I received my Rosette today.
My Master has been recalled to Terra. The business on the shrine world Igram was enough of a mess that the Ordo has seen fit to call him for questioning.
I fear for him. I know that he is a good man, and that he has served the Emperor with all good faith, but Igram doesn't look good. The planet is in chaos, a large contingent of Sororitas and Ultramarines struggle to establish order in the midst of the ongoing revolt even now. Master Tivenus and his retinue – myself included – are forbidden from intervening further. A small cabal of our Ordo have taken over the case, and have rather pointedly refused our help.
When I saw the stricken look upon my Master's face, I knew that our careers may well be over. He took me aside before he left, and said, "Your time as an Explicator is over, Alena. I've taught you all you need know. While I still have the power to do so, I shall create you an Inquisitor."
He simply handed me the Rosette. A beautiful thing, simple in design but well-made. A classical design without the ostentatious scrollwork and gemstones favored by inquisitors of noble birth. The Rosette of an Inquisitor who has risen through the ranks on merit.
I didn't feel I deserved it. I still don't. I can't help but feel I am an impostor among inquisitors who rightly deserve the title, the honors, the powers and responsibilities. I should feel empowered by my Rosette, but I am only humbled by it. Challenged by it.
He told me that he'd been holding it for months now, waiting for a time when he could arrange a proper ceremony. The paperwork was all done, I had already been registered on Terra. The confirmation document had come by courier ship weeks ago, half-covered by seals of authority and purity, copies filed at the Hall of Judgement.
It is done. I can't undo it now. I cannot become the acolyte of some other inquisitor, or pass into some other ecclesiastical service, no. Ceremony or no, my fate is now tied to this Rosette.
I am an Inquisitor. May the Emperor help me and guide me.
No one else will. For who can teach an Inquisitor?
Master Tivenus has left. He boarded a black ship bound for Terra this morning.
"Never fear, Alena." he said. "You'll be among the best of us. May the Emperor watch over you."
To me he has left the majority of his retinue. In my command now is the Inquisitorial Cruiser Bellerophon's Wings.
Emperor, why? An entire cruiser is mine to command. Any day now, I'm sure orders from Terra will come, and this ship will be transferred to some inquisitor more deserving.
Or at least someone who knows what they are doing. God-Emperor may those orders come soon. Let me begin my career much more humbly, I would beg of Him.
I have spent my day so far taking inventory of my ship and my retinue. This process may take several days. Even though I have worked aboard this vessel for several years, I find that as the vessel's master, it all becomes so much more complicated.
I have few clerks or bodyguards. Tivenus took most of his personal staff with him, presumably to aid in arguing his case before the Conclave of Terra.
I would have liked to visit Holy Terra. Even if it might have been my head on the pike next to Tivenus's.
I have several scrivener servitors, one of which I am using to record this log as I exercise and perform my ablutions, but scriveners are hardly a substitute for a clever purser or a hard-nosed executive officer. I have many crewmen at my call but nobody I trust to watch my back as yet.
My crew are mostly well-seasoned spacers. Or so the third mate tells me. None more seasoned, of course, than the ship's Captain, Uriel Yates.
Captain Yates is a brusque and impatient man. Properly deferential toward me, as I am now the ranking inquisitor aboard ship, but he is not given to conversation beyond terse reports and sharp acknowledgements of my commands.
So far I have given him only one order: maintain a respectful distance from Igram. He chose to bring us to a supply station at the fringe of the system, and is using this time to gather provisions enough for a long voyage if needed.
Bellerophon's Wings is a substantial vessel. I cannot inspect it all, it is simply too large. I am told it carries a crew of over 45,000 souls. I have in my hands a crew manifest which includes a detailed breakdown of the ship's personnel and military forces.
Of military forces: a full regiment of the Guard led by a colonel Viktor Solvenko, two companies of Adeptus Sororitas, and an attack craft wing largely equipped for ship's defense.
Of particular interest: over four hundred tech-priests of the Mechanicus, several dozen senior officers, two hundred non-officer administrative personnel, two astropaths, and one navigator.
Two astropaths? I had never had cause to speak with them. The document almost implies that they work together. An astropathic duo? Curious.
Today I shall visit the tech-priests and make myself known to them. Then I shall endeavor to tour the quarters of the guardsmen and see to their proper equipage, quartering and training.
Perhaps by stages I can ensure that this vessel is up to standard, so that my replacement may inherit a ship ready for whatever action she may be called to.
One can never tell with tech-priests where one stands with them. Most of those I interviewed seemed annoyed by the interruption to their work.
The engineering section is their domain, one which they regard with holy reverence, and which they do keep clean and in impeccably working order.
So far as I am able to understand, the Mechanicus elements aboard ship are free of heretical influences and are in good order.
Colonel Solvenko was far more welcoming. He seemed glad that someone was taking an interest in the welfare of his guardsmen, in whom he seems to take great pride.
As for training, quartering and equipage; well the Guard can always use more equipment. He promised to send a list of the needful and wanted to the ship's purser, via the third mate.
I did inspect several formations of guardsmen. They seemed alert and ready, but wary of me. I was conscious of their eyes upon my Rosette. As though I might be a danger to them.
All I saw were loyal servants of the Emperor. I said as much, and it seemed to relieve much of the tension in the air. They stood straighter. With pride.
