Trouble

A week later, the Astra Militarum Guards (who repeated the path of the capture) landed on the planet and found a not very sober Inquisitor in a vacant government building, in a permanent bodily state.

So, this whole epic was due to the fact that several decommissioned (and decommissioned according to the standards and subject to disposal), about a dozen "Tauros", a sort of assault buggy-vehicles, were simply distributed to the officials of the planetary administration. For some kind of goodies like drinks and other trifles. Not even for money. In theory, the trio could have been given a bonus for their innovative recycling, which saved the Imperium a certain amount of money. However, the appearance of a whole Inquisitor in a couple of days after the "crime of the century" instilled panic and dismay in the minds of officials and inflated ... and not even a misconduct, a routine flaw, to the size of a terrible crime. The consequences are known, and the regiment of guards left the planet with a renewal of personnel, where the cowardly officials entered in full. To train their courage.

While there were no complaints about their performance, and the Inquisitor had gotten everything out of them, up to and including stealing candy as a child. Accordingly, the Inquisition's communication style was developed: clear, quick, to the point, and with specific people in charge. This format allowed both to get the job done and to avoid setting fire to a flood in a brothel.

Extremes sighed, pulled up, funnily enough, an upgraded Taurus with stripped weapons and, leaving the assistants, delivered me and themselves to some analogue of the "officers' dormitory".

Then, having ascended to the floor, the official opened the door without any curtsy. Where, in a fairly comfortable environment, there was a man in his forties wearing an unbuttoned black shirt, uniform black pants, high boots and no insignia. His appearance was quite remarkable-apparently the Eye of Terror and its emanations had left an imprint. Namely, he had alabaster-white skin, violet eyes, and white, milky-white, not gray, hair, with a violet undertones. He looked at us, lingered on my armor chest with its regalia, sighed, stood up, put his hands behind his back, and asked grimly:

- "Is it time?

- Absolutely," I answered flatly, and then continued. - Inquisitor Terentius Alumus, introduce yourself.

- Colonel of the 13th Ophidian Regiment of the Imperial Guard, Robert Sin," the colonel mouthed.

- So, Colonel, first of all, why don't you tell me what you mean by 'time'? - I was curious.

- The trial?! - he gave out in a bewildered interrogation. - You gave the order to detain the rest of the regiment, didn't you?

- Is there any astropathic report on the 13th Ophidian, requested by the Inquisition, with inaccuracies, omissions, or omissions of detail? - I asked the ceiling in a kind voice.

The ceiling was silent, and the staffer and the clerk fidgeted and in a couple of minutes assured me in two voices that there were none.

- That's encouraging," I diagnosed. - On whose orders was the train of the 13th Ophidian detained?

- Y-your orders?! - half-assertive, half-questioning asked the captain.

- To cancel disband the 13th Ophidian Regiment and to quarter it until Inquisitor Terentius Alumus arrives," I voiced from memory. - The astropaths of the Fortress of the Inquisition relayed this message. Was it distorted by immaterial? - I inquired curiously.

- No, Inquisitor, but we thought..." came the reply after a moment.

- You've done a disgusting job," I stated. - Captain Blind, Perfect Lassie, you have one hour. This time is given to you two to have the regiment's personnel removed from custody, to be assisted by medics if necessary. And above all, I wish in one hour to know the name of the man who so freely interprets the Inquisition's instructions.

- А...

- Execute," I smiled affectionately. - I'll be here, and the clock is ticking. If you'll be obstructed in the execution of my instructions, record it, it's in your own interest.

The couple disappeared, leaving me in the company of a somewhat dazed but hopeful Robert.

- Tell me what you're up to, and why the trial," I wondered.

- Hm, yes! - The colonel pulled himself together. - Losses in the battle of more than half of the regiment, failure to fulfill the assigned task...

- And now the facts, - I interrupted.

- Incorrect place of landing, absence of heavy equipment, orders impossible to execute by the regiment's current forces, - Shin said.

The parsing of the flights showed compliance with the requested report - the "extra," which arrived due to the disruption of astropaths, as written in the reports, and personally I suspect - due to incompetence, the 13th Ophidian was simply thrown at the orcs like a stone, with orders to join with the main forces. And while the orcs were grinding the regiment, the deployment of positions, artillery and heavy equipment was going on.

And there's a hell of a lot to say here. The Astra Militarum Charter did not blame such "use" of Guardsmen, and the fact that specialists were used as cannon fodder in a conflict in which they shouldn't even be - a miscalculation of some unknown official who sent this regiment here.

