Quintus itself was a barren ice world. There were human outposts on it, but they were mostly military R&D or emergency bunkers for Inquisitorial Agents. The Dawnshadow, however, was where most of the Inquisitorial activity took place. A gigantic, sprawling Ramilies-class Starfort, the Dawnshadow was the headquarters of the Ordo Hereticus within the Ixaniad Sector. Some Ordo Malleus and Ordo Xenos representatives occasionally frequented it as well, if they were needed to sit in on consultations as Erasmus Sadaeiv had been invited to my debriefing. A Ramilies on its own could go toe-to-toe with a sizable fleet, and the Dawnshadow was no exception. But being an Inquisitorial outpost, particularly one belonging to Ordo Hereticus, it was not uncommon for the Starfort to be accompanied by a handful—or several—naval vessels as well. Black Ships often patrolled the space around Dawnshadow, ready to respond to any possible insurgency. When you’re poised opposite Cadia from the Eye of Terror, you need to be ready for anything; the heretical forces of the arch-enemy were generally more interested in Cadia in providing a path toward Holy Terra, but they were all-too keen to expand out their flanks as well.

Of some concern was that Holicar Espirov, and the Phaenonites by extension, knew there was an Inquisitorial outpost at Quintus at all, as revealed in my being tortured/interrogated. If, indeed, Espirov was an agent of a damned Iron Warriors Warband, then it was a safe assumption that Warband knew of our location as well. I would not be surprised if Lord Caliman put forth a request for an increased Navy presence both at Quintus and around its borders. Cadia may have been the wall that stood between the forces of Chaos and the rest of the Imperium, but we were the wall that kept them from the rest of the Segmentum Obscurus and the Halo Stars. Ever, we needed to be on alert, and Espirov’s presence was no small discovery.

In addition to its vast array of weapons and defenses, the Dawnshadow also served as a political and resource hub for the Inquisition. Inquisitors, their Agents, and their allies—like Techsorcist Varnus—frequented the Dawnshadow to resupply or report in on their activity. An Astropathic communications array served to keep the Dawnshadow in contact with its operatives throughout Ixaniad, and to keep in touch with Calixis, with whom we had good relations.

Well, as good relations as the Inquisition could manage with itself, which usually was not particularly great.

Most importantly, the Dawnshadow had a bar with a good, round table. Five days after my debriefing, I was hit with charges for censure and re-disciplining. So, too, were Mirena, Penitent, and Silas, as I expected and had warned them about. They did not seem to care. I informed the entirety of my remaining crew, and most of us decided to gather for drinks for what may have been our last opportunity together. Most of us. “So, where is Zha, anyways?” Silas asked, bringing a tray of drinks to our table and handing them out to their respective drinkers. Penitent, as ever, did not indulge in the imbibing, but did join us for the event.

“She wanted some time to herself,” I answered, taking a shot glass and a bottle of Gleece from Silas’s tray. “I’ll check in on her this evening, make sure she’s alright.”

“If you can hold your liquor, that is,” Mirena taunted me from across the table, taking two shot glasses from Silas’s tray. Castecael, sitting next to her, took their bottle of Gleece.

“I can hold my own, thanks,” I assured her, then raised my glass. “To the fallen.”

“To Hans,” Mirena nodded.

“To Czevia,” Silas, Luther, and Xavier said in unison.

“Thaddeus,” Castecael offered.

“Malkyle,” I said, glancing to Penitent with a smile.

“And to Val,” Penitent nodded, also smiling to me. Our group clanged our glasses together and sent the drinks down. Penitent then chuckled to herself.

“Something funny over there, Sister?” Xavier asked her.

“Were Hans still with us, he would’ve been charged as well,” she noted.

“Yeah, he would’ve been,” I nodded, pouring myself another shot, and downed it immediately. “Oh, he would’ve torn Caliman a new one,” I chuckled, shaking my head.

“He’s not the only one, sir,” Luther noted. I raised my eyebrows toward him. “What, I can’t be the only one thinking it! We give all we gave, do all we did, and the four of you have to take a fall for it? It’s not frigging right. If Caliman goes for your neck, sir, he’ll start a war.”

