# Blood Of The Martyrs



## Whiskey Ghost (Nov 22, 2009)

Well, this is my first post here and I wold like to say "Hi" ^^
So, the matter at hand, the FanFic. I hope you will like it, it is about an ...
well you'll find out.:grin:
I do realize I borrowed some names. I sincerely hope that it is ok with you, nothing scandalous I assure you ^^.
Parts 1 & 2 are ment as an introduction, whilist the story "begins" from the third part.
Once again, I sincerely hope you will like it.

*Part 1- The Purgation*

-"Order!"- Yelled the moderator of transactions banging his steel staff, a symbol of authority, on the white marble floor of the council chamber.

His voice echoing in the vast arena, built so that the person who stood in the center , where the moderator was standing in this very moment, was to be heard throughout the arena. And his voice was heard. The myriad Councilors and the House representatives heeded his word, and sat on the cold stone benches. Each row of benches was placed higher than the last one, creating a stadium-like chamber. The large crowd calmed, and waited for the moderator to speak again, their faces tense with expectation. After a few seconds, when everyone was seated, the moderator spoke again.

-"House Vandis has the word" – continued the moderator as a figure in red velvet robes arose onto it's feet. Passing the large stone pillars, which possesed ancient ornate motifs carved into their octagonal structure. They spoke of great deeds and victories, as well as they supported heavy rockcrete roof above with a dome in the middle. The hole in the center of the dome allowed the light of the dawn to sneak into the chamber, coloring the room with white and blue light of the hydrogen-saturated sun. The figure passed the front row and two more figures in red robes stood up to follow the first one. The figures continued to the center, when two of the peacekeepers moved to deny them entry, the leading figure raised it's right hand and a burst of bright purple light left the open palm of his raised hand. The peacekeepers' faces became an expression of surprise and fear, as they moved aside to allow them passage. They climbed to the plinth where the moderator stood. They removed their hoods and revealed their faces. One man and two women were now standing in front of the moderator.

-"What is this?"-he said-"Where's governor Vandis?" - demanded the moderator, his voice filled with anger, his hazel brown eyes ablaze.

After all, who dared to interfere with the work of the Administratum? The man standing in front of him revealed his face. His patrician features possesed immense authority, and his, long, chalk white hair fell on his shoulders, the fiery emerald green eyes looked right through the moderator, as if he was transparent, which scared the moderator even more than the thought of what would happen next. The man raised his right hand and the purple light once again bursted from his palm. The moderator opened his mouth, but did not speak. He was too astouned, and his trembling hands handed the staff to the man, who grabed it hastily, yet firmly. He passed the two women who's faces could be considered pretty, but their dark stormcloud eyes anulled any beauty that was reflected from their faces by the blue-white light of the sun. The tatoo of the ornate capital „I" set on their left cheek, right below their left eye, did not add to their beauty, although that was a point of view.

He handed one of them the thick steel staff which was five centimeters in diameter, with the double headed Imperial Aquila made of pure gold ornamented with the most rare, beautiful, jewles available to man was set at the head of the staff. The staff glistened with golden light, that was the sign of authority to whomsoever set eyes upon it's glory. The man placed both hands on the railing made from the wood most rare on that planet, and therefore fairly expensive. The railing was very thick and ornamented with laurels of victory that spoke of His eternal glory.

Then he spoke: -"Governor Vandis is not able to make it to this meeting. He is indisposed."-
He was ready to speak again when somenone interrupted him.

-"Who are you?" – yelled a voice from the auditorium, and the crowd demanded the answer.

-"I am..."– he said as he reached for an object contained into a box of pluvian obsidian embossed with single motif, of a grinning skull.
– "Inquistor Matthais Vanadeo of the Holy Order of The Emperors Inquisition." -and a simple motto, "Innocentia Nihil Probat" or "Innocence Proves Nothing". Below the skull was written in capital letters - Ordo Hereticus.

His voice infused with authourity, was echoing thorought the auditorium. The attendans looked each other with a face full of astonishment.

