[luy22]

Prologue

Lord-Inquisitor Wanai stepped off the landing pad of his aquila lander. The harsh, freezing-cold winds of the planet immediately caused his cloak to billow, and he did his best to pull it close to keep warm. The ash wasteland stretched out around him, and he pushed on through it, walking past the hulking figure that was his Gray Knight bodyguard, Brother-captain Alis. He did not like the Knights,
or any of the space marine kind. They were inhuman to him, bred only as weapons. They did not know love, fear, pain, heartbreak, only war. They were not humans to him.

The Inquisitor made his way to the crest of an ash dune, to see the worst sight of his career yet. In the far-off distance, the Hive City of Crakius was in ruin, completely empty and devoid of all life. How did he know? Because the entire populace was before him. Untold billions of human life, crucified across the wasteland as far as the eye could see. Wanai dropped his powersword, staring at the site. Only the worst of monsters could have done such a heretical act. His scout and sniper, Chakor, who was an escaped convict until he came into Wanai's possession, stepped in line beside him. The assassin was clad in a tight bodyglove for warmth, a blue tattered scarf was wrapped around his face, and his longlas was strapped across his back. He put a hand to Wanai's shoulder. "We can mourn later, my lord. There must still be evidence of the perpetrator within the city."

Wanai nodded, picking up his weapon, and the three punishers began their trek across the damned wasteland to the ruined city.

* * *

The Imperial cathedral was empty. Light shimmered in through the stain-glass windows depicting battles of days long-past. Despite the hell that was the outside, the cathedral seemed mostly untouched save for a few overturned pieces of furniture. Wanai sheathed his blade, and rubbed his hands together to warm them up a bit. "I shall stand guard." Said Brother Alis, stepping outside into the rubble-strewn streets. Chakor looked about.

"It's a nice place..." He said, half-sarcastically.

"Indeed." Wanai replied, speaking his first words since disembarking upon the planet. "What is that?" He asked, turning to the preacher's station. He slowly approached it, feeling a sense of darkness, a painful tingling down his spine. He felt the taint of Chaos. The stench was terrible. "What is... this?" He asked, more to himself than to his scout. Upon the stand was a dark-green leather bound tome.

"What is it, my lord?" Chakor asked, pulling his gun from his back. Wanai sensed fear in the man.

"It is just a book, Chakor, you may relax." Chakor eased up, sighing and taking a seat in one of the rows. He might as well have a rest, he was no good at deciphering, only scouting, and he had been ahead of them sense they had entered this cold blasted city. Wanai opened the book, flipping through its ancient pages. He felt the pain in his spine worsen. He saw a black tendril snap out, and wrap around his neck. More reached out and grabbed his body. One entered his mouth. But then he was free. A vision? A nightmare? It was as though nothing had happened. He wiped his forehead.

Sweat. He was sweating. "Blasted..."

"Are you alright, lord?" Chakor asked, standing to his booted feet. Wanai waved him off.

"Yes, you blasted child, I'm... fine..."

"You don't exactly look fine, sir."

"What? What the blazes do you mean by that??" He pulled out his grooming kit from its compartment on his belt. He had a thing about staying clean. He flipped open the mirror to look at himself. His reddish-gray hair was messy, his face was red and soaked with sweat. Deep reddish-green bags hung under his eyes. "What is this? Chakor, what did you do!? WHAT DID YOU TOUCH, BOY!?!?" He felt enraged. He wanted to kill the insolent parasite where he stood.

"Wanai, what the piss? I never touched crap." Wanai was fuming. He punched Chakor in the jaw, sending him down to the stone floor.

"LIAR! You tried to POISON me. With warp magics, no no nononono. Not this time. Haha." He felt tears welling up within his eyes. "No, boy, you must take me for a foo-" He vomited in mid-sentence. This gave time for Chakor to stand up. "BROTHER ALIS. THE CRIMINAL, HE HAS GONE MAD! THE BASTARD!! HE IS TRYING TO KILL ME! WITCH-LOVING MUTANT SCUM!!"

