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25.07.906.M38
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Pov of Inquisitor
"Nothing, Inquisitor," the interrogator said, after devoting long hours to breaking the planetary governor of that industrial world.
"How is it possible that an entire tithe fleet was attacked and destroyed, and yet no one knows anything?" I said, reviewing the information gathered so far.
"And the local pirates? Did they confess to anything?" I asked, as the servitors organized the incoming data.
"Nothing. No one would be mad enough to attack a tithe fleet, Lord Inquisitor," my interrogator replied.
"We received the astropaths' distress signal. We arrived two weeks after the event. The fleet was traveling from Corithe to Bellus Prime, collecting the Imperial tithe. It stopped here and transmitted the signal. What we found was the battlefield," I said, reconstructing the sequence.
"Most of the fleet's transport vessels were deliberately driven into a feral world. One of them carried traces of Warp-taint," my psyker added, offering his assessment.
"Yes—but if this had been an attack by traitors, the corruption would have been far more widespread. They would not have wasted the opportunity to plunder the world below. The locals claim that some vessels descended and took prisoners, nothing more. That does not fit the methods of heretics," I replied, recalling the testimonies.
"All nearby planetary governors claim ignorance, Inquisitor. No matter how thoroughly they are questioned. The new governor has already endured all nine levels of interrogation, and we have nothing to show for it. Could this be the work of xenos?" the interrogator asked.
"The descriptions provided by the feral world's inhabitants do not match any known xenos species. They were not Aeldari or Drukhari. Nor Orks—had they been Orks, the planet would already be burning," I concluded.
"We have scoured the region for several light-years, north to south, west to east. No one knows anything about the incident. Only that the tithe vanished. No astropath detected anything unusual. In an instant, a fleet struck the tithe convoy and then disappeared, before any nearby forces could respond," the interrogator said.
"Yes… what troubles me most is how clean the battlefield was. We have been investigating for too long and have no answers. I believe we must request the assistance of other members of the Ordo. This matter exceeds my current operational capacity," I said, staring at the accumulated data without finding a clear pattern.
"Inquisitor… I believe we have detected something," said one of the officers aboard the Inquisition vessel, his eyes fixed on the auspex readings.
"What is it?" I asked.
"I cannot be certain. I have been monitoring the area for an extended period and have detected anomalies—gravitational disturbances. There appears to be a vessel nearby, one that has been following us for some time. These anomalies are not recent. All indications suggest an advanced cloaking system. I cannot detect anything beyond that," the auspex officer explained.
"Bring us closer. We may finally have our answers," I said, stepping toward the auspex as the data unfolded before me.
The ships comprising my investigative escort altered course and accelerated toward the anomaly.
We closed the distance at high speed.
"Yes,it is a vessel… it is attempting to flee. There are signs of thermal emissions. Active engines, Inquisitor," the auspex officer reported.
"Prepare light weaponry. Disable the ship. We require its crew alive for interrogation," I ordered, never taking my eyes off the readings.
"Inquisitor… it is pulling away from us. Whatever it is, its engines outperform ours. We are losing it," the officer said, disbelief creeping into his voice.
"Fire now, or we lose it," I ordered.
Several of our ships' weapons batteries opened fire simultaneously, attempting to lock onto the unseen target.
"Negative. No contact," the officer reported.
"Continue firing," I insisted.
"Inquisitor…" the auspex officer said.
"What?" I demanded, turning toward him.
"The vessel has vanished," he replied, his face tense.
"How? Did it enter the Immaterium?" I asked coldly.
"Impossible. It was far too small for a Warp jump. No warp engine activation detected. It simply… ceased to be there. The signal is gone. We've lost it," he explained.
"Damn it… trace its escape vector. Where was it headed?" I asked.
"If we extrapolate its final trajectory, it was moving north—toward Surtr's Wake, Inquisitor," the officer replied.
"Good. We will see what we can find there. But regardless, we will request reinforcements. More Inquisitors," I said after a brief pause. "This stinks."
