I looked at myself in the mirror.
I recognized myself, but I still looked different from what I did when I woke up. Harder.
Working for an Inquisitor for six years does that for you, I suppose.
My brown hair was cut short in a common cut and I was clean shaven. A slight scar by one temple where I had hit a wall a bit harder than strictly necessary while dodging a gangers stubber fire of all the stupid things. It was small enough not to disrupt my work so I kept it as a reminder not to take any enemy lightly, so far I had been able to keep it.
My eyes looked identically pale greyish green, despite that one of them being an augmetic.
Naria did amazing work. You could even see the iris move as I shifted my focus. Of course, this kind of augmetic was only really available to the hyper-wealthy, like nobility or planetary governors.
Or members of the Inquisition, I suppose. The ones in my brain and along my spine weren't exactly common either.
I was also in the best shape of my life. Very useful for running away from things shooting at you, something I was very keen on being good at.
While a lot of what we did was investigative, there was a lot more running involved than I really liked.
Finishing washing my face, I dried myself before picking a shirt up and slipping it on, following it with an Inquisitorial long coat. Last thing….
Might as well give the best impression I could on the people that would be fighting for me and the Emperor.
I usually preferred something more civilian to blend in, but there are times you need to make an impression.
Picking up the small metal box I opened it and looked down at the Interrogator Rosette. An Inquisitor Rosette was gold and black with a black I on it. Usually.
Mine was smaller with silver on black.
Picking it from the small box, I attached it to my shirt by my throat.
Stopping by the workbench, I looked at the Vivisector combat robot. It was sitting there like any other dumb peice of metal. Not a servitor, an actual robot running on a cogitator.
No AI of course, but you could do a lot with the right scripts and decision trees.
Patting the metal on it's back, I then turned and left my quarters, heading towards the briefing room in grunt country.
I found Teres just outside, holding a dataslate in his hands. He looked up when I approached, "Tezzeret," he said with a nod, "Morning."
"Morning," I agreed, "It certainly is that."
That drew a thin smile from him and he held the dataslate out for me.
I took it and glanced down at the screen, "You found five?"
"Found five," He agreed and nodded towards the room, "Waiting inside."
I nodded, "Thank you," I said before I tapped the button and the door opened for me, allowing me to stride inside.
All five men inside went to attention when they spotted me. You might be surprised, but none of them were particularly large.
They all had the same regulation haircuts other than the guy on the far left that was shaved clean. All wearing the same identical dark darky grey fatigues.
"Are you ready to die for the Emperor?!" I asked loudly as I walked inside, making sure to put some whirl into my longcoat.
I'm allowed to be dramatic. I'm actually fairly sure it's required.
"Yes sir!"
"Well, frack that," I said and scowled at them, "And If I hear any of you talk like that, I'll shoot you myself!"
That knocked them out of their scripted responses. Not out of attention, but all of them looked somewhat confused.
"Uhm… sir?" The man on the far right asked.
Sergeant Darien Weller. Medium height and with blonde hair, a scar across his chin. Survivor of a battle against tyranid forces during a splinter fleet engagement. Got snagged up by the Inquisition after he managed to survive the rest of his battalion getting eaten. Cadian.
The leader of the group, or would be at least.
"Dying for the Emperor is easy," I said as I met each of their eyes, stopping a couple of meters short from them, "Inquisitor Aurelius and myself have something much more important and difficult in mind for you. You are to live for the Emperor, your lives aren't yours to throw away. Everytime you survive, is one time your life can be spent on a much more important matter later. If I see any of you dying heroically, you better pray that the Emperor does indeed protect, because when I finally get to find you by the Golden Throne, you will bloody well need it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Excellent," I said and crossed my arms, looking across them.
Peadar Burgstaller was the second from the right. A thin man, with short black hair, formerly of the Hikator PDF, he had gotten involved in an Inquisitorial purge and provided the Inquisitor with local support as a guide. At the end he had been offered a job. The next mission, there was a teleporter malfunction and most of his team ended up in a wall. He didn't and managed to survive.
In the middle was Linus Arnesen. A thick built man, slightly balding and his short hair was slightly greying. A former member of the Valhallan 56th rifles, demolition specialist. He was recruited into the Inquisition after he was saved from a Drukhari slave barge on it's way to orbit. Space Wolves had teleported onboard and purged the vessel. One lucky bastard.
Zhivko Shelby was second to last. A short thin man, with short black hair. He looked like he was constantly trying not to fidget. He was a former member of the Jeloki 67th artillery as a radio operator. His entire battery ended up recruited into the Inquisition after they saw something they shouldn't. The notes didn't say what it was, only that it was above my clearance level. Apparently the choice they got was join the Inquisition or Servitor. A few picked servitor.
The last man was the only one that looked calm. Too calm. Callan Gupta was a man of medium build and a shaved head, his eyes grey and flat. He reminded me of a shark. A sniper from the 89th Cadian rifles, he had been recruited after he went awol and hunted an enemy combatant through a jungle for three weeks. He had been given the choice of Inquisition or execution for desertion.
I slowly nodded, "You'll work," I finally said, "grab your kits and anything else you think you might need from the quartermaster. Get ready, we're leaving in five days."
Then I turned and walked out.
