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[Rival]

Just a few notes, this is the first draft, but I think word caught all the major grammar issues. I'm planning on making many more chapters in this, but I just wanted to see what you all think. Names are temporary, as is the title ("I"), but I may keep some of them. Realize when you read this that I am planning on it being much longer, so yes, there are loose ends in there for a reason.

 

"I"

 

His footsteps echoed as he walked down the hall past the empty glass cells. He was tall, with medium length hair and a clean face, not looking much older than his mid 30’s. He was wearing jeans, a leather trench coat and hat. His hands were in his coat pockets, his eyes looking at the floor, not ahead. He came to a stop at a cell midway through the hall. Its occupant was the only one currently in the cell block. The man in the cell was huddled in the corner opposite the glass; he looked like he had at one point been rather handsome, though now he was a mess, his hair going every way possible, his face unshaven. He was mumbling something but the glass was soundproof.

 

As the Inquisitor gazed upon the prisoner, he heard steps coming down the metal stairs behind him.

 

“He’s just a shell now.”

 

The Inquisitor turned, and faced the man who had walked down the stairs. He was fat, also wearing a trench coat, which was unbuttoned, unable to contain his girth otherwise, under the coat was a white button up shirt and a pair of Imperial Guard suspenders. His head was bald and shaven, but his face was stern and somber, not jolly. He had a bolt pistol slung at his side.

 

“And you are?” the Inquisitor asked.

 

“Guy Mortuus, an inquisitor, similar to you,” the fat man replied, he walked over beside the cell and look at the wretch. “You have quite a record Inquisitor, what are you up to now? Helping Malleus hunt down things that go bump in the night?”

 

“If only they were that friendly, who are you with? Herectius?”

 

“Yes.”

 

“Well then why have you incarcerated this man? Where did you get him?”

 

“I could just as easily ask how you know he was here. We found him in a raid, he was a member of a cult, we didn’t get much out of him, but we know where to go nonetheless.”

 

“So why is he like this? A shell as you say?”

 

“He was a psyker, but he was unable to withstand the onslaught of the warp. Is that why you are interested in him inquisitor? Have a little mess to clean up?”

 

“Doesn’t concern you.”

 

“I think it does considering he is in my custody.”

 

The two inquisitors turned to face each other.

 

“I don’t care if he is in your custody now, I want him in mine.”

 

“Can’t be done I’m afraid, once we round up the remaining cultists, he is to be executed along with the rest.”

 

“When are you planning to arrest the cult?”

 

“If all is going as planned the Arbites are surrounding their building as we speak, I will go with my troops and it will be over, the cult should be destroyed within a few hours.”

 

“Then I’ll just come get him in a few hours,” the tall inquisitor said as he started walking to the stairs at the end of the hall.

 

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

 

“I have no need to explain myself to a dead man,” the inquisitor said as he disappeared up the stairs, leaving Mortuus staring at the door, speechless.

 

***

 

“Alpha squad ready,” Sergeant Vanius heard over his vox. He turned to Inquisitor Mortuus, “all ready sir.”

 

“Good,” Mortuus replied, “hit them fast and hard sergeant.”

 

“Go! Go! Go!” Vanius shouted over the vox. Around the warehouse Stormtroopers and arbites burst through door and windows, as they charged in they found the building to be nothing more than one big room. The cultists in the middle jolted around, none tried to flee, the troopers pouncing on them. As they were carried away, they kept looking back at the pit in the middle of the room.

 

Several stormtroopers were staring into the pit, it was deep, with a faint purple light coming out of it.

 

“Away from there!” Mortuus shouted, rushing over to the pit. “Back! Get back!”

 

As he was pushing his men away, he began hearing the whispers, he turned and looked into the pit.

 

“Are you ok, inquisitor?” a trooper asked.

 

“Away!” he shouted, not moving his gaze from the pit. The troopers looked on as the light grew brighter, and grew closer. The inquisitor was trapped, he had been much too weak for the daemon, he almost gave himself willingly even.

 

Some troopers tried to run, but most just stared, as daemons burst from the pit, consuming the men and destroying the building.

