Going once, going Trice

Inquisitor Drake requests a team acquire a book at a his class auction. Oskar Sorakin, Hana Modrak, Acid, Benedikt Kantner, Maddox Kirriad respond, acquire the book and then deal with the fallout, namely Oskar’s sister being kidnapped.

Briefing

+++TO: Obelisk
+++FROM: Inquisitor Eidan Drake
+++PRIORITY: IMMEDIATE
+++SUBJECT: Auction

Dear whoever's in right now,

Team Trojan is out in Machadon working on a case involving House Damashima's shipping business. Lovely weather here in Corvellum; please see the insufferably smug group photo attached.

We've just learned that House Damashima is hosting an auction at their mansion in Sejanus. Rare goods and antiques, largely irrelevant to us. I think, however, that they’re planning to sell a copy of a very old text called Trice’s Glossary, which I grant you doesn’t sound particularly exciting, but which is far too dangerous to fall into the wrong hands. The trouble is, if you march into the auction and lock it down using Inquisitorial authority, you’ll compromise our operation here in Machadon. I need you to pose as buyers; you’ll need to cobble together some sort of cover story and make sure it holds together if they try to verify your credentials.

Primary objective is to acquire the text. Secondary objectives are to take note of who bids on it, and try and work out if they understand what they’re buying. Most of these up-spire fools might just be bidding for it because it’ll be old and rare, and we don’t want to arrest important people for no reason; that could impact the sector’s political stability. Just note down suspects you’re genuinely concerned about, and my team will handle them when we return.

So far as I know, the Glossary is one of the most extensive intact lists of terms from the Ur-tongue, and contains extensive discussion on the subject. If you don’t know what the Ur-Tongue is, look it up. I’m not discussing it here, even over a secure encryption. Lord Damashina is currently here on Machadon and has, I think, made a copy of the book, but stands to make a huge amount of money by selling the original.

By the time you get this it may only be hours before the auction, and I’m sorry to put you - whoever you are - in such a rushed position. Trust me when I say the stakes of ruining operational secrecy here on Machadon are even higher than the stakes of letting this book be purchased by an unknown buyer.

Emperor go with you.

Sincerely,
Drake

+++MESSAGE ENDS

The Mission

The team split into two groups, with Acid in reserve piloting a servo-skull. With some difficulty, they managed to acquire the book and identify the other most interested parties; and agent of House Availanti, and Sana Queln, a cousin of House Queln. Unfortunately this came at the cost of most of House Sorakin’s liquid assets.

Sometime later, the main residence of House Sorakin was raided by extremely competent mercenaries, who searched the library and vault, failed to find the book (which was safely secured in the Obelisk) and kidnapped Oskar’s eldest sister Sovel Sorakin. Lady Sorakin called Oskar who asked the other Agents to assist him in recovering her.

The Agents rescued Sovel from the mercenaries and traced the client, Sana Queln, catching her as she fled the system. With a thorough interrogation it was discovered that she had been trying to acquire the book in order to impress the main House Queln and be permitted to join in their heretical activities. This testimony very thoroughly confirmed the somewhat suspect information that had been acquired during The Heresy Of Bastian Queln.

Aftermath

Oskar spent a long time feeling guilty for financially ruining his family in service to the Inquisition, and then even moreso when his sister was kidnapped. Fortunately later Drake went some way to helping solve this problem.

Communications

+++TO: Interrogator Maximus Drent
+++FROM: A(|D
+++SUBJECT: Who's the boss?

Hey, shit-for-brains, when you went galivanting off and left me at the Obelisk did you intentionally leave me in charge or did it not even fucking occur to you? To put it another way, are you a fucking bastard of a fucking idiot?

Oskar came up with a mission and obviously as it was his mission he was in charge, but he was a bit wet about the whole thing and Hana, angel of grace and mercy that she is, wrote to Drake about it, who writes back and says I'm in charge by dint of time served. In case you somehow failed to notice, I am not a leader. I’m barely even a field agent, I normally sit in the truck and do the tech work with very occasional moments of mech-based ultra-violence.

So did you intentionally leave me, someone manifestly unqualified, in charge of the fucking fortress of the Inquisition, or did you in fact not even think about who was going to represent to Holy Ordos when you fucked off? Seems like the sort of thing an Interrogator should probably be considering.

I’m not a grass like Hana, so I’m not gonna bitch to Michael about it, but Amon knows, obviously, so don’t be surprised if you don’t get many cookies for a while.

With all due respect to Your Lordship Interrogator Drent, kindly do one.

