Tadeusz had been captured more than once.
The cost of his faithful service for the benefit of the Golden Throne.
Sometimes you corner the beast, and sometimes the beast corners you…
One could say he had even gotten used to it.
For usually his captors were aware of his position and could therefore provide better conditions (though that wasn’t always the case).
Once, a servant of the Throne had happened to be a prisoner of a dark Eldar archon.
The cunning fiend had chosen the worst time for his raid on an Imperial world — right in the middle of the Inquisitor’s investigation into the activities of a very treacherous and dangerous cult of Tzeentch worshipers, which had managed to extend its tentacles to the very top of the local planetary government…
The Inquisitor had prepared thoroughly for the decisive game back then.
The forces of his Retinue alone were clearly insufficient, and the local PDF regiments were at best compromised, so Tadeusz had asked his old friend from among the Rogue Traders to help him with this matter and quietly transport several loyal Imperial Guard regiments, seasoned with sons of the Tempestus, to the planet.
On the planet itself, the Inquisitor had first secured the support of the Adeptus Arbites and the Sisters of Battle from a small local abbey.
On the day the identities of the cult leaders were established and their connections with the planetary governor were proven, the operation to eliminate the taint was set in motion.
Shortly before the designated dawn, the regiments of the Imperial Guard loyal to the Witch Hunter imposed a curfew, arresting most of the worthless traitors from the local PDF right in their own barracks.
The Sisters of Battle, together with members of the Retinue, descended upon the lair of the vile heretics, leaving only a few of them alive for subsequent interrogation…
Ravenkov himself, at the head of the Sons of Tempestus, went to carry out the sentence on the planetary governor.
A heretic who had sold out the Emperor for personal gain did not deserve the right to an easy death…
However, what the Inquisitor had not foreseen that day was a full-scale planetary invasion by the pointy-eared sadists!
It was a one-sided slaughter.
The forces loyal to the Emperor were clearly insufficient to even delay the xenos, who literally reveled in the suffering of their victims.
The men loyal to the Inquisitor fought to the end, but fell one by one.
Ravenkov himself was ready to go to the Emperor, having first sold his life dearly, but the archon who had orchestrated the slaughter that day ordered the servant of the Golden Throne to be taken alive.
Much later, Tadeusz learned that he himself had been the original target of the Kabal’s master.
The long-eared captor was not a mindless sadist, like most of the inhabitants of the Dark City.
Being one of the few surviving descendants of an aristocratic family after the purges carried out by Asdrubael Vect, the Archon was an elegant and refined sadist, possessing a veneer of common sense.
In all his actions, one could read a disdainful superiority over the worthless beings around him.
Therefore, although the fate of the captured inhabitants and defenders of the Imperial world was truly terrible, the Inquisitor avoided such treatment.
He was even treated more or less civilly.
The xenos was very inquisitive, and often invited Tadeusz for conversations about the Imperium and life within it.
When the Inquisitor was finally decided to be exchanged for Drukhari prisoners, the Eldar saw him off like an old friend.
They honestly swore that at their next meeting, they would do everything to kill each other.
Ravenkov prayed to the Emperor every day that this story would not become known to the Ordo Xenos.
However, left with essentially nothing, Tadeusz was forced to hang up his saber, leaving field operative work for a long time.
Instead, he devoted his life to training future personnel for the Inquisition.
This routine, which had become habitual, continued until one day Tadeusz happened to meet among his students one young and very talented little rascal…
Returning to more pressing problems…
Tadeusz was no fool.
He understood that his presence in the Crusade would be a thorn in Viola’s side.
It was obvious that she would try to get rid of the old man as soon as she had the chance.
And the Inquisitor couldn’t deny that her performance had been beyond all praise.
She’d even replaced the captain…
However, the plan, even with careful preparation, had still failed.
When he was taken prisoner by the offspring of the First, the Inquisitor prepared for the worst.
Legends circulated among Inquisitors about the interrogators of the Lion’s sons and their tortures, each more terrifying than the last.
But despite this, Tadeusz had made his decision, for his own mission was far more important.
That mission was his personal cogitator, or rather its delivery.
Even skilled Magi couldn’t crack the Inquisitor’s device on the first try, which had helped him more than once.
But now the passwords to the necessary information had been removed.
This would undoubtedly interest the high command of the Astartes.
Perhaps that was why he was still alive.
Not on the torture table of one of those interrogators, but kept in a perfectly decent cell.