I recognized myself, but I still looked different from what I did when I woke up. Harder.
Working for an Inquisitor for six years does that for you, I suppose.
My brown hair was cut short in a common cut and I was clean shaven. A slight scar by one temple where I had hit a wall a bit harder than strictly necessary while dodging a gangers stubber fire of all the stupid things. It was small enough not to disrupt my work so I kept it as a reminder not to take any enemy lightly, so far I had been able to keep it.
My eyes looked identically pale greyish green, despite that one of them being an augmetic.
Naria did amazing work. You could even see the iris move as I shifted my focus. Of course, this kind of augmetic was only really available to the hyper-wealthy, like nobility or planetary governors.
Or members of the Inquisition, I suppose. The ones in my brain and along my spine weren't exactly common either.
I was also in the best shape of my life. Very useful for running away from things shooting at you, something I was very keen on being good at.
While a lot of what we did was investigative, there was a lot more running involved than I really liked.
Finishing washing my face, I dried myself before picking a shirt up and slipping it on, following it with an Inquisitorial long coat. Last thing….
Might as well give the best impression I could on the people that would be fighting for me and the Emperor.
I usually preferred something more civilian to blend in, but there are times you need to make an impression.
Picking up the small metal box I opened it and looked down at the Interrogator Rosette. An Inquisitor Rosette was gold and black with a black I on it. Usually.
Mine was smaller with silver on black.
Picking it from the small box, I attached it to my shirt by my throat.
Stopping by the workbench, I looked at the Vivisector combat robot. It was sitting there like any other dumb peice of metal. Not a servitor, an actual robot running on a cogitator.
No AI of course, but you could do a lot with the right scripts and decision trees.
Patting the metal on it's back, I then turned and left my quarters, heading towards the briefing room in grunt country.
I found Teres just outside, holding a dataslate in his hands. He looked up when I approached, "Tezzeret," he said with a nod, "Morning."
"Morning," I agreed, "It certainly is that."
That drew a thin smile from him and he held the dataslate out for me.
I took it and glanced down at the screen, "You found five?"
"Found five," He agreed and nodded towards the room, "Waiting inside."
I nodded, "Thank you," I said before I tapped the button and the door opened for me, allowing me to stride inside.
All five men inside went to attention when they spotted me. You might be surprised, but none of them were particularly large.
They all had the same regulation haircuts other than the guy on the far left that was shaved clean. All wearing the same identical dark darky grey fatigues.
"Are you ready to die for the Emperor?!" I asked loudly as I walked inside, making sure to put some whirl into my longcoat.
I'm allowed to be dramatic. I'm actually fairly sure it's required.
"Yes sir!"
"Well, frack that," I said and scowled at them, "And If I hear any of you talk like that, I'll shoot you myself!"
That knocked them out of their scripted responses. Not out of attention, but all of them looked somewhat confused.
"Uhm… sir?" The man on the far right asked.
Sergeant Darien Weller. Medium height and with blonde hair, a scar across his chin. Survivor of a battle against tyranid forces during a splinter fleet engagement. Got snagged up by the Inquisition after he managed to survive the rest of his battalion getting eaten. Cadian.
The leader of the group, or would be at least.
"Dying for the Emperor is easy," I said as I met each of their eyes, stopping a couple of meters short from them, "Inquisitor Aurelius and myself have something much more important and difficult in mind for you. You are to live for the Emperor, your lives aren't yours to throw away. Everytime you survive, is one time your life can be spent on a much more important matter later. If I see any of you dying heroically, you better pray that the Emperor does indeed protect, because when I finally get to find you by the Golden Throne, you will bloody well need it. Do you understand me?"
"Yes, sir!"
"Excellent," I said and crossed my arms, looking across them.
Peadar Burgstaller was the second from the right. A thin man, with short black hair, formerly of the Hikator PDF, he had gotten involved in an Inquisitorial purge and provided the Inquisitor with local support as a guide. At the end he had been offered a job. The next mission, there was a teleporter malfunction and most of his team ended up in a wall. He didn't and managed to survive.
In the middle was Linus Arnesen. A thick built man, slightly balding and his short hair was slightly greying. A former member of the Valhallan 56th rifles, demolition specialist. He was recruited into the Inquisition after he was saved from a Drukhari slave barge on it's way to orbit. Space Wolves had teleported onboard and purged the vessel. One lucky bastard.
Zhivko Shelby was second to last. A short thin man, with short black hair. He looked like he was constantly trying not to fidget. He was a former member of the Jeloki 67th artillery as a radio operator. His entire battery ended up recruited into the Inquisition after they saw something they shouldn't. The notes didn't say what it was, only that it was above my clearance level. Apparently the choice they got was join the Inquisition or Servitor. A few picked servitor.
The last man was the only one that looked calm. Too calm. Callan Gupta was a man of medium build and a shaved head, his eyes grey and flat. He reminded me of a shark. A sniper from the 89th Cadian rifles, he had been recruited after he went awol and hunted an enemy combatant through a jungle for three weeks. He had been given the choice of Inquisition or execution for desertion.
I slowly nodded, "You'll work," I finally said, "grab your kits and anything else you think you might need from the quartermaster. Get ready, we're leaving in five days."
Then I turned and walked out.
