NationStates Jolt Archive

The Imperium is vast; a body comprising countless worlds and moons; orbitting any number of different suns; each bathed in a different sort of light. While some, like Chronosia Prime, orbit seething balls of energy that spit and hiss like serpents; and languish forever in the embrace of the Warp; reshaped by whatever cruel Emperor hold it's throne; others, like the distant forgeworld of Hydran VI, sit like stoic, slumbering sentinals; under the gleam of bluish balls of cold fire; burning slowly in fusion reactions that will span the better part of a hundred millenia...Perhaps.

The Imperium, as many know, is unified by the worship of Chaos; the Four Gods of the Warp. While some endulge their carnal lusts under Slaanesh, others venerate rampant death and disease in service of Nurgle. While some seek bloodlust everlasting through the worship of Khorne; others plumb the secrets of sorcery and the warp itself as disciples of the ever-changing Tzeentch. Many creeds, form one religion; held together by the sway of the Immortal God-Emperor himself; Remiel; he who is Scion of Chaos; he lord of Chaos Ascendant. And he has a hand which steadies the faith; which polices against threats both internal and external.

THE INQUISITION

And now they are once again called into action; as a threat rears its head within the Imperium. This is merely the beginning. This is merely the origin of a larger threat. This...is the grim darkness of eternal War.
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The chants rose from the underground auditorium; rising in fervent worship; not to Chaos; not to the Emperor, but to the Imperium of Old. Hear them venerate on sickened tongues, the Lapdogs of the Lion! Hear them worship the Sons of Russ! Hear them wish to be the Unforgiven! Hear them pray to the Emperor, hear them beg Sanguinus for his Mercy! |Hear foul heresy spill from their cracked and fetid lips; oh hear them....

He leant forward; crouched like the gargoyles that line the subterranean chamber; peering down at the circle of cultists adorned like Imperial Ecclesiarchs; whorish figures, dancing and screaming and moaning; as though their devotions evoke some pleasure he cannot see nor fathom.

He is Ezekial; Lord Inquisitor General; a season veteran of a thousand campaigns, whose retinue is well-known; whose former apprentices are revered heroes of the Imperium in their own right. He who fights for Chaos, and Chaos alone; he who serves Remiel as nothing less than an instrument of investigation and slaughter; his iron fist. His avenger.

His hand grasps the bolter, raising it as he stands; his cloaks billowing, his hood blowing back from his head; the flashes of gleaming blue eyes; of black hair fading into grey, perhaps white around the edges. He lets the hood fall back; he gives a silent psychic signal; shadows dancing about the upper ring of the chamber; as he leaps down, voice bellowing, alive with focussed psychic willpower; invading those weak-minds.

"IMPERIAL INQUISITION; ON YOUR KNEES, DOGS!"

Some think he is an inquisitor as of old, and fall to their knees in supplication; others are forced there by their weakened minds; undone by his sheer psychic force. The rest reach shakily for weapons; a lasgun blast hurtling by his head as he drops; hitting the ground, kneeling and openign fire; cutting down the first line of cultists forced to their knees; tearing the limb out from one of the attackers; watching him scream, falling in a gout of blood; sliding on the floor. It runs with blood, pools of it forming beneath ruptured bodies. He slams his hand against his wrist; and his retinue recieve the signal, leaping down; Black Order Space Marines leap forward; weapons roaring , even as the explosives detonate; the walkways behind them exploding to dust and flame; toppling upon the Cultists. He sees something gleam in the shadows, pushing away down a corridor, following; forcing himself onwards; his voice echoing once again. "IN THE NAME OF THE EMPEROR, STOP!"

And then he comes to it; the vast open chamber; he hears of thumping; turning to see the tunnel cave in, segment by segment. A voice crackles over his vox "Lord Ezekial! The tunnel has caved in; where are you-"

But Ezekial does not speak; he almost cannot; gazing at the figure who stands before him; armor gleaming white and red, adorned with purity seals. An uncorrupted Marine of the Angelus Invictus.

"Heretic.." Ezekial snarls, reaching behind him to slid the Daemonhammer from its bindings. "You will pay for your betrayal of the Emperor, and the Imperium..."