But what did the Angels of Vengeance need him alive for?
Honoured prisoner?
Without a doubt, he was one of the most significant figures of the Great Crusade.
An informant?
Certainly, the unlocked records on his cogitator could not have failed to attract the attention of the Inner Circle.
And what if… “Inquisitor Tadeusz, please come with me.” Turning around, the servant of the Throne saw two massive Astartes.
Both were armed, but for now he saw no aggression in their actions.
Then they put him in handcuffs and led him out of the cell.
An ordinary technical corridor held no interest for the agent of the Throne.
Void-born and servitors respectfully let their procession pass, shipboard security service fighters saluted, and a procession of priests blessed them with the aquila.
“How strange,” the inquisitor continued to think.
“Very strange.
They’re leading me through crowds of people.
Why not clear the path?” Meanwhile, they reached an elevator, ascended, and continued on, their path now lying through a completely empty corridor.
Perhaps these were the quarters of the officer watch, currently occupied with commanding the ship?
If so, that was even better — Tadeusz had never liked unnecessary noise.
The procession approached the door of one of the quarters.
Ravenkov expected many things.
A prison cell full of vicious prisoners, a cage of mutants, even the infamous torture chamber!
After all, who knew what might be hidden among the ship’s decks.
But instead, he was presented with a chamber that looked more like the dwelling of a ship’s officer.
Why?
But what struck him most was not this.
A massive man (though was it right to call him a man?) sat at a table reading a book.
It seemed he hadn’t even noticed the visitors.
But then he closed the book and raised his head.
The inquisitor flinched.
The face, the eyes, the hair — the entire appearance seemed a perfect match for the statues of the Primarch Lion El’Jonson that adorned distant Terra.
The armour of a Master.
One of the Three Angelic Swords, the Sword of Valor.
A characteristic snarl.
Today, the Master of the Hunt of the Angels of Retribution himself, Casimir, had decided to meet him.
And the topic of their conversation would clearly not be limited to the contents of the cogitator.
“How are you feeling, esteemed Tadeusz?” he said, as if the man and the Angel were old acquaintances.
“Tolerably,” the witch-hunter replied dryly.
“Then sit down.” Casimir pointed to a chair beside him.
“I don’t think you’ll be comfortable talking standing up.” Walking to the chair, Tadeusz heard the Space Marines who had brought him there turn and leave.
Most likely, to stand guard at the entrance.
To the inquisitor personally, this spoke volumes.
About trust in him, for instance — not every Astartes commander would decide to speak with an interlocutor face to face without any protection.
“I would advise you to read this book later,” Casimir continued imperturbably.
“This is the Book of Caliban.
Quite interesting, even somewhat similar to the Codex Astartes.” “I didn’t know the sons of the Lion had their own codex,” Tadeusz snorted.
“The book appeared much earlier.
Where the pages of Roboute Guilliman’s book reflect the bitterness of treacherous betrayal, my genetic father witnessed the times of the great Triumph,” he said, placing the book on the table.
“Among the sayings of the First described in this work, there is one I have come to like very much: ‘Knowledge is power.
Guard it well.'” “So that’s what I am to you,” the inquisitor said.
“Knowledge.” “Far from it.
To me, you are first and foremost an ally.” “An ally?” Ravenkov repeated.
“Yes.
I am certain that in the future I will have to face the forces of the Great Crusade.
And consequently, Viola Del Shin.” “Please, don’t mention her,” Tadeusz grimaced in response.
“Oh, forgive me.
I forgot how you came to us.” “No, that’s not it,” the Servant of the Throne sighed.
“Our history of enmity began much earlier.
After she stopped being a snot-nosed girl and turned into a calculating bitch.” “I must note, it seemed to me that your colleagues are, to a man, complete paranoids who try not to let anyone get close to them,” the son of the Lion remarked, not mincing words.
“You are certainly right, however, as you can see, every rule has its exceptions,” the inquisitor chuckled at his own weakness, and his true age, hidden behind numerous juvenat treatments, showed on his face.
“It’s hard to believe that she who was like a daughter to you, she whom you raised and taught everything you knew yourself… would do this… so cruelly,” Ravenkov sighed heavily.
“However, if you don’t insist, I’ll save that story for our next conversation.” “As you wish,” the Master of the Hunt shrugged.
“This isn’t an interrogation, after all.” “Then what is it?” “An ordinary conversation,” the Astartes replied.