"Wanai, no, stop. What is this!?" Chakor was confused now. Alis did not respond, he had to be patrolling around the neighborhood. The scout returned his gaze to Wanai, who was grinning evilly. His teeth were no longer pearly-white. They were damaged, somewhat rotten, yellow.

"Child. Parasite. I should have let you rot in your cell." He pulled his bolt pistol from its holster, and aimed it at his henchman. "Stupid FOOL."

"Wanai." Chakor's eyes were full of confusion, frustration, sadness and anger. There was a storm of emotions within his skull. What was going on?? "Wanai, why? It was the book!!"

"HA!" Wanai grabbed the tome from the ground, and shot Chakor straight through the skull. The bolt exploded on impact, sending fragments of skull and brain matter in all directions, some blood coating the front of the inquisitor's robes. Wanai dropped the pistol, feeling it too heavy for his cold grip. He scowled, angry. He hugged the tome close, and placed it within his cloak, and left the building, coughing violently.

"Inquisitor?" Alis asked as he came around to the door, "Where is Chakor? What has happened?"

"Chakor... Is gone. He died... I am infected with the disease that had killed him, too. T-take me... To my ship, for I am weak..." He fell to his knees. "Help me... I must... Live..." He fell on his side, and then fell asleep.

[luy22]

=I=

I turned the corner, nearly slipping on some yellow-green scum on the rockrete street. This area of the Athgorn Hive Prime underhive was darker than the rest. I myself had never visited it. I heard the clatter of booted feet behind me. Grunting, I pulled out my autogun. The first of them rounded the corner, a dark-skinned muscular guy with a blue mohawk, and not much else save for a stub pistol. I smashed his face in with the butt of my weapon. The next thug came around, a woman. She screamed a battle cry as I turned her to Athgornian cheese. Holes filled her body, and the soulless corpse fell to the wet floor.

I sighed, getting tired. I've been on the run from these bastards in the Sewer Eel gang for at least six days now. I have no food, ate the last ration- a dead, or maybe half-dead, mutated rodent -last night. I didn't have much ammunition left, though I had constructed a bow and some arrows, as I figured something such as this would happen. I wasn't always a scumrat at the bottom of the bloody Hive, either. I once lived in the middle-class. My father was an arbite, so our living condition was better than that of my peers. We even had a maid. I was given an education, and looked forward to joining up with the Athgornian Hawks, the flight garrison of the local Imperial Navy.

Then, about seven months ago, my father was charged with the murder of the head of one of the noble Houses. He was outright executed, my brother was exiled to the forests outside the Hive, and, well, I was sent here. I would have rather the forests, though they were probably crap, maybe crappier than this. I waited, attempting to hold my breath for maximum silence. A third goon turned the corner, this one sporting a wool longcoat and curved sword. I grabbed his arm, twisting it until I heard the bone snap. The man let out a silent cry, dropping the blade from his numb fist. I kneed him in the ground, sending him to the ground. I took his coat, I liked the way it looked, and it was a lot warmer than the old rotting leather jacket I had found in a dumpster near where I slept.

I took his blade too, I had a feeling I may need it. I sheathed the thing, and peeked 'round the corner, checking for anymore followers. One. His name was Floatsam, and sported an electoo of an eel all the way from his right wrist, across his chest, to the left wrist. He had no weapon. This man was, quite literally, the largest Groxbutt I had ever laid eyes upon. I whispered a silent prayer to Him on Earth, and rolled from cover, opening fire with my autogun.

Click click click click, came the sound. The asshole laughed. He laughed. I tossed my hunk of crap that I once called a faithful weapon onto the hard ground, which I am sure only broke it further, and pulled off my bow and knocked an arrow. His laugh grew louder, and louder as he came closer. The idiot didn't even run. Could he run? No, he was probably too high off of some strange drug they worked up down here. The morons.

