Chapter 51: Profit
Chapter 51: Profit
An imposing Librarian rushed to the side of Arkio, standing watch as my tech-priest deftly disassembled the golden power armor, and threw the golden pieces towards me.
I waved an Armed Sentinel to pick up the irregular armor for me.
"Now, Astartes. What should I do with your traitor Chapter?" I asked Ludvaius in a soft voice.
While I never claimed to be an Inquisitor, I did carry a Rosette, and Ludvaius knew exactly who gave it to me, as he has been in the bedroom when I gifted Rose her children.
In this case, politics made excellent bed fellows.
The Veteran looked with pity at his deluded Battle-Brothers. "You will do what is best, like you always do, Lord Pef. Even the sacred spear doesn't harm you one bit."
Right, I still had that idiot stuck to my spear. "Captain Thrasius, head and heart if you will. We don't need a Great Demon to spring out and maybe ruin my excellent Canticle."
Two loud bangs sounded, as the phase-iron bolts struck the traitor, with bone shattering energy and psyker inhibitor effect. Eh, should be enough.
I withdrew the spear and stood ready to strike, but nothing arose from the shattered brain and chest of the excommunicated Inquisitor.
"Every one of you Astartes, come and taste the truth. Guardsmen, about face and return to barracks!" I yelled through my vox box attached to my helmet, then taped my helmet.
Ludvaius reacted promptly and took off my helm, and locked it to my belt.
The Scythe advanced first and scooped a tiny piece of brain, then ate it. Space Marines could indeed absorb memories this way, which made quite a great way for fact checking.
Sure, there was also torture and Mechanicus mind downloads, but the Inquisition would know how to protect their own, with implanted mental defenses and mind mazes.
He soon scowled and spat in disgust. "Malfallax !, the fool sold his soul to a demon."
I remembered that bit, but not everything. It wouldn't matter though.
"They are still not listening, Ludvaius. Oh well. I guess we're visiting Baal next. I still have that golden torpedo." I announced with distaste, then turned around and began walking away.
My words possibly remembered the Blood Angels that their autonomy and powers were still at the behest of the Imperium.
And Astartes did have good hearing. They had just elected not to obey.
Captain Thrasius ran after me, just as I began flipping the Rosette like a coin.
"Lord Lancefire, wait! They are tasting the truth, now." he spoke hastily.
I didn't stop, but instead returned the Rosetta to its protective casing at my back.
"Isn't this spear supposed to be heavy and too hard to use?" I asked instead, trying a few left-handed stabs at the air.
The Ogryns saluted with their own adamantium staves, probably thinking something stupid.
"Guard the hangar door, brave soldiers of the Emperor. Nobody is allowed in my ship, unless I say so." I commanded them via the vox beads implanted in their inner ears.
Leaving the Blood Angels stranded in the hangar, I rushed towards my Sentinels carrying the loot. "Deposit everything separately, item by item at the vault entrance. I'll send the tech-priests to purify the items if it is needed. Do no touch them with hands or anything organic."
"Roger that, Captain. Nice spear too!" a Catachan pilot replied irreverently. Almost like they were raised in a jungle...wait. They were.
More pilots started hooting and describing my bravery, although I did nothing of that sort. Well, except stealing the spear, from a demoralized Astartes.
And stabbing a sleeping man.
Well, legends were formed like that. In a thousand years, the myths might I say I slayed a dragon and an angel wept.
On the way, I did encounter some tech-priests and had my orders transmitted up the chain, then to the relevant priests with the specific database knowledge. Chaos artifacts and purification.
The Cult Mechanicus was still a religion at the base, and thus their prayers and rituals worked, because a trillion tech-priests believed they worked.
They also had more practical experience, due to their Forge Worlds being constantly attacked by nearly every enemy possible.
The missile corvettes and destroyers will soon change that, and hopefully reduce the Imperium's dependence on capital ships for defense.
After Shenlong, I wouldn't return to the Empire. My sons and daughters will still trade and exchange goods, but getting involved in politics would place me in the sights of more corrupt individuals with immense power.
Bluffing once might have worked, but it wouldn't work again.
A hundred tech-priests from a dozen clades arrived to examine and sanctify my loot, and quickly separated a few valuable relics that I could use.
A Rosarius, looking like belt buckle with a griffon on it. Basically a portable faith-based forcefield, with minor defense unless you were a true believer, in which case it could tank Titan-class wepaons.
A ring, with a wolf paw on the signet, which could detect movement and sounds for a hundred meters and alert the user.
Another ring, with a monkey face with long canines, could fire once with a lascannon beam. The priests didn't know how to recharge it. Very likely xeno-tech.