“That’s not the kind of war you win, Luther,” Silas warned him.

“Who said anything about winning it? And it’s not just me saying it,” Luther replied.

“Who else, then?” Castecael asked.

Luther looked to Xavier and gestured to the table. Xavier sighed and shrugged. “I…heard some ambiance,” Xavier admitted. “Sometimes I can’t help it. But it’s none of my business to know. I shouldn’t have frigging told Luther,” he grumbled.

“I agree, you shouldn’t have,” I confirmed. “That being said, the damage is done, and Caliman hates my guts and those of anyone that associates with me. A little rumor isn’t going to hurt things any,” I said, inviting him to spill it.

“Ha, fair enough,” he shrugged. “There’s a handful of, uh, shall we say ‘like-minded’ Inquisitors who share Luther’s opinion over here. I didn’t feel for their names. But there’s also an AdMech here on the Starfort who seems to know what you’re up to, and doesn’t hold Caliman in very high regard.”

“His name is Varnus,” I told him. “If we survive, you’ll all probably get to know him in some capacity. He’s expressed an interest in my work already.”

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“I’d say it’s more than an interest, sir,” Xavier suggested. “Not unlike the phrasing Espirov used, this AdMech—Varnus—is putting ‘contingencies’ in place in case Caliman tries to have you killed. I’m not fully aware of the details. But Varnus wants you alive.”

“I’m well aware,” I chuckled, and poured myself another shot of Gleece.

“He’s an ally?” Silas asked.

“If only you knew,” I laughed. “Guys, listen—I don’t expect Caliman will go for my neck, as Luther put it. I expect he’d very much like to. But he knows it wouldn’t go over too well, not after our success. He is a man who says exactly what he means, and he recommended censure and disciplinary action. That’s what he wants out of this.”

“Well, what exactly does that mean in not-Inquisitor speak?” Penitent asked.

I laughed and shrugged. “My guess?” A few nods followed. “Mirena goes back to prison for a time. Silas is asked to submit to training regimes to be an Inquisitorial Tempestus Scion. For you, Penitent, I don’t really know. But for me, I think they’ll keep me here, on Quintus, where they can keep an eye on me.”

“I’m not very keen on going back to prison,” Mirena grumbled.

“Won’t be like Naval prison. It’ll be Inquisitorial,” I offered.

“Surely that’s worse?”

“Not necessarily. They may keep you here, where I can keep an eye on you. It’s unlikely they’ll try to separate us much; Inquisitors plucking Agents from each other never goes well for anyone involved,” I explained.

“Oh! Maybe they’ll have us share a cell!” she exclaimed.

“I think I’d rather they just shoot me,” I replied, making everyone laugh, save for Mirena, who winked to me with a lovingly sinister sneer.

***

“Enter!” Zha shouted after I knocked on the door of her chambers. I obeyed, thumbing the sigil on the cogitator to record my access to her room. Like the rest of us, she had a closet of a room, with barely the space for a chair to sit in adjacent to her bed. Dawnshadow may have been a massive installation, but only so much of that could be dedicated to crew and guest quarters. “How were the drinks, Mr. Blackgar?” she asked after I entered her room. She was reading a dataslate, which was perfectly ordinary of her, while laying on her bed. “And please, take a seat.”

“The drinks were fine. The group missed you,” I explained, sitting next to her.

“Yes, I calculated that they would. I will apologize to them for that,” she replied. She then sat up, putting her dataslate aside, and folded her hands in her lap. They were trembling.

“Are you alright, Ms. Trantos?” I asked her, already knowing the answer. She turned her head to my face, and shook it gently. It was not like her not to know what to say, but I think I knew. “You don’t want to lose us,” I asserted.

“And I already have lost two of you,” she confirmed, nodding. “I don’t know how to keep that from happening again. And now you say the Inquisition threatens censure and more. I can’t let that happen, Mr. Blackgar. The team is the only family I have after Thantalus. I won’t lose anyone else. But…I don’t have the field abilities to keep that from happening in situations like those that claimed Ms. Gao and Mr. Okustin. I have inferred from your emotional anguish that their loss has impacted you similarly. How do we keep ourselves together, Mr. Blackgar, and keep this loss from repeating?”