I ran back into cover, pulling the arrow back a bit. "Eli.... Ellliiiiii!" Floatsam called out, punching his palm, warming up. "I'm gonna gut you with my bare hands. Gonna snap yer neck an' send yer prettyboy remains back up topside." I jumped back into sight, and fired. The arrow smacked him with a loud whip in his shoulder. He cried out in pain. Another arrow was knocked, and I fired again. This one made its mark, cutting into his throat and sending him gurgling to the corridor's floor. I slung the bow onto my back, grinning at my victory, but as I walked away, the depression wrapped around me. Son of a bitch, I was still down here, feeding off of the crap my peers ate a few days prior. I entered a sewerpipe, crawled a half-hour through Emperor-knows-what, and came out into a street where the buildings were obviously being squashed and tortured by the city above. Girders and metal scraps littered the place. It was still dark, and hellish. I lit my lantern, and continued down the street. That's when a light shone in my face.

I felt something in my neck, and crap went blank.

[luy22]

=II=

I woke up later, due to a bad nightmare. I was walking down a factory hallway, one in the lower habs that my friends and I would always sneak into. I turned a corner to see a friend, and he started laughing. His neck extended and faces grew all over his body, all of which were laughing hysterically. I dunno why, I felt disturbed. Then I realized that I was dreaming, and snapped awake. Instantly I fell off of the bunk I was laying on, and vomited onto the floor. Standing, I tried to collect myself. I was dizzy. Very, very dizzy. It was a dimly-lit room, about 10 feet by ten feet. A low hum surrounded me. There were two doors, one of which was open, revealing a closet. I wiped the spittle from my mouth and walked in. Apparently, the closet doubled as a bathroom. I looked in the mirror, the first time I had seen myself in awhile. My brown hair had grown long and untamed. My facial hair had also grown, unfortunately. I hate facial hair. I slid open a drawer to find a razor and some cream in a long tube, both were standard-issue to Imperial Guardsmen.

After shaving, and washing up my hair a bit, I looked through the closet. My clothes, right now, had all been removed, and maybe, HOPEFULLY, burned to ashes somewhere. Right now I wore some kind of plastic skirt. I looked through the clothes and settled on green pants, a thermo sleeveless shirt, a tweed coat, and black shoes. I wanted to feel as less of Underhive scum as I bloody could.

I walked out, and a man stood before me. "Eli Abate?" He asked. I was speechless.

"Who're you?"

"My name is Tyska." He bowed deeply, "Interrogator Tyska. We have need of your services?" I smirked at the man. His head was shaven, and he wore purple and red robes, and sandals on his feet.

"What services?" I asked. "For who? Why?"

"We know about you. It was in your file. 24 standard years. You were planning on becoming a pilot, drove speeders for a few local businesses, son of an Arbite, who was wrongfully accused. Banished to the underhive of Athgorn Hive. Touching story. Good at survival, very intelligent." Tyska crossed his arms, I stood agape. "It just so happens we require a new scout, and a new pilot. The last scout had died due to some strange alien disease, the same one that had affected Inquisitor Wanai. Don't even ask about the last pilot, and I wouldn't mention him to anyone on board if I were you..."

"On board...?" I asked.

"Yes, you're on a ship." He stroked his long black pointed chin-beard. "A starship, we've been in the warp for two days, you've been out for 48 hours. The year is currently 012.M42, in case you've forgotten." I rose both eyebrows in shock.

"B-but my brother..." I stammered, half-worried, half-mad.

"...is of no concern to the Inquisitor. You see, your father was framed by the man we are hunting. Our next lead is Daern."

"Daern?" I asked. "What's going on?" I was so confused, and still quite dizzy, so I sat down on my bunk, staring down at the puddle I had created as though it were some amazing piece from an art gallery.

"It's another planet. Eli, you're an acolyte now, and we have need of your services. The Emperor has need of your services. I hope you don't disappoint him." There was a long, awkward silence. "Are you hungry? You have lost your lunch, and living in the underhive for a long time..." He chuckled, "I've seen some underhives in my day, but damn. What did you eat down there, boy?" I looked up at him from my frustration.

