Other Fan Fiction ❯ Extremus Malleus ❯ Chapter the first ( Chapter 1 )

Prologue

Cold, recycled air wafted through the main building of the long abandoned research station. There was not much left worth caring about on Spectus Minorus, except for a collection of insignificant towns, a small city and this research station.

A dark cloaked figure stepped quietly as he walked through the large complex, feeling the solid concrete floor beneath his boots. His senses were alert, despite the bitter cold that surrounded the planet, and this research station in particular. He literally waited for the dangers that would surely come. He had followed this particular Chaos sorcerer for three years and four months until at last his pursuit led the inquisitor - for that's what the man was - to Spectus Minorus, an insignificant planet in an insignificant system which had always existed in the shadow of the otherwise insignificant Spectus Primus. The man stopped. His right hand flashed inside his coat, producing from within an elegant long pattern las-pistol. He took a quick aim at the second level gangway to his right, then relaxed when he saw that it was his companion, Kyle Vertancore. Kyle was built solidly, the same height as the inquisitor. He carried a combat shotgun in his hands, and a stubber was holstered at his thigh. A bandolier of shotgun shells was strapped across his broad chest.

"Anything up there?" the inquisitor called out. Steam billowed from his mouth.

"No, there's nothing here Marcus. I hate to say this, but I think we may have come in v…" Kyle's reply was cut short as a hail of autogun shots peppered the area around the former Arbites officer. He hit the deck hard, and rolled into cover and out of sight.

Marcus Weissen's left hand reached quickly into his coat and came back out holding a las-pistol identical to the one he already held. Soon enough, his own quarry of enemies appeared around a corner, two with autoguns and four with a ragtag combination of ice tools which sufficed as weapons. With almost bloodthirsty glee, the inquisitor opened fire with both pistols.

Conduray Quinn Marcus thought, you cannot and will not hide behind your puppets forever. I will make sure of that.

One

Being a member of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition, my various pursuits lead me to all sorts of different planets and systems. Of them all, I dislike ice worlds the most. Be it fate or some other factor, my pursuit of the heretic sorcerer Conduray Quinn led me to the Spectus system, on the brink of the Senna sub sector. To be exact, my pursuit led me to Spectus Minorus. An ice world.

It was the middle of Cold-Warm. Temperatures averaged at approximately minus thirty degrees centigrade, a typically warm day. The people of this frozen lump of rock, and the rest of the system as a matter of fact, liked to use simple, descriptive names for their six seasons, and to me none of them did justice to what they described. Their warmest season, Hot, featured average temperatures of roughly four degrees centigrade, while their coldest, Cold-Cold, averaged out at nearly minus ninety degrees centigrade. So yes, in a way the names did a little justice, but only in comparison.

It was difficult even for my expert pilot Yves Defré to guide my cutter through the thick blanket of haze over the planet surface and to a safe landing on a recently cleared landing port. There were three other such ports - little more than flat beds of rockcrete - located at the spaceport. They were all empty, aside from the mountain of built up snow that had grown as a result of neglect. Alerted by my astropathic hails, the commander of the spaceport had ordered this bay cleared. Such was the custom of the planet, and I could see the sense of it. Not many people came to this planet anymore, not since the research station was abandoned some years ago, and so there was no need to keep the ship bays clear all the time.

Even though I was wearing multiple layers of thermo-insulated clothing and a rather heavy heat-cloak over the top of everything, the planets glacial wind still found a way to slice through to my body and chill it to the bone.

"I'm not even sure if all this cold gear is actually making a difference." I said quietly to my companions Kyle Vertancore and Fara Pelissia. A small party of officials were making their way towards me and my party, so I spoke quietly to not offend them.

"It is. Without it your body would become so cold that your blood would crystallise, your flesh and bones would become as brittle as glass and your skin would probably shatter." Pelissia murmured in reply without once breaking her speech.

I flicked a glance at her, and she glanced back, smiling discreetly. "Do that again and I'll shoot you."

"No you won't. You haven't the balls."

"I'll vouch for that. They probably fell off from the cold." Kyle snickered.