Well, my order was taken as an order to "keep and hold", although they did not arrest the colonel, which indicates that the moron who issued such an order at least suspected that he was a moron. But he didn't fail to arrest the junior officers. "Just in case," great minded man, yep.

- We'll sort it out," I promised the colonel. - Colonel Sin, I have a proposal for you to join the armed forces of the Inquisition. Ordo Malleus, under my command. Naturally, all of the 13th Ophidian, in the remaining roster.

- And why are you..." the colonel hesitated.

- I asked? - I asked, to which I nodded. - I need a permanent combat landing party for my ship. Full regiment is unnecessary, your four hundred...

- Three hundred and seventy-four," Cyn sighed heavily and wasn't afraid to interrupt me.

- Three hundred and seventy-four guardsmen would do me just fine," I said without giving a shit. - Resistance to warp, combat experience, the fact that you survived the battle with the orcs at all is all for you, but you need consent. Not the rank and file, but you, as their voice and mind, for sure.

- Yes, Inquisitor, it is an honor for us, - after half a minute the colonel gave out.

- Fine, in that case check the condition of your subordinates, demand all, I emphasize, all the necessary weapons and equipment at least theoretically in the Arsenal. Appeal to my name, but in case of abuse..." - I did not finish, holding out the "sign of an agent of the Inquisition", to which Shin nodded comprehensively.

- And the commissioner? - he clarified.

- Officio Perfectus, accordingly, at his will," I answered. - I think you can manage with the current staff by appointing deputies, don't you?

- Yes, Inquisitor," the colonel nodded. - 'I'll manage.

- So you are sure he will leave? - I asked curiously, eliciting a surprised look and a nod. - Hmm, tell me the details," I wondered.

In the end, in ten minutes Shin poured over me, and I even found an analytical article in my tablet about... the All-Imperial Superstition: "If you get between the Inquisitor and the Commissar, there will be trouble." Having let the colonel go, I digested what I had been told and read, waiting for the "messengers".

So, for the last several millennia, there has been a similar saying. It is quite clear why, but... In general, statistics showed that when the Commissioner and the Inquisitor work together, the worst possible outcome happens. A hunger riot turns into Peace, worshipping chaos, and so on. Research by a fellow analyst has shown that superstition works statistically, on a sample of three thousand cases.

And if the Inquisitor temporarily recruits a regiment with a commissar to solve a particular problem, all is statistically tolerable. However, as soon as these two proverbial cadres go out into the field together, begin to perform the task, working together and interacting directly - almost the worst possible scenarios are uncovered.

A colleague, by the way, rather wittily and, in my opinion, quite plausibly, explained this in a similar way to the Imperial cult, by some "manifestation of the faith of the trillions. That is, the original "superstition from the presence of superior entities" grew into a kind of religious working(!) ritual. This made me chuckle, double-check, and once again marvel at the oddity of the mixing of matter and immaterial in my place of residence.

Meanwhile, my "messengers" piled into the apartment. The Captain and the Perfect were red-faced, sweaty, disheveled, and breathing heavily. However, the results of their run were quite satisfactory. Namely:

The regiment was released from the brig, the necessary medical care was rendered on the spot, and the Guardsmen were handed over to Sina, who had arrived. And after that they engaged in an "investigation", although they lied ineptly about it. Apparently, they were deciding whether to pawn them all or "risk their health. Apparently, they got carried away, so that they came running and disheveled to me, but my comrades did not lie, because when I asked about reporting, and such was presented to me. It displayed the path of the Inquisition's request from the astropath to the imprisonment of the rest of the regiment in the brig.

And the one who made the decision to "seize and hold back" was perfectly visible in this case. A certain Colonel Lancelot, General Staff, within the Munitorum specifically, not the Guard. After contemplating the pros, cons, credentials, and so forth, I rendered my verdict.

- Ten lashes in front of the ranks for stupidity bordering on sabotage," I voiced, recording the Inquisitor's "injunction" in the fortress informatorium.

- The colonel? - The captain's eyes widened.

- I can demote him to the rank and file, or even to a penal officer," I answered the whitened and horrified captain. - However, this colonel is found guilty of nothing but stupidity. The punishment follows accordingly to his misconduct. I leave the question of rank to his immediate superiors, the execution of the sentence I leave to your control. Perfect Lassie, determine the executor, whether commissioner or squad executioner of any rank. And so I bid you farewell, Perfect," whereupon the official was blown away as if by the wind, out of harm's way. - Captain, escort me to Colonel Shin.

- Yes," Blind said sourly.