New Life

I rummaged through my backpack and found a change of clothes, a human skull (one of them) covered with technical gadgets, several books, which, when I looked through them, I realized that they were some kind of "manual for an evil witch under the Emperor's shadow", a textbook on psykerism, and some analogue of a tablet. An analogue, because this fool of four centimeters thickness and the size of twenty by fifteen, was more like a weapon: you can really kill with such a thing.

However, after rummaging through my pockets and not finding anything but a strange pistol-type gun and its ammunition, I was forced to turn my attention to the "tablet of war". Outside the screen it was lavishly decorated with skulls, winged and not so winged, incomprehensible abbreviations and quotations in Latin. However, on poking at everything (it turned out that I had to press the eye holes of the largest central skull at the same time) the chart started up, flashed the screen and demanded that I identify myself. Fortunately, a fingerprint was enough, so I was inside the system. Pretty archaic, sort of like Norton, with a few apps on the bottom. Well, at least I found "auspex," I rejoiced in passing as I delved into the contents.

The language was a mixture of English and Latin, quite understandable, so in a quarter of an hour I was digesting the primary results. So, I am Terentius Alumus, an inquisitor of the Holy Imperium of Humanity, a member of the orderos (apparently a "professional association") of Maleus. Plus a bunch of side information to that, which I spit on for now - time was important, though having folders with a lot of background (judging by a couple of glances) information pleased me.

But Ter himself kept a diary, and a detailed one, which can not fail to please. Opening the last few files, I found that they were obviously written from the voice - there were several brackets that said "unrecognized sound", "sigh" and the like.

The third message from the end was full of curses on the "warp-fucked orcs" that made it impossible for Ter to reach the "gates of the ancients. Apparently it's the xenotech I'm near. The second was an encounter with the Space Troopers, the Ultramarines. A dozen led by Sergeant Claudius. The swearing wasn't so much more, but rather it became more subtle and snide, on the subject of which god of chaos had thrown the Ultramarines across, by the way, the entire Imperium, and the resulting reasoning that "what gets in my way, helps me."

And finally, the last, rather short message about the xenotech, his appearance, the absence of negative reactions to the "sacred relics" and the words that Terentius "will check". Damn it, once again I felt sorry for my personal demon.

So, on the planet where I am, there are orcs that mushroom and twist words. A dozen spacemen are going to wipe out these orcs, which seems strange to me, but Claudius seems sure of it. Accordingly, I offered to help, which now seems rather silly to me. Although, hell knows I wouldn't have gotten a bullet if I hadn't offered to help (or a slap in the face, for the size of that mutant doesn't make a difference).

A search under "xenos" gave me a description of these orcs. They came out with quite obvious bioweapons, I concluded after half an hour. Xenorace, who see their entire life only in war, who have no sex, who reproduce by spores, and who are quite dangerous at that.

Okay, we should contact Claudius, I concluded, figure out how I could help, and if anything, refuse to provide that help under plausible pretext. A poke at the icon labeled "auspex" produced a string of "contacts," but the ones highlighted in red were at the top, apparently "in range and online," so I poked in Sergeant Claudius' name. The face of the poked one did not fail to occupy the screen, judging by the angle - the broadcast from the helmet.

- Inquisitor," Claudius covered his eyes for a second.

- Sergeant," I picked up on his manner. - How do you see my help with the orcs? - I didn't pause to pause for meaning or anything. - I am unfortunate lack of information, being focused on the possible danger of xenotech," I explained to the obviously surprised look on his face.

- Forgive me, Inquisitor," said the interlocutor. - Your help I see in connection with the general-fabricator Tallorum. This magos is regrettably busy, the deputies responded to requests and simply quarantined a segment of the hive, pending the decision of the Fabricator-General. Without you, Inquisitor, we probably wouldn't even have made it into the quarantine zone," the sergeant added.

- I see it prudent to help you contact the Fabricator General, Sergeant," I reasonably suggested. - You are more informed and competent in the matter of xenos.

- Thank you, Inquisitor," the cover of my eyes was considerably longer. - Would you mind joining the squad?

- It wouldn't be a problem if I were escorted," I answered. - It would also be nice to have an escort to fill me in on the situation.