My opportunity to reply was disturbed by the leading official of the welcoming party.

"Greetings inquisitor. I am Tycho Rebus, High Custodian of Spectus Minorus. This is Nathaniel Forbig, Chief of Security, and this is Dr Liza Zheng, Chief Scientist and Custodian of the research station. We welcome you all to Spectus Minorus."

Rebus was a stout man, slightly balding and wearing surprisingly little - a ceremonial heat robe and one or two layers of clothing - for the ghastly temperature. Then again, he was probably born in these temperatures. He carried a metallic staff with a spherical headpiece, presumably a sign of rank. Forbig, as his position may have implied, was a large man, who wore under his heat robe a complete set of carapace armour, perhaps insulated and had a chunky pistol holstered at his right thigh, with spare magazines on the opposite leg. Liza Zheng was a thin woman who could be called lithe if she were a little more athletic looking. She too wore comparatively little compared to us. Her black hair was tied back in a ponytail, and a pair of thick rimmed eyeglasses were perched over her delicately sculpted nose, shielding the undeniable beauty behind them.

"I thank you for your hospitality, Custodian." I replied curtly. The cold was really starting to get on my nerves.

"No doubt you are eager to see to your business, inquisitor." Zheng said to us, with a wave of her arm, "If you would like to follow me." She walked with the brisk, practised step of a senior female scientist.

"Good hunting, inquisitor. I will have ground crews work on your craft, if you so wish." Rebus said to me before I left. With a courteous nod I agreed with his suggestion, before moving off with my party. Forbig trotted along with us, presumably under orders. I didn't mind. I would need the extra help if my suspicions proved correct, which I hoped I did. I wasn't prepared to put up with this ridiculous cold for nothing.

We followed Zheng through a double set of sliding doors into a reasonably lit reception area. It was a standard setting, but it was at least warm. The residual numbness in my body stopped me overheating immediately, and it was enough for the short journey from one door to another, back out into the damning cold. I set down my frost visor when I noticed that our transport was a good distance away. Warm air flowed from beneath it, and made me feel a little better. Upon seeing this, Dr Zheng smirked.

"Don't worry inquisitor. You'll get used to it soon enough."

"Easy for you to say." I found myself muttering, despite my efforts to remain as formal as possible. Either the doctor was used to such remarks or was too cold to show a reaction. I believe the first option.

The door to the multi-passenger snow bus slid open, and Liza waved me through.

"If you will."

With another of my brief nods, I climbed into the vehicle, followed by Kyle and Fara, then Forbig and Liza.

"Let's go!" she called to the driver. Soon enough, the big machine moved off.

During the journey, I noticed that Liza had taken one of the las-carbines stored at the side of the cabin, and was performing all the necessary inspections and making adjustments with trained swiftness. I could not help myself.

"Thank you doctor, but I will be fine with my own weapons." I said. She looked up, staring at me as if I was stupid.

"Oh, you weren't told, were you?" she then said, "I'm going in with you."

"But…I…hmm…" I spluttered.

"Remember inquisitor, I am the research station's chief custodian. I know every inch of every building. You need me, and if you don't like it you can discuss the matter later on with the High Custodian."

Defeated, I sat back in my chair, pretending to check my las-pistols to stop Fara looking at me. With a smile, she returned to her auto-pistol. Kyle was busying himself with adjusting his shotgun but was obviously laughing to himself at my encounter with Zheng. Forbig was behind me, but I could tell that he too found it amusing.

For some reason, I did not.

Two

My name is Marcus Weissen. As I mentioned before, I am a member of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition, an inquisitor of the Ordo Malleus, devoted to the eradication of daemons and such associated blasphemies, and have been for the past twenty-two years. Being an inquisitor, I find that my ways lean me towards the way of the Amalathians. I am fifty standard years of age, young in terms of inquisitors, am an exceptional shot with a pistol and equally deft with almost any sort of blade. There is little else to know about me which particularly matters, except that, again, as mentioned before I have been hunting down the heretic Conduray Quinn for three years.

