“Heretic Filth! Vile Traitors, prepare to face the Emperors righteous Wrath!”
Just as you are picking yourself up after the cataclysmic battle with Brieger and his pet Demon, a seriously stimmed up Rykehuss charges in, sporting newly installed optical implants and metallic skull-cap replacements. His flesh is still raw and sore from the melding with the metallic implants, and his temper seems none improved by the experience. Anton Zerbe seems as surprised as you, as you turn around to face the newcomer from your various tasks.
Uthak has just finished tying a tourniquet around Briegers stump of an arm, and casually picks up his 2 meter long cannon to point at Brieger. Castus has already dropped to a prone position, autopistols primed and ready. Sand and Aurelius look up from their first-aid session, the smell of burnt bacon fresh in the air from the Arbitrators painful cooking. Warn has just finished removing Zerbes binders, and turns around just as Havelas finishes administering to Brother-Sergeant Agamorrs wounds.
“Hah, your lapdogs led me straight to you, Arch-heretic! You will not escape me again, Zerbe! The Traitor is the worst kind of Heretic”. Shock troops in shining black armour begin to pile in behind Brieger as the commanding voice of Brother-Sergeant Agamorr fills the air.
“Stay your hand, Inquisitor”. As he rises to his feet, heisting his Thunderhammer to his shoulder, his 230 cm of Power-armoured bulk makes for an effective attention-grabber where he stands amidst the still smoking remains of Zeraphin, the vile Demonhost. “Things are not as they appear”. A gauntleted hand points at Brieger, while his eyes lock with Rykehuss. The silence that follows is complete, as Rykehuss’ gaze travels from Agamorr to Brieger, back to Agamorr, down to his feet, to Zerbe, then back to Brieger.
“Brieger…. You look well…. for a corpse”
“Not for long” states Zerbe deadpan. “Rykehuss, your zeal and your determined action does you credit, but your investigation skills do not. That you believed me a Heretic I can understand, but that you could let a fool like Brieger deceive you is unfathomable!”. Even standing naked in front of the power-armoured and armed figure of Rykehuss, Zerbes authority is projected like an almost tangible aura.
“You DARE lecture me, Zerbe? After the disaster you allowed to occur at Tarsus? After you let yourself be captured by this fool? May I remind you that you are still declared Excomunicatis Traitoris Extremis, and a slightly more respectful attitude-”
“PERHAPS, Inquisitor Brieger, had you come here with intent to expunge the TRUE heretic, I might be in a more understanding mood, but I’ve had a lousy few months, and your attitude is not really helping, this …”
The heated exchange of views is observed in shocked unbelief by Rykehuss troops, Brother-Sergeant Agamorr and even Brieger seems uncomfortable both by the derogatory descriptions he is labeled with, and with the breach of protocol this quarrel represents. A soft voice cuts through the abuse, and silences all: “My lords, perhaps we could continue this conversation in a more appropriate venue. Say, somewhere else than in the burning remains of a chaos ritual, on a dead moon shaking with backlash of uncontrolled power from the Warp?”
Rykehuss and Zerbe look at Sand, who shrugs and smiles “Just a suggestion.” As if on cue, explosions rock the Ziggurat, and the smoke from the ruined cogitator units around the room flows out to cover the floor, filling up the amphitheater from the bottom. “I do not know what Brieger was doing here, or what the effects of our termination of his activities will be, but I’m sure we’d be better of not staying around to find out.”
At this, Briegers face drains of any remaining colour (not much, he was already pretty pale), and his eyes widen in terror. “Oh no, what have you done? You fools, you have doomed us all…” A massive explosion rocks the Ziggurat, and massive stones fall from the unseen darkness above. A boulder the size of a small house smashes into Rykehuss’ troops, throwing bodies and parts everywhere. The ground shakes, the last of the electric lights die and the only lighting is an eerie omnipresent blueish glow. The grinding of stone on stone, and thunder of rocks impacting on the floor. Brother-Sergeant Agamorr’s voice is hear above the cacophony: “Fall back, get outside!”
As you run along the corridor, you overhear Zerbe speaking to Sand: “A most acceptable and timely intervention, Interrogator. Your men did well. It appears you were right in preventing their execution after all. Oh, you didn’t happen to bring some clothes, did you?”