---
"Lord Cassian, we're approaching the command center; however, enemy resistance is stiffening. We should take it in five," the Lieutenant's voice came over Cassian's vox caster.
Shortly after the strike team entered the headquarters, command has come through for them and located a loyal Arbiter who has served in the building before being returned to the capital. The Arbiter has been able to give them a rough location of their objectives the command center and the detention cells. After that, they has separated. Pickos has gone with Whent's second squad to neutralize the building's nerve center, while the rest has headed toward the dungeon.
"Good. Carry on," Cassian answered.
A solid clang has sounded a few seconds later an stormtrooper wielding a sword has kicked the door open.
"Path's open my lord," the trooper has declared, sheathing his blade and pulling out his lasgun.
"Lead the way," Commander Compel Bast said, waving at the company.
The troopers gave a nod, and vanished one after another down the corridor.
After mowing down a squad of traitors, they were carefully descending through a tight stairwell, which was barely able to take the weight of all of them combined. The comparatively flimsy metal it was made of has groaned with every step they took, yet it has held.
It had been a good thing that they had descended two at a time, with the rest providing cover or simply staying out of the way, because it was doubtful the structure would have held Cassian too, much less a third person. The wait has been nerve wracking as well this place has ambush practically written all over it. Even crazed cultists would have recognized it as a prime killing ground… yet no enemy has materialized.
No mines or improvised explosives. No traps.
That did not bode well at all. At best, they were going to find empty cells or just corpses, because it was unlikely that the traitors has been dumb enough to leave a live Inquisitor, no matter their condition, for them to find.
Still, they has reached the bottom without incident if one didn't count the fact that the Warp has simply cut off just behind the door that now faced them. Even with Cassian 's psychic senses clamped shut, he could feel a void, an emptiness that made him feel sick.
"We just breached the CP. Casualties acceptable," Pickos has announced while the they were preparing to cut through the door.
"Outstanding, Lieutenant. Any idea if you can patch into building security?" Bast has asked.
"One of the priest is working on it."
"I can confirm," Farron said. "The door should be opened in a few seconds."
"That's the first good news I've has since arriving here."
"So we must be ready for a really bad one," the magos added.
Little has they known what was happening a few hundred kilometers away, and it has been pretty fucking bad.
The door has quietly retracted into the floor, revealing an empty guard station.
"Any sight of resistance?" Cassian asked.
Bast had to order the same information before they got an answer. There has still been two short platoons in the building, near the command center, though they has been busy making themselves scarce. As far as the cameras and sensors were concerned, there were just a handful of prisoners still alive down there with them.
An icy ball has formed in the pit of Cassian's stomach. To say that he has a bad feeling would have been a charming understatement.
The troopers led the way and they descended one more level until they reached the cells themselves.
"Sir, you may want to see this," Whent, who led the way, said.
His squad has taken a step to the side, allowing the rest to pass. Whent used his gun to point at a cell to the right.
"A present for the Corpse Emperor's servants!" That had been written with drying blood on the cell's door.
"Sweep for explosives and then carefully open the door," Bast ordered. "Auxiliary troops better take cover out of the cell block."
"It's clear!" Bast shouted a minute later, in a clearly affronted voice.
Obviously, he too has found the lack of traps and resistance insulting or just a bad omen for what was to come.
Yet another great opportunity to screw them over was wasted. What the fuck was going on here?!
"You better come here, now, Cassian," the commander spoke, formally.
Fuck. Cassian sprinted down the corridor. That wasn't going to be good. Like, at all.
Damn right it wasn't. Halfway there, he could already smell the rot and stench of body fluids. The Marines, gathered around the cell door, made way for him without prompting this time.
The first thing Cassian saw was Whent, who was actually standing at attention just inside the cell. Next to him, Bast was on one knee,.... Cassian 's mind refused to comprehend what exactly he was seeing.
For a moment, it looked like a pile of bloody rags used to mop up some awful mess. He blinked and shook his head.
It… that has once been a man.