-"It has come to the attention of the Inquisition that voices of heresy echo through this planet, voices of hatred..."- he continued looking at the confused and scared stares of the attendants.

-"Voices that are an insult to His glourious majesty – The Emperor!- "
And he pointed to the statues of the Emperor situated in the corners of hexagonal auditorium. The Emperors' left hand held a flaming sword in a reverse grip, and the right one was extended to allow his ethereal might to enter the auditorium. Statue was made of solid gold, and resembled the Emperor's form perfectly. Master artisans from all corners of this world were involved in it's creation.

-"So this task falls to me, to carry out the will of the Inquisition! And after six months on this planet my decision is as follows: Although I know that not everyone is touched by the fell powers of the Immaterium."- his voice was grim but firm.

– "In order to start anew without the capital punishment of an Exterminatus, I have decided that this council is to be purged, together with the following hab-spires : Golgotha, Vangelis, Machairus and the Sancta Heroica. In His glorious name...-

-"You cannot do this!"- echoed from the auditorium- "We are not sinners! I am NOT a sinner!–" as qucikly as those words were spoken more red-robed figures arose from the seats, wielding heavy flamers filled with fast burning, highly falamable, white hot, promethium gas. The gas was oozing from the barrels of freshly used flamers.

-"Accept your punishment!"- shrieked one of the females with the Inquistor. She no longer wore a robe. She no longer shielded herself from the curious stares. She was clad in armour blessed by the Emperor, written all over with litanys of hatred, and adorned with purity seals that spoke of great courage she had presented, the terrible benediction she had granted to all those who were ignorant of the Emperors power and might. All which in His Name, were clensed by the Holy flame. Slightly darkend plates of her cuirass were adorned with the symbols of the Adeptus Sororitas. One of the Order Militant. Order of the Valorous Heart symbol was etched on the front of her armour, which was charcoal black, made of the finest ceramite, contoured perfectly to her form.

„The Emperor knows who is he that had not sinned, may he have mercy on his soul"-shouted Matthais
„We are not sinners, and yet still you treat us as such"-shouted someone from the auditorium, and although he did not know who it was he turned to the direction of the sound.
„It is your duty to live by the Emperors law, and die under it!"-Matthais was furious, his face was twisted in rage

„And now comes the time do your duty!"


„Sister, let loose the Holy flame"-he said, and looked above, through the opening in the dome
"Your will be done"-he whispered.

„Burn the heretic" said the Sister Superior.

Orange flame wreathed the councilors and house representatives, burning them down. The squads of red robed sisters systematically eradicated the assembled crowd with ease even though some of them tried to fight. Those who fought were either burnt down quickly or beheaded by fast swipes of the Sororitas combat blades, and then burned to ash.

One of the councilors or house representatives broke through and leapt across the railing , falling in front one of the Sororitas. She lowered her flamer, and drew her blade, moving to cut his head form his shoulders. A mistake, for the man was armed. He unholstered his las-pistol, and shot her in the head, leaving a burnt-down mark where the lasbolt penetrated her flesh, had she wore a helmet it would have ended differently.

Matthias had seen him before he shot the sister. He turned his las-pistol towards him firing a couple of shots. One struck it's supposed target but it was absorbed by the Rosarius.

Matthias's eyes turned silver, as light shone from them. He raised his left hand , his psychic force lifting the attacker with ease. His hand formed a fist, and the man twisted as his spine was crushed, he waved away his hand and slammed him into the wall with the sound of crushing stone. He fell to the floor, dead a long time ago.

He watched the purgation, distancing himself from this act, for a moment longer, then turned on his heels and left the sisters to do their duty as the Emperor has willed.

*Part 2 - The Order*

„Governor, I said no!" yelled Matthais
„But why?"- asked governor Vandis, his voice pleading.
„Last time someone entrusted you with ruling a planet heretics usurped the law" barked the Inquisitor „Now I am in command of this planet until the law is restored and all heretics hounded to death. After this is done the Administratum will task a new governor to rule."
„Listen, I was born here, chosen by the very people that live on this planet." –demanded the governor „ Do you think they will accept the law of someone that does not know this planet, or its people?"
„Governor"...- Matthais interrupted him – „They are all the Emperor's servants, as you and I am. They will accept the rule of his regents, without question. Who are they to question his will?"
Matthais furiously moved one step closer to the governor looking him in the eye. His green eyes were penetrating his thoughts.

