor navigators from before the Heresy, who survived in an almost vegetative state, facsimiles of their former selves, sustained through nothing short of the divine or the arcane. Those few disturbed Prophen far more than the recent traitors who had once been loyal, and he was glad to recognize their current navigator as a native of the Sempri system. As Icarus arrived on the bridge, Anubis sat, arms extended in front of him resting on the obsidian armrests of his throne, grinning all the while.

"The second shuttle has arrived. It will be a few minutes before we are in position to enter the warp." Prath's words fell on deaf ears. Anubis was in a final commune with Kait. "Stay safe, the Herald of God has come to spirit you away from your pursuers, those who corrupt and are corrupt. We will meet soon. You will know when I have arrived."

And a few minutes later the Sempri Prospero entered the Empryean.

~Originally Posted by Ilairon

[Ilairon]

Shivering inside the container, Kait heard an announcement ratlle through the ship. It was a cool voice which sounded bored and stiff, but Kait could not make out the voice clearly. It was hushed and blanketed, but she definately heard the name "Winifred" and something about going somewhere. It did not mater much to Kait at the moment. She tossed in the silk, it was still very cold and she was rapidly becoming colder.

Hoping against hope that they would arrive on a planet soon, she closed her eys and rolled up in the silk. Sleep could not find her. Instead, the same voice did. She clutched her Imoerial Eagle as it spoke, praying to the Emperor that it was not a daemon. She began to stop shivering, her body tensed, curled up. The cold was killing her. She knew it, but could not do anything about it. The container became suddenly warmer. She did not know what was happening, until she felt heat radiating from her body. Her powers!

She rolled up, crying softly into the silk.

"Go away, go away."

Tears streaked down her face, and her sobbing echoed down the containment bay. The guards on the other side of the door never heard her, but the walls of the ship did, and they groaned in sorrow.

~Originally Posted by Nightbringer