Immediately following The Rosa Project.

Rosa becomes possessed by the demon Iqshalla'rakshanoresh, rips the Obelisk apart and kills Inquisitor Kovach before being destroyed.

It Begins

Drake felt the presence of the demon as it passed him and entered the room. His eyes wide with fear, he said "be strong Rosa", stepped out of the cell and slammed the door shut.
On the intercom he ordered all combat agents to the armoury, all non-combat agents to evacuate. He ordered Ash to Psy-Cell 1.
- Ash headed to her room first to grab her weapons, then to Psy-Cell 1.
- Michael, already armed and armoured, headed to Psy-Cell 1.
- Acid went first to the workshop to mount her mech.
- Sarge, Sister Airi and Amon headed to the armoury, along with the Stormtroopers in the building.
- Pretty much everyone else evacuated.
Max was on a stretcher outside the cell with his ankle broken. He tried to get the medics to let him up, but in the end had to resist them sedating him. Drake ordered them to just grab him and go, so they did.
Sarge took charge in the armoury and got everyone kitted up.
Drake sent Ash and Michael to get a teleport homer from the armoury and deploy it on the landing pad.

Possession

Whilst Rosa resists the demon as hard as she can, it breaks through her mind-wipe and reveals her original memories to her. With the emotional shock of uncovering her past, it breaks her defences and takes possession.
It's first target is Drake, and it rips the walls apart to cut him off as he retreats.
It lifts him up telekineticaly lifts him up breaks his arm, but he manages to resist it momentarily.
Rosa, distraught at the pain being caused to a man she admired but trapped in the back of her own mind, raged against the demon; temporarily distracting it. In the moment of reprieve, Drake managed to escape and fled to the lift.
Deprived of one target, the demon went after Max instead.
The demon ripped the walls apart as the medics carried Max down a corridor to evacuate. As the entire floor was shredded and they were all knocked down by collapsing walls, their courage broke and they abandoned Max.
With impressive agility Max hopped away as the demon piloting Rosa's body floated along behind him.
As Max ducked into a stairwell, the demon was distracted by three Stormtroopers trying to make it down to the armoury. It shredded them and used their deaths to summon 9 Bloodletters.
Iqshalla'rakshanoresh spread out its senses. It sent some Bloodletters down the stairwell after Max, one to the now-broken lift where it could sense Drake was trapped, and the rest upstairs to slaughter stranded staff members. Iqshalla'rakshanoresh headed to Kovach's office where it had detected the presence of a powerful psyker within a well warded office that had, until then, been hidden.
As he headed down the stairwell fleeing the Bloodletters, Max's nerve broke and he hit the intercom and called for help.
- Sarge held his nerve and despite his personal desires, held his position.
- Michael, returning from deploying the teleport homer and having just ducked into his office to pick up what appeared to be a regular laspistol from a secret drawer in his desk, diverted himself and Ash to Max's location.
As they ran Ash reminded Michael that he would not be able to see a demon when he was near her. Upon sighting Max, Michael fired some shots at the empty space Max appeared to be staring at, but with no results.
The Bloodletter, being shot at by foes it could not sense, threatened Max in an attempt to force them to show themselves. Max ducked out as Ash and Michael, oblivious to the threat, ran into him.
Ash's null aura obliterated the Bloodletter.
With Ash carrying Max, Michael dropped a frag grenade to cover their retreat as they headed back to the armoury.

Reinforcements

A squad of Grey Knight Terminators arrived at the armoury. They instructed the gathered agents to hold fast and started clearing out the Obelisk.
Acid's Skull Swarm had been scouting the Obelisk, and had taken some casualties. Larry joined up with a pair of Grey Knights and offered them directions to Kovach's office where a Bloodletter was trying to break in.
The Grey Knights gave Acid their comm frequency and access to their tactical net.
She also directed them to where a Bloodletter was assaulting a lift, unaware that Drake was sheltering inside.
Michael arrived at the armoury, and whilst Ash got armoured up, coordinated with the Grey Knights via Acid. Upon hearing they had a Pariah, the Knights directed him to send her and some "faithful warriors" to join them.
Leaving Sgt Bila in charge at the armoury and Max in the care of Specialist Joseph, the Thoratis medic, he took Ash, Sister Airi and Sarge back into the fray.
The demon Iqshalla'rakshanoresh meanwhile had broken into Kovach's office. The first Bloodletter was shredded by defensive turrets, but whilst it did Iqshalla'rakshanoresh was able to break into Kovach's mind with a massive exertion of effort and opened the way for another higher demon.

The Denouement

The demons possessing Rosa and Kovach decided to force their way through the floor to slip past the Grey Knights converging upon them, and assault the armoury.
Acid observed this and updated the Grey Knights and Michael. The Grey Knights changed direction to pursue but Michael, in a better position, diverted his team to intercept.
- As they headed over Michael briefed the others on what Drake had revealed to him before Ash had arrived; that this was Rosa they would be dealing with. He reminded them that Rosa was already dead and they would be facing a monster wearing her corpse.
- At this point the only other people who knew this were Drake and Max, having been there from the start, and Acid, who had observed Rosa through her servo skulls but told nobody else. Her mech suit afforded her the privacy she needed to cry, without letting on to the others what she had learned.
As the Bloodletter smashed into the broken lift, Acid flew Audrey in to try and distract the demon and buy some time before the Grey Knight arrived.
- She managed to impale the skulls open jaw on the back of the demon's head, distracting it somewhat.
- She also announced to Drake that the Grey Knights were coming, further distracting the demon.
- She saw Drake huddled in the bottom of the lift, somehow protected from the demon by a circle of runes he had scrawled in his own blood.
Audrey was destroyed when a Grey Knight smashed his nemesis weapon into the head of the Bloodletter.
Michael, Ash, Sarge and Airi intercepted possessed Kovach and Rosa, and opened fire, although they were protected by a psychic distortion.
- Sarge was unable to bring himself to shoot at Rosa, and targeted Kovach instead.
The Inquisition team were protected from malefic energies in Ash's aura, so the demons ripped down the ceiling to drive them apart.
Sarge and Airi landed outside of Ash's protection.
Sarge took a blast of energy to the chest, breaking several ribs.
Michael used the Dark Eldar dark matter pistol he had disguised as a laspistol to obliterate the torso of Rosa, destroying the mortal remains that tied the demon to this plane.
- Before the demon's spirit could dissipate, the Grey Knight's appeared and trapped it into an arcane device. They then obliterated Kovach's body with storm bolter fire.

Immediate Aftermath

The Grey Knights informed Michael that the demons were all destroyed and Drake was alive and safe. They then teleported away.
Michael gave some rapid orders:
- The bodies were burned.
- Sarge, wounded but active, was sent with Stormtroopers to find Drake and keep him alive at all costs.
- Ash was sent to use her pariah aura to touch everyone to ensure no further taint remained.
- Sister Airi was sent to bodyguard Ash.
- Acid to coordinate from the Armoury as temporary HQ.
- Siveter to take over running ongoing operations outside the Obelisk.
- Sgt Bila to organise a sweep of the Obelisk, checking for demons and rescuing casualties.
- Until the Obelisk is cleared, the Trojan acting as temporary medical facility.
Lord Sejanus contacted the Obelisk asking what was going on, having heard explosions and gunfire. Michael was blunt and brief with him.

Intermediate Aftermath

Michael debriefed Max, who gave him the full story of everything that had happened. Michael told Max it wasn't his fault.
Michael met with Ash, told her she was doing a good job but he needed her to step up and take more initiative. He felt this was the main factor that had been holding her back from promotion so far and in the wake of Kovach's death they no longer had the luxury to wait for her to find this out herself.
- He also raised the issue of his use of Xenos technology but she was happy that it was within his remit to do such things.
- She told Michael to get some sleep.
Michael met with Siveter and promoted him to Interrogator. He told him this wasn't a promotion just out of necessity but something he felt Siv was already more than deserving of. Kovach liked to take things slowly but in the wake of his death this was no longer a luxury they could afford.
Padraic Larnock, having been dispatched by the Scholastia Psykana to assist with Rosa, arrived a few days too late. He undertook to give extra training in mental defence to all the active psykers. His initial forays were somewhat self important and bossy.
Michael met with Drake for a full debrief. Michael was somewhat upset to learn that they had lied to him about Rosa because they thought had he known the truth he would have forced his way into her cell and executed her.
Max visited Drake and talked about the events. Drake told Max it wasn't his fault.
Sarge visited Drake and asked about what happened to Rosa. Drake explained in fairly frank detail.
Amon brought food to Acid for her and Michael. Things were a little awkward between them.
Max asked Michael for permission to go into Kovach's office to say goodbye to him. Michael agreed on the condition that Max would attend psychological counselling. Michael told Max it wasn't his fault.
Sarge took Max to the ocean to remember Rosa. He told Max not to trust Michael or Ash, because they were so able to shoot Rosa's possessed body whereas Sarge found himself unable to.

