Warhammer 40,000: Stavrakis- The Hunt For Valakt

Preparation

"Please excuse the Mess Aurora. I... have not had the leisure of cleaning up."

Aurora and I were standing in the doorway to my cabin. The mess that had pervaded every surface still remained. I gingerly stepped over the threshold, careful not to step on any live weaponry I had lying around. The light globes set into the walls clicked on automatically with a soft hum. Which turned into a louder thrum as they heated up. Everything was as I had left it. I pulled my greatcoat off and hung it on a peg near the door.

"Make yourself at home, I suppose." I waved around the room.

Aurora looked visibly startled at the state of my room. She tip-toed slowly in.

"You live here?" She asked incredulously. I nodded my reply. I moved over to my codifier, sweeping away the myriad data slates littering the top into a corner. I noticed that the corner was home to a startling amount of heavy ordnance. I hastily dropped the slates onto my already overcrowded bed, and starting working on the pile of grenades and missiles.

"I... my life these past ten years has left me little spare time for housekeeping." I admitted quietly. She knew nothing of my past, and I did not want to stir those memories. They would be ever-present in my dreams, and I had no need of them while I was awake. With the grenades stored safely in my wall length locker, I triumphantly deposited the data slates back into the corner. Aurora walked over to my flakboard wall. My muttering and tinkering throughout the room didn't disturb her as she looked at the visual representation of my last few years.

"What are those?" She pointed, horrified at the picts I had collected of the Tyranids.

"Tyranids." I explained offhandedly. I had piled a number of coats and shirts over my shoulders and was ready to stick them in my locker.

"Hyper-evolutionary organisms from outside our galaxy. They are a primal force, and wholly devoted to consuming all in their path." I said as factually as I could manage. How many coats did I have? How many did I actually need? I kicked open the locker section devoted to my clothing, and dumped my bundle in, closing the door as quickly as possible. She plucked a sheaf of papers off the flakboard, paging through them as I continued my mission. I stepped behind her for a moment. It was the mission report detailing my master's death. My heart ached. Even the act of revenge on the swarm that had caused his death did nothing to ease the feelings of anger and pain. Aurora looked horrified, yet she was unable to put the report down. She was sickened, but I could see she was curious as well.

"Is this what you do?" She looked up at me, scowling. Again, I nodded my reply.

The bed was almost entirely clear of debris by this point.

"Dealing with Tyranids is more the purview of our Chambers Militant than an Inquisitor. That was a... uh, special case." I turned her by the shoulder, away from the flakboard. "Have a seat, please." I indicated the bed.

"Don't get too caught up with what you see there." I said. "It will never be that bad 100% of the time." I spoke without conviction. The truth is, It was a bleak living. Inquisitors never die peacefully, and they never have a choice with regards to the manner of death. My master was dead by evisceration, with secondary poisoning. Saul was ripped apart by a huge warp-spawned felid. Others I knew were immolated. Aurora saw the depressed look on my face and didn't believe me for a second. She was smart enough not to press the point. I hoped that my death would be near instantaneous. Just not drowning. Please, Emperor. I focussed on the present, and presented Aurora with a large, yellowed book. I also handed her a data slate.

"That book contains situational reports of Inquisitors in the field. It should give you an idea of how we operate." I told her, pacing towards my codifier. "I apologize for the lack of any official orientation and induction. We are pressed for time. The slate belonged to my master, and contains what he had passed on to me with regards to training. Keep it, treasure it. My current retinue has no need of it, and neither do I. if you truly intend to serve the Emperor, you will need it."