Start of journey

And then a hand rested on my shoulder and yanked so that the kaleidoscope flashed before my eyes. I was in the middle of a few seconds and realized that Mark had pushed my precious carcass behind his back, but had managed not to break or damage anything. Given his strength, speed, and size, it was precision.

And in a few seconds, when I looked out from behind his broad back, it was all over. The orcs were fragmented chunks of meat, and the skitarians were busily scattering some kind of powder over their surroundings. After talking to Samuel the techno, the skitarians sprinkled some of the spaceborne, stared questioningly at my person, got a nod, and sprinkled me in.

Meanwhile, Claudius rose from his knee, peeled off his helmet, leaving a few non-bleeding scratches, and, typing a step, approached my person.

- Ultramar will not forget! - he proclaimed with pathos. - My life is ashes, but for the banner, thank you!

- Thank you! - There was a collective roar from the Space Marines, and I could hardly resist asking them to monetize that gratitude.

- Samuel! Give the honorable Inquisitor Terentius the help he needs! - roared Claudius, to which the techno-soldier pounded his fist in his chest, clapped Mark on the shoulder, and stared at me.

- Dismantle the Xenotech, pack it up, and deliver it to the spaceport," I said, staggering. - Except...

- Yes, honored Inquisitor? - Samuel inquired.

- I'm afraid that the encounter with Chaos has caused memory damage," I decided to play the "Brazilian series card.

- Yes, Brother Claudius mentioned that some sort of warp spawn had moved into you. You even screamed," Mark blurted out. - He even used a sacred relic to reveal traces of spoilage," he hummed.

- He did it right! - I held up my finger.

Hmm, so the sergeant saw what was happening on the other side of the portal, and he saw me. It's a good thing I didn't bang the body of the stay yelling "Serves you right, you bastard!", I mentally chuckled as the tech paratrooper and Mark extracted my precious carcass from the dungeons.

- What is your predicament, dear Inquisitor? - Samuel inquired on the surface.

- I don't remember what ship I came to Tellorum on," I said with a slight smile. - Quite amusing.

- The aftermath of the evil of the Destructive Forces is honorable and worthy of sincere sympathy," the techno-marine said under Mark's nod. - If you're concerned about whether your vessel can deliver the xenotech, your concern is unnecessary. "The Lusty Terranca is a more than capacious vessel," he concluded.

Leaving me to digest the name of the venerable Inquisitor Terentius' trough. What can I say, apparently, the deceased burned in all senses, not only the supervised contingent, I smirked.

In the xenotrope room the techno-marine politely bade me "Stand aside, sir", ran (naturally, he did!) outside, brought back a considerable pile of metal sheets (I prudently did not take an interest in what he undone), in half an hour obviously disassembled(!) instead of broke the base with pylons, rammed all this stuff inside the welded container, fastened the parts with welded metal strips. After that, he carried the box on Mark and offered to be my guide to the spaceport, where he intended to reunite with his colleagues.

I didn't object and headed for the spacemarine, glancing through the contents of the tablet and memorizing what needed to be read urgently and what could wait. Context and letter search, not just voice search, was fortunately present. So I was soon convinced that I had indeed arrived on the "Lascivious Terranca," but the ship was a "hitchhiker"-a certain "peddler" taken to the gills by Terentius not without the help of the Inquisitor's powers.

We left the quarantine zone with a creak, my joints included. I was a little tired of poking my winged skull cross where I should and should not, but without it, I think they would have let us go to compost. And so the skitarians and some wild cyborgs stripped our bodies to the point of irritation, irradiating us with an inordinate amount of radiation. However, again, using the data from the tablet, we can say for good reason - orcs were not only strong and dangerous enemies, but also quite a real contagion, which is quite characteristic of bioweapons. So to the four hours of "mycocidal" activities I took it, if not positively, then with understanding.

But every beginning has an end, so our company with the container (I had to kill half an hour, waving a cross and fists that there are definitely no spores orcs inside, and what is there - the mystery of the Inquisition) headed for a nearby, fortunately, located spaceport.

In general, transportation in this hive didn't really suck, but rather none at all. Having shown curiosity, I was enlightened that the city is divided into pentagons, with a twelve-kilometer diagonal, residents, respectively, in such dwell and work. Movement between them is possible by some analogue of the railroad, but inside there is simply no room for transport. Neither for ground, nor for flying.

However, the idea of scooters, gyroscooters and bicycles visited me, thanks to the fact that professorship of all types and kinds was the first rule of every noble trapper (and before the possible removal of me from delirium I finally accepted myself as such), but my familiarity with the world around me was close to zero. Accordingly, I restrained my soul's beautiful impulses and, with the face of a burned-out inquisitor, reached the spaceport.

It was not a field or anything like that, but a huge square building, resting in a dome of the ceiling. And inside there were columns to the ceiling and corridors, not a field. Which probably made sense.

My companions led me to one of the columns and bowed out, thanking me in moderation and waving their enormous arms at mine. And I, before walking to the base of the column and a small structure, resembling a vestibule, did a quick research in the tablet on the question of where I was going to fly. It turned out that Terekha wished to visit a certain "Conclave of Segmentum," and the trader's charter included transportation to that place.

The freight itself was contracted to one Augustus Termidor, the Free Trader of the Imperium of Mankind-exactly, and in no other way. With a sniffle at the name of this free man, I entered the building, notifying a couple of men with a haughty face (the best way to hide their confusion and ignorance) that my luggage was here, to be loaded onto the ship and escorted to Termidor the Merchant, right away, without delay.

The types looked at each other, one stood up and came over to me, uttering "Follow me, Inquisitor," while the other began, in "high ship's voice," though in a whisper, to demand brute physical force at his disposal. I followed the guy and went inside the convoy and began to admire the "debauchery. Holy crap, a kilometer-long fool! Positioned at the moment stanchion, but with some beak-taran, bastard, houses with roofs, some pylons, and either cannons, or feints.

- What's the size of the crew? - I asked in a level tone.

- Three thousand men, Inquisitor, and fifteen hundred servants," the nameless attendant said.

It's... like... mma, I inwardly fumed as I followed the guide. It was, you see, a hitchhiker came along, so... eventually, in a golf cart, my guide took me to the bridge. Huge windows, luxurious furnishings, or rather, overly luxurious - gold, jewels, and so forth. A couple of half-dressed maidens, extremely attractive, and a type who looked like a young man in his twenties, no more, were attached.

All this decadence was against a backdrop of several strange-looking but clearly designed to control or adjust workstations - elevated chairs surrounded by screens and machinery, now empty. But the young man, judging by his extremely flamboyant outfit, the squeamish crease at his mouth and the haughty look (which he somewhat calmed down at the sight of my humble person) was just that peddler. I wondered at his youth, and voiced my "touch" wish.

- As you wish, Inquisitor," the young man said. - No delays, change of route are not expected?

- Not as far as I know," I answered haughtily. - But for the rest..." I was silent meaningfully.

- You're right, all in the Emperor's hands," the merchant said, with fingers intertwined on his chest, making a sort of "bird," apparently a religious gesture, repeated after him by unrepresented maidens.

- What is the approximate time frame for the journey? - I inquired, and was answered by an astonished raise of my eyebrows.

- About three decades, Inquisitor," replied the Termidor. - Warp is unpredictable, though. I'll take care of the departure preparations?

- Yes, just a moment," I decided to buy myself more time. - I'll take my quarters, and the food there, and I won't be distracted until the flight's over.

- As you wish," Augustus bowed his head.