Communications

+++TO: Inquisitors, Agents
+++FROM: Ashar Lear
+++SUBJECT: Talking

Dear all,

Upon request, Kaprun are being good enough to send us a mental health professional. Her name is Martya Barra, and she specialises in grief counselling. She is also a savant of a high enough clearance level to discuss the events of recent weeks.

She will be in office 3h. I have scheduled all active agents in for appointments next week. These can be moved to make way for urgent duties, but should not be avoided for too long.

Everyone needs help with what happened. Be gentle with yourselves.

Ash

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Ashar Lear;
+++FROM: Winifred Deitersman;
+++SUBJECT: Re: Talking

Hi Ash,

Sounds like a good idea. Happy to go along.

Michael says he doesn't have time at the moment. He had me reschedule his appointment because he was too busy. When I asked him when he would have time he said to push it back a month. I suspect we may be having this same conversation again in a month's time… :/

Just thought you should know. He is sleeping now, maybe not enough, but he's pretty unhappy. If you can avoid mentioning to him that I told you I'd be grateful, but if it comes to it I'll own that decision.

Thanks,
Acid

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Nadiya Zalenko
+++FROM: Siveter Lund
+++SUBJECT: Agent Referencing

Morning Nadiya,

I just wanted to see how you’re getting on with cross referencing and getting the information on the ‘Wellbank’ agents?

I think they’re overdue a routine contact and I’d rather not leave them in limbo for too long.

Thanks.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Nadiya Zalenko
+++FROM: Siveter Lund
+++SUBJECT: Re: Agent Referencing

Nadiya, ignore the last message, I’ve just seen your current one about work availability.

I’ll assign the ‘Wellbank’ work to someone else.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

A Message from Kovach

+ITEM: Handwritten letter from Kovach to Michael+
+TRANSCRIPT BEGINS_

Dear Michael,

If you're reading this, Rosa is back on active duty and operations are proceeding with relative normalcy.

This will not be easy to write, not least of which because one becomes so accustomed to using the keys of a cogitator.

The primary difficulty, however, lies in the act of confession. I'm afraid I've lied to you, and largely because right now I'm trying to keep the list of people who know the truth to a minimum, and since you're an Inquisitor the only way to do that is a believable falsehood. I could have tried the old "not your business" or "need to know" routine, but with the three of us having merged our resources so openly that would I think have only raised more questions. I'm telling myself that a temporary lie is better than a lie in perpetuity.

There is a second, harder reason for my decision.

There is one area where I do not trust your judgement, and that is with regards to the malefic. Your approach is that of a soldier, not an Inquisitor. I refer you to your handling of the Geller pox incident, in which you summarily executed the bridge crew of a ship who were not obviously tainted and might well have been a source of further intelligence on an emergent threat. Of course that was some time ago, and I suspect you would take more measured steps nowadays, but I have no desire to gamble with Agent Richter's life. I don't think she was ready to be sent to us, psychologically, but now the mistake has been made I mean to help her get through it, and have no wish to learn you hadn't changed your methods by being told you'd gone and taken matters into your own hands. I've lost agents to puritans in the past, and your previous actions have left me uncertain how you might have reacted.

My hope is that once the danger is past, I can give you this letter when things are calmer. It aggrieves me that Rosa was so foolish as to send messages to anyone, particularly someone as intelligent as Winnifred, since without that happening the lie might have been avoided, though of course the greater problem - the motivation for the lie - remains true.

Much as I take issue with your approach to the aforementioned area, I hardly need to emphasise the pride I have in your conduct in your primary areas of interest. You should expect, as time passes, to have philosophical differences with your fellow Inquisitors. It will usually leave a bitter taste in the mouth, and I'm sorry to have offered this taster of it.

Should you wish to remonstrate with me on the subject, my door is open.

Sincerely,
N

+++TO: Inquisitor Drake;
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael;
+++SUBJECT: Trust

Eidan,

I received a letter from Nikolai, written before. I've also had a bit of sleep. In the wake of this I'm reflecting on our recent conversation.

It seems that Nikolai, and perhaps yourself, have made some assumptions about my beliefs based on my past actions which, I hope, are inaccurate. I think it really all comes down to trust.

I don't know a lot about the arcane or the malefic. I know far more than most humans alive, but in the grand scheme of things that still results in very little. I also know that a little knowledge can be a dangerous thing.

When, in the past, I have been confronted with the malefic, I have sometimes made some hard choices. It's the old Guard maths. Sacrifice some so that more may live. I have, and gladly would again, killed a few that might have been saved rather than risk an entire world. But I have done that because I did not trust myself.

I don't have the knowledge or the skills to handle something like that on my own, and this failing of mine has regretfully cost others their lives. Then again perhaps it has saved billions. We'll never know.

But whilst I did not trust myself, I did trust you. You and Nikolai both. Whilst I may not know how to handle these problems, I have always believed that you and Kovach knew better than myself and deferred to your judgement, just as you have turned to mine in matters of Xenos.

It seems Nikolai feared that I was arrogant and puritanical enough to overrule your good judgement in these matters and murder someone you deemed to be worth saving. Quite the opposite is true. I have murdered people I wish I could have saved simply because your good judgement was unavailable to me at the time.

In the unlikely and bizarre case that Rosa had confessed herself to me instead of you, my first response would have been to refer the matter to you.

I trust you Eidan. Even now, even after the way things turned out with Rosa. I suspect that the monster Nikolai feared me to be would not have let you live after what happened on the lift. It had not occurred that this was not reciprocated, but of course I am still very new to the rosette and we never discussed the motivations behind my actions, an oversight on my behalf.

I will earn your trust. That is not an intention, it is a statement of fact. It must happen because Cetus needs us both. But I know it will take time, trust is not earned overnight.

Get well,
Gregory

P.S. If ever you don't understand why I have done something, or feel it could have been done differently, please let me know such that we may discuss it. We won't necessarily always agree, but I believe as long as we understand one another and where and why we differ, then we can work together.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Michael
+++FROM: Inquisitor Drake
+++SUBJECT: Trust

Gregory,

I think it's fair to say that the overwhelming weight of errors in judgement rests on my end of the scales. And Nikolai's, of course, painful though it is to speak ill of the dead.

I agree that trust between us is vital to the ongoing state of the Cetan sub, and that is why I came clean about the one area where clearly there has been undue paranoia.

In the interests of full disclosure, my current unfitness for duty extends beyond the physiological. Now that I am stable I've relocated to the Trojan and will... well, I'm not really certain what I'll do to get back in shape, but I'm sure circumstances will give me little choice but to get back out in the field even if at this point I'd rather hand in my rosette and become one of the servitors for which my homeworld is so renowned.

If time heals all, I'm sure this will reveal itself to be a phase.

Sincerely,
Eidan

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Fabricator Hephastus Acetae;
+++FROM: Acid;
+++SUBJECT: New specs

Tae-tae,

How's things with Meade? Is she still bossy when she's on her own or is it just acting up for Michael? How's the Halo Zone? How's Tibby? Things here are getting better, but we really need you back. As soon as miss shiny boots walks in this door I'm out of the Secretary desk and back into the workshop.

I've attached some specs for some new toys we need. It's an add on for the personal comm units. It'll need to be adjustable to fit with different people's combat gear so that the camera can always be mounted facing forwards. And we'll need to upgrade Salty to receive and buffer the data stream in real time when in the field. From now on I'm going to know where everyone is and what they can see, and be able to rewind to check on anything I missed.

This one's pretty hefty, but start thinking about how we can miniaturise it for covert ops. If we have to we could live with just the location and biosigns for that one, although audio would be great too, and maybe have it be remotely pingable so it doesn't have to be constantly streaming.

+++ATTACHED FILE: field_monitor_mk1.bluprint

See you soon,
Grub Screw

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Michael
+++FROM: Padraic Larnock
+++SUBJECT: An Apology

Inquisitor Michael,

It would appear that we may have started off our relationship on the wrong foot. As you are well aware being an experienced fighter and commander the consequences of starting on the wrong foot, throws the entire body off kilter, increasing ones struggle to right itself and if you are not careful the battle is already lost before you have begun.

I do not want this to be the case between us. I am not a proud man and can admit my wrong doings. We all make mistakes and it is paramount that we learn from them. I have had a chance to reflect on my behaviour during the last few days and it was during the service to the two fallen agents that I realised that my approach so far has been insensitive to the situation at hand.

