Sarpedon called up the fleet display. The ten Soul Drinkers' fighters had got through unscathed and had left the cordon well behind them. Sergeant Luko's ship, with the infirmary and Chaplain Iktinos on board, was safe in the middle of the formation since it carried the prisoner Sarkia Aristeia. The fighter at the rear was captained by Tyrendian, one of the Chapter's few remaining Librarians, apart from Sarpedon. His ship flew through fields of spinning debris and never took a shot.
Sarpedon always felt a faint pang of remorse when he was forced to take the lives of Imperial citizens. He had even felt it when Phrantis Jenassis died. The tragedy of the Imperium wasn't that it provided a breeding ground for the galaxy's evils -it was that the untold billions of people locked in its authority fought as if it was their only salvation. The people were the Imperium, and if they could only understand the error of that tyranny they could dissolve it overnight and make it into something that could truly eradicate the darkness of Chaos. But they could not. People were too blind to look beyond what surrounded them. Sarpedon himself, and every single Soul Drinker, had once been the most fervent defenders of the Imperium, believing its existence to be part of the Emperor's great plan to shepherd humanity towards something better.
But in truth the Emperor hated corruption, sin, and Chaos, and all those things were made possible by the Imperium. That was why the Emperor had given the Soul Drinkers a chance of redemption. They answered to no one but him, and Sarpedon knew that he wanted nothing more from them than to fight Chaos wherever they found it. Perhaps the Emperor was dead and was now no more than an idea - but that idea was still worth fighting for. And fighting was all the Soul Drinkers could do.
But the Soul Drinkers had to survive. And that was the purpose of this mission - survival. It seemed a petty thing alongside the war against Chaos, but it had to be done before the Emperor's commands could be fulfilled.
The alien fleet slipped through the void, leaving behind a squadron of vaporised fighters. Silently they slid into the Stratix warzone, into that place of death on a mission of survival.
LORD INQUISITOR KOLGO was an old man. It was all but impossible to rise to any position of authority within the Inquisition without having weathered decades of persecuting the Emperor's foes. Kolgo's rise within the Ordo Hereticus had taken a relatively short time - about eighty years.
Lord Inquisitor Kolgo was like a giant of a man, wearing the impossibly ornate ceremonial power armour that rivalled the Terminator armour of the Space Marines in size. Gilded angels danced across the barrel-like chest plate of ceramite. A power fist adorned each massive arm, with litanies of faith on the knuckles to symbolise how faith itself destroyed the Emperor's enemies, not simple raw strength. Sculpted friezes on each shoulder depicted infidels crushed beneath the boots of crusading knights. Red purity seals studded the armoured limbs, trailing ribbons of parchment inscribed with prayers.
Lord Kolgo's face, with nut-brown wrinkled skin and tiny inquisitive eyes, seemed utterly out of place on such a gilded monster. But the armour was the ceremonial garb of the lord inquisitor of the Stratix sector, and Kolgo could hardly hold audience without it.
At that moment he was giving an audience to one Inquisitor Thaddeus, in relative terms not long out of his interrogator training. It was something of a stretch for the man to have asked for an audience at all, since he was not directly involved with the warzone effort to which Kolgo had dedicated his waking hours. The circular audience chamber with its deep scarlet carpet and oppressively huge chandeliers was designed to remind everyone of Kolgo's authority, but to his credit Thaddeus didn't seem to be cowed by Kolgo's presence.
'Inquisitor Thaddeus.’ began Kolgo. You understand that, given our current situation, I cannot allocate any real resources to you. It is fortunate that there is enough room in this fortress for you and your staff.’
'I understand.’ replied Thaddeus. 'But my mission does intersect with yours. The Soul Drinkers may well be in league with Chaos, and a renegade Chapter in the employ of the enemy would be a major factor in Teturact's favour. The Soul Drinkers'
presence within the Stratix warzone is surely a matter of some concern.’
'Perhaps you are right. But you must understand my priorities. Teturact has killed billions already, and if we do not maintain our focus on destroying him the sector may be lost for good.'
The favour I have to ask you, lord inquisitor, is not a great one.' Thaddeus was following the correct form for an audience with a lord, but he was not obsequious. Kolgo was quietly impressed. 'My staff and I are very close indeed to cornering the Soul Drinkers. What I need now is information. The Adeptus Mechanicus will have records of all their staff members that were on the outpost on Eumenix when the Soul Drinkers attacked...'
Kolgo held up a hand, the massive power fist whirring with servos. 'What you ask I cannot deliver.’
'But my lord, the Mechanicus must bow to your authority. It is not much that I ask. I regret only that my own authority does not stretch as far as to force the hand of the archmagi. If I could learn what I needed by myself I would have gladly done so, but your word carries far more weight than mine so I must ask that you do this for our mutual good.’
Kolgo sighed, as if weary. 'Thaddeus, the Mechanicus supply the ordinatus which inquisitors under my remit will use to destroy the targets they identify. The Mechanicus maintain our ships and the weapons we carry. Most importantly, it is their magi biologis who are being used by us to examine all aspects of the plague and the horrors that follow them. This operation requires closer cooperation with the Adeptus Mechanicus than any I have commanded before.
When this Inquisitorial command was formed, I had to ensure that cooperation would not fail. Archmagos Ultima Cryol met with me to confirm that we would do all we could to help one another. He promised me the ordinatus, weapons and support we desperately needed. I promised him in return that the forge worlds of Sadlyen Falls XXI, Themiscyra Beta and Salshan Anterior would not fall to Teturact.
'Salshan Anterior is already gone. We believe its servitor stocks were infected and were scrapped rather than incinerated - they returned to life, rose up and killed every living thing on the planet. This is bad enough, I am having to make concessions I cannot afford just to keep Inquisitorial warships in space. But Themiscyra Beta is showing signs of infection, too. I have flooded the place with inquisitors and their staff, but they cannot find the source of the infection and are having precious little success in stopping its spread. You understand, Thaddeus, that I simply cannot ask for any more favours from the Mechanicus.’
Thaddeus shook his head, more sad than angry. 'Lord Kolgo, we are so close. The Soul Drinkers are a step ahead of us but I could stop them if I could only pre-empt their next move. I could do that with your help. If we could get the Mechanicus to allow me just a few minutes' access to their databases.
'Thaddeus, if what you want is information concerning Eumenix then it is more difficult than that. Eumenix would have fallen under the jurisdiction of the subsector command on Salshan Anterior, which is impossible to access if indeed it even exists any more. The only repository for the information you seek will be the Mechanicus sector command itself, and the archmagos ultima considers the information it contains to be a sacred relic. At the best of times it could take years of politicking to get an inquisitor inside. As you are no doubt aware, these are not the best of times.’