Light shone from above and through the towering windows greeted the gloom of the candlelit altar. Vines of gold intertwined to form a handcrafted wonder, a winged person depicted where the wings formed the arms of the cross where the bearded man in long robes holding a ring was the axis of the cross. This was the cross of Ferohar, the depiction of spirit and glory of the human soul. Some called it an angel and as the feathers became one with the clothes and continued downwards in the shape of a hawk or an eagle it was fused together with the embodied staff it was standing on.
Under the Ferohar stood the altar and in front of that were a group of younglings singing accompanied by harpsichord and some violins. A cleric guided them with light movements and ignored the new people who arrived from time to time. The sacred atmosphere was complete with the reticent praying of people at the different isles at the sides, kneeling in front of stands of candles and holy images.
Gera Dilgan walked past the statues greeting him with tortured faces and controrted postures begging for salvation from a God who abandoned them. He did not care for the frescoes depicting the Dawn of Time, the Origin of Sin or the Fall of Mankind. The end of his long coat was jerked with every long step he took and he almost put out some of the candles on the way. He went to the stairs on the side and walked up to the second floor, not giving any thought to the choir that was singing in angelic tones.
There the former captain was stopped by a large knight, who wore shiny armor and a long red cape. He had no helmet on so Dilgan stared right into his small eyes in the middle of the round face.
"Where do you think you're going?" Asked the Inquisitor and leaned just a bit forward so that his ornamented long rifle on his back and his sidearm were both in a better view.
"You can get out of my way." Said Dilgan in a dead serious manner.
"If this was no sacred ground I would have spilled your guts already you little piece of–" The knight did not raise his voice but grabbed the shoulder of Dilgan.
"I thought the inquisition was more about actions than excuses."
The knight pushed Dilgan with unnatural force to the wall with one hand and raised his other armored fist, ready to bring new colors to the walls when they heard a strict female command.
"Stand down! What is this about?" Her voice echoed.
The man in the armor froze, Dilgan did nothing and the choir grew silent. The people down in the church looked up and the priest in front of the singing lines turned back. In an instant the muttering of prayers and almost every sound was gone from the gigantic hall and cold fear moved into its place.
"This old man got lost, madam." Said the knight to the black woman who walked up to them. She was wearing the same well crafted armor and colors, but with a few more gold imbued in the details.
The woman turned to the side of the balcony and waved to the priest to carry on. Like magic, every face turned back towards the altar and the priest signaled with his tuning fork to the choir. In a matter of a few seconds the singing restarted and the woman was close enough to the two men to talk in her normal voice.
"Oren, do you not recognize the uniform of the Guardian Force of the Holy Akkadian Dominion?" She turned to Dilgan as the large man took a step back. "I apologize, sir. Please come with me, the Judge Inquisitor is waiting."
Dilgan was left to stand, but his shoulder was in pulsing pain. He decided not to show any signs of this until he is done here. The large man, who was called Oren, kept staring at him like a dog when it is told to sit but is eager to chase the neighbor's cat.
Gera Dilgan followed the inquisitor who introduced herself as Zelpha and based on the power armor she was wearing Dilgan thought she belonged to the upper-middle ranks. They walked through the corridor of the multi-layered temple where balconies and occasional bridges were part of the complex of statues and holy symbols. The judge inquisitor was on a large open balcony which had both views at the nave of the church below and an obscured image of the city of Tenebris through the enormous stained window on the clerestory. Dilgan took a second to watch the pigeons taking flight from the rooftop in front of the gray smoke and factory chimneys. The edge of the decorated windows were blurred from the centuries of smog sitting in, like on everything else in the city. Because of the perfect acoustics, even from this height they were able to perfectly hear the singing from ten stories below.
"Praise be the Lord." Greeted him the tall man who was standing in front of three screens held by the wings of an angel. It was like an extravagant office hanging over the tall temple like an internal bridge. It was complete with books, desks and exquisite sofas.
"Yes, greetings." Answered Dilgan without the faintest hint of humility in his voice. That immediately caught the attention of the judge and his gaze abandoned the computers and wandered over to his guest.
"The famous Gera Dilgan." Said the man measuring him up.
"Is this the part where I say your name, sir?" Asked Dilgan with just a snip of cynicism.
The tall man laughed and clapped his boney hands two times as if he just heard a joke.
"You are sharp and bold, Captain. I am sorry. Former captain." He smiled and Dilgan already knew that this would be a fine friendship of mutual hatred. "My name is Daniyel Ezar Haim. You are to address me as Judge Haim."
Dilgan took a deep breath and thought once again about his own predicament. It was just a second longer as it would have been considered polite in a discussion.
"I understand, Judge Haim."
The judge nodded and his smile was almost gone.
"Good. Good." Based on his voice Dilgan would have guessed that he is much older, but even with this goatee, which was not a good fit to his face, the man looked almost his age. "Go now Zelpha. Leave us alone." Said the judge without looking at the woman who he addressed.
