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Here is the beginning of a story i'm writing about the Inquisition. Enjoy.
Detailed feedback is appreciated! I'm always trying to improve my work!


The Unionists were rioting again. Gafden, captain of Louvrebern’s Custodian Police Force, sighed as he drove his motorbike to the Trenibad Market, the site of this latest protest. It was the third time this week, the thirteenth this month. The Planetary government had grown tired of the riots and authorized him to use deadly force. Gafden desperately hoped he wouldn’t have to use it, but if the Unionists fired on his officers, as they had in the last riot, he might have to.

The Market was a scene of barely contained chaos. The Unionists, base laborers organizing for better working conditions, had looted and smashed the merchant stalls. Lines of riot-shield armed Custodians were blocking the exits, containing the riot and preventing it from spilling into the streets. They stared impassively as the manufactorum workers bellowed into their faces, moving only to throw back those workers daring enough to actually beat at their riot shields. Gafden parked his motorbike on the side of the road.

Is this how they protest their plight? With destruction? What makes them think they deserve to disrupt the Emperor's peace! He spotted a two officers standing back, one shouting orders into the vox set on the others back.

“Lieutenant Dresden,” he said, spotting the shouting man’s rank insignia,” what is the situation?” Dresden turned,

“Bad, sir. We estimate several hundred people are gathered in the Market. We can’t disperse them. Most of the merchants got out, several merchants are dead and the Unionists are beginning to break into the homes of others.” Gafden looked into the crowd. Sure enough, workers were hammering on the doors of some of the habs, bloodying their fists on the wooden doors.

“Have we been authorized to use deadly force?” Dresden said, almost eagerly. Gafden scowled. Dresden was a hothead, far too eager to avenge the deaths of their three officers from the last riot.

“Yes, lieutenant, we have. But I will not kill Imperial citizens unnecessarily.”

“But they have defied Imperial authority! Surely that is reason enough!”

“No, lieutenant,” said Gafden, emphasizing Dresden’s lesser rank. “We will fire when, and only if I give the order.” He turned to the officer with the vox array.

“Officer Fredo, give me your vox horn. Quickly.” Fredo handed it over to him. Gafden turned to the crowd, drawing his autopistol. He fired off three shots. The Unionists paused, momentarily stunned into silence. “Citizens! Disperse to your homes immediately!” There was silence for a moment. Then someone shouted out defiantly,

“The Emperor is just!” The crowd exploded, heaving against the shield wall. The officers lashed out with stun batons, breaking bones and cracking skulls. The workers storming the merchant’s homes resumed beating on the doors. Gafden turned to Dresden.

“How many merchants are left?”

“Three, with their families.” Dresden replied. Gafden turned back to the Market.

“Assemble three teams of ten, our strongest men. And have ornithopters ready to extract the merchants families.”

“Sir, we only have two ‘thopters on hand.”

“Then the third team will have to wait!”

Dresden turned, then paused, “I presume you’ll want to lead the third team, sir?” “Of course.”

Within five minutes the teams were ready, geared up in full body amour, stun batons and riot shields. Team three had combat shotguns strapped to their backs. Gafden was taking no chances if the ornithopters were held up. He took his place at the head of the team and slipped a copy of the Infantryman’s Primer under his armour. “All teams, go!” He said into his earpiece. The teams launched into the crowd, bludgeoning aside the workers unfortunate enough to be in their path. The crowd swarmed around them, grabbing at their clothing. Officer Solon, at the back of team one, was dragged down by the crowd. He screamed as they tore at his stomach, tearing it open and dragging his organs onto the ground.

The teams made it to their doors, slamming aside the assaulting workers and facing outwards towards the crowd. A frightened and disheveled merchant opened Team Ones door, and they backed into the house. Sergeant Trames, commanding the team, saw the merchant’s frightened wife and two small sons.

“Open the roof latch. A ‘thopter’s on it’s way.” The merchant nodded, and led his family upstairs.

Team two made it to their door without incident, but no one opened the door.

“Oh, bloody hell.” said Sergeant Hyborg, and kicked down the door. And was promptly shot in the chest, he grunted. The shot was absorbed by his armour.

“What the bloody hell did you do that for?” he shouted. The man was shaking.

“S-Sorry.” He stuttered

“Don’t apologize, let us in!” Hyborg said, pulling officers into the house. One fell over and was set upon by two workers. Hyborg kicked one in the face, feeling the cartilage splinter and break in his nose. He slammed the other with the edge of his riot shield, throwing him back. He dragged the officer in and turned to the merchant. “Get your family on the roof, there’s a ‘thopter.”

“Alright.” But he didn’t move.

“Don’t just stand there, get a move on!” Hyborg bellowed. The merchant jumped and ran hurriedly up the stairs.

Captain Gafden blocked a thrown piece of brick with his riot shield. He kicked down the door and the team hustled inside. Gafden climbed the stairs as his men formed up to defend the house. He climbed to the second floor and saw several doors. He picked the rightmost one, empty, the bed sheets unmade, belongings scattered everywhere, the signs of a desperate person. He tried the next one, still empty. He found them in the master bedroom, huddled together, the merchant holding his sobbing daughter, his wife on his shoulder. Gafden took off his black helmet, knowing the blank faceplate would only frighten them. The merchant stood.