My approach as a teacher has always been to have absolute control over my environment. My word is law and I must be obeyed. I do not do this because I am mean spirited and enjoy a power trip. I do this because I know what it is that my students have to face. I have seen enough lost to the dark. I never want my students to be underprepared. No one chooses this life. They can however choose to work hard at protecting themselves and honing their skills to serve the Emperor.

As I see it as an Inquisitor it is no different. You are trying to regain your control of your environment and protect those who you command. Their safety and well being is paramount. I have been commandeering agents for my studies when you have needed them most. I suspect that agents have been having to choose between us both. This is not acceptable and will cause further problems.

Whilst Rosa was never one of my students. I did have interactions with her. She seemed to me to be a promising, studious, young girl though she appeared to be ruled by her emotions. My regret is that I was not her teacher as we may have had a very different outcome. What done is done and we must learn from this.

Kovach and Drake wrote to me with the upmost urgency and having spoken to the psyker agents I have important work to do.

This does not mean that we can’t work together and come to some sort of compromise.

I would be welcome a discussion around what this compromise would look like.

Yours eager to step onto the right foot,

Padraic Larnock

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Amon Carlin
+++FROM: Padraic Larnock
+++SUBJECT: Choices

Amon,

I wish to discuss your sentiments about your abilities.

You are quite right. Life was simpler before. No one chooses to become a psyker. Our abilities are a heavy burden and we pay a heavy toll. They change the shape of our future, taking control of what might have been and thrusting it into a completely different direction. They change the attitudes of other towards us and expose us to horrors that very few understand.

We all, myself included, have wished for the life that once was. It is only fools that want this life and they do not last long. Amon, it is no longer in our control. We can not choose a different path. The abilities are there. It can not be undone. It has lit a flame to which many horrors will be attracted too.

What we can choose is what we do from this moment onwards. With the right training you can fight the darkness that might wish you harm.

Above all, these abilities can be used for good. You are a fighter. You can fight to save innocent lives. You can use your abilities to help your fellow agents. Even save your fellow agents. They risk their lives to keep the peace and fight the good fight. They go into battle without this power. Imagine what they could achieve with you by their side.

I understand your reservations but the past is the past. I am here to help you move forward.

Yours,

Padraic Larnock

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Nadiya Zalenko
+++FROM: Padraic Larnock
+++SUBJECT: An apology

Nadiya,

It is important for one to own and learn from their mistakes. I, therefore, owe you an apology.

I put you in a position where you had to choose between my training and your duty. This is not acceptable and I must apologise.

Our studies are vital for your safety and well being which is why I started with such a hard line. I want to equip you with the best possible tools so that you can face the many challenges out there. We will learn from the mistakes of your colleague Rosa and will fight for it never to happen again.

I will be assessing you but this is only to see what work is required. This is not the Scholastica. Failure in tasks will be expected. We are not perfect. We are not the Emperor after all. The only punishment will be further work.

We will continue your studies but you must also fulfil your duties. We will strike a balance. Whilst I will be a hard task master, do not be afraid to talk to me if you have more pressing matters or concerns.

I will understand. I am here to help.

Yours,

Padraic Larnock

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Drake;
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael;
+++SUBJECT: Kovach's Agents

Dear Eidan,

I hope you are continuing to recover. A little light reading for you if you feel up to it. For now until you return to active service I will take charge of Kovach's Agents, however we should eventually divide them between us.

Personally I would preffer to follow the Agents' own desires, perhaps in discussion with ourselves to find a mutually acceptable outcome. I don't want anyone working for me who does not wish to. The Inquisition is not a place for the weakly motivated.

Nevertheless I have some thoughts on the most prominent Agents and would value your opinion.

Interrogator Lear
To me this seems clear cut. As much as I would value her talents, both as a Pariah and as an Agent in general, I feel she would be of greatest benefit serving the cause of either the Hereticus or potentially the Malleus.

Certainly there are many psychic foes to face in the service of Xenos, and a pariah would be incredibly useful to me, but there is simply so much more application within Hereticus.

On top of that, I have a long standing personal relationship with Ashar, and whilst it is nothing untoward or shameful, I feel it would be innapropriate for me to judge if and when she would be worthy of the rosette.

Interrogator Lund
Again, I would be very pleased to have such an Agent in my staff, Siveter is a dedicated and patient investigator and organiser. In his case I beleive he would be equally valid working for any of the Ordos, however I beleive he intends eventually to declare for the Malleus and therefore I beleive he would benefit from your mentorship moreso than my own.

Nevertheless, I took it upon myself to promote him to Interrogator and therefore the responsibility lies with me if you do not wish to take it up.

Agent Drent
If I could only take one of the Agents for myself it would be Max. He shows great promise, and I beleive he would serve me well as a moral compass. Not that one always follows the arrow of a compass, but knowing where it points is invaluable when trying not to lose your way. Winnie and Geraldine serve such a capacity in their way but both are strongly differential to me. I beleive Max would be more... forthright.

Additionally we have been working on a project together that I would like to continue. Nevertheless I suppose it would not be impossible to continue the project even if he chose to serve you, were you willing.

My concern, should he preffer Hereticus, would be his motivation. I can't help but fear that he might want revenge for Rosa’s death against the entity who corrupted her. He will not find it, and throwing himself into a rage against the Malefic in general can only lead to his demise.

Agent Marle
Dacius is a talented soldier and an excelent squad leader. He has experience fighting a great number of Xenos races which is naturally of great use to me. Due to our shared Guard heretige I beleive we have an excelent working relationship.

That said, he has a history of discipline problems so I wouldn't be entirely devastated to lose him.

Agent Carlin
I understand Amon has been having some psychological problems. I think unless/until that is cleared by someone qualified I'm unwilling to take him on. Perhaps you would know better how to deal with him?

Preatus Jaxx
Jaxx is very much a free agent and will, I suspect, continue to subcontract for us as and when he pleases.

Padraic Larnoc
I understand Padraic is here for the long haul. I'd certainly value a battle psyker of his calibre, particularly one trained in psyhic defence, but again unfortunately I can see that your cause may be more deserving of such talents.

Rest well,
Gregory

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Padraic Larnock
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael
+++SUBJECT: Re: An Apology

Mr Larnock,

The first impression you have presented was indeed not the best, however it speaks well of you that you have recognised this and taken a proactive step to rectify it. I will not hold it against you.

Our agents’ duty to the Inquisition is their highest, and only, priority. Serving the Inquisition is as close as one can come to serving the Emperor himself. However what you have come here to do is important work that is itself in service to the Inquisition. Where possible I will support your training, but sometimes operational needs will demand the training be set aside and you must accept that.

Here in the Obelisk we try not to stick to rigidly to hierarchy, and generally prefer to allow agents as much autonomy as possible in deciding how best they can serve the Imperium. I expect you to work with the agents to come to a mutually acceptable arrangement on a person by person basis.

To better understand the agents’ position, I would recommend you volunteer to become an active field agent yourself. I won’t push, the Inquisition is a place for self motivated individuals willing to do their part for humanity. If ever we feel the need for unwilling soldiers there are plenty of penal legions to call upon. Nevertheless I feel you will be better places to train the psykers of the Inquisition if you understand and share their experiences and, hopefully, earn their respect.

If you are interested, please contact Siveter Lund or Ashar Lear to understand what you would be signing up for and, should you wish to continue, make the official arrangements.

Yours faithfully,
Inquisitor Gregory Michael
Ordo Xenos

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Padraic Larnock
+++FROM: Nadiya Zelenko
+++SUBJECT: re: An apology

Master Larnock,

That is most gracious of you, and it is reassuring to hear of your approach to any perceived failures. I'm certain to benefit from further instruction; one can never be over-trained! I will be sure to tell you if and why my duties preclude attending any instruction I am due to attend.

Sincerely,
Agent Zelenko

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Michael
+++FROM: Inquisitor Drake
+++SUBJECT: re: Kovach’s Agents

Dear Gregory,

Thank you.

Your logic is sound, both in general and in the particulars. I concur that we should establish their preferences and discuss these with them, but also agree with your logic as to our assumptions going in. Indeed I have only the following to add:

Agent Carlin
I think we should consider Amon to be Obelisk staff rather than ‘belonging’ to either of us. Support staff from Kaprun are en route, and perhaps they might yet help him become a field agent again. If and when he does, I think he would be better suited to xenos work, since clearly daemonic and ritualistic practises disturb him even more than most of us. Fundamentally, though, he has to want to be a field agent to be effective. If that isn’t the case, then I’m happy for him to be the Obelisk’s chef, given that he’ll be a hell of a nasty surprise should anyone ever attempt to attack the Obelisk conventionally.

