Chapter 67: Chapter 9 Part 5
Chapter 9: Storm-front
=ATBS=
Part 5
=ATBS=
Victory Bay
Kronus
As an Inquisitor, torture was something to be embraced. Applied right, it could loosen tongues, reveal secrets, and of course, not only punish the enemies of the Empire but serve as a deterrent for the endless masses of Humanity. Because let us be honest, there were days when it appeared that people were willing to gleefully outdo each other in their race to fall into heresy or the hands of the alien.
Further, it simply wouldn't do to get close and really try to get into the head of a suspect or confirmed traitor – that way lay madness, heresy, and a fate worse than death… and it wouldn't do for people to think you are too soft or chummy with your interrogation subjects. Being open-minded, either about their actions or the reasons behind them, being sympathetic, that was counterproductive at best, endangering your very soul and countless others at worst. An open mind was a fortress with its doors thrown wide open and a battleship-sized blinking sign inviting all kinds of nasties inside, my trainers were very clear and emphatic about that.
Yet, despite all that, there was a small part of me more than uncomfortable with my handiwork, even worse, it kept screaming at me that this was wrong and unnecessary, even when presented with evidence to the contrary. This was a disturbing turn of events, one that didn't increase my chances of survival when we made contact with the Imperium at large.
It didn't help that while pain and threats helped disrupt my interogee's mental defenses so I could ravage his mind, I kept struggling with that damn voice in my head and constant conflict between revulsion, and the satisfaction with a job well done. By the Emperor, I likely needed my head examined and I wasn't looking forward to figuring out what was wrong with me! This simply wouldn't do!
I shook my head in a futile attempt to clear it of pesky distractions and looked around. A Servo-Skull floated in a corner of the interrogation room, chattering excitedly in binary, burning blessed incense and most importantly, writing down what I dictated while browsing through Joachim's mind.
"Let me see what you wrote," I ordered the Servo-Skull, which chattered unhappily at me, floated back towards the ceiling, and gave off the impression it was possessive of the parchment held within its small metal claws. "Don't give me this shit, the parchment now, or no blessed oils for you for at least a week."
The Servo-Skull gave out a piercing shriek of indignation, and I was sure I didn't endear myself with its machine spirit, something it might even complain to the next Tech-Priest it met if it could anyway, but finally complied.
I snatched up the parchment before the Mechanicus toy could change its mind and gave it a look over. Everything looked in order, it was written in a neat precise script that was better than mine ever. I glowered at the infuriating device, which smugly chirped at me and offered the transcript to Weber.
"Make good use of this and make sure we get everyone in Victory Bay or it's vicinity. We've got our work cut out for us."
"I won't disappoint you, Inquisitor!" Weber preened at me.
"I know you won't. Nice work with that blow-torch. It seems you're fond of using cleansing flames." I asked idly, fishing for information. On this one I kind of agreed with that grumbling and offended voice in my head – I needed to know if what I just witnessed on the Commissar's part was merely an act or his true self revealed.
"Thank you, sir!" Charles preened like a peacock…
I had no idea what that was. I needed my head examined post-haste, or better not because doing so might get me shot or worse. Then again, not getting it examined when I knew there was something wrong could be worse in the long run…
"It's because of my mum! She's a Sister of Battle and very fond of flamers, Inferno Pistols, well everything and anything that can bathe heretics in holly cleansing flames!" Weber explained happily. "I remember my first toy, it was a replica Inferno Pistol mum put in my hands in the cradle!"
"Your mother sounds like a good woman…" I said while struggling with conflicting feelings over this morsel of information. Well, it wasn't exactly unknown for Sisters of Battle to have sex, children and sometimes even marry and have proper families, when not running around burning people for sins real or imaginable. On the other hand, others did live up to being Bolter Bitches and self-proclaimed Brides of the Emperor, as if he would have trouble getting laid if he ever got up from the Golden Throne and found a bit of spare time…
I frowned at that weird tangent my mind went on, vowed to get the Magos-Biologis to look at my head and anything wrong with it because, for all I knew, I was under the influence of some weird Eldar shit right now. However, first I had unfinished business here.
"Lord Ignatius Joachim, by the Holy Authority granted to my office by his Divine Majesty the Emperor and the High Lords of Terra, I find you guilty of sedition, corruption, conspiring with the enemies of Humanity and enabling their damned agendas. I find you guilty of leading the servants of the Emperor astray, of wasting the Imperium's resources, and of being an insufferable, arrogant bastard. The sentence is death to be carried immediately by yours truly." With the formalities out of the way, I drew my Las-pistol and shot him between the eyes, turning most of his head into a smoking mess.
"Well done, Inquisitor, I couldn't have done it better myself!" Weber happily announced his approval.
"Don't you have people to arrest, Commissar?"
"I do, my Lord Inquisitor!" Charles saluted and strutted out of the interrogation room a happy man.
Me on the other hand? I put back my gun in its holster and headed for the clinic being investigated to find my kind-of buddy Karom and get my head scanned to the Warp and back.
=MK=
A few hours and a ton of reports to read through later, Karom-Beta-31 ushered me into an examination room full of all kinds of medical equipment, some of which was much scarier than even the most wicked interrogation implements I found below the Arbiter's HQ.
"I understand you need an examination, Inquisitor?" The Martian sounded disturbingly happy at the prospect.
"Yes and now that we're pretty sure this place isn't a hive of cultist activity but just your average incompetence and corruption, you can proceed with it," I confirmed.
As it turned out, this time around we did catch a break – an in-depth, if fast, the examination of the place and a round of quick, for once rather tame interrogations with both chemical and Psyker support, confirmed that the clinic's director and half of his senior staff were merely a bunch of corrupt bastards, who happily closed their eyes when paid, sold medicine to the highest bidder while writing it off as used to treat troopers, especially the Ogryns, who practically did need a lot of drugs when they needed them at all given their size and resilience.
The bastards saw nothing wrong at it because those were only grunts, thus lower than dirt and the Ogryns were fucking mutants you see. Well, fuck them all. I did make a brief check carefully using my powers, and the drugged officials offered no resistance, thus confirming the interrogation results Karom and his people got. After that the outcome was obvious – it was off to the firing squad with the bastards and I made sure that said firing squad would be drawn from our resident Ogryns, who would be using shotguns at long range.
For once, since this damned day began, that infernal voice in my head wasn't muttering off at me, instead, I got the vague sense of agreement, something that caused a lot of mixed feelings…
I explained my issues briefly and succinctly to Karom-Beta-31, who towered above the examination table where he had me sit down. A lot of mechadendrites waved happily around while he consulted a data-slate.
"Lay back, Inquisitor, I need to take a few scans of your brain and run a few more tests on your blood to see if the Eldars managed to tag you with something nasty." Despite his synthetic voice, the Cog-boy managed to sound gleeful at the prospect to play with some nasty alien drug or toxin at my expense. "And if we're lucky, it might be something rarer and stranger still…" He added happily.
And I was beginning to think that taking my chances with not reporting my issues and waiting for the reinforcements to arrive might have been the smarter thing to do...
Weekly Power Status
-- Power
Ranking 
-- Power
stone