Light from torches in the chamber shined on both the Inquisitor and the failed governor. The room was not large, as it was the Inquisitor's sanctum. Large bookcases decorated the walls, and the symbol of the Imperium was etched in the doors. Behind the Inquisitor
the standard of the Inquisition hung from the wall. From the ceiling to the metallic floor. The black flag adorned with the ornate red capital „I" was a symbol of righteousness for every man in the Imperium.

„I want my last chance" –insisted the governor.

„The only last chance you will get is one in the penal legion, bleeding on the battlefields of Segmentum Obscurus! Administratum decides your fate, the Arbites will judge you. I already informed them that you are too incompetent to be a heretic, you would most likely mess that up too. Not to mention your abillities as a governor lord bypass all forms of ignorance and supidity. How you got elected is beyond me."-raged the Inquisitor, his words laced with venom

„I do..." –governor was cut short by the Inquisitor "Enough! Return to your chamber governor, you have wasted far to much of my time."

„Very well"-said the governor, his face sadend at this insult to his competence, but he dared not speak aganist the venerated Inquisitor.

He turned and strode through the door, pausing at the exit he bowed his head and whispered
„His will be done."

The door closed shut, and the Inquisitor breathed out. He walked slowly behind his work desk and sat on the chair. He placed his hands on his head, rubbing his temples and his forehead, venting out the pressure of the day. For it was more than he used to absorb.
He took deep breaths, taking in as much air as he could, as if that would remove his troubles. And such was the life of an Inquisitor, tireless, ever-vigilant. Especially one psychically sensitive as Matthais. With the Warp watching his every move, his every step, his every breath, he dared not to let his guard down, lest his mind be consumed by the Immaterium. He pulled back his white hair tight, and, with quick motions, tied it with a band, forming a knot.
He bowed his head down, shut his eyes and clenched his teeth, as the migraine began to form in his mind. He moaned in pain, and reached into one of the many drawers of the table. Taking out a bottle of pills, he hastily unscrewed the cork, and put his index finger inside it, grabbing one of the pills. He pulled it out alongside the plastic casing, and swallowed it quickly. The taste was bitter, but it was medicine, so he was somewhat content with it. He sticked his tongue out and twisted his face in a grimace showing his discomfort. He calmed down after a few seconds, and the pill started to take effect, and he breathed out once again.
-„Argh! Warp damned migraines"-he whispered, and he rested against the back of the chair. Drowsily he relaxed, as the medicine slowly started to take over him. He fell asleep, only to be roused back to awareness by Sister Adriana, who entered his quarters, her boots scraping metal.

With discomfort he pulled himself upright using his hands for support.

-„Yes Sister,"-he said "what is it?"-

-„I'm sorry m'lord, did I wake you?"-she said with a soft voice

„Yes you did, but what is it?"-he said, trying to make a smile, but failing miserably as the medicine relaxed his muscles.

„I apologize, but I bring news"-she reported –„of the purgation."

-„What news?"-he was curious

-„I'm afraid we have run into resistance"

-„So?"-he wondered-„We run into resistance every time we make a purgation, not everyone is willing to burn for no reason, even the sinless."- he said with irony

He knew that they burn innocents as well as heretics, but it was only to ensure that their task be done proper.

„-Armed resistance m'lord"-she said

-„So? It's not like your sisters are not well armed and armored"

-„These heretics are armed with las-guns, bolters, krak grenades and melta bombs..."-she informed

-„Well that is a surprise."-he smiled -"Good thing we brought that Raven Guard with us, and his company too."

-„Korvalen?"-she wondered

„Yes, he is a former member of the Shrike's Wing, if I'm not mistaken"-he said, almost amused-"He returned to _normal_ duty for reasons beyond my knowledge."