Padraic Larnoc
As this man is technically Scholastika Psykana, he belongs to neither of us, and should be able to move freely between parties given that we will both have uses for his talents at times.

Sincerely,
Eidan

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Drake
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael
+++SUBJECT: Re: Kovach’s Agents

Dear Gregory,

You raise an excellent point about Amon. Until now all of the people we think of as “Obelisk staff” have been reporting to Inquisitor Kovach, but we could certainly set up an autonomous “Obelisk command” unit whose duties are to maintain and defend the Obelisk, guard prisoners, secure the library and support the operations of any Inquisitors within Cetus, without reporting to a specific Inquisitor. We both have a tendency to be away for extended periods on operations, so it really does need someone permanently assigned to oversee it. Gaius has basically been running this for Kovach in all but name anyway.

As you suggest, it’s likely to be the sort of operation that Amon would prefer over active service with an Inquisitor. It seems a shame to waste such a potent combat asset, but he doesn't seem to be happy in the field so I won’t press him into active Inquisitorial service, but it’s not like we can ship him out at this point either.

Likewise I could see Sergeant Marle possibly wanting to take on the security and training of the Obelisk. I know he has a good relationship with many of the Stormtroopers, and has taken an active hand in training up the newer Agents. He also allegedly knows several ways to break out of the cells, so having him in charge of stopping others from doing likewise could be beneficial.

I still think we should be guided by the Agents’ own wishes, but it’s an option we should probably put on the table. We’ll have to decide who to put in charge of course. Gaius would seem like the obvious choice but he’s taken Kovach’s death very hard indeed, they’d been together for longer than I’ve been alive, so we may have to consider finding someone else.

Thoughts?

Yours,
Gregory

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Inquisitor Michael
+++FROM: Inquisitor Drake
+++SUBJECT: Re: Kovach's Agents

Gregory,

Certainly Gaius would, in a vacuum, be the choice. But as you say, he's in a bad way. It should also be noted that he's even older than Kovach was, and we wouldn't want to end up with the same situation a year or two from now.

Perhaps we should ask him, when possible, if there is anyone he would recommend. Perhaps an asset that wants to come in from the field.

Alternatively we could look to hire an understudy, or even a team of analysts, and appoint a successor when a front runner emerges.

Sincerely,
Eidan

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++ TO: Inquisitor Michael
+++FROM: Padraic Larnock
+++SUBJECT: An Apology

Inquisitor Michael,

I am grateful and humbled by your response.

We live in turbulent and distressing times. The impact of such an event has left a deep wound. Hard work, faith, diligence, strong command, wisdom and trust in each other will allow this wound to heal with time. No doubt we will be scarred by it but, Emperor willing, it will make us stronger.

I will heed your words and work with the agents on an individual basis. I will be mindful of their duties and will understand that this will come first.

I had hoped that my reputation alone would alleviate any concerns. However, it is wise in a time such as this for one’s reputation to not be enough. Action often speak louder than words. I have had to prove myself before and do not shy away from hard work. My actions will speak for themselves.

I agree, wholeheartedly, that I will be better suited if I understand and share the experiences of my fellow psykers. It was one of the first points I addressed with Inquisitor Kovach when he first approached me. Kovach, Emperor rest his soul, and I had agreed that as I am master and scholar of the Scholastika Psykana that I would be free to move between two parties.

If there is a formal process I am happy to do this especially if it will put my fellow psykers and colleagues at ease. I will make the formal arrangements. It will be slightly for show as my joining would be on the understanding that if required I will be free to attend to my duties at the Scholastica. This is what I had agreed with Inquisitor Kovach.

I do not foresee this being an issue. My work here is of the upmost important and I intend to give it my full focus.

I do hope that Inquisitor Drake is recovering and look forward to meeting him when he is well.

For now the weight of the healing falls on your shoulders. It is a heavy burden. I find in times like this that allowing time [as impossible a task as that will be] for meditation. It helps settle the mind and heart. Allowing a clearer head for the many challenges ahead. If you are in need of instruction in this I am happy to help.

Yours faithfully,

Padraic Larnock

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Padraic Larnock
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael
+++SUBJECT: Re: An Apology

Mr Larnock,

You’ll forgive me if I am unaware of your reputation. I’m sure your reputation within your field is prestigious however my remit as an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos is wide ranging and intense, and the details of the inner workings of specific Imperial organisations such as the Scholastia Psykana sadly only comes to my attention when something has gone wrong.

I accept you prior arrangement with Kovach regarding your commitments to the Scholastia and am willing to accept it, however I will add that if you accept a mission, you will not leave for any reason until it is completed, unless you have the agreement of the mission leader. If we cannot depend upon you then we cannot use you.

Your offer for instruction is kind but unnecessary. Your time can be more usefully spent working with your fellow psykers.

Yours faithfully,
Inquisitor Gregory Michael
Ordo Xenos

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Nadiya Zelenko
+++FROM: Padraic Larnock
+++SUBJECT: re: An apology

Nadiya,

Excellent. I have been informed of the delicacy around hierarchy within the Inquisition. So please, no more Master, you may address me by my first name.

As for your studies there is no time like the present. If your duties allow I would like you to join me for a run. I am liberty this afternoon. Let me know of a time that would work for you. As I am new to the building and there are areas currently being rebuilt it might be prudent if you were to suggest a meeting place and running ground.

Yours faithfully,

Padraic Larnock
Master of the Scholastica Psykana

+++MESSAGE ENDS

Padraic and Nadiya

I assume that Nadiya will join Padraic for a run and suggest an appropriate meeting place. It will be good to know whether she drops everything or if she tests his understanding around Inquisition duties.

Padraic will be there waiting for her. He would have been there very early to make sure of this. He is no longer wearing his robes. He is dressed in all black running clothes. His legs are completely covered but his forearms are exposed. The exposed skin on his right side has several long scars. It would appear that one of the scars joins with the scar across his face and down his neck.

He greets Nadiya with an attempt at a smile. As this is their first run together he will allow Nadiya to set the pace. He will occasionally signal for them to slow down so that they are at a pace where they can talk.

[As an aside Padraic is of the mindset that movement will help conversation flow. His hope is that Nadiya will not have as much time to monitor her answers as she will be focused on a physical activity as well as conversation.]

He starts with small talk to ease her in. Mainly about how the building works, how often she has been sent on missions and how long she has been at the Inquisition.

There are three questions which he has planned to ask and is keen to know her answer too. Depending on how she answers will depend on whether he has specific questions relating to the three main ones.

1. He would like to know the story of the first time her abilities manifested.
2. He would like to know since joining the Inquisition what has been the biggest challenge for her.
3. He would like to know since her abilities have manifested if she has any positive memory/memories of using her powers and how she felt in that moment.

As they turn a corner in the square they’ve been running around, Nadiya concedes that she has no way of knowing when her gift first manifested. “I just became accustomed to getting what I asked for,” she says, thinking back over the years of her parents buying whatever she wanted, of waiters serving her table first, of friends agreeing to come out when she asked, of whichever boy she pursued saying yes even if he’d hitherto claimed not to be interested.

“You have to understand, I didn’t know I was doing it,” she says defensively. “Since my time at the Scholam I only do it when I mean to. I understand one shouldn’t use such gifts frivolously,” she adds, thinking of the night in the club with that gormless-looking boy she told to guard the table.

“As to the biggest challenge… you haven’t been out in the field for a while, have you?” she asks, realising for the first time that she knows about things this man has never even heard of. “Once you’ve been shot at by a 6 metre tall daemon engine with plasma cannons for arms you’ll understand why that’s a silly question.”

She forces a laugh as she realises who she just patronised, and glances at her chronometer. “Oh look, walking’s up, back to the running!” she says with another nervous laugh. “I’ve plenty of positive memories of using my powers,” she says over her shoulder as Padraic starts to catch up. “Prevented a firefight the last time we went to Erydimae. Can’t tell you how happy that made me!”

Padraic remains silent as he takes in her answers until the next pause in running. A stony look on his face as he concentrates on his thoughts.

‘Nadiya, you are right, it was a stupid question to ask, I have perhaps spent too much time teaching and not enough time in the field.

That is about to change as I will be accompanying you on your missions. I marvel that you were able to face down such a weapon. I would like to hear more about you achieved this.’

He will listen attentively to what Nadiya says (feel free to fill in the gaps). On their last lap or so he says.

‘Nadyia, I fear that I make you feel uncomfortable, I realise that the fault is mine. On our first meeting I asserted myself as a master of the Scholastica. I am, in your eyes, in a position of power to evaluate and potentially change the course of your position in the Inquisition. This is true but not as you feared. I am here to help. I want to enable you to be stronger and more resilient. I want to teach you to harness the skills that you already have and to improve on them. You have an incredible talent. You are also intelligent, brave, charming and I hear a crack shot! I want to build on all of this. The only change I want is for the good.