After what seemed an eternity riding in the spacious and marginally comfortable vehicle, we came to a halt outside the main gate of the large research complex. As we disembarked, a question came to mind.

"Dr Zheng." I said sharply.

"Yes, inquisitor?" she turned to face me without breaking her stride. She was used to walking and talking as to be expected.

"It is known that the research station is abandoned."

"It is."

"So why does it need a custodian?"

"It doesn't. They weren't bothered taking away my position so I got to keep it." She said. I had noticed earlier that she had changed into more suitable combat clothing, her las-carbine slung over her shoulder. The glasses were gone, and now her real beauty was clearly evident. Either way, the story had a few holes in it. Then again, politics do not interest me.

"Stay focused. Marcus. Things don't feel right around here." It was Fara, her voice low and concerned. She was right, things certainly didn't feel natural. I made a series of discreet hand signals to Kyle behind me to tell him what I thought, discreetly so that Forbig would not become suspicious.

At the large blast door of the main building, it did not take a scientist to realise that something was very much wrong. The keypad that was to operate the large door had been evidently tampered with - evidently is an understatement, for the whole keypad had been smashed open. The door itself was half open, but open enough for a person to walk through.

Keep your weapons down. I sent a telepathic message to all those in my party, including Zheng and Forbig. They looked at me strangely, but agreed.

We made our way down a wide corridor, passing labs, windows, doors and the odd security camera, long out of use. At last we came to a three pronged crossroads.

"From what I can remember, the power generator is this way, there's nothing but more labs down there, and this leads to the next building." Liza said quietly. There was a very soldierly sort of look in her eyes, and I began to doubt what kind of scientist she was.

"I'll take the other labs." Forbig said, making his way to the right corridor.

"You can't cover it all on your own." Liza said to him.

"I'll go with him." Fara said, before walking down the corridor after the security chief.

"The power generator area is small enough for me. I'll take it." Liza said. I noticed the vox earpiece that she wore.

"Stay in touch." I said to her, getting only a nod in return.

"Well Marcus, I guess that leaves the leftovers for us." Kyle said, readying his shotgun. Together we made our way down the hallway into the next building.

From story from here you probably already know…

Autogun shots ricocheted off the system of metal pipes that I hid behind. With my first salvo of fire, I had dropped three of my quarry. From above on the second level I could hear furious shotgun discharges, then a flurry of autoguns in reply. Kyle had picked the nasty half. I bent my will, and raised my voice.

"Show yourselves!" I yelled.

Immediately, one of the ice-pickers stepped out into the open, completely unaware of what he was doing. Three shots dropped him. The other ice-picker stumbled out, realised his mistake too late and died with a large hole in his chest. The third, the autogunner, proceeded to stick his upper body out from behind cover. A final crack shot hit him in the neck and almost decapitated him. My vox unit crackled to life.

"Marcus!!" It was Kyle.

I turned towards the gangway, and ran for it, checking the charge on the las-pistols as I went. They were of an uncommon long pattern, elegantly shaped. They were also the most effective las-pistols I had ever used.

From my point of view I could see the various muzzle flashes and could clearly hear the sounds of a drawn out fire fight. No doubt half the planet had heard it too. Weaving in and out to avoid pipes and support blocks, I knew when I was directly beneath the enemy gunmen. Dropping down prone and rolling over onto my back, I unloaded my las-pistols directly up, pushing myself forward with my legs. The result was effective enough. Most of the gunners dropped, the rest firing their autoguns down at where they thought I was. There were several pistol discharges as more gunners dropped, then a familiar voice screaming in pain and frustration.

Damn it, Kyle. Hang in there. Gritting my teeth, I got up, reloaded the spent las-pistols and leapt up the metal stairs to the level above. I caught the remaining few gunmen by surprise and dropped them easily. They wore no armour, and no heat robes. The emptiness in their eyes told me that they were not doing this by their own free will. Puppets of a higher power. Quinn.

I found Kyle lying face up on the gangway, spent pistol still gripped in his hand. The bandolier was empty; the shotgun lay a few feet away. Blood leaked from the holes in his armour, and his wounds steamed. I had begun the rites of departure, when there was a hacking noise from Kyle's corpse. Or should I say his would be corpse.