„M'lord"-she added-"We also found this.."

She pulled out a piece of cloth holding it between her index and thumb, it dangled. He saw a symbol on it and some text, but it was to far for him to discern what was it, and the migraine did not help his eyesight either, so he gestured his hand indicating that she should throw it on the table.
She tossed it and it spun in the air flying towards the desk, as it fell on the table it caught the edge of a bottle of amasec, which stood on the table, and tipped the glass bottle over. Falling on the metallic floor beside him and breaking into pieces. The sound was louder then bolter fire, as it rang in his skull. He moaned in agony, and pressed his hands against his temples hard, pulling the skin and flesh of his face upwards, out of instinct, he hoped that that would ease his pain, or so he bluffed himself and, the thought, the migraine too. Once the pain had gone, after a second or two, he leaned back looking at the broken bottle and spilled amasec on the floor, the red fluid and silvery glass glistened in the torchlight. He looked curiously to the Sister, then back to the spilled amasec, then back to the Sister again and said, resting his hand on the armrest:

-„That was good amasec"-he noted with a grain of sarcasm in his voice

-„I'm sorry m'lord"-she apologized staring onto the metallic floor

-„Raise your head sister, never mind the amasec"-he said smiling a bit

-„Yes, m'lord"- she too smiled, but very little, and very brief

He reached for the cloth on the table with his hand, but it was too far from him, and he was too drowsy and tired to lift himself upwards so he strained his hand as far as he could, and tried to grasp it with his middle finger pulling it slowly towards him, but it was almost impossible to pull leather against the polished, shining, wood, that was the material of which this table was made.

-„You did not read any of this, did you?" He asked looking her in the eyes

-„No, m'lord, I didn't"-she answered

He nodded and continued pulling at the cloth

He eventually got tired of futile pulling and he got himself up using the armrest as a support with his other hand. He grabbed and lifted the cloth from the table using his one free hand, and once again rested against the support. He opened it and read the inscription, moving his lips slowly and without sound, his eyes following the lines of text with hardship.

„So..." he pondered for some time, reading the text"this goes deeper than I originaly thought"

And as he read the text he felt the claws of unnatural beings carve their way into his mind, and for a moment he struggled to keep his own sanity. He strained hard, and finally tore free of their grasp

-"Emperor's blood!" - he cursed, throwing the leathery cloth back onto the table with disdain.

-„M'lord, are you all right?" asked the worried Adepta

-„Hm?"-he got lost –„Oh, I'm fine now" he said grimly, as he regained his sense

He raised the cloth, grabbing it on one end to look upon it again, this time with caution. Careful not to read the acursed words of the fallen. As it hung from his hand, it spun a little, the letters and the symbol turned to fluid, dripping from the end of the cloth on the polished surface of the table. Curious, he raised his hand a bit, and moved it around examining the fluid dripping on the parchments, into the inkwell, and on the seals that were on the table.

-„Is that..."-the Adepta wondered

He put it aside and used his index finger to probe the liquid. He turned the finger towards him and smeared the liquid on his index using is thumb, moving it in slow, circular, motions. He closed his index to his nose and smelt deep. The smell reminded him of rusted iron. The smell of:

„Blood?"-the Adepta finished her sentence
„Tainted blood" – he noted - „Daemon blood"- he corrected himself, speaking those words as if the daemons themselves would find him just for voicing their name.

He stood up quickly, and as he stood up he pushed his chair scraping metal and his skull, but he paid no attention to the pain building up inside his head. He grasped the candle and the cloth, uniting the flame of the candle with the material of the cloth, although it was leathery it burned fairly quickly and he let it fall to the surface of his desk, the fire swallowed up the parchment, turned blood to smelly vapour ,but not the polish as it was made to prevent wood from burning, leaving a dark mark on the center of the desk .

He looked the Adepta in the eyes with his firey, emerald green, determination. She saw that look before many times, she knew he had made his mind. She stood at attention and said:

-„Give the order."


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