Once the other inquisitor and the rest of the guards left the balcony, the judge walked to the edge and looked down into the deep over the marble banister. They stood there for a moment in the heavenly light.
"Was your trip comfortable from Alba Morum?" He started the small talk. Gera walked up next to him and also looked down.
"What am I doing here, Judge Haim?"
"Maybe we need more straightforward people like yourself, Dilgan."
"My ship and my crew was taken from me and I am supposed to become an inquisitor? Me? Have you ever met me before?" Dilgan talked without the constraints of the usual military protocol or even without the expected politeness.
"I think you will make an excellent Inquisitor." Said the Judge and looked Dilgan in the eye. "You do not let your authority be questioned. You are fearless. I really do need more people like you."
"No, you got me all wrong." Corrected Dilgan. "I do not care about this." He gestured in the general direction of the altar. "I am a military man. That is what I do. Tactics, battles, training and managing my soldiers. I am no holy man who will split hairs on how many angels you can fit on a needle."
The judge waited with a smile as Dilgan finished his monolog.
"What do you think we do here? We need military men. We are not discussing theological details with the common folk. Exactly, you are right. We need tacticians and warriors who can help us defend our states from within, from spies, assassins and terrorists who want to tear our civilisation down."
"Don't give me this crap." Dilgan rolled his eyes and the motion of the judge was broken. "You are waterboarding innocent people, throwing anyone in jail or into camps who step out of line. Don't give me the holy quest, please. I am well aware of your deeds. That is why I am not your man. I am not blind to your tools. I just wanted to retire."
A heavy pause was left in the air which was not even cleared by the sacred singing that echoed perfectly between the gothic walls. The judge was surprised and Dilgan was now just leaning on the side rails.
"So you did not hear." The judge stated slowly. Dilgan looked up at him. "You didn't hear that our society is changing. The Elixir serum has been rediscovered. Last month it was delivered and confirmed for the first time since the Third Apocalypse. Soon those who are deemed worthy will enjoy the benefits of longevity like the people before the End Times. This will keep those who are too valuable to step out of the workforce, forever. This will be like back in the days, when people like us worked for thirty years and then got retired for ten before they had to return. You, Dilgan, you are one of the valuable members."
Gera Dilgan listened and wanted to say a thousand things. Instead he remained silent and the judge continued.
"We have the most responsibility. Mass production is on its way and now the lists are being created by the Church to know who will be in the first round. We will be one of the first ones to be rejuvenated because we bear the responsibility to lead the lower classes."
"Here we go again, see?" Dilgan lashed out. "You talk about the people who keep our damned country running like they were rats. Are you going to go into the discussion how they are expendable and who are the little inferior 'others' we need to exterminate like pests? Let's just keep our conversion casual about genocide." Dilgan turned away shaking his head. "I could throw up from this whole place."
"Yet you did great service to the Dominion. You surely do not hate it enough that you controlled the most powerful battlecruiser of the Guardian Forces and blasted our enemies to pieces. How is that different?" The judge was now standing behind Dilgan. "I just wonder what kept you saying to yourself over all those years to be able to sleep. Or was that better not to see the faces? You are still just following commands. You are no better than any of us, Dilgan."
"I just want to retire and let me brood over the past on my own terms." He said in a powerless voice.
"Listen up, Dilgan." The judge walked back to the large computer complex embedded in the structures of angels. "You are a man of duty. That is what you've been all your life. This is also how you've earned my respect and that is why I let all this, what you said, fly. These things you mentioned, you are not wrong about them. But the way you said them, I could interpret it as high treason or heresy."
Dilgan snorted a short laughter.
"Of course you can."
"I am sure you will find your heart, because that is all that is left for you. You will serve under the flag of the inquisition and you will be granted the centuries to live that you deserve, what a tragedy. You will be paid a hundred thousand Silvers a year and you get your little plot of land after a decade of service. Just like you wanted. It's just a little overtime for which you will be handsomely compensated. After that you'll be able to live out your little retirement fantasy as a rich aristocrat for twenty or thirty years before you are called back to work. In that case you may even find the Marie Claire or an even bigger ship back under your command. Who knows?" The judge played with these thoughts and Dilgan tried not to picture it all. It was in the power of the inquisition to pull the strings and these were not even huge rewards considering the scale of politicians and high ranking bishops. Together with the contrast of being arrested for high treason and then tortured to death, it even looked more appealing to him. What's ten more years of service for thirty years of peace? Not to mention that in good health and middle aged instead of a withering veteran. Can he believe this? The silver tongued Inquisition had its reputation for a reason. They lie. They use people. But what else was he left with? The third option was right in front of him. He looked down and thought about the instant death from falling down and landing on the church floor. Considering that they might bring him back to life in some grotesque way just so he can serve a sentence he shuddered from the thought.