"Not today Marcus. There's still work to do." Kyle sat up laboriously, and hacked, vomiting blood.

"Rest here. You're hurt." I said to him, although I knew it was pointless.

"It's a scratch." Kyle stood up, marginally recovered.

When I first found him on Thracian Primaris he was an officer of the Adeptus Arbites. The reason I offered him a place on my staff came when I saw him gunned down by militants in another of my investigations. He should have died then, but for his amazing grit. Not only could he brush off wounds that would kill any lesser man, he was an exceptional soldier. Since then he had become an important member of my retinue not only for his combat skills but his indomitable true grit.

He discarded his pistol. I noticed that the ammo pouches on his other leg were empty.

"What are you going to use?" I asked him. He walked over to the fallen puppets, and seeing an autogun that he seemed to like, he took it up and checked its load. With a generic grunt he discarded the empty clip and plucked another from the belt of another corpse and loaded the autogun.

"Let's go." I said to him as I made my way along the gangway. Hopefully to Quinn. Hopefully not to my doom.

Three

We walked quickly. There was little resistance along the way. It seemed to me that the heretic was almost willing us to come to him. It made me uneasy, knowing that we were walking into a trap, but I had come so far, I was not prepared to give up now. We entered another building, and immediately we could feel the temperature difference. We could also smell the metallic taste of freshly spilt blood. We moved quickly into cover to avoid detection. It made little difference anyway. Corduray Quinn was a psyker, and for all his grit and determination Kyle was no untouchable.

"Get them!! Kill the Arbites bastard, but bring me Marcus!!" Quinn's voice was shrill and rasping. Then he returned to chanting.

"Well, there's no use staying here." Kyle grinned savagely, breaking cover and letting rip. I did the same, only I wasted no shots. One shot, one kill. I aimed at Quinn several times, but his potent and dangerous mind always forced me otherwise. I was a powerful psyker in my own right, but I knew that I was outclassed here.

For the most part, the minions that ran towards us pointlessly were the same puppets we fought earlier on. However, as Quinn chanted, shapes formed in the huge vat of blood in front of him. Blood. That could mean only one thing. Khorne. Chaos. Daemons.

The shapes moulded one by one into Bloodletters, tall and muscled goatman daemons wielding a varying array of wavy bladed swords. They stepped from the vat and took up a battle formation, protecting their master.

"On second thoughts, just kill them both. Hop to it, children." Quinn ordered, before returning to his chanting.

There were approximately twenty Bloodletters. I had little charge remaining in my pistols, and Vertancore was already out. With an satirical smile, I returned my pistols to my holsters. Kyle looked at me.

"What are you doing?"

"Daemon slaying."

I gripped the fastening chain at the throat of my outer cloak, and ripped it away. The heavy cloak crumpled to the floor. It was getting hot, and it would only get in my way. I gripped my hands into fists, and sent two simple psychic orders to my MIU. From their containment within my sleeves, a pair of blades extended. They had been strapped to the top of either forearm, each measuring at sixty inches. With a guttural war cry, I leapt from the gangway to engage the oncoming daemons.

I have mentioned before my skill with blades. I was not lying. As I twisted and slashed, I left behind dazed and dead daemons. Some would try to attack me, driven by their want for blood. I evaded them easily and made quick work of the others. Truth be told, I quite enjoyed such activity. It was not completely easy, but was not like fighting say, a Bloodthirster.

The last of the Bloodletters crumpled to the floor, little more than a bloody mess. Then Kyle's quivering voice reached my ears.

"M…Marcus…look!!"

I soon saw why.

It was Quinn, surrounded by an unnatural light. He laughed, his voice now deep and frightening. The metamorphosis had already begun.

"You're too late, Weissen!! I have finally achieved utter supremacy through my pursuits. Now you are powerless to stop me!! AhhhhAHHHHHHHH!!!!" Quinn began to scream in agony, but somehow the screams sounded triumphant. I knew why.

