...
Morning.
"Lord Chak, you have received a communiqué from Magos Vick of the Adeptus Mechanicus."
"I see."
Interrogator Chak, one of the three current Inquisitorial operatives aboard the vessel, took the sealed data-slate from his servitor and activated it, carefully reading its contents.
It was a routine report: an update from the Mechanicus representative, Magos Vick, regarding his observations on the hive world Talon I.
While none of the information was particularly classified or difficult to obtain, the Inquisition possessed a hundred methods to extract such intelligence, Vick's presence had significantly accelerated the data-gathering process and added a layer of technical certainty the Inquisition's remote probes could not match.
After logging the details into the Inquisition's private ledger, Chak moved to the viewport of his chamber and, as he did every morning, let the black of space settle his thoughts.
Directly ahead, two orbital fortresses loomed. Unlike standard bastion-pattern fortifications, these structures were distinctly circular in design.
Swarming around them were countless black, spherical drones, flitting back and forth in orchestrated patterns. Strange, cephalopod-like mechanical constructs crawled along the fortress hulls, carrying out maintenance and unknown tasks.
Chak furrowed his brow. Why were the people of this system so obsessed with spheres?
The orbital fortresses, the artificial structures in the hive world's upper atmosphere, and many of the smaller orbital platforms and orbital link-nodes, everything adhered to this motif, differing only in scale.
As he pondered, a memory surfaced: Magos Vick had once shared a hypothesis with him, half technical report and half fevered speculative, that these "fortresses" were not merely defensive emplacements but rather components of a larger celestial system. Arrays being assembled to become satellites of a far larger artificial planetoid, perhaps a weaponized bastion on an orbital scale.
Chak had dismissed the idea as absurd. Still, there was an undeniable aesthetic to the sight before him, a sterile, ordered beauty that made his skin tighten.
"Don't you think it's… mesmerizing?" he asked aloud.
"I think it's terrifying," his servitor aide replied bluntly. Its voice was a calm, clipped cadence, the product of both cogitator logic and an aide's programmed caution. "I shudder to imagine if those fortresses were armed and turned against us…"
Chak chuckled, soft and controlled. He was not the kind of Inquisitor who demanded blind obedience from his subordinates. He valued honesty and directness. Above all he despised deception; lies were a toxin in the work the Ordo required.
"Don't be so prejudiced," he said, turning to the chrome-torsoed servitor. "You sound like Rena. Those fanatics see heresy in every shadow. She accused you of heresy once, if I recall correctly."
"My loyalty to you is absolute, my lord," the servitor intoned, immediately dropping to one knee in reflexive obedience.
"I know."
The conversation ended there.
Moments later, a menial entered the chamber, wordlessly setting down a breakfast tray before leaving just as quickly.
Chak grabbed the nutrient paste and the recaf-infused amasec, chewing idly as he continued to observe the fortress construction.
He took particular interest in the "servitor"-controlled labor units. When one of the machines failed to anchor itself properly and began drifting away, Chak would momentarily freeze in tense anticipation. If the machine managed to correct itself and return, he would clench his fist in silent triumph.
It was, in its own way, an entertaining ritual.
As he finished his meal, Chak glanced toward his servitor. "Have you seen Rena since last night?"
"I saw Inquisitor Rena at the hangar bay, my lord," the servitor replied respectfully.
"Don't call her 'Inquisitor.' She's just an Interrogator like me. She hasn't earned the rank yet." Chak said and stood up.
The servitor hesitated before asking, "Where are you going, my lord?"
"To keep an eye on that bitch before she gets us all into trouble."
....
A short while later…
Chak leaned against the doorframe of Interrogator Rena's quarters, listening to her rant about how the entire Talon System was infested with heresy.
Her argument was little more than a repetition of what she had said the previous day: vague suspicions and an accumulation of unease, but no concrete proof. Her paranoia stemmed entirely from her mistrust of the unorthodox technologies found throughout the sector.
Granted, Chak and the other Interrogator had their own concerns about the origin of these devices, but they weren't so quick to label their users as heretics.
The Inquisition was not to indiscriminately burn systems, just as many think, new technology was always welcome, what mattered was provenance and control. The only hard border was when forbidden thresholds were crossed, but for now, those boundaries remained unseen in the Talon System.
After she finished, Chak spoke. "Have you ever considered the possibility that these artifacts are based on recovered STC fragments?"
"Are you joking?" Rena snapped. She shot up from her seat, practically yelling at him. "An unclassified, backwater system without even a designated sub-sector suddenly stumbles upon an array of STC fragments? You think that's normal?!"
Chak remained unfazed by her outburst. He stared at her with an expression of detached amusement, his tone as calm as ever.
"What do you think is more likely?" he asked. "That an undocumented genius in this system independently developed all of this technology? Because that would be even more improbable."
Rena had no response. She considered arguing that the artifacts might be xenos in origin, but even she found that unlikely. Frustrated, she pushed past Chak and stormed out.
Chak watched her leave. His suspicion that she had done something unusual last night now seemed unfounded.
If she had truly been up to something, she wouldn't be acting so predictably. Even so, his instincts nagged at him.
She had successfully orchestrated the abduction of conscripts without anyone realizing it until it was too late. Perhaps she was hiding something again?
He turned back into her quarters that lay open to him. Rena was careless in some respects and precise in others, the paradox common among field operatives and so he felt owed the small liberties her sloppiness offered. He began searching.
After thoroughly inspecting the room, his eyes fell on a small, rhomboid metal box sitting on her desk.
He recognized it instantly, a personal recording device.
Chak picked it up and activated it. A single blank parchment sat inside.
"Hmph. You'd better not be hiding anything," he muttered.
Still unsatisfied, he took five steps back, two to the left, then one more backward, moving in a specific sequence as if enacting a ritual.
Then, he crouched and pried open a floor panel. Inside, he found a micro-audio receiver.
Sliding the device into his ear, he played the recording.
["I cut off your head, heretic!...". "...Witness my glory! My victory! Witness the death of your wicked Governor!"]
Chak scowled. It was just the ravings of a lunatic talking in their sleep.
He was about to remove the receiver when something changed.
A new sound, footsteps. Not just any footsteps. The distinct, deliberate clang of ceramite boots on metal flooring.
Chak's blood ran cold. Someone in power armor had entered Rena's quarters last night.
And unlike standard Astartes plate, this armor was almost silent. That was what truly disturbed him: the gait lacked the familiar pneumatic whine and its gait left an anomalously shallow acoustic footprint.
By the time the recording finished, Chak had already returned to his own chamber.
His servitor greeted him as he entered.
"The Magos is waiting for you."
Chak looked toward his desk.
Indeed, Magos Vick was seated there, his cybernetic neck twisted unnaturally, his remaining organic eye fixated on him.
"Listen to this," Chak said, placing the receiver on the desk.
Vick examined it for a moment. Within seconds, his enhanced auditory systems had extracted the data and played it.
"It is an ordinary recording," Vick stated coldly.
"Ordinary? No," Chak whispered. "Someone transported into Rena's quarters last night. They removed her. You've seen those teleportation systems, high-grade voidship tech. And that wasn't standard power armor."
Vick stared at him, expressionless.
"Destroy it," he commanded.
Chak remained silent.
"Destroy it," Vick repeated, his tone mechanical and unwavering.
After a long pause, Chak sighed and crushed the receiver in his grip, letting the fragments fall onto the desk.
Vick remained motionless.
"This is going to be a problem," Chak warned. "If this ever comes to light, we'll have a very big problem."
His eyes narrowed.
"You'd better be certain about this… Father."
.....
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