"I have served my Emperor. I will serve him still by exterminating you, Filth..." He grasps his head, hissing, snarling as he lunges forward; chainsword whirring, bolter firing; as Ezekial dodges to the side, slamming his hammer towards his foe; a bullet grazing his arm as he smashes the hammer into the side of the rogue Marine; armor denting; injury following; a rough moan, as the Chainsword comes down in furious anger. Ezekial moves like a cat, ducking, diving, the shaft of the hammer slammed into the Marine's thighs; driving him down; a swift knee sending him sprawling into the dust, as Ezekial rises, towering over him.

"What...What are you..." It hisses; this Traitor Marine to Chaos; watching the Inquisitor with hateful eyes, tears of spite dripping.

"I am Ezekial; Inquisitor of the Black Throne. Servant of the true Gods and the true Emperor...Who do you serve?" He forces his mind against the Marine's; tearing aside memory and thought; seeking...

The Marine struggles, convulsing; blood pouring from his eyes, his nose, his ears; his mouth. He's drowning in his own blood; screaming, trying to pronounce something. Something undilutedly powerful, something evil and terrible crosses the connection between them, driving Ezekial from his mind; whirling as the Marine dies; screaming and ranting in some alien tongue. He looks up, and above; in the upper cloisters; it gazes at him; a shadow, eyes gleaming like colored glass; watching him.

Death Inquisitor! Death, but not for you...Death for your entire benighted order! Death and Vengence! The pawn served his course but now...

It gestured; and psychic force wracked the room, energy crackling as the ceiling began to crack and crumble; Ezekial moved; diving under one of the archways, plunging into a tunnel, heading up; he had to trap the puppet-master behind this debacle; he had to escape. He spun about; the ground behind him was exploding upwards; then falling away to nothing. What was this thing capable of; a psyker of such force! He ran, higher and higher; his vox flaring as he bellowed orders. "Immediate evacuation to street level; the entire place is going! Get out of here!"

High above...The street began to buckle; the ground began to shake...

John only could hide the shock he got for the death of the pure marine. John may have been thousands of lightyears away, but the impact far to evident on his face. John Being a Guardian-of-Light was extremely sensitive to this kind of thing. John was sleeping, woke from his deep slumber in cold sweat, heart beating fast and mad. John held his head to dull the pain he felt. Visions of what transpired flashed violently in his mind. Then nothing. John got out of his bed and walked over to a Chrono-mirrior, and looked at himself, His skin pale, and sickly, his step weavering. John finally regained his strength and went to ponder on what he had saw. John opened the door to his house and waled to the Dime-gate and jumped to the Hobbeebian Royal Palace. There he would find the answers he wanted. A second later John stepped out walking to a restricted dime gate and jumped to the Guardian realm, a place of pure light and warriors that protected it. Thier he kept his closest ally, his biomech " John " which shown with bright lights and the shimmering rainbow glimmer that shown from his wings. John only walked over and tounched the warm metal of his friend and told him of his dream. His Biomech was sad and hurt for the lose of a warrior. Then anger took him making him thrash about wanting to kill the ones who killed. John could only calm him and try to discover the reason.

" I dont understand John. My vision must be ixed- I saw a Chronosian Inquisitor, fighting this being of light, in a Chronosian land. it makes no sense.."

John could never understand what he saw until his friend spoke...

" John it maybe, that the Inquisitor was trying to destroy the being to hold the ideals of chaos. We biomechs are shown fighters against the Chaos and We have seen many things that have shown us that the religion of chaos is not perfect..."

John pondered on what his friend had revealed. The idea that the Chaos, they worship may have another supernatural enemy. One more ally to help fight....

John was now ready to get to the bottom of what was happening. John took control of his biomech and landedthe coordinates in his dime-gate generators and after the flash of bright light he was gone.....

John finally arrived at to what would seem to be nothing but empty space. John used this section of the hobbebian Empire for one thing.- Warm ups.