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"In the end, our engineers managed to figure out why those damned meteors—which should be nothing more than chunks of space rock—were so tough?," Kurt said as he watched the battle simulations against the Orks, none of them even remotely close to what had been expected. "We literally fired our entire arsenal at them for more than a month and nothing. It didn't matter how much we punished their engines or how badly we damaged their main weapons: the things kept moving, engines intact, retaining full operational capability to defend themselves. One Minotaur-class ship was almost destroyed by a direct volley from their main guns; if its shields hadn't been at maximum, we'd be talking about a cruiser split in half purely by concentrated firepower."
"They're tougher than we expected and, in most cases, completely unpredictable," I said, looking at him. "Did you review the Prometheus Company reports?"
"Of course we did, though Harlan was missing to translate them into something understandable without an advanced university degree," Mason replied while examining the data.
"In short, Mason," I added, "they have no idea how Ork weapons work. They say they function when Orks use them, but the moment they're captured, the systems fall apart into thousands of pieces… though, of course, they phrase it in much more refined language."
"But that makes no sense," Kurt interjected. "How can they build tanks and aircraft using little more than a rock as an engine? That's scientifically impossible."
"According to what my Psi-Ops operatives in the area have reported," I replied, "they detected the presence of certain psychic capabilities among them. It may be possible that, unconsciously, they alter reality itself. It's a theory—but it's the only one that answers the question."
"You're joking," Kazimir said, raising an eyebrow. "After seeing how massive and muscular they are, you're telling me they can bend the laws of physics like some of yours?"
"Not in the same way. This is collective," I clarified. "I think we could try to imitate it among our Ghosts, but keep in mind we're talking about a species with a population in the quintillions or more. The Imperium has several of these plagues running rampant across the galaxy."
"And is it safe to keep them on Spatha I?" Mason asked, visibly uneasy. "Won't they spiral out of control if we leave them there?"
"As long as we keep bombarding them and don't allow them to build anything, they pose no real danger to our forces," I replied calmly. "Besides, I have several of my Ghosts on the planet, making sure no individual with psychic potential capable of causing chaos emerges. With the sensor towers and Asiru missile platforms that were installed, we'll be able to detect any counterattack attempt and shoot down any effort by the Orks to escape the planet."
"Damn… at least they're good target practice, since they're resistant to laser weaponry," Kazimir said, setting aside the data tablet.
"That's right," I replied. "Which reminds me—an update on my infiltrated agents. Vector has reported that he successfully integrated himself into the high society of several planets and has maintained a low profile. Although he ended up married into a wealthy Imperial house, for now he can't move on to the next phase and lure fleets in for capture. Instead, he's been generating economic profits on the planet Vejovium by using one of his subordinates as a scapegoat, presenting him as an economic adviser. That's allowed him to gain local influence," I added, reviewing the report one of the Ghosts assigned to Vejovium III had delivered.
"Married…?" Kurt said. "Are you sure he's not rebelling?"
"The individual he replaced was exactly like that, so he's maintained the role without issue," I replied. "He nearly ruined it when his fiancée attacked him with a sword and he reacted by striking and disarming her, but everything was contained in time. No one can maintain a role perfectly."
"Alright… and the other one?" Kazimir asked.
"Remember," I continued. "His report is simpler. The person he replaced was an extremely successful merchant, so he's focused entirely on trade. He's amassed large fortunes by making accurate predictions of the Imperium's internal market. He's saving up to buy more ships and fill them with crew."
"Looks like our infiltration program is a success," Mason said. "If no one's noticed, we can keep going. How many more Ghosts can we bring into the program?"
"None," I replied, fixing him with a stare. "Zero."
"You can pull some of your men from less glamorous assignments, Hendrik," Kazimir insisted. "This is more important."
"More important?" I replied coldly. "Imperial fleets are investigating our strike against their fleet. I have Ghosts monitoring them, with orders to divert them if they discover anything. Others cover sectors our sensors can't reach. Some are watching the T'au. Many are assigned to internal security duties on our own worlds—because we don't want a repeat of the previous problem… or have you already forgotten that I had to order the deaths of twenty million people because of it?"
Kazimir fell silent.
"Even so," I continued, "it's time to scale back military spending slightly, while keeping research funding at maximum. Prometheus Company is advancing rapidly in its laser weapon development, using Orks as test subjects. Soon we'll have new armaments for our battlecruisers," I said with a faint smile.
"Just give me enough warning," Kurt replied. "I'll have to change a lot depending on the weight and size of their creations."
