The Wormhole into the Eden system pulsed, a rainbow of colours exploding
into the ether as the gargantuan battleship traversed into normal
space. Old grey paint covered the majority of its surfaces, as well as
the old banner of the Confederacy. Damage from combat could be seen over
it's hull, scars from past conflicts. Battle commendations going back
year after year etched into the hull, a graphic reminder of the violent
past of the Confederacy. Powerful engines flared and pushed the warship
towards the navigational beacons through the defensive lines of
Brotherhood ships and platforms, screens of fighters and the caressing
tendrils of sensors. In the dying glow of the wormhole a mural across
the front of the ship however proclaimed boldly the existance of the
Caliphate. Slowly, the lines opened and allowed the Emissary through.
Inquisitor
D'Morenta and her closest aides sat in conference. Planetary survey
maps covered the table, stacks of statistics on mineral yields, lists of
lifeforms, political and sociological ethnotyping of populations. A
heavy tome of prayer was open on a lectern and an initiate was reading
to the room, a background echo of the piety of the cathedral complex
they sat. She rubbed a gloved hand over her face and dropped a survey
log onto the table.
"This is getting us no where. These records are four, five years old. Some of them older."
"It's
all we have." Sister Marchessa picked up a piece of burnt parchment
with a sketch of a Hive Queen. "A lot of our records were lost during
the....."
"Please, we don't talk about those times." A grizzled
warrior in a monks robes worked his rosary slowly, muttering
occasionally under his breath. "Inquisitor, we just need to get more
ships and groups out surveying the planets."
"All of which costs money."
"We
have the initiates, and we have the locations. We just need your
blessing, with results we will be able bring more wealth into the
coffers and fund more exploration."
"Fine, you have my blessing. Next
order of business. The Caliphate. Gregor, put down the rosary and tell
me what your spies have told you."
"It's not good...."
The
Caliphate battleship landed and disgorged five men. A tall figure,
wearing heavy silken robes followed by four veteran soldiers, all
wearing the personal clan sigil of Darius walked towards the security
entrance to the colony. A flourishing of a sheaf of papers and security
passes allowed them through every single door and entrance. Word passed
through the colony to the cathedral, an Emissary had arrived.
Carmilla
brushed a speck of dust from her habit and nodded at the report. It was
as if there was a madness encircling the Caliphate. The Confederate
Offficers who she had helped escape had said the same thing. Something
was different, something not right. It was lucky, she thought, that
Pyros was in charge. His decisions were at least more reasonable. She
looked up as she heard a commotion outside the door and turned around,
one hand slipping under the table. Two of the guards in the room were
listening to their comms while others readied their weapons. She raised
her hand to stop Gregor and waited. The door opened, and was closed by
the caliphate marines.
With almost feigned indifference she
watched the man walk in. Cool, calm, dangerous. Like a shark, pure
predator. Slowly she moved her hand back up onto the table and nodded to
the man. Here was a man to be afraid of, a man that held the power of
life and death over anyone and everyone in the Caliphate. Titus. The
Assassin Emissary.
"Salaam, Inquisitor D'Morenta. I bring greetings from the Caliphe and the Lord Inquisitor."
He pulled the sheaf of papers out and and selected one, handing it to her. It was addressed, in heavy gothic script, to her.
"You are ordered hence forth to make your presence before the Caliphe in three days. The location is in the...."
Gregor pulled himself to his feet and slammed a fist onto the table.
"The Caliphe does not order here! This is a sanctuary, a holy place. Only the Lord Inquisitor can order an Inquisitor..."
"Gregor...."
"No, this man is filth. I know him. Assassin. Beast!"
"You
honour me too much. But I am not here for you. Inquisitor D'Morenta,
you have three days. The penalty for disobedience will be severe."
"Oh Titus, you do have a flamboyance about you. Three days? It's not enough time. I need five."
"And
yet you have only three. There is no flexibility, no leeway, no
begging. Your ruler and your Lord Inquisitor demand your presence. I am
baffled why we are even having this conversation. Are not monks and nuns
just supposed to... obey?"
"We do. We obey just fine," Carmilla
stood up and smoothed down her habit, "But we obey the True One. Not the
Caliphe. However, he is one of Gods children, so we will be humble and
come and visit. You may go Titus, you have fulfilled your requirements."
Carmilla bowed to the Assassin Emissary and watched him depart. Gregor sneers and spat after him.
"Yes Gregor, I see you were right about them. We must be cautious."
"Pah, he is lucky I didn't put a bullet in him!"
"We are lucky you didn't. They would wipe out our sect without even blinking. They have the power, we have the faith."
"Doesn't that make us stronger?"
"Oh yes.... but faith doesn't stop photon guns from raining down death on out colonies."
Three Days Later
Inquisitor
D'Morenta stormed down the Emperors corridor in the Caliphate capital,
her entourage struggling to keep up. From behind her the sounds of
arguing from the council chamber. The Assassin Emissary caught up with
her and grabbed her shoulder.
"Inquisitor, that was not dignified!"
"Bullshit Titus! That's not how things should be done, that was a damn witch hunt!"
"The FET knew what they were doing....."
She looked up at him and pointed a finger at him.
"Titus the Confederacy is larger than just one person!"
"Carmilla," he sighed softly, "Do you believe that, or is it your father speaking?"
Her
hand lashed out, slapping his face with a loud crack that even turned
the heads of the guards along the corridor. She shrugged and nodded and
looked up at him.
"Oh Titus, I'm sorry. I guess you are right. The Caliphate rules now, I guess I should stop living in my fathers shadow."
"I
think that this is just a bit larger than that. The Lord Inquisitor
needs you and you... just stormed out in a fit of girlish pique?"
Carmilla
walked back into the council chamber and found the Lord Inquisitor,
Pyros sitting there in quiet contemplation. The other delegates and
leaders were still rowing.
"You are too impetuous."
"Yes my Lord."
"You will obey the Caliphe, he is the leader of our Alliance."
"Yes my Lord."
"And you will support the Caliphate by pledging your holy system to them."
He raised a hand to her.
"And the words you should be speaking now are 'Yes my Lord'."
"Yes.... my Lord. I will follow your lead, myself and my whole sect."
"Good.
Now before I send you to your quarters and repeat the Prayer of
Obedience fifty times, you will sit and watch and listen. And maybe you
will learn something."
"What am I watching?"
"Now that is a good question. You can answer it after they stop shouting."
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