Acid

P.S. If you don’t get your arse back here to relieve me as soon as your mission can possibly allow, I am going to add you to the blacklist of every pub and eatery in the whole Emperor-forsaken hive.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

---

+++TO: A(|D
+++FROM: Interrogator Maximus Drent
+++SUBJECT: Re: Who's the boss?

So I’m sensing some hostility, however, yes. I did.

Vandemaar needed a scummy type with xeno experience to go undercover, it was between me and you, and I wasn’t sending you. You’ve been doing this just as long as me and you’ve got your shit together. You don’t like leading but that doesn’t mean in a pinch that you don’t know how to do it, dipshit esteemed colleague. This was a pinch.

Did I foresee Oskar’s sister getting kidnapped? Evidently not.

Will I bear your hatred of command in mind for the future? Sure.

Would I make the same decision again between leaving you in the Obelisk or sending you undercover? You bet your fucking ass.

Vandemaar should be done with me in a week or so, if you’re still pissed then you can smack me in person (stepladders permitting), but I maintain you’re an effective (albeit ragey) little shit who I trust to know what she’s doing and apparently you got the job done.

Also: don’t hold a man’s biscuits to ransom. What kind of sicko are you?

Cordially,

His Lordship Interrogator Drent

P.S. Who calls them eateries?

+++MESSAGE ENDS

---

+++TO: Interrogator Maximus Drent
+++FROM: A(|D
+++SUBJECT: Re: Who's the boss?

Oh, you did, did you? And did you also consider it might be important to fucking tell me?! Now I look like a prick to Drake because apparently everyone but me knew I was supposed to be in charge.

I have not been doing this just as long as you, I happen to know Michael wasn't even an Inquisitor back when you joined! And also, length of service is a stupid metric to go on. I may have my shit together (mostly), and do basically know the ropes, and I don't even mind leading a fire team or whatever, but actual leadership in the Inquisition boils down to making the hard decisions about who lives and who dies. It’s a life of trolley problems Max, that’s what you’ve signed up for, and that’s not me.

Do you remember Sematin? He was a Techpriest aboard the Pollaster. I had to vent him into space to save all our lives. He was a dead man anyway, it was just a matter of time and a question of if we'd go with him, but I couldn't do it. If Ash hadn’t been there shouting at me then you, me and Ash would all be dead now, or worse.

I'm a tool Max, a really incredibly useful and multi-talented tool. I don't make the big decisions, I can't, it's not me. I'm glad people like you and Ash and Michael can, but I can't. It's not that I can't do the maths and understand the optimal option, I just… can't make that choice. It’s not about what I like, it's about me getting everyone killed.

Anyway, I'm not holding your biscuits to ransom, I'm just telling you that it’s a standard pattern that people who upset me get fewer treats from Amon. I don’t make the rules, I just think it's only fucking polite to tell people about those rules when they are directly affected by them.

P.S. Educated people call them eateries Max, it's a generic term that covers all the places where you can eat food.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

---

+++TO: A(|D
+++FROM: Interrogator Maximus Drent
+++SUBJECT: Re: Who's the boss?

Yes, I remember what happened to Sematin. I was there.

I know why you don't want to lead. I'm not saying I'm going to leave you in charge all the time, or fuck off at every available opportunity. It was an emergency and I made a choice. I told you I was leaving, and that you were the most senior (and incredibly useful and multi-talented) agent. Seniority doesn't automatically mean you're in charge. If it did, Gaius would be running everything. Or that really crusty servitor on floor 22. It's whoever’s best for the job. In this case, it sounds like you were, but it won't always be. I trusted you guys to make a judgement call.

If I didn't make it clear that meant you might have to take charge should something come up, then I'm sorry: that's on me. But I stand by the decision.

Tell Michael, if you really feel I fucked up (he'll get the report saying I left anyway).

Or tell me when I get back.

Or both.

P.S. Barely. I knew Michael as an Interrogator for all of about five minutes before he got raised to Inquisitor. Obelisk wise, there's a couple of months between you and me at best.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

---

Oskar paused outside Drake’s office, wiping already-sweaty palms on his jacket in an effort not to seem quite as much of a nervous wreck as he currently was.

He closed his eyes for a moment, breathed out slowly, reached into one pocket to touch the snack bar he kept there, secure in its silver foil. His heartbeat started to slow. You’ll be fine, he told himself. You’ll be fine. You’ll be fine.

He pulled his hand from his pocket, and opened his eyes. He was fine. He was fine. Or at least - he might be on the way to it.