“I want to understand what kind of man you are.” “You remind me of myself in my best years,” Tadeusz smiled.
“Back then, I also tried to do everything reasonably.
Perhaps because of my mother’s words, so ingrained in my memory: ‘Any argument can be resolved with words.'” “That is a very wise idea.
Frankly, I try to act that way myself, whenever possible.” “As far as I know, you are considered a skilled diplomat among the successor chapters of the First Legion,” Tadeusz clarified.
“You have the correct information.” “But I had problems with diplomacy for a long time,” Tadeusz chuckled.
“After all, a Thorian without diplomatic skills was practically a joke back then.” “And are you still a Thorian now?” The Master of the Hunt was clearly interested in learning more about him.
“No.
I became disillusioned with both the ideas and the methods of the teaching.
I’ve grown too soft and become overly humane, as my beloved daugh… apprentice likes to point out.
I couldn’t watch so many people die for nothing.
That’s why I became a renegade.
But the inquisitors of the Crusade didn’t know about this, and I learned long ago to keep my mouth shut.
So I can bet my beard that Viola is already making me out to be almost a martyr, while you will undoubtedly be called the Arch-traitor on the level of Horus Lupercal and a heretic worse than the False Primarch.” “I don’t intend to bring her plan to life, you needn’t worry,” the son of the Lion stood up from the chair, which had barely held him.
“That’s… quite unusual, especially for the heirs of the First.
To be honest, I thought I’d be sent into open space without a suit as soon as you got the information from the cogitator.” “I’m not as bloodthirsty as some of my brothers.
Besides, that would be a very foolish decision,” Casimir suddenly pulled his cogitator out from under his pauldron.
“Speaking of the cogitator, you can take it back.
We won’t need it anymore.” “Returning it so simply?” Tadeusz was surprised.
“You know, Inquisitor, I’ve always believed that trust is the first step towards building a reliable alliance.
Right now, I trust you.
But will you trust me?” Tadeusz was stunned to the core.
Such a treasure, and simply returned to his hands?
Perhaps the locks had been an obstacle for them, but knowing the Astartes, that was unlikely.
Even without locks, it was an important item that wouldn’t be given back so easily.
Now Ravenkov looked at the personality of one of the leaders of the Angels of Retribution differently.
“Yes, Master of the Hunt.
I will trust you.” Casimir smiled, which simultaneously surprised and frightened him.
For a second, it seemed like a deal with the devil.
But then the terrifying visage seemed to evaporate, and his interlocutor was already extending his hand.
“They say in the days of Old Terra, agreements were sealed with handshakes.
Do you agree to shake my hand and join my forces, entrusting yourself and your retinue to my authority?” “I agree, as long as I and my people are not harmed,” he extended his hand and carefully shook the gauntlet of the armour.
“Right now, I felt like I was in Viola’s place.
Managed to get out of a dangerous situation for myself, but forgot about my ship and my people.” “You needn’t worry.
The crew of your ship mostly surrendered, so there are no significant losses.
The old captain may have already perished in the cells, but the new one has shown unconditional loyalty.
As for the retinue…” Tadeusz didn’t like the pause.
He noticed that the Angel of Death seemed to feel unwell.
“They are fine, you can be assured of that.” At that moment, the door swung open, and one of the Space Marines who had accompanied him entered the room, which had now become the inquisitor’s temporary home: “Master, you asked me to repor…” he noticed Ravenkov.
“May I deliver the news in his presence?” “Of course.
From now on, he is our ally.” “Very well,” the warrior nodded and continued.
“Our flotilla has encountered a ship from the forces of the Imperium.” “Pursuit, is it?” the Master of the Hunt asked, with clear anticipation in his voice.
“No, Master.
It is the Stormwalker.” Hearing this, Casimir’s expression changed.
It was as if he had heard of the return of an old comrade he hadn’t seen for many years.
Dismissing his subordinate, he headed for the exit.
But before that, he turned to Tadeusz: “This is not our last meeting, Inquisitor.
I hope the Book of Caliban and other books, as well as… hmm… a special gift, will make your time pass pleasantly.” “Of course,” he nodded.
“But before you go, could you tell your ally the reason for such haste?
What does the arrival of this Stormwalker signify?” “What does it signify?” Casimir repeated thoughtfully.
Then he bared his teeth in a grin.
“It signifies that which may shake this unknown galaxy.
It signifies the arrival of the Wolves.”