Is whole body bulged, three times it's normal size and it kept growing. The sorcerer's mouth pushed outwards, huge curving horns growing from the side of his now huge head. Much of his clothing shredded as his body grew coarse hair. The skin hardened and turned a deep shade of crimson. Huge dagger teeth sprouted from the jaws. The hands melted into huge paws. Huge hoofed goat legs replaced Quinn's normal legs. Vast wings emerged from the greater daemon's shoulders. It was huge, almost four times bigger than me. Damn the irony of it all. It was a greater daemon of Khorne. A Bloodthirster. My blades were not power weapons, so there was little use for them. I retracted them, and began chanting the rites of banishment. They would not banish such a powerful daemon, but they were doing something; they were getting him pissed off.

The cursed thing ran at me on all fours. I jumped out of the way to avoid the impaling horns only to be thrown several metres back by the large wings. It ran forward to me again, reared up and proceeded to bludgeon me with its massive hands. Projecting a psychic shield, I could do little else as it pummelled my invisible defences. It stopped for a moment, and seemed to laugh. It struck me then that it was still Corduray Quinn inside this blasphemous body. He focused his mind, and easily nullified my shield. Now I was defenceless. I would have died there and then, had no the roof over me collapsed.

It was not the collapse itself that made the difference, but what had caused it. As it landed and stood to it's full height, I thanked the Emperor for my fortune. Nearly two metres tall, in shining aegis suit, gauntlet mounted storm bolter on left hand, Nemesis force sword in the other; he was a space marine of the Grey Knights chapter. Ordo Xenos had the Deathwatch. Ordo Malleus had the Grey Knights, an entire chapter of space marines dedicated to daemon slaying.

"Are you injured, inquisitor?" asked my saviour.

I lowered the shield that I had just managed to cast to protect me from the falling roof pieces. "I am fine."

"Good. Then perhaps it is time to purge this damned thing back to where it came from."

"Be careful, Brother-Captain. He was a powerful psyker in his time." I warned.

"Suggestion noted, inquisitor."

Quinn, or the monstrous daemon he had become, was taken aback by the sudden appearance of the marine, but only for a moment. Putting his head down, the daemon charged at the genetically bred warrior. Unfazed, the brother-captain simply raised his left arm and fired his storm bolter, psychically modified shells driving the daemon back. Clearing the distance between him and the daemon in three strides, the space marine gripped his sword two handed and made a single, sweeping slash from left to right across Quinn's torso. As the huge, detached piece of daemon dropped to the floor, its legs turned to dust, and when the upper body had reached a suitable level, the marine completed the cut, going from right back to left, severing the daemon's massive head. All the while he chanted the rites of banishment, amplified and helped by his ancient suit of holy power armour. As the severed head hit the ground, it and the rest of the ashes melted into a pool of blood, slithering quickly back to the vat of blood.

"What in the Emperor's name…" the marine gasped, as the greater daemon simply respawned out from the vat of blood.

Shouting an exorcism prayer, the space marine blasted at the daemon with his storm bolter, littering its chest and body with holes. But I knew that he was aiming in the wrong place. I drew one of my las-pistols, and took a deadeye aim at the daemon's eyeball. I squeezed the trigger once - it was all I would need - and there was a small explosion from Quinn's eye socket, the las-bolt exiting from the other side of the skull. Black liquid, brain fluid rather than daemon blood, ran down the wound - quite small compared to the space marine's blast craters - and the daemon stumbled from the vat, collapsing to its knees. It began to change again, but it shrunk instead of growing. The grey knight took aim with his bolter, but I rested my hand on his arm.

"No." I said, "I want him to die slowly."

As if puzzled by my decision, the space marine lowered his tree trunk arm and watched as Conduray Quinn emerged from the daemon's shape, writhing in pain. Eventually he stopped. It grew cold again, and after a short time the heretic's blood and gore glued his naked body face down to the floor.

"Now you may destroy him, brother-captain. Ensure he never rises again." I ordered.

"With pleasure inquisitor."

As the space marine opened fire with his bolter, shattering the corpse to splinters, I looked back to Kyle, transfixed in place by the battle.