Yet, as I say this, I realise the balance is still in my favour. We are colleagues and yet you know very little of me. Is there anything you would like to ask?’

At Padraic's question, Nadiya remembers the hissing of pseudo-mechanical pistons, and the way she could feel the fiend's footfalls reverberate through the ground. She remembers a bright blue ball of plasma rupturing as it strikes the corner of a building in the street below her; a gobbet splashes onward, sprays across guardsman Andras' lower half, and ashes his legs before he even starts to scream. The heat backwash alone burns the skin of his face and hands. The rest of his squad finish running for cover and Nadiya, watching it all from the roof above the daemon engine, jumps back out of sight. There's a single lasgun shot; Andras stops screaming.

"You hide," Nadiya tells Padraic, "and wait for the tanks to kill it."

Later, when Padraic asks if she has a question, she thinks for a minute, trying to figure out if she even wants to know the answer.

On reflection, she needs to know.

"Did you ever send someone away to the throne? When they didn't do well enough, I mean?"

Padraic takes a moment. His face a closed book as he slows down. He stops and turns to face Nadiya head on. He looks her directly in the eye as he speaks.

‘Ah. So, we have come to the crux of your fear of me. I must thank you for your question. It was brave of you to ask and I admire you for it.

It is within my power and my duty as a master of the Scholastica to send any of my students that I believe to have failed away to serve the Emperor. This still applies during my time here at the Inquisition.

Opinions on what the rules and reasonings around this vary from master to master. Some masters take it upon themselves to use this as a threat to dominate and manipulate their students. A tactic which I abhor.

I assure you. I am not one of those masters. If I am to be feared it is because I expect the very best from my students and will punish those that do not follow my instruction. The punishment is further work be that physical, academic, discipline, control or a combination of all practises.

Whatever their level I see the potential in all of my students. When a student enters my class room they look for guidance and put a certain level of faith and trust in me. This should not be squandered. If a student does not do well, we work on it. I do not and will not give up on my students.

However, that does not directly answer your question. Have I ever sent somebody away to the serve the Emperor? The answer is no.’

He pauses. Padraic, unknowingly moves to touch the scars on his right arm, he starts to trace the longest and deepest of his scars. He looks troubled.

‘In truth, I have been close with one student. He was an extremely troubled boy with an extraordinary gift. He could have done great things but the damage within was too great to heal. Instead, he chose a different and more destructive path. It is the closest I have been to sending a student away but I did not. I, uhm...

It is not easy for me to speak of him and what happened.’

He notices that he has been touching his scars and stops. He shakes his head as if the movement alone will dispel his troubled thoughts.

‘I have no intention of sending you away. I will not use that as a threat to linger over you. The threat of further runs with me for company should be enough incentive for you to work harder.’

He smiles.

+++TO: Nadiya Zalenko; Padraic Larnock
+++FROM: Siveter Lund
+++SUBJECT: Re: Wellbank Network

Nadiya, I’ve not been able to get the referencing and contact work re-allocated for Kovach’s Wellbank network. Please could you now pick this up as a matter of priority.

Padraic. We have agents in the field who are overdue routine contact or are waiting for further guidance and debriefing. I now need Nadiya to chase these people up. Whilst I apppreciate that the training needs of the psykers are your priority, the Obelisk’s priority is currently to wrap up or stabilise a number of Kovach’s affairs and given that this involves live assets, this needs to get actioned and I expect to see progress on this soon.

Feel free to find me if you have any questions. Also, if you need a field agent to carry out contact work, let me know and I’ll get Hannat to do it.

+++MESSAGE ENDS

Nadiya stares at his scar with renewed interest, then looks away when she realises she's doing it. "That's reassuring, even if your relentless barrage of compliments and positivity is making me look the gift horse in the mouth. I'm sorry, I'm just not used to that sort of thing. Perhaps, um, I can do you a favour in response."

She pauses, years of innate fear warring against more recently acquired authority. "As a point of order, I'm not actually sure that you do have the authority to send active agents away. Not without the consent of a more senior figure in the Inquisition. Until you are assigned to an Inquisitor, you technically answer to any of the agents in the building, including me. Not that I'd enforce that, of course! But Inquisitor Michael probably would." She gives him a contrite smile, which fades when her wrist unit pings an alarm at her. "Sorry, one moment," she says, moving to the nearest wall terminal and plugging in the cable from her wrist unit.

It's a message from Siveter. "Shit," she says. "Duty calls! Thanks for the run Padraic, I needed the exercise." She runs off in the direction of the gymnasium and its showers.

Padriac watches as Nadiya runs off. Leaving him standing there on his own.

'Well, that could have gone better' he says to himself and then sighs.

His hand once again returning to his scar. Lost in his own thoughts the stern facade slips for a moment replaced with a concerned look. He eyes are fixed on the space where Nadiya has just left.

He moves as if to go after her but then thinks better of it.

Instead he starts running round the square. This time setting off at a faster and more punishing pace. He completes six more laps of the square until he is out of breath and sweating. He then leaves in the opposite direction to Nadiya.

Padraic and Amon

Meanwhile on a different day Padraic makes his way to the kitchen. He finds Amon making bread.

‘Amon, hard at work I see, I am currently at liberty and was wondering if I could help. What is it you are making there? Bread. Interesting. I have never made bread before. Can I help?’

He rolls up his sleeves, grabs some dough and before Amon can answer starts copying the kneading movements he has just watched Amon do.

He would wait for awhile and then ask

‘I was intrigued about what you said in our meeting. I know little of the Gladiator world, other than it is a difficult life. I would be grateful to hear about your experiences, how did you get into such a world? What was your weapon of choice? What was your favourite victory? Does winning bring a certain level of fame? When into your career did your abilities surface?’

Amon opens his mouth to say "no," but as Padraic grabs the dough, he figures that this guy isn't going to take no for an answer. He lets the older man have a go, correcting him gently in low tones when he judges that Padraig isn't kneading hard enough.

It takes a long time before Amon gets past the monosyllabic stage. "It was fine" and "I was just good at it" slowly blossom into longer answers as the hours progress and the loaves go into the oven to be replaced by more dough to knead.

At this point, Padraic may notice that the flour-stained apron Amon is wearing has a much smaller twin, hanging on a hook in the corner.

"I was pretty famous. It's a big deal, you know? People recognised me on the street. There were parties and that. I don't miss being famous, really. I miss…" he shakes his head and kneads afresh.

"Didn't know I was a psyker until I was twenty-three. Then this woman," he starts pounding the bread into the counter with huge hands, "came up to me," -thump- "and said I had gifts," -thump- "that I'd been fuckin' cheating this whole time," -thump- "and I didn't even know it."

He looks murderously down at the dough.

"She said they could get me out. I told my trainer, he told Kovach…" Amon's hands are still for a moment before he starts gathering up the dough. "He said I'd rumbled a smuggling ring. And sent me to the Scholastica. Go me."

The dough is put in the proving drawer, and Amon starts assembling the ingredients for chocolate chip cookies. "And then I get here, and it's fuckin' - women strung up and gutted in cathedrals, and - and your friends turning evil, and…" he cracks each egg into the bowl as if it has personally wounded him. "I hate it. And I like the people and I have a friend but now even she hates me, and…"

He realises what he's said, and clears his throat. "Anyway. I've got good control. But I don't wanna learn any more. This whole thing ruined my life."

Padraic listens attentively. He follows Amon’s instruction without question. He knows and appreciates a master in action.

When Amon finishes speaking Padraic takes a few moments to consider what has been said.

‘Amon, it is true that your abilities would give you an advantage on the battle field, so would the fact that you are naturally tall, you have a muscular build, you are strong, you are a quick learner, you have good balance, good eye to eye coordination, have all your limbs, excellent hearing and eye sight. All of these things you can not help. They are what you were born with. You would not have fought one-handed or on your knees to even the odds. No. That is because, the truth is, there are never even playing fields in fights.

Your natural abilities would have helped you on the battle field but they are not what made you a great fighter. To become a great fighter takes patience, control, endurance and a hell of a lot of training. Natural abilities only get you so far. You will have had to master different weapons, learn combat tactics and built strong anticipation and understanding of the fighting techniques of others. Anyone could have entered the gladiator arena and by luck survived. It takes a true warrior to go back, time after time, and live to tell the tale. Here you are telling the tale.

I also might add that you are going on the word of the lady, who by your own admission, was untrust worthy and was in fact trying to smuggle you or worse. The truth is that you are not quite sure when your abilities manifested. For all you know it may have been the last game you fought which bought you to her attention. Why did she not approach you at your first match? Why leave it to that moment? Answer we won’t get but interesting enough to think on.