John used the empty space for many things but he like to warm up. He would punch and kick to make sure everyhing was working right, then he would use each weapon to make sure they worked, Then he would test his Class 10 weapons like his white nova blast, his white nova scream, and his white plamsa Flamethrower. Then he would attack Astroids for fun, using his Guadian slash of Victory to cut them into two evenly cut sides.Punching them and shattering thier useles existence , then he would find a small planet and after making sure no lifew was there, he would destroy it with a small white nova to test the power level. John was satified with the preformance, and set out to find his answers.....

http://img.photobucket.com/albums/v734/hobbeeb/The_death_of_a_planet.jpg

bump for activity

Marlin leaned back in his chair topside, monitoring the vox frequencies and running overwatch with some PRA gadgetry. He smiled as he heard the Lord Inquisitor bellowing orders at his heretics, the resulting gunfire as the idiots resisted. His smile wavered for a moment as the microcams noted the renegade Astartes, explosions rocking the cavern. The spy-eyes scattered as massive chunks of stone rained down around them. He keyed his voxcaster, trying to contact Ezekial.

"Lord Ezekial! The tunnel has collapsed, where are you? The place won't hold for long, you need to get out of there!"

The only response was static, even from his spy-eyes. He loosened his laspistol, and fiddled with the controls, trying to boost vox power enough to reach his boss. For more than a minute, he got nothing but static. Then finally, the voice of his Inquisitor.

"Immediate evacuation to street level; the entire place is going! Get out of here!"

Marlin sighed, exasperated, as he grabbed up his equipment and dashed for the street.

"I tried to tell you earlier, boss, but the damn rocks must have interfered with the voxes. Get your ass out of there, I'm fine for the moment. I'll grab my gunship and get back here, see if I can't take down any stragglers."

He raced into the street, juking around rapidly opening cracks in the ground, putting lasbolts into fleeing cultists. He raced around a corner, and slid into the cockpit of his gunboat. He flicked the preflight controls, and the smallcraft rocketed into the air, its turrets covering the area around the hidden cult lair. The speakers mounted on the outside of the ship blared to life.

"IMPERIAL INQUISITION! REMAIN WHERE YOU ARE! LAY DOWN YOUR WEAPONS!"

John got another surge of pain from the continuing inquisition. John now knew that the chronosians where responsible. But thier was nothing John could do. For he was still Hobbeebian and that means he can enter unless they let him in. John got to the space boarder, and only waited for someone to look at him the wrong way. It wuold give him reason enough to enter the boarder. But it would take up until then to do so. John cursed inside his cockpit and charged his guardian claws and sent shockwaves of high energy impulses through normal space and the slipstream, hoping it would get someones attention.

The Chronosian border defence stations whirred to life; weapons training, scanners crackling; seething forth against the stranger; to know him intimately, to know his orgin; his make up. The void seemed alive with static, whirring waves of data and information; a cacophany of countless statistics.

Unidentified Xeno; state your origin and purpose, pending access to Imperial space. Any resistance or refusal to comply shall be met with brute force. You have ten traditional Terran minutes to comply

Far across the galactic plane, Ezekial emerged to street level; a blast from one crackling plasma pistol tearing a heretics legs out from under him; his stride never broken as he advanced; slamming the gun into the base of the fiends skull and firing. He whirled about raising a hand to touch his vox-caster; letting his voice boom to Jason. It had been some years since the incident with Heinrich, and his conscription of Marlin as a semi-permanent agent of his retinue and general eyes and ears across the vastness of the galaxy; granting him a begrudging respect for the smuggler.

"Status report; strategic overview. I want locations of the cultists and their assets; I want immediate action against their positions. Swift justice from above; I trust you know the dealo by now, boy" He smirked, laughing lightly despite the midst of this situation. He enjoyed teasing Marlin; implying inexperience and youth next to his seasoned life of age, experience, battle and power.

OOC: Time to get nasty :)

John got the message from the defense stations and kindly replied

" I am Supreme Master General John Rynx of the Hobbeebian
Guardians-of-Light. Requesting permission to enter your boarders?"

John waited for the reply....

John continued to wait johns mind wondered as he continued his mission to discover what had happened, and why. John agian replied.

I am Supreme Master General John Rynx of the Hobbeebian
Guardians-of-Light. Requesting permission to enter your boarders?"


john waited for the response. He prayed that it would be one he liked.

Hobbeebian Emissiary; state your business within the Imperium. You are ordered to wait, pending armed escort. This depends upon the integrity of your voyage. The Imperium is at war; such risks are not to be taken during times of conflict.