"Mission completed?" he asked calmly, as if it were any normal sort of mission.

"Mission completed, Vertancore. Let's leave this damn freezer."

We made our way back the way we had come to the main building, back to the crossroads. There we found Pelissia and Dr Zheng, but Forbig was nowhere to be found. One look at Fara's wounds told me that he was dead. Zheng had minor scratches and cuts and had abandoned the las-carbine, but was otherwise fine.

"May I suggest that we leave this place immediately, inquisitor?" the Grey Knight asked from behind us. "I can feel the taint that the area has infected with."

I knew then that his suggestion was a good one. No one wants to be around for an Exterminatus strike. "Let's go. Now." I said, firmly.

Fara looked at me strangely, not really heeding the gigantic marine's presence, when Kyle realised.

"Exterminatus." he said grimly. That was enough.

"Let's go."

From the safety of my cutter, I watched the destructive force of the orbiting Malleus battleship. It took one strike to completely flatten the entire research station.

Later, as I tended to her wounds, Fara told me of how Forbig had been impaled by the flensing knife fingers of an arco-flagellent, how there were two of them, one with large scythe blades in the place of hands, and how he had saved her life twice, then making the ultimate sacrifice for her. What she told me worried me, for arco-flagellents were loaned out by the Adeptus Mechanicus to inquisitors. I hoped dearly that it was not an inquisitor behind all this.

At the request of the Grey Knight, we docked with the Malleus battleship an hour after the research station's demolition. We all dressed formally for the occasion, myself in a dark grey suit with full length black coat. Kyle wore the clothes he made planetfall in, just about as formal as he could get. Fara picked a deep red bodyglove and high leather boots. Yves, my pilot, wore an Imperial Navy uniform jacket over a suit of black. My savant, so much older than me, wore what he usually wore - dark blue pants and a long sleeved green shirt - under a ceremonial robe. My astropath wore a dull grey suit of wool and leant heavily on the ebony cane that assisted his right leg. Dr Zheng, who had left her belongings behind on Spectus Minorus had found something of her liking in Fara's wardrobe, and with her permission borrowed a flowing green gown. She had discarded once again her eyeglasses, and stood out like some mythical goddess. I still held my doubts about her qualifications as a doctor, but had no doubts about her beauty. She turned and flashed me a sharp look. That woke me up. I focused myself on what was ahead. Grey Knights were sometimes followed into battle by inquisitors of the Ordo Malleus, some of whom I knew, others of whom were friends, and others still whom I had no wish to see, greet or meet.

We were greeted on the landing platform by the marine who had saved my hide nearly two hours ago and his squad of Grey Knights. He had removed his helmet, and cradled it under one arm, his Nemesis sword sheathed by his side. He and his squad dropped to one knee and greeted me formally.

"Brother-Captain Choten and squad greets the honourable inquisitor Weissen. We are honoured by your omniscient presence."

I was a little surprised. I was a respected inquisitor throughout my order, but I was still more or less junior compared to more senior members of my organisation. There was no need to greet me with such formality, especially not since I owed the marine my life, rather than the opposite. I noticed that they were still kneeled in front of me.

"Rise, Brother-Captain Choten and squad. I am honoured by your generous greeting." I said. There was little else I could think of. (Ok, for all those hardcore Black Library readers, this is obviously not an "official" greeting, but if you can correct me, please do and let me know through this: no_more_addresses_left@hotmail.com)

The space marines rose and towered over us. They walked towards the large door connecting this landing bay to the rest of the ship. We were inclined to follow them. Surrounded by the entourage of space marines, we made our way down a wide corridor until we came to a vast dining hall. A long table had been set for us, and was being fussed over by several servitors. I began to get the feeling about the identity of the inquisitor in charge of this ship. An advanced servitor bade us all to take a seat at the table and told us that our host would soon be here. Just as we got comfortable, a familiar voice called out.

"Marcus Weissen, so it is you!!" A tall figure stood in a far doorway, an Inquisitorial rosette proudly displayed on his breast.

"Konrad Holk. Judging from the extravagance of my greeting aboard this ship, I had little doubts that it was you." I replied, struggling to conceal my happiness.