However like I said, none of this, in my opinion detracts from the fact you are an excellent fighter. You abilities if present would have helped but it was you and your talent as a fighter that would have won the fight.’

He pauses whilst he looks earnestly at you before saying.

‘It would appear that you have lost a great deal and paid a heavy price for which I am sorry. I understand. No one but a fellow psyker can truly understand what we must sacrifice for our abilities.

Yet here we are. Other than what you have told me I know not of what you have witness at the Inquisition. From what I have witnessed from the damage left in Rosa’s wake it enough to make you never want to leave the safety of a place such as this.

Outside these walls, there is cruelty, suffering and darkness. There is also innocence, beauty and hope. We need those who can fight for all that is good.

I will not force the matter. You have a right to choose your path. Enough has been taken away.

I will like to continue to assess your control. If I am satisfied that it is good enough I will leave you be. If you would like to learn more I will be glad to assist.’

He shakes the dough from his hands and makes to leave. He walks past the small apron and pauses.

‘A good friend does not stay angry for long and should let you make amends. Life is short. Don’t waste it. If they are a friend worth having they will hear you out and you should find a way past it. Be honest but also mindful of how they might feel. Maybe take some of this bread as a peace offering. Good day to you.’

He leaves.

Amon and Acid

Amon has been delivering nearly packed lunches to each office, while emergency administration is still ongoing. Ash, her head bent over piles of paper she's untangling for Civiter, smiles her thanks at him as he leaves hers on her desk.

Nobody has yet noticed that the lunches being dropped off at Michael's office are considerably nicer than those going elsewhere - no other team, for instance, gets chocolate chip cookies in their basket. That Acid spends her days in this office must surely be a coincidence.

Today, as he pauses in the doorway with the last remaining basket of food, Amon realises he's made an error. Acid is the only person in the room. He takes a step in, clearing his throat awkwardly, and gives her a hesitant smile while holding out the food like a peace offering. "Sorry. Won't be a mo."

Acid looked up from her desk, "Oh, Amon, hey, thanks." She stood up, "Michael's not here right now. You don't… Do you wanna…?" she sighed. "You look like a kicked puppy Amon. Can we just…? Uhf, just… shut the door a sec." She moved a few stacks of datapads and papers off Michael's couch, and sat down leaving room for him to join her if he chose.

"Look, I know things have been weird between us since the club and I don't like it and I want to set things straight. I was upset and embarrassed that you treated me like a delicate thing to be protected and not a fellow Agent to fight alongside, and," she held her hand up to prevent his protestations interrupting, "I was also flattered that you were showing that you cared."

“So I had this idea, probably a stupid one really. I challenged you to a fight, and obviously you would win overall but I figured I’d get a few good moves in, take a few hits and prove that even if I’m not the best fighter I’m not completely useless and I can take care of myself.” Her cheeks reddened slightly as she continued. “And I guess I had this stupi fantasy that we’d have been fighting, and you’d have been impressed with me and we’d end up on the floor together and maybe we’d… you know… we’d kiss. Or something.” She wasn’t meeting his eyes at this point, but instead was using a small screwdriver to tighten up the screws in her bionic arm, none of which needed tightening, her fringe hanging down to cover her face.

“Then everything went to shit. The… thing happened. And I was running central control and I had the skulls out and the security feeds and… I saw so much Amon.” she looked up and Amon could see tears welling in her eyes. “I saw everything. Everything that anyone else saw, and some more besides. And I did my job and I kept my shit together because everyone was depending on me.” She paused for a moment. “But I couldn’t sleep that night.” She rose from the coach and started pacing the room. “That night I found myself outside your room. I just wanted to crawl into your bed and talk about everything and be held. But… I can’t. I can’t share that with you. It wouldn’t be fair to put that burden on you.”

She was standing at the far end of the room now, arms crossed defensively as she turned to face him. “So I don’t… It’s not that I don’t like you, and I’m not still mad about the club thing, I just… There’s too much in here.” she said tapping her head, “I’m not safe for you.”

Amon sat perfectly still as Acid paced, watching her with wide, dark eyes. After she forestalled his first attempt at interruption he didn't try to speak again - he just sat and let her talk, a frown of concentration on his face as he listened to each word.

Eventually he took a breath. "I'm glad you're not mad at me for the club thing," he said. "I thought - I thought they'd come and get you while we were distracted. I didn't like the way he spoke to you." His expression darkened for a moment. "I didn't want him to get you. But I guess I wasn't thinking about what you wanted. I'm sorry."

The couch suddenly felt too small. He was too big, too clumsy - and yet, with Acid standing like that, arms crossed with that fierce expression, he felt tiny.

"I wish you'd knocked." Amon swallowed. "I wish - I wish you'd said. You're clever, I know there's loads in your head. And after Rosa I get it, there's things you just shouldn't tell me because I'm a psyker. But I…" he rubbed a hand over his face. "Acid. Winnie. Whatever you want me to call you. I…"

He bit his lip. "I like the inside of your head. Whatever's in there. And you seem to like the inside of mine," a quick smile, "even if there's not much in there. So."

Amon reached towards her and held out his right hand, palm-up. "If you want. But only if you want. If you don't, we can be friends still and I'll hug you anyway. You can lean on me, no matter what. Whatever you want."

Acid stood frozen, looking at Amon's hand. She hesitated, torn between reaching out and retreating. "It's not just clever things in my head now Amon. There's things in there I don't want, and I don't think you'd want them either." She looked in his eyes as she spoke on, as if edging out onto a frozen lake, unsure how thick the ice was and listening for the tell-tale sign of cracking, "I saw Rosa… I saw what… became of her…" She watched Amon's face, looking for a reaction, to see how he would respond as she continued to slowly uncover a fraction of the horrors she had witnessed that day.

Amon's mouth twisted in sympathy. "That's…" he swallowed. "I'm sorry you saw that. It…" he shook his head. The descriptions of possession he'd heard at the Scholastica had been enough to give him an idea of what she'd seen.

She looked...scared. As if he would run away at any moment. Slowly, afraid of startling her - and afraid of looking foolish - Amon opened his arms. "Come here?" He asked tentatively. "You don't have to hide it from me. I can hear it. I know I'm not so good at seeing it, but hearing is...I can do that."

Michael approached his office and froze, the reactions kicking in before he consciously knew why. His office door was closed, but when he had left it had been open and Acid had been inside working. She should be there still. Backing into an adjacent unused office, he pulled out his datapad and flicked to the security camera feed from within his office.

Acid was sitting on the coach with Amon, snuggling up close into his bulk. He knew her face well enough that even through the pict-feed he could tell she had been crying, but she was smiling now and chatting with Amon as they ate a packed lunch together. "What's with this bread Amon, you've been getting sloppy without me! Did you even knead this?!" Michael flicked off the feed as Amon began to bluster an explanation. He opened a large checklist and deleted an entry double underlined in red, then, checking his chronometer, decided to head to the dojo instead.

+++TO: Ashar Lear;
+++FROM: Gregory Michael;
+++SUBJECT: You were right

Ash,

I don't know how you knew, but you were right on the nose about Amon and Winnie. As my office appears to be otherwise occupied (not like that!) I'm heading down to the dojo. You would be very welcome should you wish to join me.

Yours,
Gregory

+++MESSAGE ENDS

Padraic and Max

Padraic stood outside the nondescript door and paused. He steeled himself and entered.

As he had expected the room had been left undisturbed. He left the door slightly ajar. It did not surprise him that no one had been in to pay their final respects. The speech by her commanding officer had been distant and cold. The mayhem and destruction that she had caused would have turned the kindest of hearts against her. Yet, he knew what she would have had to face. The promising and powerful young girl he had known had lost the battle against the dark and died too young. What a waste of potential. What a heavy price she had paid.

The room itself was tidy and sparse. A chair in the corner with a cloak draped across it. A built in wardrobe, a desk, a bed and a bedside table. Leaning against the wall by the door was one of the most beautiful power staffs he had ever seen.

The bed was made. At the foot of the bed was a black trunk with silver lettering - R. Richter. He opened the silver clasp and found the trunk to be empty. He carefully moved the trunk and placed it on the bed.

He opened the wardrobe and started very carefully to fold and place her clothes into the trunk. Once the wardrobe was empty he went to explore the rest of the room.

There was a faint smell of cinnamon and a spice that made him think of candlemas. The source of the smell was a small perfume bottle by her bedside table. Next to the perfume bottle appeared to be black leather note books and a whole host of drawing pencils. There were more on her desk.