The Imperial Guardsmen manning the Border Station sent forth the correct communications; awaiting inbound Chronosian Raider craft. One drew his hand across his clamy brow; sweat staining it, making his black hair lie lank across his forehead; his eyes wide; not unfocussed; but attentive. He awaited the backup troops; while his men manned their posts; prepared to fire at a moments notice.

John recieved the message, not what he would have like but it would do. John clamly replied

"I am here to investigate into you inquisition. I by no means am going to try to stop you, but there is some information I seek. And it lies within your lands. agian my purpose is not hostile."

john would have to wait, for now, at least until they repled. John only hoped that they would let him in. He needed to know. John had not been the type to start anything, but if they didn'y let him in, he would try another "form" of diplomacy..... John did not want it to come to such so he downed down his claws and showed that he meant no hostilities.


OOC: do you have MSN?

OOC: Marc_C_C@hotmail.com

OOC: Hobbeebian@hotmail.com

bump

Enter and prepare to be escorted; the workings of the Inquisition are not to be known by you; nor shall you interfere with their divine work. Are we understood?

The vessels roared from the warp; Iconoclast raiders; their weapons trained upon the lone biomech. Hobeebian Delegate; you shall comply with Imperial demands; only then shall you be granted access to Imperial Space. Forgive the harsh measures; but we are at war

" Fine. I understand. " said John as he saw the escorts appear in front of him. John just thought to him self

" It would be all to easy...."

John had already powered down his weapons and followed the escorts. Maybe he would learn something from them.....So john asked.

" So, This Inquisition. Who have you killed in its name? No one who carried a glow of light...?"

"Depends on your definition of light. The Inquisition purges Xenos, Heretics and Rebels; Lord Remiel has made it clear that no threat to the Imperium can be allowed to grow without or fester within. The remenants of the Old Chronosia; the Azahan rebels and sponsered seperatists; Cultists of the Emperor; countless alien foes; all prey to the most Holy Inquisition and the judgement of the Gods"

John made his request more to the point.

" I mean like a Glowing figure or a soldier of Light. One that Glows with lights?" asked john maybe he would discover who or what was killed.

John whated to show what he meant but I was hard to discribe.

The pilots thumbed controls; speaking in encoded words before the Hobeebian finally recieved a reply; from somewhere far across Chronosian territory.

"And what would you know about that?" The gravely voice of Inquisitor Ezekial hissed. "You refer to an event of great and portentous happening" A crackle as gunfire echoed across the comms; a scream; a bellow of psychic rage. Ezekial tore a cultist in two with barely a gesture, before turning his attention back to the Hobeebian. "And somehow you know of this? Of my Work? Of my Quest?"

John knew the voice. It was in his dream. John could see him now as he killed the cultist.

" You, Dark Inqusitor Ezekial. You killed him. I saw you. I am a warrior of all that is good and true. You a warrior of the dark and chaotic. I feel pain that you cause. " replied John.

"How truly interesting; but that can wait...I have cultists to kill; cultists who would sunder the glory of organisation; of my Empire. I have a mission to fulill; a duty to uphold. I do what I must; as I am sure you do." He sighed, leaping across a pile of rubble; glancing about; weapons readied.

"You call me evil; dark; you are correct; but I believe in what I do. It has purpose; it serves my Gods; I take strength in them, they aid me; fuel me...To serve them; is to be one step closer to perfection; to glory. To Godhood itself. Do you know how long I have done this? How much I have endured? I have cleansed worlds for heresy; I have scoured alien empires clean; I have burned heretics at the stake and impaled their heads upon pikes for all to see. This is our justice."

"Status report; strategic overview. I want locations of the cultists and their assets; I want immediate action against their positions. Swift justice from above; I trust you know the dealo by now, boy" He smirked, laughing lightly despite the midst of this situation. He enjoyed teasing Marlin; implying inexperience and youth next to his seasoned life of age, experience, battle and power.

"I copy, you old coot. Feeding data to you now."

