...
Nightfall.
Just as he had after every previous reconnaissance mission, Vick boarded a transport shuttle and returned to the voidship in orbit. As always, Chak gave him nothing more than a fleeting glance before returning to his own tasks.
Vick filtered and compiled the data he had gathered on the Hive World, preparing a report for the Inquisition to help them assess the current state of the Talon System.
Usually, he would redact or veil any information unfavorable to the Talon System, such as remnants of purged heretical cults or xenos artifacts, but this ti, he was uncharacteristically resolute. He even embellished the Hive World's situation slightly in his record.
After finalizing the report, Vick left his quarters and, as per routine, headed toward Chak's sector of the ship.
The voidship's interior was vast, resembling a small hive itself. Generations of crew lived and died aboard such ships, many never having set foot on a planetary surface. Whole families traced their lineage through decks and hab-rings instead of soil and sky. Entire sections of the ship were ecosystems unto themselves, cycles of rust, ritual, and recycled air.
Worship services were held in engine rooms where the heat of the plasma coils was believed to be the breath of the Omnissiah. So sections were so ancient that no one rembered their original function, now repurposed into shrines, marketplaces, or barracks. Food was grown in nutrient vats, and there were rumors that deep in the lower levels, cannibal clans lived in the darkness, preying on the forgotten.
Still, life endured. It always did.
Vick moved through the labyrinthine corridors, past murals of saints etched in rust, past incense burners swung by acolytes with augtic lungs, until he entered a long, dark hallway.
The corridor trembled slightly beneath his boots, and a chanical thrum echoed from the other end.
The sound was familiar. Vick halted and stood in silent anticipation.
From the shadows stepped a tall, imposing figure wrapped in the deep crimson robes of the Adeptus chanicus.
His fra was an uneven fusion of flesh and machine, shaped less by nature than by centuries of surgical intent. A nest of chadendrites unfurled from his back, so ending in precise surgical tools, others in forgotten instrunts whose purpose had long outlived their origin. They moved with a asured, insect-like grace, restless, watchful.
His face, if it could be called that, was hidden beneath a hood of stiff red fabric and braided cabling. Beneath it, a skull-shaped mask of brass and burnished steel flickered with softly pulsing optics and vox-grilles. The arrangent gave the impression of a silent, watchful sentinel rather than a man.
Each step he took landed with a chanical certainty, accompanied by the low hum of servos and a faint, static-laced thrum in the air. It was as if the environnt responded, hesitantly, to his presence. The scent that followed him was strangely specific: burning incense, sterilized tal, and the tang of ozone.
His torso was elongated, almost serpentine, braced with struts and articulated plating. Additional limbs slender, multi-jointed, extended outward, so folded tight, others hovering as if awaiting purpose. In one reinforced hand, he carried a long-handled axe adorned with intricate circuit traces and prayer-etched panels, clearly a power weapon, though built more for function than flourish.
Its head glowed with a subtle halo of energy, marking it as a relic of the Ark chanicus Cawl's Folly, a weapon sanctified in the lava forges beneath Olympus Mons.
"Archmagos." Vick imdiately perford the Cogitation-Sign of Respect. "When did you arrive?"
The figure was none other thanBelisarius Cawl, Archmagos Dominus of the Adeptus chanicus.
Behind him stood an elderly man, previously obscured by Cawl's bulk. Only when he moved to speak to Vick did he step out from behind the Tech-Priest.
Vick didn't recognize him, but had a strong suspicion, this could only be Lord Inquisitor Horst of the Ordo Malleus.
Cawl lood over Vick, his vox-emitter crackling coldly:
"I departed for the Talon System the mont you began your assignnt."
Vick was stunned. He hadn't expected the Archmagos to co in person. More curiously, he had seen no signs of a Cawl's Ark chanicus ship entering the System.
"You were assigned to survey this system," Cawl intoned. "What did you uncover?"
Vick's cybernetic eye flickered. He imdiately transmitted a datastream containing his sanitized report.
Cawl's optics remained fixed on Vick while simultaneously parsing the info-stream now flooding his systems.
Notably, Vick had omitted two major events: the acquisition of Standard Template Construct (STC), and his ti spent accompanying the mysterious governor of Talon. Vick knew the Inquisition would not tolerate even the hint of heresy and if the chanicus ever discovered his doubts about the true nature of the Omnissiah, the consequences would be severe.
"How many STC fragnts did you recover from the Hive World?" Cawl asked, his tone deceptively neutral. The source of this content ɪs NoveIＦire
"None, Archmagos," Vick replied respectfully.
The Archmagos didn't show any visible reaction to the disappointing answer. He simply regarded Vick for a mont before nodding.
"Then it's likely this system possesses no legitimate STC tech. What they do use... is the work of heretics."