He flipped open the pages. The three book had drawings of agents he had seen around the building. Rosa had quite the talent for capturing the characteristics of her fellow colleagues. The pictures ranged from black and white sketches to coloured one’s that she had taken time and care over. He recognised Amon, Nadiya, Michael and what he thought to be Drake amongst the ones she had taken time over. There were also quite a few pictures of a field surrounded by trees and a small farm house.

The final note book focused on someone he had not met. He had red hair and a lopsided grin. There were pictures of this man piloting space ships, carrying a giant wrench, fighting bad guys and eating what appeared to be a literal rat between two buns. The last picture was one of Rosa and the guy. They were standing side by side, the guys arm wrapped around Rosa, her head resting on his shoulders as they looked out to sea.

Padraic closed the books and placed them in the trunk. He moved the pencils along with the other drawing and painting equipment from her desk and placed them in the trunk.

He opened the draw of the bed side table. There were only four items in the draw. A rather blackened rubber duck, a receipt for two rat burgers, a black case containing a strange object he was not familiar with and a shell. He moved each item and considered them carefully. It was not unusual for a student of the Scholastica to have so few belongings. He had often encouraged his students to travel light and only take what was essential. These four items though they were strange to him must have held a special place in her heart in order for her to have kept them.

He sat on her bed, holding the rubber duck in his hands, silently paying his final respects to this talented and intriguing young girl. A few tears escaping as he mourned not only for this tragic girl who he was too late to save but for others he had lost.

Max slowly rounded the corner to his corridor. The crutches were ungainly and the heavy tome stuffed beneath his arm only served to exacerbate. His ankle ached, his head slightly thick from the amsac.

He was at the door of his quarters, clumsily fumbling for the access, when he noticed it.

Seven rooms down.

His stomach lurched as he froze in place, staring at the barely open door. The sliver of visible wall felt grossly intimate. Ros… The door was always shut. She always shut it. She left it shut.

He clattered down the hallway, picking up speed as he went, barely keeping hold of the book.

“You can’t be here, he said, slurring slightly as he shouldered open the door. “Inquisitor Drake sai…”.

Max took in the room. Bare and lifeless and cold and empty. The room had always been sparse, but the now entirely vacant shelves and desk screamed in their wrongness. The once familiar space felt alienly stark.

His mind rushed with the images of a large open space, walls and corridors ripped away, struts bared as he stared at a floating figure...

His head snapped to the figure on the bed, gripping the crutch for support as he swayed. The disturbed dust swirled around the stranger as he looked up from the filthy rubber duck he held in his hands.

My dearest Duckie, Where to begin?

Rocking, he took in the robes of the man. He recognised them. There were some in the trunk. Nadiya had a set. Psykana. That’s what happens when the Psykana sees fit to mind wipe a girl and send her into the world

Shifting his gaze to the trunk, Max saw the sketch books. The light film of dust marred by scarred man’s fingerprints. Covered in them. Max felt the heat rising in his cheeks.

The Psykana let her down

On two battered slips he could just make out the neat print of The Jade Rat.

She wasn’t ready

He saw the pencils, desperately trying not to think of sketch on his notice board.

It wasn’t your fault

"Don’t you think you’ve done enough?", Max snarled, dragging his eyes to the split face.

Max straightened to his full height, glaring as he planted himself in the center of the room.

"Get out. You don’t get to be here, you don’t. I don’t care, I don’t. I don’t care who you are, what you are, what flavour of fucking witch you are, leave. Now".

He didn’t notice his voice rising.

"She wouldn’t want you here. She wanted me. This is my job, she was my friend, I took care of her, I knew her, I loved her, not you or your fucking school or your shitty teachers. Us. ME!"

Louder.

"Get the fuck out! You have no right to be here! LEAVE. NOW. Fuck you and your fucking school and your fucking shitty fucking mind wipes fucking ruining people before they’ve even had a fucking chance! GET OUT! Don’t touch anything else, just leave! Just go, don’t touch her stuff and just FUCKING GO!"

Padraic looks up from the rubber duck. The red-haired boy who Rosa had drawn with such affection stands before him. He takes in the sorrow and loss etched in his face. He smells the stench of alcohol. He notices with interest the malleus book he is carrying and the injured leg. He watches and listens as the pain and anger tumbles out. He was mistaken. There was someone who cared very deeply for Rosa.

He lets the anger run it’s course. He owes him that. He would need to return to the serious accusation about the Scholastica at a latter date. For now he had a very angry and broken boy to deal with.

He stands and calmly places the rubber duck into the trunk. Buying time to gather his thoughts.

He then calmly and confidently turns to face Max. His stern facade is gone replaced with an empathetic look.

‘You have every right to be angry. Rosa was a talented, bright and promising individual who has been taken away from us too early. It is a cruel and unjust situation we find ourself in.

The loss of one we have loved and cared for, well, there is no greater pain. The sorrow when we lose a loved one is the price we pay to have had them in our lives. Your sorrow speaks volumes of the impact that Rosa had on your life.

I am sorry. I did not know of your connection. I did not see you at her service. Inquisitor Michael’s service was cold and distant. She deserved better. The attitudes of her other colleague led me to believe that there would be no one around to pay their final respects and to deal with her effects.

I was mistaken and have done you a disservice. You had every right to deal with this in your own time and in your own way. I have taken this from you for which I am sorry.’

He waits to see if what he says has had an impact.

Max listened. His body slightly uncoiled at Padraic words, the lips unpeeling from their sneer, but he didn't take his eyes off the robed man.

However, at the mention of Michael and his speech, Max dropped his gaze. He let one crutch fall to the ground, using the remaining to limp awkwardly to the door, clutching the book.

He stood holding the door open with his head down and eyes burning into the carpet.

"Save your apologies, just get the fuck out", his tone icy.

Padraic waited.

" LEAVE " Max roared, stomping on the ground with the crutch, his voice cracking as he continues to stare at carpet.

Padraic stands for a moment longer. His gaze locked on the face of the grieving young man. He desperately wanted to be able to take some of the pain away. At the very least he wanted to guide this young man. If the book was anything to go by he was on a potentially very destructive and dangerous path. He wanted to show him that there were better ways of coping. That only distraction and despair lay at the end of a bottle.

Now was not the time. The young man needed to grieve privately.

He takes a final look at Rosa’s room and makes to leave. As he passes the young man he says gently.

‘I realise that you will not see it this way but I am not your enemy. The monsters you are reading about are. Be mindful, take care and most of all be kind to yourself. To live and learn is to honour those we have lost. If ever you want to talk my door is always open.’

He leaves.

In the corridor Padraic feels the rush of air and loud crack of the door slamming shut in it's frame.

From within there is the muffled bang of a heavy object being thrown.

Silence follows.

+++TO: Ashar Lear;
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael;
+++SUBJECT: Max

Ash,

I have reason to suspect Max isn't handling Rosa’s death very well. Could you check in with him? He's got some time whilst his leg heals but once he's medically fit I'm hoping he'll be mentally fit as well. We need every person we have.

Thanks,
Gregory

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Gregory Michael
+++FROM: Ashar Lear
+++ SUBJECT: Max

Thanks for reminding me. I’ve been meaning to but time keeps running out. And he might be avoiding me? I’m not sure. Rosa and I had our differences, I’m worried he thinks he’s the only one who misses her.

How are you holding up? You’re carrying it all right now, apart from what Siveter and I are taking on. If we’re each taking half a load, that leaves you with two. And you knew Kovach better than most of us. And...I imagine you miss her too. It hurts.

Remember: don’t drink alone. Call me.

Ash

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Ashar Lear;
+++FROM: Inquisitor Michael;
+++SUBJECT: Re: Max

Ash,

Would that I had time for drinking. Interrogator Meade arrived this morning, along with the rest of my warband, so they have started picking up some of the burden. Acid is delighted to have Dani taking up secretarial duties and has vanished off to the workshop. Or possibly the kitchen...

Have you met Meade yet? I should probabaly get you, her and Siveter together at some point. She's possibly a little miffed about having goes from being my only Interrogator to one of three, however temporarily.

Which reminds me... I need to send out a formal breifing note about splitting up Kovach's Agents. We won't bother doing anything formal until Drake has recovered but this state of everyone reporting to me is purely temporary.

I spoke once of how I could have tried to poach you from Kovach but felt your particular gift to be of more use to Hereticus than to Xenos. What I felt then remains true. Professionally speaking, and only professionally speaking, I think would be better for you if you went with Drake. Ultimately the choice will be yours though.

Yours,
Gregory

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Agents; Interrogators;
+++FROM: Gregory Michael;
+++SUBJECT: Organisation and Reporting

Dear All,

I'm sorry I haven't had more time to communicate with everyone before now, and I apologise in advance for how brief this will be. We're all under a lot of pressure at the moment. That said before I get started, I want to thank you all for the heroic efforts you've been undertaking to respond to this crisis.

