“Is it done?” Straight to business as usual, bypassing any customary greeting. I was used to it; I had reported to Lord Inquisitor Halloid van der Skar often enough in my many decades of service to the Imperium. This question was given as I opened the door to his office, before I had even gotten a good view of him or otherwise set foot inside.
“It is,” I confirmed, looking him over. For much of my life, I had thought van der Skar my senior, and greatly at that, but he had never appeared to be old. He did, then. He was haggard, his skin taut, hair frail, and his eyes sunk deeper into his skull than when I had last known him mere months ago. “Sir, are you…?” I began, but was unsure what I meant to ask.
“Old? Yes. Dying? Also yes,” he shrugged. “Come in, Callant. Take a seat. And I see you’ve brought an extra,” he noticed, glancing up at me for the first time by then, seeing I had brought Massino Varnus with me into this meeting, my techsorcist ally otherwise uninvited. I suspected, though, that van der Skar would not turn him away. My suspicion was validated as Varnus and I sat before my superior without issue. “Welcome, both of you. To address your concern more directly, I die by choice, and by accident.”
“That is hardly direct,” I admitted. van der Skar managed a grin.
“I have ceased taking the rejuvenat. My choice. The accident was a leak of coolant water during one of many battles the Dawnshadow weathered. Radiological contamination. Curable, of course, but…I think it’s nearly time to go anyway. And I am, on account of my role, unlikely to find a battle of any particular note in which to die, so I may as well be chalked up as another victim of this Siege of Ixaniad,” he explained.
“I’ll miss you,” I nodded solemnly. Varnus had no response, ever observing his surroundings, and the people in them, in silent curiosity.
“And I you. You have made a fine Inquisitor; no, more than fine. Good, even,” he smirked. ‘Good’ was high praise from van der Skar, and I sense he intended sarcasm, hiding the extent of his praise. “But enough platitudes. Mortoc is dead, truly? You can confirm this?”
“He died before my eye, yes,” I confirmed.
“Excellent. Operation complete, then. I understand you eliminated Jaegetri from the star charts as well?” he asked, and I nodded with a hint of eagerness. “Acceptable. No strategic loss to us, and the removal of a viable staging ground from future possible foes.”
“My thoughts exactly,” I agreed.
“I understand you took some losses, as well as personal injury. You’re lucky to be alive,” van der Skar noted.
“I am,” I agreed again, adding a nod to my response.
“Well, perhaps we can look to hedge the odds further in your favor,” van der Skar suggested before reaching under his desk and procuring the Rosarius that had once belonged to Lord Caliman. The adamantium cross made a low thud as van der Skar placed it on his desk between us, after which he nudged it a bit closer to me. I took it into my grasp after a hint of hesitation, where I stared at the relic bequeathed unto my charge. It was as it had been some weeks ago, a black cross and skull with four crimson rubies embedded in a simple, round plating at the necklace’s backing, each located between the cross’s cardinals.
After a few moments of thinking about my former rival, about the fear he had had for me, I glanced up to Lord van der Skar. “Thank you, sir.”
“Thank you, Blackgar, for your service. Now, what’s this about, then?” he asked, a weary finger dancing between pointing at Varnus and me. I, meanwhile, donned the necklace. “It looks good on you,” van der Skar muttered in a quiet jest.
“The acquisition of arms sufficient for the complete destruction of the enemy,” Varnus answered van der Skar’s initial question, with phraseology he had often wielded in my presence to boot.
“I’ve heard that one before,” van der Skar grumbled, indicating that he, too, had fallen victim to prior usage of Varnus’s phrase. “You’re an Inquisitor, Blackgar. Despite such a position, are you finding some difficulty finding the required armaments?”
“Well, yes,” I shrugged. “We’re still in wartime. A lot of resources are being spent on our continued fighting against the Iron Warriors in the Sector. And reserves are kept under lock and key, even by our standards, lest another of our enemies arrive to seize the opportunity posed by the distraction offered by the traitor-Astartes.”
“What do you want?” van der Skar sighed, rummaging about his desk to pull out a tablet which had dozens of documents pinned upon it. I imagined it was his requisitions list.
“The acquisition of arms sufficient—” Varnus began, but I interjected as van der Skar raised an unamused eyebrow.
“Boltpistols, or full Bolters—albeit with augmetic reinforcements accompanying them. 31 units, perhaps 2,000 rounds of ammunition. One for each Sororitas and Tempestus Scion under my command, as well as me myself,” I explained.
“Scions do not typically wield Bolt munitions,” van der Skar noted.
“No, they do not. I want mine to. And I want these weapons and each individual Bolt properly sanctified and warded against the dark powers,” I furthered. “I also want eight Plasma Pistols, likewise sanctified and warded, and four Meltaguns, ideally Accatran pattern, also sanctified and warded.”
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“Do you want any tanks?” van der Skar grumbled.
“Well, we still have our Chimera, but I wouldn’t mind a Leman Russ or two if you have some to spare,” I admitted. van der Skar looked up to me, dryly, expecting a grin or some sign of sarcasm from me. But I was deadly serious.
“What is this for, Blackgar?”
“The acquisition of—”
“Ouranos,” I answered over my techsorcist again. “I spoke with him.”
“You what?” van der Skar asked, putting his tablet down upon his desk and looking at me proper. “You may have led with that.”
“He is dangerous. That much we already knew. I will take no chances with him. I would appreciate the cooperation to follow suit,” I explained, folding my arms. I then lifted my augmetic hand up, drawing attention to it. “I also have some ideas in mind for changes to my bionic equipment, here.”