"Y-yes..." I sighed. "No..."

"Well then! Come, let us go for a walk, perhaps you shall change your mind." He waved me to follow him, and left the room. After a moment of waiting, with a mind full of blank thoughts, I stood and walked after him. I stepped out into a long corridor, rust covered the walls, and there was a bit of grime here and there. A few hooded men walked past us as we continued down the bowels of the craft. "I was born on Talko Prime. The Inquisitor picked me up many years ago. I was a monk, was. I was also pacifist. Oh boy, what fun that was. I miss it, really, I do. I wish I could go back. I'm trying to do my job using as least amount of violence as possible... But some things are harder than others..." He sighed, as we walked into a big mess hall. I honestly did not feel like eating. The concept was well beyond my mind at that moment.

A guardsman walked up to us, at least I thought he was. Short buzzed black hair, a tan military shirt, combat pants. "The kid's up? Great." He smiled. "I was the guy who carried you aboard two days ago. You're a heavy duke."

"This is Kane. He was a blessing from Praetoria." Kane saluted boredly.

"Ever set foot in a rebel death camp, kiddo?" He smiled, "Fought an Ork? Seen swarms of Tyranids devour townships? Planets?"

"I've punched a sewer-maggot once. Those things carry diseases." I said, smiling sheepishly. Kane laughed.

"I like this man. Good, good. Enjoy your stay, I have taters to eat! Be glad you're not in the guard, kid, then you'd be living off of ration-bricks! WOO!" The guardsman grabbed a table with a few short bearded men and they instantly entered deep conversation. One of them looked at me, laughing.

"Who're they?" I asked curiously as I was led over to the trays to grab some real food.

"Homo sapiens rotundus, a pretty rare sight in this day in age, they were thought to be extinct up until a few years ago." I scooped up some mashed potatoes, some chicken and as much fresh vegetables as I could. Veggies were a big delicacy on Athgorn, I was glad to be eating normal food. "They were thought to be devoured by the Tyranids, and evolved on high-gravity worlds, which is why they are so damn short." He laughed. I rose a brow.

"What's a Tyranid? Or an Ork?" I asked, curiously. I have seen mutants and abhumans before, but I was perplexed by the thought of things other than mankind ruling amongst the stars, to think such things was sinful. Tyska leaned in close.

"Boy, if I were you, I'd follow Wanai's orders... Open your mind." He nodded, "One of the first things I was taught at the monastery on Talko Prime. Open your mind. You will learn everything you need to know in due time, and if you are in a hurry, the Inquisitor has a private library aboard. I am sure you can pass the time during the trip learning." He leaned back and ate some strange green noodles with a purple paste substance poured atop it.

After food, we continued down the corridors. "Where is the Inquisitor?" I asked, as polite as I could in this kidnapping situation.

"In due time, acolyte. We head to the docking bay, where we meet the girls."

"Girls?" I smiled.

"Yes." He opened a bulkhead into the docking bay. The bay gate to outside was shut and locked due to warp-travel. Lights brightly shone down. Servitors and serfs ran about, carrying tools and supplies. There was a large ship sitting in the center of the bay. It was green, with two wings on either side folded in, like a bird. It looked similar to the supply crafts of Athgorn.

"What is it?" I asked.

"This is the Blade. It belonged to the Inquisitor's master, and was a parting gift. It's a gun-cutter. Has cabins, a bathroom, thank the Throne." He continued speaking. A girl in a red robe walked out from beneath the vehicle, covered in oil. A small skull drone floated after her, carrying a screwdriver in its tiny metal claw appendage. She waved and walked over.

"Greetings fleshling." She smiled at me. She looked no older than 17 or 18.

"This is Enginseer Melody Freud. She is our local techpriest and looks after the machines of our lord. Now..." He put a hand on my shoulder and pushed me to the door, "We go to see Inquisitor Wanai..." After they left the docking bay, he whispered "She can get really, really irritating, trust me..."