"They're Harlan's adopted children, Kurt," Kazimir said with a grin. "Those people always find the cheapest and simplest way to improve anything."
"Alright—and how is the annexation of the hive world going?" Mason asked, looking at me after processing the flood of information.
"In progress. My Ghosts have already replaced the T'au in their attempt to dominate the lower classes, and other Ghosts are taking mental control of the upper classes: the Ecclesiarchy, the nobility, and the planetary governor. We're in the phase of eliminating psykers and astropaths, so the heavy work will begin soon: purging rebels, sweeping the planet from top to bottom, injecting nanobots into the population, and beginning the organization of the grand space-colonization plan."
I paused as a message came in over the priority channel.
I activated my terminal's speaker.
"It's done. The planet is ours. We await orders," reported one of the Ghosts assigned to the operation.
"Keep everything under control. A Dominion detachment will be sent soon to take formal possession of the planet," I replied with a faint smile before cutting the transmission.
"Resources well spent," I said. "Get ready. We have a lot to do to manage all those billions… and it's likely there are many more than we have on record. No Imperial planet keeps a real census. There are always more."
I rose and stepped into the void, heading straight for the White Star.
Without delay, a massive military and medical contingent began its deployment. Around fifty battlecruisers secured the star system, blocking any vessel that did not belong there while the takeover was completed.
It didn't take long before I descended to the surface.
Conditions were worse than expected. Although the atmosphere was listed as breathable in the records, my sensors indicated deplorable oxygen quality. The air was saturated with industrial chemicals, and the water was so contaminated it likely killed more than it hydrated. Housing was cramped, and overcrowding had reached absurd levels.
On the upper levels, some wore oxygen masks to breathe air that was only slightly less poisonous. I did not want to imagine what the lower levels were like.
The PDF was disarmed, purged, or integrated into Dominion forces according to operative recommendations. Groups of marines and troopers had already been deployed to clear criminal gangs and potential hidden cults in the lower levels—a direct test of loyalty for the newly "annexed."
The seizure of power was peacefully violent.
The elite were too corrupt to serve even as puppets. Once control was secured, my operatives purged them completely. All nobles and their descendants were executed in an operation that lasted no more than ten minutes. Thousands stopped breathing in that span of time.
Everything was recorded by my Ghosts' cameras: they advanced through the upper levels, eliminating anyone they encountered and hunting down those who tried to hide once they realized something was wrong. The planet was left without an upper class. Even the Ecclesiarchy was purged; its deviations bordered on heresy.
Dominion administrators were dispatched immediately to assume civil control. Clerics from our worlds took over the local Ecclesiarchy. The process of ordering and reorganizing everything began.
While the lower tunnels were being cleared, all planetary industry was halted to stop the pollution that was killing the world. Through the transposition matrix, we sent massive quantities of food. Thousands of Dominion doctors began the mass injection of medical nanobots and tracking devices into the population.
I, along with hundreds of Ghosts, began reading minds.
"Friends, with our official work program you can all contribute to building a better tomorrow.""Work hard, stand proud, we must all make sacrifices for the glory of the Dominion."
Recordings of the late Emperor echoed through the streets. Simple and effective propaganda.
"Remain calm. Everyone will receive food once the process is complete," shouted a Royal Guard marine through his armor's amplifier, addressing an endless line of Imperials.
"Next," I said, observing the next local.
A woman stepped forward with a nervous smile.
"What do you think of the God-Emperor?" I asked, slightly narrowing my eyes as I stared at her.
"The Emperor protects," she replied, saluting with the Imperial aquila.
I read her mind the instant the answer opened her thoughts. The false emperor. The false god. A cultist.
"Thank you. Please move to my left. They will provide you with food and clothing there," I said calmly.
"That's all?" she asked, hesitating.
"Yes. Next."
The woman entered the building. The moment the door closed, I heard the dry crack of her neck snapping.
A man stepped forward. I repeated the question. I read his mind.
"To my right, please," I indicated, pointing him toward the correct line.
He entered the building. There he was injected with nanobots, implanted with a tracking chip, and given food for several months.
"Next."
There was much work to be done. As everywhere in the Dominion, everyone played their part: Mason and Kazimir crushing gangs and mutants, Kurt maintaining the space blockade… and I, reading the minds of the billions who lived on that planet, one by one.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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