An Inquisitor coded book, with agents and informants and secret routes. Very useful for Rose, no doubt.
The big staff itself, acting like a psyker focus and a shield barrier against other psykers. Nice, but I lacked that gene myself. Rose maybe.
The Rosette and its covering case, disguised as a holy book. The other Rosette was coded to the traitor and will have to be sent to Terra.
The case was a Null_Box, so it could even tank battleships lances, for a million years.
I kept the book case, of course. It was more precious than my battlecruiser. Perhaps I could mount the box on my chest, as a heart plate. Would look a bit bulky, but I had battleship-strength enemies. And I could store stuff inside as well, so win-win.
The golden power armor was artificier-grade, and had everything a space marine could want. Well, except the wings flap, which will need to be covered, as I lacked wings.
The Inquisitor power armor was same grade, but didn't require a Black_Carapace organ to use, nor Astartes muscles and size. Confiscated as battle loot from boarding actions.
Then a dozen more mundane weapons, knives, poisons and garrote wire, truth serums and chemical sprays with euphoric and paralyzing effects, bolter, inferno pistol, dart thrower, grappling hook, a few grenades with various effects, from viruses to vortex and incendiary.
The guy had been loaded and armed for bear. But he didn't use what the Inquisition trained him to, instead he relied on psyker powers and his Astartes escort.
"Captain, some red Astartes are making noise at the hangar door. Permission to ventilate?" A Catachan officer wondered as his buddies in the Armed Sentinels whirred their chainsaws loudly in the background.
"Not yet, Major. I'll be right there soon." I spoke calmly and directed the priests to store the good loot in the vault, including the nicest spear ever.
"What do you want to do with these foul items, Captain?" the priest asked me pointing at some red candelabra and other ritual items.
I hummed deep in thought. "Can they be melted into bolt rounds? Might be nice to have something that harms Eldar souls."
The priests all stopped to stare at me. "They would go straight to hell, Lord Pef. The foul Immaterium demons would feast on their souls." one of them said a bit wary.
I nodded and walked away. "A hundred rounds then. Eject what's left into the sun."
It was time to receive my own Astartes Company, like I always wanted.
A short trip on the elevator saw me adjusting the Rosarius on my belt. I wouldn't tank even a Knight with my feeble faith, but Astartes were two steps lower on the danger scale, with dreadnoughts and Sentinels in between.
I was probably safe, unlike the faithless Inquisitor. I mean, even an Angel came to my help once, although I surely repaid that debt by killing Lorgar and saving him another frayed body or soul.
"You seem curiously happy, going to meet a hostile Company of Blood Angels." Captain Thrasius commented after checking his bolter again.
"You should be too, my friend. I bet you have never killed an Inquisitor before, right?" I asked rhetorically.
You never heard of people offing full Inquisitors. Those guys could battle Daemon Princes in hand to hand. Chaff like a Rogue Trader wouldn't even register as a threat.
Then I arrived at the hangar deck, and pushed through the angry guardsmen who were ready to open up on the Blood Angels with melta guns and krak missiles. And possibly other weapons not registered.
"It's the Captain!"
"Make way, wanna get roasted by accident?"
"Now these traitors will pay!"
I emerged among the huge Ogryns, all holding their adamantium shields and staves menacingly.
"Good jobs, big guys. Let me talk with your smaller cousins." I spoke on the vox bead and stepped out as the Ogryns made a path for me.
"Lord Lancefire, we were deceived..." the Librarian began in a pleading tone.
"I know you were, Astartes. You don't seem very sorry though, threatening my people and all." I spoke while walking right in his face.
"Perhaps we could talk in private, Lord Lancefire?" he begged in a softer tone.
I nodded and walked past him. "Magos, you found the source?" I asked my Biologis expert, standing over a slightly dissected Arkio.
"It is not curable, Captain. In fact, it has been getting worse...since the traitor died." he explained while waving a tentacle for urgency.
I turned towards the Librarian, who seemed to be in charge. "Take him to your barge. I would offer him mercy, but I don't have any. May the Emperor save his soul."
"May I ask you to accompany us? The Captain asks every minute to speak to you. And Brother Ludvaius." he whispered in a low voice.
"Captain Thrasius, you are to return to Ultramar and enact revenge, if I don't return." I commanded and patted his shoulder.
"As you say, Lord Pef. There will be no place for the traitors to hide." he spoke sternly and departed without looking back.
I ignored the outraged looks of the Blood Angels and walked on, and entered their nice Stormbird lander.
I could use a few more like this one. Nobody made them, like they did in the old days.
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