"Oh come now! Can't you bring yourself to say it how it is, even to your old friend?" He smiled. I smiled. Then we laughed.

"Enough of this. Would you care to introduce me to those members of your party who I have yet to meet?" he said, taking a seat at the head of the table, next to me in a way.

"Yes, most certainly. Over some food, which I believed was arriving."

As if my question had been an order, servitors immediately appeared carrying dishes of food. As was Holk's way, it smelt like the best, and it probably was.

As we ate happily, I filled in Holk on whatever he asked for about what had happened since we last met. I introduced Dr Zheng to him, and also Fara Pelissia who had not met before. Then I told him what he didn't know about my sector spanning case hunting down Conduray Quinn. He was shocked but visibly entertained - ironic that people are so entertained by the pains of others - when I told him what he didn't know about Spectus Minorus. After all, the daemonic presence on the planet had alerted the Ordo Malleus, and they immediately sent out a ship to deal with it when they saw the scale of strife. Holk was truly surprised to find that it was only the research station that showed any sign of the infestation, and was about to flatten it an hour earlier when his sensors - luckily - had detected me and my party inside. As a temporary relief and to get us out alive, he sent down Brother-Captain Choten to assist. I doubt anyone expected a Greater Daemon of Khorne to appear. Least of all, to be honest, me…

After the meal, we each went our separate ways. Dr Zheng disappeared to the ship's library; Kyle gave Fara a tour of the ship since he had been on it before; Yves found an old friend aboard, and talked to him for hours over a drink; my astropath returned to my cutter to rest; my savant Alessandro Cruxe, followed Dr Zheng to the library. Holk and myself went to watch the Grey Knights training from the observation decks, and chatted amongst ourselves like old friends should. The night passed, and soon enough we were plunging into the maelstrom, heading back for home.

Four

On the fourth day of the month long journey we speared back into real space. It was as close as we could get to our destination through the warp, and we had to carry on from here through real space.

A few days later, I met Dr Zheng in one of the ships training rooms. Before we left Spectus Minorus, the High Custodian sent back a transmission releasing Liza Zheng from her duties on the research station now that it was a big hole in the ground. So she had decided to join us. Although I had not offered to have her join my staff permanently, I could use her combat skills.

I had been training every day to stay in shape, and when I was about to start another session, the sight of Dr Zheng, standing there in a skintight body suit, greeted me. She turned at the sound of the door opening and me stepping through.

"Good day, Marcus." She said, turning back to the computer terminal.

"I didn't expect to see you here. You came prepared too." I replied, taking the terminal next to hers.

"Actually I've been expecting you. Your friend Konrad tells me that you're quite the blade master." she said, before finding a weapon she liked the look of. "Shall we?" she challenged, taking the double sided glaive from the rack.

"Of course." I replied, scrolling across until I found an identical weapon.

"Anything goes." Her voice called out just as I was about to select it.

With a smile I scrolled back to the sword that I had used frequently, and selected it instead. I waited, listening to the fluid shifting of gears as the concealed racks moved to dispense my choice. Soon, it appeared on the open rack, and I took it up.

It was not of any exotic design, but was a well balanced blade, not too wide, but not too thin. I stood a few paces from Liza, and held the sword out in front of me by the scabbard. She returned the familiar duelling gesture with her weapon, gripping the middle of the haft. We bowed quickly to each other, and took our stances. In the training suit, the scientist looked lithe and deadly. Despite her light build I could see conditioned muscles creating contours on the skintight suit, and her confidence in her stance told me for sure that she knew what she was doing.

"First blood to the upper body wins." She added to the challenge, then seeing my shocked expression, added with a smile "Are you game, inquisitor?"

"It depends; are you?" I replied, slipping the sword from the sheath and changing my stance quickly.