 

***

 

The priest’s robes dragged as he walked down the corridor. His head was shaved, but his beard was over a foot long. He clasped his hands in front of him as he walked, his face was somber, but didn’t give much away, his eyes slightly squinted. He reached the end of the corridor and pressed the control panel beside the door; as it parted and he walked in, he noticed the bridge was particularly busy, the three pilot servitors scrambling; but the man in the command chair was staring ahead , apparently oblivious to the action around him. His trench coat was unbuttoned now, his leather hat on his left knee, his left elbow resting on it.

 

“The raid has taken place, Inquisitor,” the priest said, not sure if the man in the chair would reply.

 

“I know,” the Inquisitor said.

 

“Want us to head to the prison?”

 

“No, the situation has changed, Marcus is no longer important, prepare my armour and the strike teams, we head planet side once the guard tells us where the assembly area is.”

 

“Abandoning an apprentice that easily, Inquisitor?”

 

The inquisitor looked down to a computer pad on the right arm of his chair, “He’s dead, mentally at least, they just weren’t merciful enough to take his body,” he paused, “Hurry with the armour, and see if there are any Knights in the area.”

 

“Very good, sir.”

 

The priest walked out the door and back down the corridor, he took a right turn, then stopped at a door, opened it, and shouted various commands to the servitors. He then continued down the hall to another door, where he entered and headed to the large space map on a table in the middle of the room. The servitor in the room was busy with the vox receiver on the right wall.

 

The priest looked down at the table, it had a map of the local sector, and models representing navy fleets, planets, xenos fleets, the locations of rogue traders that the inquisitor knew of, and even a few Astartes ships. As he gazed across the table, the thing he was looking for caught his eye, a model strike cruiser with the number 666 on top. As he looked up to walk to the vox, the servitor walked over to update the position of a model. The priest ordered the servitor to contact the strike cruiser, and walked out the room.

 

“The miracle of spy networks,” he muttered as he walked down the corridor back to the bridge. He shuffled his feet heading down the corridor, the situation wasn’t all that bad considering what he had seen before. He arrived at the bridge and opened the door, the Inquisitor was still staring ahead, but his hat was on, as if he wanted to go somewhere, but was still occupied with other thoughts.

 

“Is it done?” the inquisitor suddenly barked, startling the priest though his face didn’t show it.

 

“Yes, sir.”

 

“Very well,” the inquisitor got up, “tell me once the Knights have responded.”

 

“Very good, sir,” the priest said. As he left the room he heard the Inquisitor shouting various commands to the servitors.

 

***

 

Marcus had been his apprentice for years, helping the inquisitor purge three worlds of daemonic infestation and slaying many heretics and aliens. Although Marcus was close to the inquisitor, he had not been the first, and was thought of more as a powerful ally than a friend. The Inquisitor was stirred from his thoughts as the Valkyrie door opened, revealing a large guard encampment. He stepped out, scanned the scene, and then noticed a man walking towards him.

 

The man was obviously an officer, having several ornamental pieces on his uniform. He had the standard guard shave, and had an officer’s cap tucked under his left arm.

 

“Your armour sticks out like a sore thumb here, inquisitor, follow me,” the officer said.

 

The inquisitor followed the officer through the camp. All around him there were men doing various activities, some were sitting around campfires eating and talking, some were smoking, some were fiddling with their weapons, but no matter what they were doing they all seem preoccupied. The procession came to a stop at a tent in the middle of the camp. The officer parted the flap.

 

“The general is inside, inquisitor,” the officer said.

 

The Inquisitor motioned for his retinue to wait, then proceeded inside. In the tent was a large table with a map on it, and an imperial officer looking at a clip board. The officer’s jacket was off, hanging on a chair to the side of the room, he had a shoulder harness with a pistol in it, and a rather ornate sword hung at his side.

 

“Inquisitor Valens Fiera, Ordo Malleus, thank you for coming,” the officer said.

 

“How did you discover my name?” Valens asked, shaken, but not letting it show.

 

“We have our own spies too, even if they aren’t as good as yours.”

 

“I’ll need to remember that, but aren’t you fearful of the Inquisition? You now know of one inquisitor, and apparently you can find out about more, we won’t let this go unnoticed.”

 

The officer let out a quite laugh, “You think I don’t know how this works? I know full well that once you and your knights come and banish the daemons, you leave and all us guardsmen and civilians die several hours later to a ‘severe cold’.”

 

“How do you know this?”

 

“Because I was one of Mortuus’s contacts inside the guard and let’s just say he wasn’t good at keeping secrets.”