Now it was a head with most of the flesh flayed, attached to what might have once been a human torso.
"Whaa… ooo…szooo...loog…" the mutilated corpse somehow wheezed.
Fuck me with a Baneblade! The poor fucking bastard was somehow still alive. Cassian gave the figure a closer look something he immediately regretted. Most of the flesh was gone, or black and rotting with infection. The only thing still keeping him alive were the bionic implants visible in his torso.
"Lord Inquisitor," Cassian stated. It was barely recognizable, but if he squinted just right, what was left of the face looked like the picture he has received from Admiral Spire.
A single remaining, bloodshot eye turned in his vague direction. Apparently, Inquisitor has enough of his mind left to recognize them as his own faction. That, and to chide them for not getting here earlier.
Tough bastard. If Cassian had been through the same and somehow still alive, he knew he would have been driven insane by now.
"I'm Adept Cassian from Magos Biologis," he spoke aloud, hoping the Inquisitor could hear and understand him.
"Yooo… late…" Inquisitor whispered through what was left of his lips.
"I know," Cassian said. What else could he say?
"Mmm, people?" the broken man rasped.
Cassian shook his head.
Inquisitor closed his eye and went still for a few moments. Cassian honestly thought he has passed into the Emperor's light, but then he shook with a wet cough and looked back up at him.
"Chaoss… rituall…. The peninsual…" The voice was barely a whisper, weakening with every word.
"We know," Bast spoke quietly. "Our strike cruiser will be taking out the whole area shortly."
"Goo…" Inquisitor gave a sigh that Cassian chose to interpret as one of relief.
"Sir, the admiral spire deployed here and the Imperial Guard and pdf here have conflicting orders. There were already skirmishes between the two forces. We need higher authority to stop them for further straining tensions," Cassian said in a loud, clear voice.
Fuck it. The last thing the dying man needed was to deal with this shit. The whole situation made Cassian furious.
Inquisitor's eye stared at him, as if asking what the fuck he was supposed to do about it. Cassian averted his gaze.
"Rrrr… rozz…" The Inquisitor's whisper was barely audible.
What was that?
A stormtrooper looked around. A moment later, he knelt next to a pile of offal in the corner and pulled out a blood and gore covered object. He found some kind of rag and hastily cleaned it up before presenting it to Inquisitor.
The Inquisitor stared at his rosary for a long moment. His mutilated face twisted in something that should have been a smile, but in fact was a vision from hell itself.
A burst of what sounded like binary came from his implants, and the rosary in stormtrooper's hand glowed with a soft golden light.
Inquisitor's eye turned to Cassian .
"Veeel…" Inquisitor wheezed. "Aaacc… iiin… In… to… Veeel…" Somehow, he managed to give a firm nod. "Buuun the… eeeretec… prrrge… xeno…" he rasped for the last time. His eye closed, and Inquisitor lay still.
Cassian just watched the mutilated corpse. He hasn't known the man. hasn't even known of him just that he was an Inquisitor, and one of the toughest bastards Cassian was ever likely to meet. Yet… seeing him die here like that doing his duty with his dying breath… it changed something.
It made him respect him.
It gave him purpose.
Cassian straightened up and made the Aquila with his hands before giving a deep, respectful bow to the dead Inquisitor.
"Brother Sergeant Whent, check the rest of the cells. See if there's anyone still alive in here," he spoke in a voice he didn't recognize.
There was no doubt. No uncertainty. Just conviction he wasn't going to fail the Inquisitor. He was going to fulfill his last will and cleanse this world of the traitors and xenos polluting it. At least try for that man, after all both their goals coincided for now.
He could do nothing less.
"You heard him," Bast snapped, letting cold fury lace his voice.
Whent went rigid, then saluted and moved out.
The commander turned his attention to Cassian and offered him the rosary.
Cassian carefully closed his gloved hand around it.
"Things like these…" Bast whispered. "They either make or break a man. I have high expectations of you, Lord Interrogator."