Vick didn't respond. He simply stood silently.
Cawl wasn't speaking to him anymore. The Archmagos turned to the silent figure beside him.
"Your thoughts, Inquisitor Horst?"
"I will determine whether or not the people of this system are heretics after my own investigation," Horst replied stoically.
Vick's stomach tightened.
If only Cawl had arrived alone, things might have been manageable. But Inquisitor Horst showing up, and skipping the ongoing plague investigation to co here, ant the Talon System had gained so very dangerous attention.
"While you conduct your inquiries," Cawl said, "may I personally et the Governor of Talon?"
"Why ask ?" Horst replied dryly.
"Then I'll go on my own," Cawl said, striding past him. "If he is a heretic, he'll order the orbital defenses to annihilate my ship the mont I arrive. That will be your evidence."
Horst said nothing as he watched the towering figure leave.
Then he turned to Vick.
"Co. Brief , Tech-Priest."
"Yes, Lord Inquisitor," Vick nodded.
....
Later...
Inquisitor Horst sat in Chak's quarters, reviewing all collected records on the Talon System.
Chak, Rena, and another Inquisitor had already been reassigned to investigate the plague outbreak under Horst's direct orders. None dared defy them.
Vick remained behind, protected by his status in the Cult chanicus. He feared the worst, that the Inquisition would subject him to interrogation, but Horst had neither tortured him nor even shackled him. Instead, he had him sit beside him.
The quarters were dim, lit by a single lun-globe suspended over the table. Its light cast sharp shadows across Horst's weathered face, a face more often glimpsed on dataslates and in whispered cautionary tales than seen in person. His eyes were like twin shards of obsidian, impossibly still, yet burdened with the weight of centuries.
He wore a high-collared coat of midnight blue with the silver ( =][= ) of the Ordo Malleus etched into its breastplate. The rosette shimred with micro-inscribed hexagrammic wards, a symbol feared even among the Imperium's elite. Psychic dampeners were embedded discreetly in his cuffs, though the aura of restrained power still clung to him like a ghost.
"A man who rallied the masses, overthrew a corrupt Governor, and unified the entire System... and a dutiful soldier, at that."
Horst stared at the files on Qin Mo, voice emotionless. Vick couldn't tell if it was praise or condemnation.
But it was neither.
Horst was rely lost in mories, his own.
"Let tell you a story," he said quietly, his voice not unkind. "In my youth, my howorld was ruled by a tyrant. A man so controlling that even marriages required his personal approval, and any who defied him were torn apart by his steel-hounds."
"Cyber-mastiffs with neural override implants," he added darkly. "Once loyal guardians of justice, repurposed into tools of terror."
Vick said nothing. He could sense this wasn't just a parable.
"Then ca a man nad Phaedus Falconet," Horst continued. "A psyker with fire in his soul and strength in his arm. He led a rebellion, tore down the regi, and slew the tyrant. The people called him a savior. Eventually, he was recruited, by the Inquisition."
Horst let out a breath, slow and deliberate. "That man... was ."
Vick blinked, uncertain if he'd heard correctly.
"Yes," Horst said, answering the question before it could be voiced. "IwasPhaedus Falconet."
Vick thougt for a mont and said.
"You and the Governor of Talon... share similarities."
"No," Horst shook his head. "I am nothing like a man who wields unvetted xeno-tech without restraint. The people of Talon knowingly follow an unsanctionedpsyker. That is unacceptable."
"But… if you had shown your psychic powers in your youth, wouldn't the Black Ships have taken you? Or had you executed? Would you have still overthrown the tyrant?" Vick asked, surprised.
Horst considered that.
"Looking back," he said, "I should have gone through proper sanctioning procedures first... then returned to bring him down."
His voice bore no regret, only the grim pragmatism of a man who had lived long under Imperial doctrine.
Vick was speechless.
Horst smiled faintly and shook his head.
"Don't worry. I'm not condemning the Governor just yet... In truth, I find him impressive. If my howorld's Governor had been even one percent as capable, I would've gladly remained a humble citizen."
Vick let out a breath he hadn't realized he was holding. The tension in the room thinned slightly, but Horst's gaze never softened.
"You seem inclined to protect this Governor," Horst caught the shift in deanor and imdiately pressed him.
"No, Inquisitor. Never," Vick said quickly.
"Even if you were, it wouldn't matter." Horst rolled up the parchnt and tucked it into his robe. "A great calamity looms over all mankind. We'll need Talon's strength."
"What? Wait, I—" Vick stamred.
Horst clapped him on the shoulder.
"You know the Governor, don't you? Good. Tomorrow, you're coming with to the Hive World of Talon I. I've got important business to discuss with him."
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