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Standing on the viewing platform of the orbital station she was on, Hera would look down at the planet below her and sigh. Why the governor had thought this view was worth building a whole platform for, she would never know. All she saw as she looked down at the sprawling greysacape was the plumes of smoke and ash, the disgusting refuse of the worst of humanity and the heretics, mutants and witches that all scurried across Yunnalin V’s surface. “Pathetic,” she would mutter, turning from the scene and walking out of the room. The auto-door slid closed behind her, her footfalls muffled by the fineries she had yet to tear down.

It didn’t take her long for her to reach the brain of her latest operation. What had been the most degenerate room in the entire craft had been stripped barren and made anew- the chrome filed down, the hedonistic goods inside jettisoned to burn up in the atmosphere below and an icon of the Emperor set up, watching over the occupants as they went about their work. The Holo-Projector had been mounted in the centre of the room, a swivelling chair placed in front of it, and a servitor slaved to it, whilst elsewhere in the room cables snaked to new screens and machines carefully watched over by a techpriest.

As she sat down next to the Holo-Projector, the servitor would turn its head to her. “I live. To Serve.”

“Begin recording. Open communication lines to all contingents sent to me so far.” She would wait a moment as the servitor’s cogitators sent their commands to the techpriest for confirmation, and then settle in as it’s eye sparked to life, images of the yet-to-be-established connections between herself and the various individuals that had come to her summons. One by one their faces would pop up-  Magos Eldarian Null first, Rapidly followed by Vindicare XXIII, then Justicar Hektor Autark, followed by Sister Superior Sabine, and lastly the Tempestus and Militarium officers.

Hera would look at the holo-projector in front of her, pause briefly to smooth out one of her eyebrows, and then opened her mouth and begun to speak. “Greetings Imperial forces. My thanks for your rapid and consummately professional arrivals considering the nature of my request. Our work here is only beginning, and although I do not expect all of you to survive, know that there is no higher calling than martyrdom in the name of the Emperor.” She waited for her words to settle, before continuing.

“The first order of business is to establish a planet-side base of operations from which we can use as a staging ground for further operations. Such a place must be located in the Upper Hive, must be large enough to quarter a significant number of personnel, and most importantly, must be easily defensible.” She would swish a gloved hand through the air, the servitor detecting the motion and automatically changing the projection from her face to a map of the city.

“There is one particular place that fits these three criterium perfectly. Although the now-deceased planetary governor spent most of his time aboard the orbital station I am currently located in, he also had a number of residences based in each of the Hive Cities planetside. Under normal circumstances, simply moving into these and requisitioning them would be remarkably easy what with the governor dead, however, unfortunately, our job will be made harder for a number of reasons. Let it never be said that the Emperor’s work was easy.”

“Firstly, the estate is well guarded by enforcers loyal to the planetary elite still. Justicar Hektor, it will be your duty, and no doubt your pleasure, to know that you are to be the one to dispatch them. Give them no quarter- they chose their side when they refused to lay down their arms after the execution of the old governor. Disobeying the Inquisition is heresy, and the wages of heresy is death. The guard will be accompanying you, to provide as both backup and to screen away any civilians from getting involved.

“The defence is being led by the governor’s eldest male child, Target Alpha.” Never refer to assassination targets by their name; whilst her wetwork operatives might be deadened to human empathy, she alas had to work to prevent her from feeling sympathy from these heretics. “Also there are a younger female, Target Beta, and an even younger male, Target Gamma. All of them need eradication. Assassins, this task falls to you. If the defenders are being particularly stubbon, use them to break the siege, but by the time my boots reach the planet, all three of them should no longer be breathing. Show no mercy; even the youngest of this accursed line are guilty.” The projector had transformed into images of the three targets, labelled just as the Inquisitor had said them to be.

“Secondly, we have learned that there is a Foundry in the Hive that, according to Mechanicus records, once housed Melta Torpedoes. It is imperative that these weapons do not fall into the hands of any that might use them against us. Magos Null, the duty of your Skitarii begins. Find your fallen brethren, give them the Omnissiah’s peace, and recover any instruments of destruction they may have forged. When you are complete in your duty, the manor should be clear and ready for the weapons to be housed. Their protection and eventual usage falls to you, Magos.

“Sisters and Brothers of the Ecclesiarchy and Tempestus, your duties are less monumental yet no less essential. Like every wretched Hive, Hive IV has no shortage of gangs. Your duties will be to expunge two of the most powerful. Reduce their quarters to rubble and their men to slag. The power vacuum left behind should leave the gangs too focused on clawing at each other to launch an assault on our new base of operations. Further specifics will be communicated to you after this message.” The image retuned to that of her face. “Lastly, ladies, gentleman and magos, your thought of the day. It is by the manner of their death that you will know the heretic, the mutant, and the xenos.”

The message cut out. Standing from the seat, the servitor mindlessly babbling a “farewell, Inquisitor,” she would raise a finger to the commsbead within her ear and tap it twice, cycling through channels. 

“Stanislaus. Prepare your retinue and report to the shuttle bay of this ship. You have another chance to prove yourself to the Emperor. I will explain once you arrive.”