Back to His Roots

As I've uploaded the relevant information on the Rubic's Dome Necromunda Campaign to my role-player's résumé, I've decided to update the main page and type up some of the background stories I've thought up. I may work on updating the actual campaign info later.

Abbot William Alexander reached the docking bay just as the shuttle's boarding ramp hit the launchpad. As the shorter Francis Cristillo waddled up to his master's side, two groups of white-armored figures began to disembark from the vessel, filing down the ramp and taking up positions on both sides. The squad to the starboard side of the vessel Alexander recognized as Battle Sisters of the Order Minoris of the White Rose, one of the groups that recruited from his Schola Progenium habitat—in fact, several of the faces looked familiar. Deploying to the port position was a group of Imperial Storm Troopers bearing the mark of the Inquisition and a lambda insignia. These might be from the Jersey Prime habitat as well, but their full helms and respirators reduced them to faceless clones, making it impossible to identify any individual.

As soon as the last members of the two squads had vacated the ramp, they were followed by the emergence of a group of more diverse individuals, connected only by the fact that all were clothed in variations of black, red, and white, and most also bore prominently the symbol of the Holy Orders of the Emperor's Inquisition. The obvious leader was a man wearing white robes, a pair of goggles pushed up on his shaven head. It had been several decades, but since he had been informed of the guest's identity, Alexander could spot the resemblance to the child who had embarked on a similar shuttle on this very launchpad all that time ago.

"Ah, young Axel—or Inquisitor Axel now, it would appear. We are honored to see the return of one of our most promising Progena."

"Such is the nature of my visit, Abbot," Axel returned coolly. "Do you know of a Progena by the name of Ai Osamu?"

A moment's thought was enough to provide the answer. "Of course, Milord. Although I have not met her personally, my blessèd predecessor often spoke of her as the Jersey Prime habitat's student possessed of the most talent and potential of any in the entire ninth century of this millennium."

"Tell me, Abbot Alexander, am I correct in assessing that you are quite proud of her?"

"Of course, Milord. As with yourself, the habitat is greatly honored to have been able to raise Imperial servants of the caliber to be scouted by the Inquisition. If I might ask, how has she done in that field? Was she too able to reach the rank of Inquisitor?"

Axel's stony face turned to a scowl. "Yes, she was. Even more, she has been confirmed as an Inquisitor Lord. A stain on the honor of the Holy Orders that the induction process should allow such honor to a lifelong heretic, who had been sowing the seeds of treachery from her childhood."

Alexander was gripped with horror. "What do you mean, Milord?"

The Inquisitor fixed the Abbot with a keen and unwavering gaze. "You claim that you have no knowledge of the heretical cult known as the Lilim operating in your own habitat?"

The Abbot could feel sweat starting to bead on his forehead. "No, Milord. Of course not, Milord. We make certain to keep track of everyone who is on this base, but we have not found anything of the sort."

Axel nodded to the Battle Sisters to his right, and two stepped forward. "I feel the truth in your words," he told Alexander. "You are a good, honest servant of the Emperor, and your honorable death will help us ascertain that the taint is fully cleansed."

The two Daughters of the Emperor drew their bolt pistols and loaded individual rounds. "The swift mercy of Arabella," one intoned as they put their sidearms to Alexander's and Castrillo's foreheads, inside the protective fields generated by their Rosarii.

Alexander was familiar with the equipment used by the Sisters of Battle—His personal collection even included a Godwyn-De'az-pattern bolter.

"'Swift mercy' was another term for 'solid slug.'"