Cassian sighed at that as he climbed imperial ranks faster than some people do in centuries. He really did make the right decision to come here.
—-
"Santos, incendiary grenade. I won't have Inquisitor's body profaned even further," Cassian ordered his bodyguard as he left the cell.
"Sir," the Stormtrooper said quietly, and followed the order once Bast has walked out. The soldier threw the grenade in and sealed the door, turning the cell into a crematorium.
"We have a live one here," Faevilith announced aloud in an uneasy voice.
Cassian frowned. Whatever could give his girlfriend pause couldn't be good for anyone. He gripped the handle of his sword and walked toward the Faevilith. She was standing next to a cell at the far end of the corridor. Her daggers was pointed into its open door, though she hadn't taken action. Whent and another trooper interrupted their search and moved in to cover their comrades.
Cassian could hear the Stormtroopers taking position behind him, and Bast' heavy footsteps following.
What new horror awaited them, he wondered.
He walked past a trooper who has taken position to the left of the door and carefully glanced inside. He could see two figures in the twilight. One was a woman her dead white eyes were staring sightlessly at the door. Her face was a frozen grimace, stretched by gray, taut skin. Another, much smaller figure was clutching the dead woman like a lifeline. A pair of empty green eyes stared through them, seeing only the Emperor knew what. The kid was skin and bones wrapped in a dirty dress that might have been red once upon a time. She has apparently been left to starve to death with the corpse of her young mother or older sister.
Still, as fucked up as that was, it didn't explain why Faevilith was uneasy. Undoubtedly, she has seen worse like what has been done to Inquisitor and his people.
Faevilith stopped behind Cassian and looked over his head, then hissed.
"Can someone enlighten me? Is she possessed or something?" Cassian asked warily. His hand clutched the hilt of his chainsword and he prepared for action.
"Can't you feel it?!" Faevilith sounded incredulous.
What the hell? Now that Cassian thought about it… yeah, there was no trace of the Warp that he could sense. Like it has never been there. It was actually… soothing. He said so aloud, too.
"She's a Pariah," Faevelith hissed again using telepathy to inform him.
That gave Cassian pause. As a psyker, her very presence should be screaming kill me now, getting worse the closer he got. Instead, there was nothing.
"Are you sure?" he frowned. "I feel nothing that suggests she's a Pariah or a blank, though I haven't been close to one before."
"Very sure," Faevelith but her lips and took a step back. Cassian was pretty sure he heard a sigh of relief from her.
"That's weird," Cassian shrugged. "But potentially useful with Chaos and Eldar around."
"You want to use her?" Faevelith asked.
"Well, I'm certainly not leaving her here since she's not possessed or otherwise corrupted. Though a medical scan for nasty surprises will be in order, I think. You're sure she's not a daemonhost or something?"
"Very. I've been close to blanks and a Pariah before. The feeling's unmistakable. How in the Emperor's name can you stand being so close to her? I never knew that about you." Faevelith exclaimed.
"No idea. I'm weird like that," Cassian shrugged. "Hi there." He smiled and waved at the kid, who didn't react. Damn it, he thought. I'm not a therapist or something. The little training he'd gotten for similar situations in his previous life would probably be counterproductive here.
"Santos. A ration bar and canteen. Call Pickos to have a female trooper waiting for us at the entrance our new friend might react better to a woman."
Trying to get the girl out of her funk with food and water didn't work. She simply wasn't present and didn't react even when Cassian carefully pulled the corpse of her relative from her hands and picked her up.
Totally catatonic, or whatever the scientific term was.
Faevilith just put her arms in his shoulders despite her discomfort to soothe him. Cassian nodded his thanks to her as they stepped out, with a pariah rescued.
—
Word Count: 2329
Hey, if you're enjoying the ride, do me a solid follow, review, and favourite this story. It keeps the fire burning on my end and makes sure it doesn't get buried under a mountain of other fics.
Thanks for reading and if you're hungry for more, check out my patreon.
patreon.com/Kratos5627