I nodded, and believe I loosed a tear, before saying, “Come here.” And I embraced her in my one remaining arm. She happily embraced me in return, eager to rest her weight on me. I was eager to share it. Savants were not without emotion. They were, however, without the knowledge of how to wield it. Most savants have, to their pleasure, very busy, administrative lives. Zha’s was a life of far greater tragedy than usually ever befell her kind. I could not begin to imagine how that interrupted the flow of the logical, calculative thoughts which she ordinarily found so much safety in. “I…have an idea, Ms. Trantos, though it does not address the trial,” I told her as our hug eventually ended. I found she had allowed herself to cry as well, but she focused on composing herself quickly as soon as her face revealed itself to me again.

“Well I have one for the trial, which as ever makes us a capable team, Mr. Blackgar,” she replied, voice a bit stuffy. “What is your idea?”

“If you feel you are up to it, I would like to invite you to get a little closer to the data of the Inquisition, Ms. Trantos, in that I would like to suggest you fulfill Okustin’s role as my Interrogator,” I offered to her. “I suspect you would be exceptional in the position.”

“I do not possess Mr. Okustin’s combat skills,” she deflected.

“Those can be instructed and learned. The skills and talents you already possess, Ms. Trantos, cannot. They are invaluable, and rare, in that regard. You would aid me greatly in this capacity if you were to accept,” I explained to her.

“Interrogators commonly emerge on the path to becoming an Inquisitor. Would that be my fate as well? Do Inquisitors serve other Inquisitors? I have no desire to leave your service if not,” she objected.

“Your fate is yours, Ms. Trantos. You do not need to be an Inquisitor if you do not wish to be. But to answer your question, yes, you could be a fully-fledged Inquisitor with a retinue of your own, and still report to me,” I replied. “You can spend some time to think about it.”

“Yes.”

“Is that yes you’d like to think about it, or—”

“With the information as presented I have concluded, after lengthy thought, that yes, I would like to serve as your Interrogator, Mr. Blackgar. Thank you,” she smiled. The thought seemed, to me, immediate and not very lengthy. But then again, I was merely me, and she the savant. “On the condition that such a role comes with combat training and the means to keep the team together firsthand.”

“Of course, Ms. Trantos,” I nodded, laughing. “I do hope you understand you are an invaluable ally.”

“You have used the word ‘invaluable’ to describe me on fourteen occasions, twice so far in this conversation alone. It seems to be a recurring trend,” she nodded.

“I suspect it shall stay as such,” I admitted. “Now, you had said you had an idea for the trial?”

“Yes. I would like to request that you allow me to serve as your representative counsel. You, and the other three as charged,” Zha suggested.

“I…thank you, Ms. Trantos, that is very kind. But Inquisitorial policies—”

“Inquisitorial policies do not exclude Inquisitorial Agents from operating on behalf of their Inquisitors in this capacity. It has occurred and been recorded 1,193 times in the Imperium thus far, and there exist ample case studies to refer to,” she said, interrupting me. She then smiled and leaned closer to me. “When you told me of the charges against you, I deduced I should read up. So that’s been my evening.”

“The Codices and Mandates of the Inquisition are vast, how could you—”

“They amount to a few thousand volumes of texts, yes. I confess I have only finished a rough fraction of them in this evening, but I expect I will have memorized their entirety by the time of your trial,” she explained. “Uh, admittedly, my request for access was taking too long. The estimated time for my request to be fulfilled would have exceeded the duration of your trial itself.”

“Then how are you studying up?”

“Please don’t make me answer that question before an Inquisitor,” she pleaded of me.

I laughed. “Ms. Trantos, do you mean to imply that you would dare bypass the vast bureaucracy of the Imperium on my behalf?” I mockingly scolded. “I’m flattered.”

“I thought you would be,” she said, now laughing with me. “So, may I serve as your counsel, Mr. Blackgar?”

“It would be my pleasure, Ms. Trantos,” I nodded.