Chereads / Warhammer 40k : John The Inquisitor / Chapter 5 - Something Strange

Chapter 5 - Something Strange

The priest didn't look up but responded in his eerie, electronic voice. "Please, Inquisitor, call me David. I am a sage of the Mechanicus, not some fleshy sea creature."

Lancelot grinned. "Oh, you should ask old Olaf about the giant squids on his frozen, broken moon. He'll talk your ear off about them."

David didn't turn around but grumbled electronically, "That's not me. Now, what is it you want, Inquisitor? You didn't come all the way here to reminisce, did you?"

John and Lancelot exchanged a glance and shrugged. John stepped closer to the Thunderhawk, looking up at its imposing bulk. "How's she doing?" he asked, his tone more casual than it probably should've been.

David's voice crackled in the air. "I've repaired the external damage, but the machine spirit is... restless. You can't just go charging into an orc fleet next time. This is a gunship, not a battleship."

John raised an eyebrow, amused. "I'll try my best," he said, turning his attention to a nearby workbench, where several strange, bulky weapons lay. He picked up a massive, crude-looking gun. It was so large that he had to use both hands to lift it. The thing was heavy, clunky, and completely unrefined, yet unmistakably dangerous.

"Have you figured out how these greenskin contraptions work?" John asked, passing the weapon to Lancelot, who took it easily and tested its weight in his hands.

"I don't get it," Lancelot muttered. "How do these things not just... explode the moment they're fired?"

David, still engrossed in his work, didn't even look up. His robotic arms moved with fluid precision, welding and reshaping metal as sparks flew around him. "I can't analyze them," he replied with an electronic hiss. "They don't follow the basic rules of physics. I tried dissecting the orks once, but the mysteries... they're beyond me."

John gave a knowing smile. "Don't push yourself too hard, my friend. Some things can't be understood in a single moment." He reached out, running a hand along the Thunderhawk's sleek surface. The machine spirit inside seemed to stir slightly, as though responding to his touch.

David, still focused on his work, spoke up. "So, Inquisitor, what's the real reason you've come? You're not here for small talk, and you certainly didn't come to look at my little machines."

John nodded, a glint of something more serious in his eyes. "You're right, David. I do need something from you. I need you to prepare this ship. We've got trouble coming."

"Trouble, eh?" David didn't pause in his work but responded in his usual monotone. "I suggest you find a starport soon, one that's run by the Mechanicus. That way, we can make final preparations."

John smirked slightly. "I've heard there's a big shipyard in the satellite ring near Victoria's main star. I'm sure you and your colleagues can handle the last few details there."

Just then, John's communicator buzzed. He glanced down at his wrist, surprised to see Bryan's face flicker to life on the screen. The pharmacist's expression was serious.

"John, you need to talk to Lancelot and get back to the bridge. I've already notified the Wolves. Things are... moving fast."

John raised an eyebrow. "What's going on?"

"Don't know yet," Bryan replied, his face tense. "But we need to make some decisions. Get here quickly."

The holographic transmission cut out. John and Lancelot exchanged another glance, then shrugged simultaneously. Without another word, they turned to leave. "I'll get the Thunderhawk prepped and ready," David called after them. "Go on. I'll handle this end."

John gave him a quick nod, and they both walked off, the loud whirring of David's mechanical arms filling the space behind them.

Bryan stood before the flickering holographic display, his piercing blue eyes fixed on the blinking red dot in the middle of the star map. His brow was furrowed in thought. Beside him, Randy stood in silent contemplation. Even Robert, the hulking son of Ultramar, was deep in thought, his gaze locked on the screen.

The beacon kept pulsing on the display, the red dot flashing ominously. John entered the room, followed by the three Astartes warriors, all of them moving in a near-silent formation. They gathered around the hologram, the giants looming like a wall around the table. John stood directly opposite Bryan, his gaze shifting from the map to the grim expressions of the others. "Alright, Bryan," John said, breaking the silence. "What's going on?"

Bryan cleared his throat, his voice carrying so everyone in the room could hear. "We've been traveling through the Warp for over a month now. According to the navigator and the Adeptus Mechanicus divination instruments, we're nearing the edge of the Victoria system. We're approaching the local Mandeville Point. Thankfully, time distortion hasn't been a problem—yet."

Robert pointed to the flashing red dot on the map. "So if the Emperor wills it, we'll be out of here soon enough?"

Bryan's expression darkened. "Unfortunately, Robert, that's not entirely the case." With a flick of his wrist, the map zoomed in, and a space station appeared—suspended in the black void of space. It was a standard deep-space exploration station, a sentinel at the edge of the system, designed for early warning and long-range observation. 

The red dot was blinking from the station, and it wasn't a good sign.

 Johnson stared at the looming space station, his brow furrowing in thought. "So, you're telling me something's wrong here?" he asked, his voice low but thoughtful.

"Yes, Old Wolf, you're as sharp as ever," Bryan replied, giving the veteran warrior a nod of respect.

Robert glanced at the station, then threw up a hand in exasperation. "The Astropath got a message, but as usual, it's all wrapped up in riddles. Just like the damned Eldar. Why can't they speak plainly?"

"That's how they communicate, Robert," Tony replied with a slight smile, holding his winged helmet under his arm.

 "Ancient custom, and not one I'm fond of either. But surely you Fenrisians respect tradition, no?"

Robert gave him a dismissive snort. "Our customs are practical, not full of flowery nonsense. And who needs riddles when a good axe does the job?"

Tony chuckled softly, but the atmosphere shifted when Bryan's expression turned serious. "This time, it's worse than usual," he said. "Our Astropath, Ms. Alia, couldn't make heads or tails of it. Not even a single word."

The mood in the room darkened immediately. The Astartes, once joking, now stood still, eyes narrowing in concern. "That's bad," Johnson muttered, his voice carrying a weight of experience. "Ms. Alia is a top-tier Astropath. Trained on Terra, no less. If she can't decode it, something serious is going on."

Bryan nodded gravely, his hands clasped behind his back. "We've ruled out subspace interference. The power of the Warp didn't mess with the communication. If anything, it boosted it. Ms. Alia believes whoever sent the message may have sacrificed their life to fuel it—burning all their psychic energy in a desperate attempt to reach us."

John, deep in thought, rubbed his chin. "What was the message itself about? Any clues?"