His knock was answered with a “Come in,” and Oskar pushed the door open with a timid smile. “Inquisitor,” he murmured.

The place looked tidier than when he’d seen it last, papers and detritus in some sort of order. Oskar allowed himself to be ushered towards armchairs in the corner of the room, and took a seat. “Thank you. I - um - I wanted to discuss the mission. That I just went on. With the others.”

Drake raised an eyebrow. ‘I read the post-incident reports. I've no idea what it's like to have a close relative involved in something like that, but I imagine it was rather dreadful. I'm also stunned that you were in operational control during the early stages, even considering the lack of leadership experience among the other agents present. One would like to think colleagues would know when it's time for them to step up in such circumstances. Rest assured we'll be a lot more careful about having experienced team leaders running the Obelisk skeleton crew in future, with backups and hookers and some sort of card game.’

“It wasn’t their fault,” Oskar said immediately, shaking his head. “I should have been more - well - assertive. If someone brought my sister into the infirmary and told me to operate on her, I’d say no. I should have realised that this was essentially the same thing.”

‘Indeed,’ Drake said. ‘Well, now you know. And how are your family?’

He swallowed. “My family. Um. That was actually what I was hoping to talk to you about. Actually. They’re...” Oskar took a deep breath, tried to ignore the little voice in his head which sounded a lot like his sister Savell: you’ve ruined house Sorakin. “They’re in a spot of trouble. Financial trouble. Because of me.”

He could breathe a little easier, now that he’d actually said it. “And I was thinking about what I could do to help them. The only thing to do, really, is to pay back the money. And to do that, I need to come into some rather extraordinary money myself.” He bit his lip. “So. I was wondering.

“I spoke to an old friend of mine in the navy. He says there’s a list of pirate vessels with huge bounties on them. There’s one, the Inglorious, which would more than pay back my family - there would be some left for the Obelisk coffers, too.” Oskar looked over at Drake with a hopeful half-smile. “So I was wondering if...if you could spare anyone to help me hire some mercenaries and go after it.”

‘Well. It's not an Inquisition job, so I can't officially sanction an operation or order anyone into danger for this. There are however people on this ship with large guns and, I imagine, limited fondness for pirates. If you were to send out a ship-wide message asking for volunteers, I wouldn't stop them going.’

“Thank you.” The words rushed out in relief. Oskar nodded, unable to keep a grin from briefly flashing across his face. “Thank you, Inquisitor. Thank you. This means a lot. I’ll - I’ll go and do that now. Thank you.” He left the room as quickly as he could without (he hoped) being too rude, and jogged all the way to his quarters.

-

Dear all. Oskar here. As you may know, I got my family into some rather dire financial straits on a mission for the Inquisition. The best way I can find to pay them back is to kill some pirates. I’m hoping to hire some mercenaries for this. If anyone on the Trojan would be able to help, I would be hugely grateful.

Pros: killing pirates, helping my family avoid insolvency.

Cons: potential danger of killing aforementioned pirates.

If you’d like to come, please meet me in the shuttle bay at 12:00, where we can form some sort of plan and take the shuttle.

Thank you.

Os.

-

At 11:50, Oskar made his way to the shuttle bay. He placed a hand on the panel, sending up a quick prayer to the Emperor - and when the door slid back, he blinked.

Inquisitor Drake was there. Captain Janacek, too.

Oskar opened his mouth to say something intelligent like what? - but then the door opened behind him, and he spun around. People began to file in.

Nadiya, then Míra and Jentiva. Petersen, Jørgensen and the rest of the Stohlbard cohort. Mendoza turned up and was quietly ushered away by one of the dragoons.Magos Valdarius arrived having rather prematurely donned his power armour. Airi turned up, having clearly been uncertain, but latterly convinced by the presence of Jentiva and Nadiya. Berk lumbered in, keen to be helpful. Finally, indifferent to Oskar’s plight but having caught wind of a good scrap, Hana showed herself in.

Fifteen minutes after the appointed time, there was assembled in the Trojan’s shuttle bay a force that had fought and won against entire squads of Heretic Astartes. They would be borne by a ship that outclassed the Inglorious in both speed and firepower. The question of whether or not they could commandeer the target had now passed so far beyond the realm of uncertainty that the very notion of hiring mercenaries was redundant.

Captain Janacek gave Oskar the hint of a smile, a gleam in her eye. “You won’t be needing that shuttle, Doctor.”

Personnel Involved

• Inquisitor Drake
• Oskar Sorakin
• Hana Modrak
• Acid
• Benedikt Kantner
• Maddox Kirriad