Without warning, save for another killer smile, Liza brought up her weapon and charged headlong at me, beginning her attack with rapid alternating strikes that I only blocked away with much effort. She used both the point and edge of the blades in perfect conjunction, lashing out with sharp slashes and following up with wide sweeping blows that drove me back wards. As she came forward again, I restrained myself from using my will. In real combat, I would have used it to gain an upper hand, but this was not a true enemy. Instead, I interrupted her attack with a forward thrust, aimed at her heart. Her eyes widened a moment before she sidestepped nimbly, and I went right past her. However, she did not know that I had counted on her avoiding my attack, and I came around rapidly with a sweeping slash that met the lightweight steel haft of her weapon. I was truly amazed at her speed, and distracted by my thoughts I barely avoided the sharp counter attack she had launched. Sidestepping, I let loose a strong kick that I knew she would block with the haft. She stumbled back, and dropped her long weapon.

"Damn you." She muttered.

"I haven't won yet. No blood." I replied, and I was right. Liza seemed to get what I was implying.

Walking quickly back to the terminal, I could not see the weapon she chose until it appeared on the rack. It was a sword, the blade not as wide as mine but lighter. I had used this one before. A long hilt made room for a two handed grip. The slightly curved blade made it ideal for both slashing and thrusting, and made sweeping blocks easier. My sword had a five-centimetre advantage in terms of blade length, but hers was faster. Taking the sword from the rack, Liza discarded the scabbard and resumed a combat stance in front of me. She held the blade down near her rear leg, a two handed grip holding the sword expertly still. I took a new approach, holding my blade back with one hand, legs shoulder width, looking side on at my opponent. We had both clearly taken defensive stances, and she knew it. It was a waiting game to see who would become impatient first and attack. We stood for what seemed an eternity, but what was in reality about thirty seconds. She broke first, snapping her blade up to an offensive position and covering the distance between us quickly. I stepped backwards to avoid her first few slashes before bringing up my blade in a wide two handed arc. There was a loud clanging of metal on metal, then several more as we traded attack for block, parry for riposte. I struggled to keep up with Liza's twisting form. Eventually my opponent achieved her goal, forcing an error in my blade placement. There was a sharp pain in my thigh that dropped me to one knee, then another across my chest. I looked up, and beyond the tip of Liza's sword blade I could see her face.

I smiled grimly despite my loss, "You're one hell of a scientist!"

"And you're not much of an inquisitor." She said back, withdrawing the sword from my face.

A few hours later, I was summoned to the bridge of the ship. When I got there, I was greeted by Holk and his chief navigator. He then showed me the holographic viewscreen, displaying a rotating image of a nearby planet. Holk then took command.

"Now, this is the planet Iota-335. It has yet to be colonised, but has been classified as a fertile world. Zoom in." The image changed to show a great area of water. "This section of ocean is where the main continent is located. Zoom in." I was treated with a closer view of the planet's surface, a large land mass now occupying much of the screen. "This is the main continent." Seeing my impatience, Holk hastened to his point. "Zoom by ten. In this area, the ships sensors detected something similar to what we sensed coming from Spectus Minorus. Zoom by ten" He pointed to a large square, which from the orbital view looked to be a large building of some sort. But that was impossible. "Here is the exact location of the disturbance. We sent down three drones, and only one managed to relay something back to us. It appears to be some sort of a stone mausoleum. We have no idea how the other two drones were lost, but whatever it was it took the last one too."

Now he had my attention. "You said the planet was uncolonised. So that means whoever or whatever built that thing were not colonists?"

"Not official colonists at least. It could be anything, but I suspect that they are human, judging from the design of the structure. It's of a pre dawn design."

"A mysterious structure on a planet in the middle of nowhere built to a design created before the birth of the Imperium." I said slowly.

"It seems suspicious enough for me." Holk said.

"We should let Ordo Xenos know first. Then we should take a look." I suggested.

"Done already. We've actually been in this system for a little while now if you'll remember. We didn't tell you because you spent most of your time hiding." piped up the navigator.

"The Grey Knights are all geared up and ready. All we need is your confirmation." Konrad said looking at me.

"Confirmation of what? That I'll be going with you? Well, you have it. Let's go." I replied.

"Excellent. We leave in forty minutes."

Forty minutes later we sat the wall mounted bracket benches of the dropship's hold. I wore a