[@Andreyich][@BCTheEntity][@Kratesis][@jbeil]


Colonel Van Der Schartz of the Athega Tertius Planetary Defence Force could not stop sweating, and it was not as if the NCO barracks in which he stood were even any hotter than the usual room temperature. No, this was a clinging, clawing, sweat bought about by something sinister...something unnatural. Not only that, but his head throbbed beneath the slowly regrowing patch of dark hair at the back of his cranium, the miracle of suicidal engineering packed into the tissue of his mind a small sacrifice for the duty and service he was performing for the Imperium.

“How long has it been?” He rasped, his usually calm voice tinged with an edge of worry rather uncharacteristic of the veteran soldier, “they should have reported in by now.”

Vox-Operator De'Shard , another more minor member of the [i]Immortality Order[/i], gave a small shrug of his heavy-set shoulders and shook his head, “it is...unusual for them to be this late, but the operation was a hard one. They were sent to kill an Inquisitor, sir. That is no easy task, even for fully armed and trained soldiers.”

“Dammit De'Shard! They are [b]not[/b] fully trained soldiers though,” snapped the Colonel, “blast it all, they are not even members of the regular Guard.”

“They know their duty, sir,” came the operators stoic reply, “they will complete their task or die in the attempt.”

Out of the window he could see several other buildings of varying shape and size within the walled compound, all making up the PDFs headquarters base in the hive; an armoury, a vehicle pool, various barrack buildings housing dozens of eager fighting men and women, and the actual HQ building itself. Grey-uniformed figures moved in unison, their officers shouting drill orders, and – in spite of their status when compared to the planets [b]actual[/b] Guard regiments – he was like a proud father to these serving men and women, and they his children.

Ever since being visited by the nameless stranger he had known what he had to do, and thus far had managed to convert nearly half of those under his command to their cause. The other half remained ignorant fools, blinded by false Gods and with blinkers over their eyes. Not for long though, not for long.

“Sir!” Barked the operator, his usually calm demeanour broken for a moment, like a stone spilling water from a still pond, “report just in from the forward observation posts along the main highway...”

“Spit it out.”

“It seems that our friend is coming this way.”

“Well, frak.”



[hr]



Scenes of industry flew past on either side of the cabin in which Kliment now sat, his eye whirring forward and back as he refocused his gaze this way and that, the six-wheeled van being a perfect civilian transport for himself and a demi-squad of Sororitas; it was without protective armour, white in colour, but bulky and with the entire rear area commonly used for shifting goods from one place to another – in this case it was human in nature.

The shocked look on the face of the quivering driver nearly forced the Inquisitor to crack a smile, [i]nearly[/i], the way the man had knelt in the middle of the road as one of the more tech-savvy Sisters had clambered into his vehicle reminded him of just how little the average citizen of the Imperium actually knew, how little even these Sororitas truly knew of the wider history of their species. Whatever mirth he may have momentarily found quickly dissipated with those thoughts, his eyes returning to the sludge-grey manufactorums and hab-units of rockcrete and steel as they passed by.

It took almost two hours to reach what could be called the outskirts of the PDF HQ compound, close enough away to observe the thick walls and gatehouse of the place, but far enough away to hopefully not be noticed and identified. The engine of the machine remained idling, should they need to make a quick getaway he did not wish to be sat about waiting for this backward technology to right itself.

“Well,” he began, turning to look at the seven or so Sororitas half-squatting half-seated behind his own seat, “it seems we have further choices to make – all obstructed by four high and strong walls, topped by patrolling soldiers and at least six towers.” He paused to look over them, knowing that each would die if commanded to, but he didn't want that, “we need to gain entry, and I have considered simply walking through the front gate. There is no way they could argue with my authority. And yet, I do not believe that that would be such a fine idea. Is there anything that my escort would suggest? After all, what we do next could see us all going home as heroes, or each laying dead in the dirt.”


[hider=OOC]The van is simply a white transit van because...why not?! :D

I'll respond to Horacio et al as soon as you post up, but, dpeneding on what happens next, we may even need you before you can do much anyway.[/hider]