Flicking a switch, he began to rattle off coordinates of cultists, occasionally strafing them with a barrage of autocannon fire, spraying their remains across the streets. He juked right as a hail of bolts rattled across his ship, the unmistakable sound of the mass reactive rounds blowing chunks out of his hull making him cringe. Flipping a switch, he armed his Hellfire bolters and rocketed past the cultists. Swinging the gunship around, Marlin saw a pair of cultists, frantically trying to bring their heavy bolter around to hit the gunship.

"Trying to feth with my ship? That one hurts, man, that really hurts!"

With a grin, he squeezed the trigger, sending a hail of hellfire rounds into the cultists, the rounds bursting in a hail of razor sharp needles. They screamed as their flesh quickly began to swell and twist, popping blisters spraying blood across the walls. Within seconds, the emplacement was a blood-soaked mess, the weapon ruined by the potent acids.

"Hey man, not my fault. You shot at me in the first place."

Swinging back around, he resumed the hunt.

" As do I. I serve my God, and my Empire. You see we are alike. Just on two different sides. I understand when you say these things for I have done the same. I have been aiding my Empire for 300 years. I still dont look a day over 29. It is my curse. To forever fight. This Biomech serves me in to ways- my curse, it keeps me young to forever fight. And It keeps me young to forever fight for my Nation and my God. why is it that you must kill those of the light and burn those who have differences. They need not to die."

replied John in a sad tone as he flashes back to the times of wipping planets form the known, and hearing the screams of those who he has killed.

Bump-waiting.....

You know nothing of the workings of the Inquistion; Hobbeebian; of the sacrifices that must be made that the Imperium can endure in glorious service to Chaos. What would you know of sacrifices that must be made; of roads that must be taken, that serve the whole rather than the individual? What I do, I do that all my kin might live without fear; might live, their minds freed by the infinite power of the Warp

" I know of sacrifice. I do it everyday. And I know what its like to work for a greater purpose, a purpose greater then any one person. But in doing this I have claimed to my place in the hell we call life! Our poeple have a saying:

" In times of great struggle, in the events of hardship, there will be one who rises to to lead, one to carry a torch of power and strength. For without them, the nation is doomed."

" You see Remiel(SP), no matter how " all for common good " you may be, you hold Chronosia's torch. The people look to you and they see what I see. You are not such a common good do'er as you think. " said John as he contined to follow the sentry to see Remiel.

I fight not for any common good, save the glory of the gods and the continued existence of the Imperium. One cannot ignore all the toil and blood I have poured into this endeavor, nor doubt my commitment to unrivalled Chaos. I serve my Gods, and I serve them well.

Soon, when all the stars are in upheaval and all the galaxy burns for wanton spite, I shall emerge and lead mankind forward. Only though Chaos might they endure; only through me might they know hope and salvation. The new Man shall rise and strike aside the ruins of the old Race; only then, only at that moment, that shimmering moment shall all truths be recognised and balance be cast down.

Again, you prove you know nothing but assumptions. Wisest, brother, is he who knows he knows nothing

"Then Explain to me how you can fight for no common good, and yet fight for he Imperium. If you, yourself fight for that then that would be your common good. Also why must man survive with Choas, Why not order? Your gods are destructive. What Kind of leadership comes from destruction. " Asked John. He had a hard time grasping how this " Chaos " could hold sopmeone so strongly, when it itself preaches destruction. Was this wapred reality really so enticing?

Consider that I fight for Faith. I pledge myself utterly to the glory of Chaos; not a greater good, but a higher calling; a new state of Grace. The Gods reward those who serve them with power and glory; nothing as fleetingly sentimental as noble notions of Greater Good.

Chaos was here before man crawled from the primordial sludge of his fetid birth; Chaos will outlast mankind and consume the Universe. It is the natural state, the only true state that all must return to; all flesh must know the glories of Entropy; the fetid taste of mortality.

But come; we shall have time enough for talk when you are here.

"Agreed, of course it would be easier for me just to go to you now...." Said John as he let his biomech do the work. Questions formed in his head. What did this place look like? How would he be treated once he arrived? What would make someone so devoted to this power? And what would happen if they discovered the power of the biomech that they had control over? Most of the question should be answered when he got there.

" Sentry how much longer ill this journey take?" asked John curious as to how long the trip would take. John was not one to keep waiting....