“Changes like what?”
“Inquisitor Blackgar has requested a high-yield miniaturized explosive be implanted in his arm, with silvered shrapnel. We believe Ouranos consorts with the daemonic. Hence the silvering, the sanctifying, and the warding,” Varnus explained.
“Is that so,” van der Skar muttered, looking me straight in the eyes. He knew at once that the explosive device I requested was not meant for Ouranos, even if I had—convincingly—dictated as such to my techsorcist. “You understand the odds of survival for a victim of such a contraption would be slim.”
“That’s the idea,” I confirmed.
van der Skar looked on at me for a few moments more, then nodded solemnly before turning back to my techsorcist. “And of this theoretical design for a replacement bionic appendage, are there other changes you would make?”
“There are,” Varnus reported. “Inquisitor Blackgar has expressed an interest in trading utility for raw firepower. To this end, the mechanism that renders the hand into a projectile will be foregone for greater munition storage inside the forearm. We desire to increase the firing capacity of the bionic from wielding a single Bolt to being able to eliminate enemies with a trio of Psybolts, each augmented by our Inquisitor’s capable mind,” he explained, gesturing to me in the process. “This would, of course, require consulting the Ordo Malleus for the acquisition of such armaments, and the design I have in mind could be reloaded at will, so more than three such Bolts would be a most welcome addition to our reserves.”
“I will put you in touch with a techsorcist I know of that aids Malleus on occasion,” van der Skar agreed, bouncing the responsibility of this pursuit back unto us. But the aid was welcome all the same. “Is there anything else?”
“I want Sergeant Astal and his Squad,” I declared at once.
van der Skar coughed for a moment while he swallowed that one down. “The Red Hunters traditionally answer only to Inquisitor Lords—” he began, but I interrupted him.
“Of which you are one. So you can command them to heed my commands,” I asserted. “Halloid, when Ouranos reveals himself in the flesh, our response cannot be held back by politics and tradition. It must be furious, tactical, and instant most of all. I recognize I ask for a broad spectrum of specific things, some of them rare and valuable, but the individual quantity of what I seek is not so great. I seek only the specifics of what I believe I need to eradicate this foe,” I explained.
“I will ask Astal if he is willing to abide your call,” van der Skar decided. “But I will not mandate he do so, merely float the question. Is this agreeable for you?”
“It is regrettable, but yes,” I decided, my zeal deflated a bit.
My zeal was further diminished with van der Skar’s follow-up. “If you have no further material requisitions requests, I have orders for you, Blackgar, in addition to your pursuit of Ouranos. I want you here, on the Dawnshadow,” where we can keep an eye on you, I inferred. “Oversee the facility’s repairs as well as the evacuation of personnel from Quintus. I also want you in on further strategic operations meetings to bring this war with the Iron Warriors to a close. When this war is over, your leash will be cut.”
“Understood, sir,” I agreed without hesitation, disappointing though it was. And most of all, these orders would likely have delayed my ‘vacation’ with Mirena. Speaking of which…
“You intend to treat your retinue to a breather from the fighting, including taking that pilot of yours out for a flight amidst the stars,” van der Skar poignantly observed. “Understandable, and recommended. Take this time aboard the Dawnshadow to lick your wounds and grieve, and when your service in this war is concluded, stretch your legs, and prepare for the next one. You and your own will need to be in peak readiness, of both your physical and mental faculties, for what’s to come. And I will not be there, likely, to see you through it. You will need to guide yourself to victory, soon,” he explained.
“Do you have a successor lined up to take your place?” I asked him.
“I do not.”
“Then who will I be reporting to when you’re gone?”
“You will not,” he said, simple and flat. I blinked twice and cocked my head to the side, taking that in. I wondered if that meant, as Ouranos had oft-described, that my end approached as well. van der Skar did not clarify in that regard when next he spoke. “I have nothing more for you now, if you wish to return to your duties.”
“Will I be seeing you again?” I asked.
van der Skar opened his mouth to reply, but hesitated. “Excuse us, techsorcist,” he called to Varnus. “Unless there are other details to your…acquisitions that need addressing.”
“There are not. May the Omnissiah watch over you both,” Varnus declared, bidding us farewell as he rose from his chair to leave van der Skar’s office.
“Be sure to stop by before you take that pilot of yours for a flight. I will not be here when you return,” van der Skar told me when Varnus had left. “I will wish to bid you farewell.”
“It seems this source of yours knows the chronology of my life quite well,” I observed.
“Perhaps it is a life worth knowing,” van der Skar grinned. “Blackgar…there is a blackness coming. Not just for you, but for the whole of the Imperium. It will be very obvious of what I speak when it arrives. It will take men and women of your caliber to lead others into the light again. I know you think you have a lot on your plate now, and you do, but your test is far from its fiercest. That is yet to come. Be ready for it.”
“I intend to be,” I assured him. “For now, as part of that readiness, I need to ensure the stability of my crew, and to that end, I owe one of them a drink.”
“Well you best get out of here, then, and enjoy that drink,” van der Skar grinned. “Give her my regards.”
“Her, sir?”
“I don’t need to have insight about the future to know you speak of Carmichael, Blackgar,” van der Skar laughed. “Are you and she…reconciled?”
“I believe so, but that is what I need to go make sure of,” I nodded, and rose from my own seat. “Thank you, Halloid. For everything. It has been an honor and a pleasure to serve with you these past few decades.”
“Likewise. The Emperor protects.”