So many mens' morale hung on my words. I feel responsible. A feeling I could never confess to anyone: I feel that I must not let these men down. I can never tell them that I am new to all this. That I don't feel I am one of these sharp, hardened Inquisitors who could smell any whiff of heresy in the air from a mile off, and who could execute dozens or hundreds of heretics on a whim or a hint of suspicion.
Master Tivenus taught me watchfulness, taught me to question what I see, to look into every oddity in an investigation. He counseled an even-handed and cool-headed approach.
"An Inquisitor who goes in shouting and waving a pistol is one who will never see the real heresy before his very nose. He'll never ask the real questions, never search deeply and fully and find the root of the matter."
But once found, the matter must be handled with force.
I have submitted evidence that has sealed mens' fate. Many times. I have extracted confessions from hardened heretics, I have stared madness in its face and dug in my heels until the truth came out. It was my job. I was good at it.
But I've never been on such uncertain ground, lacking direction, lacking any clear mission.
I decided today it was time to change this state of affairs.
The Astropaths are indeed a matched pair. They work together. Twins, I think they are. Both mostly blind, both unnaturally pale, I think they may be albinos. Their chambers are comfortable, they enjoy a large library of books read to them by a servitor that sits upon a pedestal in the center of the room.
The Lichter brothers share much in common, from their abhumanity to their taste in books, but they are very different in disposition.
"How very delightful!" crooned Vergis. "A visit from the former Explicator, now Inquisitor. Please, honored lady Inquisitor, would you take tea with us?"
"How very bothersome," growled Dravis. "We were enjoying our stories, and now we must entertain she who holds our chains!"
"Oh now, brother, please be polite. She means well, can you not sense it?" Vergis seemed all too eager to please, which from anyone else might arouse my suspicion, but I know these Astropaths to have a long and uninterrupted history of honorable service to the Emperor.
Dravis relented with a "hmmph!" and, a sour look upon his face, began making tea in their shared kitchenette.
"I do apologize for my brother," said Vergis, "Dravis is rather tormented. You see, even from a young age, my talent has allowed me to speak to the better natures of men's souls, while all my dear brother seems to see are their darker aspects."
"Hence your partnership, I presume?"
Vergis bowed politely, not quite in my direction. "Just so."
Dravis brought a steaming cup of tea to me. It smelled sweetly of exotic herbs, and was quite good.
He gave another rough grunt as I thanked him. "She's not as bad as most."
Vergis smiled brightly. "Oh, that's high praise, coming from him!"
Abhumans generally make me uneasy. Psykers of any brand especially so. These Astropaths certainly did not put me at ease, but my instincts found nothing but bare honesty in their words.
"I need to send to Terra for instructions," I told them.
Dravis grimaced, as though anticipating pain. "To the Hall of Judgement? To the leadership of Ordo Hereticus, I presume?"
I nodded, "yes. I need orders on which to proceed. I have no mission, nothing specific which seems to need investigation in this sector. Inquisitor Tivenus took his case files with him, and I find myself uncomfortably at a loose end. I simply do not know where to start."
Vergis and Dravis both leaned forward, listening intently to my words.
Before I could stop myself, I continued, "it's all too much! I have an entire cruiser, I have forces at my command, I have the lives of good Imperial servants in my hands, and my career has only begun! Is this all truly meant for me? Shall I truly use all these resources for my own investigations, or shouldn't this all go to someone of greater wisdom and experience? Surely there must be better Inquisitors than I who would benefit from what I have inherited from Tivenus."
I hadn't meant to share all that. Something about these Astropaths seemed to compel candor in me. They both nodded, seemingly satisfied that I had spoken truly.
I get the sense that these men despise falseness, and would be far less willingly cooperative had I held back from them. Where does that sense come from? I felt it as a certainty.
Vergis smiled and said, "thank you. We shall commune. Astropath Felicita, Dravis?"
"If she'll hear us. I would aim for her second, Gerthrud."
"Very well!" Vergis folded his hands around his teacup, and closed his eyes tightly. Dravis did the same.
There was silence in the room, and at first, absolutely no sound. And then the two men began to hum.
The hum was a deep vibration that seemed to come from the bottom of their lungs. It intensified slowly, in perfect synchronicity, until they both threw back their heads and uttered a song that seemed like something primal, something of the animal, a throaty sound that should have torn their vocal chords as they sung it. It was a worshipful sound, one that came directly from their deeper natures.
This went on for many minutes. I cannot say precisely how long, for I was rather entranced.
The song seemed to reach a crescendo, and within the same instant they both stopped, and opened their eyes.
Into the ringing silence, Dravis spoke first: "Alena Rantarian.
"You. Are. An. Inquisitor."
Now Vergis spoke: "The resources given to you are yours, and you are to use them to the fullest of your ability."
Dravis again: "You orders are, to inquire!"
Silence again. The twins sipped their tea. They looked rather tired, but satisfied, as though they'd completed a hard day's work.
"Just that? Inquire?" I didn't understand.
"Yes, miss Alena," said Vergis. "That is all!"
Dravis cackled softly, enjoying his tea, clearly amused by my bemusement.
I thanked them, finished my tea (which had cooled considerably -- how long had their song taken?), and left as lost and confused as I had begun.