Valens was hardly surprised that Mortuus had told secrets, but he was surprised at how freely the general admitted it. He should have had one of the commissars execute the man on the spot, but he knew what the general said was true, executing him would have been merciful in a way.

 

“The daemons fled to the mountain range south of the city, we’ve dug in, but our scouts have reported that several groups of renegade marines have joined them. We have only one armoured company, though several of our infantry companies are…”

Valens stopped paying attention, in the end it would be him and the Grey Knights who would be the deciding factor, but he was troubled that he didn’t know of the renegades. It made sense that he didn’t sense their arrival, but he should have been informed from one of his contacts, he had invested quite a lot in making sure he would know what happened.

 

“…contacted several Astartes chapters, but they have not yet…”

 

The inquisitor suddenly interrupted, “How did the renegades get here?”

 

“Uh, well, uh, they shot some drop pods before the Navy could intercept them and then the ship fled the scene.”

 

Without saying another word Valens left the tent, his cape swaying behind him. The General was stunned, starring at the exit, then looking around the room, trying to figure out what happened.

 

The Inquisitor stormed across the camp, guardsmen just moved out of the way and stared, the enormous bulk of his power armour dwarfing all of the men. He spotted a group of commissars and headed towards them.

 

“Where is Janus?” Valens asked the commissars. They were surprised, not frightened, by the sudden appearance of the inquisitor. One of them pointed at a nearby tent.

 

The inquisitor stormed into the tent and paused as he got in. The commissar inside was looking down at a table, fixing some sort of food. He glanced over his shoulder and then looked back at his meal.

 

“I see you went with the golden armour, I like it, much less drab than the black,” the commissar said as he grabbed a small packet of salt.

 

The inquisitor walked up behind the commissar, as the commissar turned around to see what was happening, Valens grabbed him by the neck and lifted him off the ground. The two men looked eye to eye. The commissar had obviously seen a lot of combat, his left eye was just a scar, and his bald head showed signs of burns.

 

“You failed me, Janus,” Valens said.

 

Janus stared at the inquisitor, his face was stern, and showed no fear. He knew he had played his cards wrong.

 

“No final words?” the inquisitor said.

 

Janus remained silent.

 

“Fine,” Valens said. He threw the commissar out of the tent, and then proceeded out the tent flap.

 

Janus was lying with his feet towards the tent, and was trying to rise up when Valens put his massive boot on his chest, pushing him to the ground.

 

“Commissars, one of your bolt pistols please,” the inquisitor shouted to the commissars he had just inquired to.

 

The commissars just sat and looked at him for a moment, some of them stopping in the middle of a spoon full of soup or smoking a cig. It took a second to register with them, then one of them proceeded over to the inquisitor and presented his sidearm.

 

“Here, sir,” the commissar said, then stepped away.

 

By this point quite a few other officers and enlisted men had gathered around. As Valens checked the chamber for a round, he gazed and saw all the faces looking at him.

 

“This, is what happens to those who fail me,” he said, knowing that the men around him would never really have the chance to prove themselves. In one fluid motion, Valens pointed the pistol at the commissar’s head, and pulled the trigger.

 

The commissar’s head was blown away, just leaving some blood still spurting out of the carotid artery in his neck. The faces of the officers and men remained emotionless, their eyes shifting from the body to the inquisitor.

 

“Ok, return to your duties,” one of the commissars started shouting, the others joining in with various other commands.

 

As the majority of the commissars moved the men along, three of them came up to the inquisitor, whose golden armour was now covered with spots of blood.

 

“We’ll clean this up,” one of the commissars said.

 

Valens just turned around and walked back through the camp, the servos in his armour whirring and his cape blowing in the wind.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

I'd really like to read this, but I think I may wait until you make it a bit more readable, and put a few gaps in-between paragraphs.

[Rival]

Well, B&C doesn't keep indentation, but with the spaces I think its more readable.

[Mr.(Space)Marine]

Thanks for putting in the spaces, its much easier to read now.

 

Well I thought it was very good. It shows how Inquisitors itneract with each other and other organisations, which I have not seen before (I haven't actually read any of the Inquisitor novels from black library yet). I am looking forward to the rest, if you plan on writing more. (I'm hoping we'll get to see some grey knights banishing some daemons back to the warp!)

[13skullz]

very nice well written. write more :D !!!