Vexing
2013-01-30, 01:50 AM
Imperator Non Inridetur
Act I: Beati Pacifici
"ND0/K4"
The dry, rustling sound of moving paper filled the air as the dossier revealed its secrets, Dreschner's expression inscrutable as he scanned the parchment, digesting the information behind his dark eyes. Minutes uncounted passed in relative silence in the confines of the study-office, broken only by the whisk of paper in motion or the faint scratch of a finger tip pulling back a new page.
And then...
"Ah". The Inquisitor's voice was not unlike the paper he handled, quiet and faintly rasping as he methodically placed individual papers about the desk. In short order, piles of varying size began to appear seemingly at random as off-white pages began to obscure the desktop.
"It's a gas giant, tucked away in the bowels of Golgenna. Next closest planet is...Iocanthus," he offered to the six figures gathered in the uncomfortably cramped space before his place of work. Everything was done in sombre colors and crafted of dark woods, from the wall panels and floorboards to the great desk itself. In combination with a very dim set of glowglobes set into the high ceiling, it lent a cavernous feel to the area despite the close-set walls. There were two articles of furniture, and of those two, only one chair.
This was intentional, of course.
"The planet itself is, obviously, uninhabitable. There are three low-orbit platforms from which gas extraction and compression is done, overseen by the Cult Mechanicus. This gas harvest is shipped out to the Imperium at large, for use in industrial processing by Forge and Hive alike. The Cult is by far the largest power group of the stations, and as such, everything moves according to the Omnissiah's will. Tithing is regular as the Black Ships, work hours are managed down to the second, and rationing is done precisely to the needs of each platform. Like clockwork."
A ghost of a smile flickered onto Dreschner's face as he placed the last page carefully in front of him, pausing to steeple his fingers before looking ahead into the group of Acolytes. "All of these things were true once, but no longer. Clockwork needs maintenance and--ave Imperator--I am in a position to order its upkeep and repair. The tithe has fallen short of its traditional goals in months past, which is worrying enough, but the Ecclesiarchy has also informed me of more...disturbing developments."
"While the rationing of food and water is a necessity of life on the stations, there have been riots of increasing intensity in the past few months for a greater share of food by disgruntled dockworkers. This has slowed productivity immensely. The Cult Mechanicus throws the blame of fomenting rebellion and encouraging unrest squarely at the Ministorum's feet; the two administrations scrap for territory in the hearts and minds of the station workers with a zeal to put any Hive ganger to shame, and the Cult sees this recurring unpleasantness as a ploy on part of the Ecclesiarchy to seize control."
He tapped a single page at the far right corner of the desk. "The Adeptus Ministorum claims innocence in this matter, of course, and in turn points fingers at the Cult Mechanicus for a fairly recent development: almost three standard months ago, Adepts stationed at the world began vanishing. Simply gone into thin air, a difficult feat to do in sealed stations with a running census and monitored spaceports. The majority of the disappearances occur on Platform Secundus, incidentally."
"Your task is two-fold. You are to find the reason for these disappearances and end it promptly. Also, for my own edification, I would know if the Ministorum has been igniting riots. Man is too weak a creature, divided, to stand against the perils of the galaxy; if they are to blame for our disunity, I should like you to sternly remind them of the principles of the Cult that they teach. I encourage you to accomplish these goals as cleanly and quietly as possible, as there's no reason to cause more bad blood between the two and further disrupt things."
"I know you all to be recent additions to the Inquisition. Many of you I encountered or recruited myself. Listen! You were selected because I fully believe that each of you possess the sparks required to light Man's way in the dark, to protect Him from His own shadow and the cravings of His own heart. However...whether your lights will blaze or gutter remains to be seen. You are expected to handle your tasks with faith, determination, and constant vigilance. Remember: 'There is no innocence, only varying degrees of guilt'. Examine everything, question everyone, appraise every motive, including your own and that of your comrades."
"I have arranged transport to and from ND0/K4. When you complete your objectives, you will return and each make a complete and unflinching report."
"The Emperor Protects. Godspeed."
That was almost two weeks ago, just hours before the six of you were equipped and bundled onto the transport vessel, Leap of Faith. The travel was uneventful in every way, Warp jumps went as planned and the Leap arrived safely at the spaceport of Platform Primus. The captain of the vessel, a nervous, sweaty little man named Jerrid Swoln has just unceremoniously deposited you on the docks, where paid workers and other travelers mill about in a great crowd of noise and motion. Dreschner promised that your arrival, at least, would be totally anonymous, allowing you to pursue the mission objectives as your cell sees fit.