- All right," Claudius blinked. - Inquisitor, would you like to deliver the xenotech to your Ordos? - he inquired, to which I agreed, just in case. - Well, in a quarter of an hour you'll have a techno-deserter, Brother Samuel. He will assist you in your endeavor.

At this point the connection was severed, and instead of familiarizing myself with the tablet I was left to reflect on my obviously strange reactions to my surroundings, my spontaneous and not always correct decisions. If everything around me is nonsense - then there is nothing to be surprised, but the logic, coherence and duration led me to think otherwise. So I have to count on the fact that I live here. Accordingly, I need to figure out why my reactions to my surroundings are so strange and somehow try to manage them.

Laginia for starters. No strangeness is revealed here - in the isolation in which I find myself, a reasonable companion of any kind would be accepted as a boon. Sex with her goes in the same vein, though the lack of interest in her is strange. However, given my "inhabitation" of Terentius' body, it is possible that my "ghostly state" was the reason. Although, against this same background, the same sex, saliva, and perspiration indicate that the body was. The lack of need for sleep, food, and water, on the other hand, indicates the opposite. Although, let's put it down to warp until I can find something out for sure (or I can't, but then that warp would be to blame for everything in general).

But from the moment I entered my body, I began to feel a little crazy, and I began to do spontaneous, thoughtless things. And that's... a characteristic of the body, I grunted. I guess I was like a ghost in warp, but I just didn't get used to the body, so it makes me do all sorts of crazy things. I should be more careful and think more, or it is not certain that I will survive the death of the shell. However, it is not a fact and to the contrary, but it is better not to risk it, I concluded.

In the meantime, a spaceman had, surprisingly enough, walked into the room. The somewhat more modest size of this specimen of mutant fauna in relation to Claudius compensated for the fierce, sticking out from behind a manipulator and a huge axe in the form of stylized half a gear. He also had all sorts of trinkets and bijouterie that encrusted his armor, and it wasn't winged-turtle, but turtle-six.

- Is that a proper xenotech to dismantle and transport? - The man, who was a rogue, poked at the xenotech with his backside arm, and at my raised eyebrow he mechanically squeaked at the same time as nodding and said. - Techno-deserter, Brother Samuel. Brother Claudius commanded me to escort you to him and answer your questions, Inquisitor.

- Fine," I pretended to be glad, throwing my backpack behind me. - Lead the way, Samuel, and the first question would be, how did you get here? - I voiced the point that had angered Terek.

- In Segmentum? - After some hesitation, Samuel clarified, to which I nodded. - Orc psykers cursed by the Emperor, Inquisitor. The destruction of the landing asteroid was accompanied by a warp wobble. The bibliary pointed out that some of the orcs and the shaman escaped into warp. Ultramar always completes things! - He pounded his chest, and made the statement a slogan. - They followed the trail through warp in the small craft, but could only intercept them when the shard hit Tallorum. We contacted the planetary manager," the technomancer hesitated. - The Factory-Locum made a decision about observing the shard's impact, pending the Factory-General's decision. The wait will be a couple of decades," the interlocutor sighed, Darth Vader-style.

- Observation? - I clarified.

- Full quarantine and the destruction of all life, up to microorganisms, leaving the area, - explained the techno-paratrooper.

- Makes sense with spores. - I stretched it out.

- True, but the extermination of ten million inhabitants of the World-Smith seems to me unreasonable and not quite right," Samuel muttered. - The inhabitants have enough water and, more importantly, oxygen to last them for a couple of days. It would eliminate the threat of the orcish contagion, but the collateral casualties of the Emperor's subjects..." He didn't finish meaningfully.

- I see, your position is reasonable," I stretched out and thought.

In principle, if the creatures described in the tablet had been swarming around here-perhaps the destruction of the planet would have been reasonable. But tens of millions of people because of "employment"... That's a bit of an atrocity, isn't it? And so, judging by the description and extrapolation of the terms - "little infestation", the orcs could neither multiply, nor strengthen in less than a week. True, the "cursed sorcerer of pagan, called by those Wyrdbous" might be a problem, the described orcish sorcery was freezing with its madness and efficiency. We'll see, though, I logically concluded, and watched.