Much of the current organisation of the Obelisk was personally built up by Inquisitor Kovach and Gaius Umberto. Other than those of mine and Drakes personal retinues, everyone was recruited by or on behalf of Kovach and reported to him, however generally made his resources available to whoever needed them to deal with any given mission.

With the various losses and injuries, I have been acting as defacto head, however this is not tenable in the long term. Inquisitor Drake and myself have discussed the issue and have decided to split the resources three ways. Drake and I will continue to act independently whilst using he Obelisk as a base and hub, and a dedicated group will be set up to run the Obelisk as a resource for the Inquisition in general (this is not uncommon in more populated sectors).

None of this will be taking effect until Drake has recovered, but something to start thinking about where you would like your future to lie.

It is worth noting that the Obelisk unit would lack any authority to act externally without the oversight of an Inquisitor. Without explicit instruction their mandate would simply be maintaining the security and facilities of the Obelisk. In practice however I'm sure we would find a way to keep someone around who could authorise whatever actions were needed.

If you have any questions please let myself or Drake know.

Yours,
Inquisitor Michael

+++MESSAGE ENDS

+++TO: Gregory Michael
+++FROM: Ashar Lear
+++ SUBJECT: Re: Max

I’m glad to hear you say that, Gregory - I was planning to ask for Drake, and didn’t want to offend. I know that a pariah would be very useful to the Ordo Xenos, but Hereticus has always been my path, and I would like to stay on it.

And...that isn’t the only reason. But I presume you know that. Professionally speaking.

Ash

+++MESSAGE ENDS

Ash and Max

The morning after Max’s altercation with Padraig, Ash arrives at his room at 1pm. She knocks, carols: “Room service!” and waits for him to answer the door.

She looks tired around the eyes, perhaps a little paler than usual. She’s carrying a tray laden with what the rest of the building describe as a ‘Carlin special’: fruit, a delicious salad laden with potatoes and egg, a slab of exquisitely-cooked meat between two slices of homemade sourdough bread, and a stack of cookies.

“Amon said you hadn’t had lunch,” she remarks, a little shyly. “And I haven’t seen you in days, Maxie. Can I come in?”

After a minute the door cracks open and Max's face appears in the meager gap. Does he look thinner? There are definitely bags under the eyes.

He appraises her, taking in the tired face, the unusual coyness and landing on the tray. He leans his head on the frame as he gives her a quiet smile, "You shouldn't have".

He appears to consider something for a few seconds before proceeding, "See, the thing is, it looks worse than the Ash Wastes in here. Just stuff everywhere, and after the week I imagine you've had, you don't want to add my dirty pants to the list of horrors you've witnessed". The door begrudgingly creaks further open as Max slides through the space, closing it firmly behind him as he stands in the hallway. "I need a change of scenery and you look like you need your bed. Maybe do it at yours?".

He’s hiding something. She’s sure of it. He’s never denied her access to his room before. But Ash knows how to tread with wounded creatures, so she gives a shrug and a smile. “Sure. I am sleeping, I promise. Just…” she wrinkles her nose. “Maybe not enough.”

Her room is just a few doors down. It’s Schola Progenium tidy, though the walls are covered in framed Masher Marle posters and corkboards covered in photographs. Max grins out from most of them, his face next to hers. Rosa does, too. Ash sits cross-legged on her bed, and pulls the chair closer so that Max can sit opposite her.

“I wanted to…” she hesitates, takes a breath. “I wanted to talk. About. It. I - you don’t have to tell me, if you don’t want to. But you weren’t there, at the end.” Her voice catches. She clears her throat, rebelling against it. "And you weren't at the funeral. I wanted to see how you were."

She looks down at her hands, twisting in her lap. "It was the worst thing I've ever done, Maxie." Ash's voice is very quiet. "It wasn't her any more. It wasn't either of them. I know that, I know that, but…" She shakes her head. "It doesn't make it any easier. It looked like her." Her gaze drifts to the nearest photograph featuring Rosa, a picture of the gang on a night out. “I never thought I’d have to…” Her voice catches again, and she closes her eyes for a moment.

“They turned on her so fast. Both of them. On one of their own”

He had come prepared for the rage he felt rise in his chest. It thrashed and brayed and poured out in every direction, at everyone, threatening to engulf everything left in Obelisk. But he hadn’t prepared for this. Ash was a force of nature. Seeing her unsure and hesitant, hearing her voice catch, made his mind swim with memories of the first few days in the psy room… It compelled him to reach out.

“...But you weren’t there, at the end.”

He wasn’t. He’d ran. He heard the sounds of wet bursting bodies, of echoing stairwells and the sharp tang of a blade on concrete. Those things . Max kept his eyes on the bed. He felt his stomach writhe with fear and acidic guilt.

"And you weren't at the funeral"

He thought of how he’d spent that time. Thinking on the destruction in his room caused the guilt within to roil spitefully.

"It was the worst thing I've ever done, Maxie."

He chanced a glance at her. Still, hands clasped, lips tight, closed eyes facing the photo of the whole group smushed on her bed in their confiscated Marle t-shirts.

He was angry about everything, but he felt it dissipate as uselessly against Ash as daemons against the bubble. In its wake it left behind a deep pit of burning shame.

“It wasn’t your fault…”, Max croaked. The words tasted sour and shallow.

At his words Ash seems to fold a little, as if they were what she needed to hear. "It was the demon's fault," she says softly. "Nobody else's. Once they're in, there's no going back. There were a few moments when it failed, and I thought maybe she's still in there, but...I don't know. I don't know if it's even possible. And you didn't see what it did to her. Even if - even if, the body would never have…"

She makes a small, helpless noise halfway between a laugh and a sob. "All my shots went wide, did you know that?" Ash looks... ashamed. "No matter how hard I tried, I couldn't hit. And if I had, if I could, those things would have gone earlier, and less people would have died, and…" She shakes her head. "But it looked like her, and it was like I couldn't…"

There are tears now. Ash scrubs her face with her hands, and avoids Max's gaze. "Sarge and Michael are better soldiers than me. Sarge got the one - the one wearing Kovach. Michael…" she trails off. She doesn't need to say which one Michael got.

"Sorry." She bites her lip again. "I shouldn't...you're upset too. You miss her too. More. I shouldn't have dragged you in here to cry on you." Ash straightens, visibly pulling herself together. Her hands reach up to pat her face and check her hair.

Then she stops, and looks at Max. "I'm so sorry, Maxie." Her tone is serious; she's apologising for the whole thing. One small, scarred hand reaches out to cover his. "I'm so, so sorry."

“You should be", Max sighed, removing his hand and reaching for the sandwich.

"The whole world fell apart in less than an hour. You kept calm, you did everything right, you got help, took down four bloodletters, did something no one should ever have to do and then went on to spend the next ten straight days putting everything back together before needing a bit of a cry? Frankly I haven't seen a disgrace like this since those so called rat burgers they were toting on Baetan".

"Fucking Baetan".

A half-cocked smile creeps in from the corner of his mouth. He tears the sandwich into two and hands her the larger half.

"Sarge couldn't do it. He picked Ko… He picked the other because it was easier. You have nothing to be sorry for. This place wouldn't be here without you" he pauses, "Or me, and Terra only knows the damage that would do to hen party morale throughout the lower middle hive".

Lunch proceeds much like this. Max doesn't offer any of his own feelings, but he cracks jokes (a shade darker than usual), shares food and generally does what he can to make her smile.

When he eventually leaves, either because Ash has some real work to do or because she really does need to sleep, he wraps her up in a big bear hug that goes on for several minutes. He tries to put a lot into that hug.

The hen party joke is her undoing. Ash is startled into a laugh that makes her chest heave, and before she knows it she's crying in earnest, half a sandwich in one hand as she rubs her face with the other.

She can't remember the last time anyone saw her cry. She does it in private, always - or takes out rage and frustration in the gym. The Schola taught her never to show weakness, and it's a lesson she took to heart. Being a pariah taught her to let other people's opinions wash off her like water, taught her to shrug and smile instead of crumbling.

She crumbles now. Just for a short while.

Ash lets Max coax her out of it, chuckling wetly at his jokes in spite of herself. When he hugs her goodbye she buries her face in his chest, holds him tight.

She washes her face, straightens her collar, does her best to look as though she's never cried in her life.

She goes back to work smiling.

Personnel Involved

The Rosa Effect

Contents

It Begins

Possession

Reinforcements

The Denouement

Immediate Aftermath

Intermediate Aftermath

Communications

A Message from Kovach

Padraic and Nadiya

Padraic and Amon

Amon and Acid

Padraic and Max

Ash and Max

Personnel Involved

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