Path to Ilithyia - Wokin

[JoelMcKickass]

I sit across from Messenger, his legs crossed, his cheeks already flushed with amasec. Behind him, notes are pinned against his wall. Astrpathic message wafers, hand written letters with elaborate cursive writing mixed with blocky standard servitor script, a picture of a graffitied wall in an evident slum, taken and sent to him. All told, there's about a hundred messages addressed to my friend and mentor, all telling him the same thing, how, and when he would die.

It's good to see him, and his impending death (something which is already being called the Gabriel Anomaly, something i had the misfortune of being "interviewed" for) seems to have invigorated him, as though he's found a secret that given him a sense of vitality and invincibility. It's a difference that has been long in the coming. To put it blunty, Inquisitor Gabriel Messenger is a malcontent. He's a drinker, a gambler, a rouge, and much to the frustration of many of our contemporaries, he's damnably good at his job.

Right now his job consists of checking over plant samples. I've come to visit him in a reply to an invitation he sent me, and to discuss my newest project. The news i had received is interesting to say the least, yet i'd come to here my friends side of it. The fact it's over a bottle of his finest amasec is just icing on the cake.

"You see, the problem is that this planet, this whole planet, is essentially just a single sea, with massive trees. All the fauna are based around the fact that its one big ocean, and the flora, the flora is the ground we're standing on. The ocean is about a kilometre deep on average, and the trees have adapted to grow despite these depths. But something's changed. Originally we thought it was a Tyranid-base growth, i mean, just to look at these growths will show you the similarities, but it's not that. We even thought it could have been Orkine, maybe some mutation in their growth spore that reacted with this atmosphere, something like that. But again, it's nothing."

He showed me various papers and results whilst he spoke. I know he hated this kind of work, yet he was nothing if not diligent. And talkative, though i feel that was the amasec more than him.

"What do you suppose it is then?" The results mean nothing to me, not without going over the groundwork first, and having a proper look at it, though i could see the growth he was talking about.

"Honestly? Recidivism. That's why i asked you here. My results are showing nothing for any of the typical xenos, and the results i have found don't explain how it got here. So i feel this is someone trying to change the way things are, some faction that just don't like the status quo."

Looking at the results, i can't help but agree. There are a number of species who's own fauna would react in such a nutrient rich environment, and would grow massively in the short amount of time. But it's just not possible for that to have happened by accident. Which means someone is doing this on purpose, and he's asked me here to find out whom, which unfortunately is just not possible.

"That does seem likely, though the faction with the greatest gain isn't on this planet. Freya here is one of the sub-sectors greatest water suppliers, and it would appear that this supply has started to drop since the start of these growths. The other two suppliers who have taken up the slack are Mandan, unlikely due to the fact that it's people can barely sail amongst it's own seas and are having more fun hacking limbs off of each other than they would trying to turn a profit, Devan, an industrialised ice planet who hasn't gained as much as Mandan, yet has almost doubled it own profits."

I'd done my homework on this subject. In all honesty, i'd followed his case quite closely, though i know he was only using me to voice his own ideas. Mihail had trained us both to think along the same lines, so i don't need to see his mile to guess his answer.

"Philomako is on his way to Devan with Batiste as we speak, it's a two week journey there an back, with time for him to look into some local businesses. He's already got a cover in place, he'll be working along the ice docks for the first day, then he'll do what he does best".

I sit back. Philomako is one of the best undercover operatives i've ever met. He was a pickpocket turned soldier when a civil war tore his own planet apart. He was in charge of fifty at an age where most boys are starting to become interested in girls. The fact he's been trained by various Inquisitorial agents since he was 16 has only made him more dangerous. A psychopath held in check by a fierce self-control. I don't understand what attracts Messenger to these kinds. He won his "bodyguard" in a card game, and a year later the same man took Messenger's arm. The same man is drinking with Jago and Reed a few buildings away.


"So little brother, what's on your mind?" Mihail had raised us like brothers, it was a sign of how close we've become since his death that we often refer to each other as though we are. We couldn't be more different, him stocky and broad, sixty years but looking no more than forty, myself, fair and pale, one half of my face a bionic, my hair and face clean shaven except for the single traditional strip that is never to be cut (I may have been raised amongst numerous planets of the Imperium, but i've kept my heritage), his a miltary style crew-cut, with a ridiculous goatee gracing his chin.

I can't hide it from him. It goes against everything Mihail taught us. Stay away from the factions, don't make waves. "Make them hate you for what you've done, not what you believe". But i can't help it. I hope he'll forgive me. I know he'll try to persuade me not to, but i must go, i need to see this and find out what it really is.

"Ilithyia. I hope it's true, but i want to see it before i declare myself either way."

The look in his eyes has made me glad that his pet sociopath is away.