Where now, Acolytes?
Act I: Beati Pacifici
"ND0/K4"
The dry, rustling sound of moving paper filled the air as the dossier revealed its secrets, Dreschner's expression inscrutable as he scanned the parchment, digesting the information behind his dark eyes. Minutes uncounted passed in relative silence in the confines of the study-office, broken only by the whisk of paper in motion or the faint scratch of a finger tip pulling back a new page.
And then...
"Ah". The Inquisitor's voice was not unlike the paper he handled, quiet and faintly rasping as he methodically placed individual papers about the desk. In short order, piles of varying size began to appear seemingly at random as off-white pages began to obscure the desktop.
"It's a gas giant, tucked away in the bowels of Golgenna. Next closest planet is...Iocanthus," he offered to the six figures gathered in the uncomfortably cramped space before his place of work. Everything was done in sombre colors and crafted of dark woods, from the wall panels and floorboards to the great desk itself. In combination with a very dim set of glowglobes set into the high ceiling, it lent a cavernous feel to the area despite the close-set walls. There were two articles of furniture, and of those two, only one chair.
This was intentional, of course.
"The planet itself is, obviously, uninhabitable. There are three low-orbit platforms from which gas extraction and compression is done, overseen by the Cult Mechanicus. This gas harvest is shipped out to the Imperium at large, for use in industrial processing by Forge and Hive alike. The Cult is by far the largest power group of the stations, and as such, everything moves according to the Omnissiah's will. Tithing is regular as the Black Ships, work hours are managed down to the second, and rationing is done precisely to the needs of each platform. Like clockwork."
A ghost of a smile flickered onto Dreschner's face as he placed the last page carefully in front of him, pausing to steeple his fingers before looking ahead into the group of Acolytes. "All of these things were true once, but no longer. Clockwork needs maintenance and--ave Imperator--I am in a position to order its upkeep and repair. The tithe has fallen short of its traditional goals in months past, which is worrying enough, but the Ecclesiarchy has also informed me of more...disturbing developments."
"While the rationing of food and water is a necessity of life on the stations, there have been riots of increasing intensity in the past few months for a greater share of food by disgruntled dockworkers. This has slowed productivity immensely. The Cult Mechanicus throws the blame of fomenting rebellion and encouraging unrest squarely at the Ministorum's feet; the two administrations scrap for territory in the hearts and minds of the station workers with a zeal to put any Hive ganger to shame, and the Cult sees this recurring unpleasantness as a ploy on part of the Ecclesiarchy to seize control."
He tapped a single page at the far right corner of the desk. "The Adeptus Ministorum claims innocence in this matter, of course, and in turn points fingers at the Cult Mechanicus for a fairly recent development: almost three standard months ago, Adepts stationed at the world began vanishing. Simply gone into thin air, a difficult feat to do in sealed stations with a running census and monitored spaceports. The majority of the disappearances occur on Platform Secundus, incidentally."
"Your task is two-fold. You are to find the reason for these disappearances and end it promptly. Also, for my own edification, I would know if the Ministorum has been igniting riots. Man is too weak a creature, divided, to stand against the perils of the galaxy; if they are to blame for our disunity, I should like you to sternly remind them of the principles of the Cult that they teach. I encourage you to accomplish these goals as cleanly and quietly as possible, as there's no reason to cause more bad blood between the two and further disrupt things."
"I know you all to be recent additions to the Inquisition. Many of you I encountered or recruited myself. Listen! You were selected because I fully believe that each of you possess the sparks required to light Man's way in the dark, to protect Him from His own shadow and the cravings of His own heart. However...whether your lights will blaze or gutter remains to be seen. You are expected to handle your tasks with faith, determination, and constant vigilance. Remember: 'There is no innocence, only varying degrees of guilt'. Examine everything, question everyone, appraise every motive, including your own and that of your comrades."
"I have arranged transport to and from ND0/K4. When you complete your objectives, you will return and each make a complete and unflinching report."
"The Emperor Protects. Godspeed."
That was almost two weeks ago, just hours before the six of you were equipped and bundled onto the transport vessel, Leap of Faith. The travel was uneventful in every way, Warp jumps went as planned and the Leap arrived safely at the spaceport of Platform Primus. The captain of the vessel, a nervous, sweaty little man named Jerrid Swoln has just unceremoniously deposited you on the docks, where paid workers and other travelers mill about in a great crowd of noise and motion. Dreschner promised that your arrival, at least, would be totally anonymous, allowing you to pursue the mission objectives as your cell sees fit.
Where now, Acolytes?