Unlike the local gangs who were plotting, Noah was sitting opposite the captured power structure of the planet. How do you obtain information about a civilization? Simple: you capture the people who run it.
Over the past few days, while scavenging, Noah had rounded up the entire planetary leadership: the Planetary Governor, his Minister, the Industrial and Security Governors, the Planetary General, the Lord General of the Astra Militarum, the head of the Adeptus Arbites, and the head of the Ecclesiarchy. They were now his sole source for understanding this civilization.
Despite his urgency, Noah had refrained from using psionics to extract their minds. He was a Federation citizen, and even far from home, he would uphold the responsibility not to commit unlawful acts against fellow humans.
His temporary residence was a model of standardized Federation accommodation. For security and to maintain appearances, he had constructed a civilian-grade mechanical legion of 400 bots. Though built from secondary-grade alloy, even these weakened, human-skinned combat automatons possessed capabilities far beyond the wildest comprehension of this civilization. Their presence alone was sufficient insurance, capable of dealing with any non-direct military confrontation.
Noah meditated, keeping an eye on the captives who lay unconscious. They had been injected with anesthetic by his mechanical soldiers and would not wake for at least another four hours. Rather than continuing to bother with the scavengers, Noah waited, eager to determine the route home from the information these rulers possessed.
Four hours later, Planetary Governor Grover Kane regained consciousness. The first thing he registered was the air—cleaner and more refreshing than the air in his own palace. This profound comfort immediately sharpened his alertness.
He found himself strapped to an ergonomic alloy chair, facing a holographic screen projecting real-time hive data: gene pollution rates, warp intrusion indices, gang distribution heat maps. Sitting before it, meditating, was Noah. A psyker, he immediately thought, but the room's dazzling neatness and perfect atmospheric controls, utterly devoid of the chaotic eight-pointed star or any taint of heresy, convinced him this was no cultist.
He noticed his colleagues slowly waking up—the head of the Adeptus Arbites straining against his bonds, the Planetary General warily eyeing the mechanical soldiers in the corner. Noah had deliberately given his legion human skin to avoid panic. But it wasn't the skin that drew the General's eye; it was the sleek power armor and weapons, clearly equipment of immense, unknown power.
"Are you all awake?" Noah's gentle voice instantly tightened the nerves of every captive. Governor Kane suppressed his panic. "Who are you, sir? Where is this place?"
Noah replied in a calm, almost friendly tone. "Before asking others questions, shouldn't you all introduce yourselves? I've already figured out your identities, but a proper introduction is the courteous start to our communication."
The high-ranking Imperial officials felt a profound sense of humiliation, captured and displayed like livestock. The Inquisitor and the head of the Adeptus Arbites, symbols of Imperial authority, felt the slap to their very being.
Yet, as Imperial nobles, they composed themselves quickly. They knew their disappearance would plunge the planet into chaos, a disaster with the Orks watching like tigers.
Their only duty was to ensure their safety and then, somehow, warn the wider Imperium about this powerful, illegal psyker—a notion they instantly dismissed upon seeing that the chief of the Arbites was already a prisoner. The Adeptus Arbites wasn't even enough.