“What is to happen to us?” he said

“You will be…evacuated by ornithopter as soon as possible. We will have to wait until they drop off the others, though.”

“How long will that be?” said the man, his voice wavering at the prospect of staying here any longer.

“Minutes, as long as it takes for them to find a place to land and come back.” Said Gafden. He could already see the ornithopters landing on the roofs of the other houses, the merchant families waiting, protected by officers with riot shields. The first two teams formed up and began to bludgeon a path out of the Market once they were all safely on board. Gafden looked at the merchant’s daughter, no more than sixteen years old, knew if he somehow failed, she would suffer the most, he swore to himself it would not happen under his watch.

For four agonizing minutes, Team three held the house, beating the workers away, so many that their stun batons became sticky with blood and brain matter. Broken bodies piled up at the doorstep. Once, the Unionists forced their way in by dint of sheer numbers. It took the entire squad to bludgeon, beat and kick the mob back into the Market. Finally, the ‘thopter came. Gafden took three men with him to protect the merchant and his family. Gafden loaded them in personally. The daughter went in last. Gafden smiled at her,

“It’s going to be alright.” He closed the door and turned around as the ‘thopter took off.

Then a shot rang out from the crowd. The bullet hit Gafden in a crease between his pectoral and abdominal plates, penetrating and drawing blood. Gafden sank to the ground. “The Captain is down! Captain Gafden is down!” screamed the sergeant.

Dresden was shocked. The Captain, dead? He shook himself, now was not the time for mourning.

“All units, return fire!” He bellowed into the vox horn.

Sergeant Hyborg turned to Dresden.

“Sir, they are civilians, sir! Even if one of the bastards shot the captain, the rest may not be guilty!”

“Dammit, Sergeant, they’ve wounded and killed several members of his Majesty’s Custodians! They are guilty in His eyes! Now stand down or I will have your stripes!”

Hyborg advanced on Dresden. “I cannot in good conscience fire on civilians, sir.”

“They are not civilians, Sergeant. They are traitors to the Golden Throne. Get back into line!”

Without warning, a shot rang out from the Custodians’ ranks, followed by a rapid volley form the rest. Flesh shredded and bones splintered as point blank shots tore through the crowd. People screamed in terror as the defender’s of Louvrebern’s peace gunned down the citizens they were sworn to protect. Hyborg looked on in horror, helpless to protect his city’s people. Dresden stared coldly as the unionists tried to run, but had nowhere to go as the Custodians forced them back into the square with their riot shields. Finally, Dresden shouted into his vox horn.

“Cease Fire! All units Cease Fire!”
After several moments, the shots died, leaving a deafening silence. Cries echoed through the square as shock set in and the smoke cleared to reveal the scale of the slaughter. Blood and bodies covered the square in front of the Custodians, some of them moving and moaning weakly. Many of those nearest to the Custodians lay in pieces, their bodies ripped apart by the force of the blasts.

“So be the fate of all traitors.” Dresden said, breaking the silence among the Custodians. Hyborg rounded on him, his face a mask of rage.

“You Bastard!” he roared, and punched Dresden in the face, knocking him unconscious. He fell to the pavement. Hyborg turned to the vox officer.

“Vox for medical assistance. Now!” he roared as the officer hesitated for a moment. The officer raised the vox speaker to his mouth.

“Dispatch, civilians are injured in Market Square. Medical assistance is required as soon as possible, over.”
The final count was 34 civlians, 2 officers dead. 79 civilians, 7 officers wounded.

Good story!

Hmmm. In general it was well written, maybe too much dialogue, but still a good start. The main problem i have with it is how you just mention that 'by the way' 75 civilians were killed. Describing the atrocity in greater detail or adding more tension before it happens would help beter get the point across.

Generally in depictions of authority losing control in fiction (See battlestar galactica 'Razor' for a good example) there is alot of indecision and fear in the men before they open fire, often the first shot is accidental etc.

Good points indeed, you're right. I'll see about working those in when i get the chance.

During the meanwhilst, enjoy the next section.


Two days after the Trenibad Market Action.

The orbital defense platforms turned their guns on the rip that suddenly appeared in the fabric of space, monitoring for any threat. The tear disgorged a small, sleek spaceship, clearly in the Imperial style, with gargoyle-mouthed lance batteries and a gothic prow, but devoid of any markings. The platforms kept their guns trained on the ship, for pirates were a constant threat in the system and this ship was clearly built for being inconspicuous. A bay opened in the bottom of the ship, and a knife-like gunship flew fourth. The guns powered down immediately when the gunship began to broadcast a symbol. The Stylized I of the Emperor’s Inquisition.

Inquisitor Benedict Dantes reviewed the information the Inquisitorial Archives kept about this new planet, Voulembre, the capital planet of the Burgundria system. According to the Archives, the sky above the planet had been the site of an ambush on an Ecclesiarchial treasure fleet, set by Sebastian Thor himself, during the Age of Apostasy. The battle had been fierce, lasting several days, but Thor had triumphed. Wreckage from the Ecclesiarchy’s battleships were scattered across the planet, and could still be explored by those daring enough. Ever since then the system had been a hotbed of sedition, piracy, and heresy.

Besides that, there was little of note in the system. Dantes wouldn’t be here at all if it weren’t for the strangely misplaced faith of these workers, these Unionists.

“Everyone ready?” He called out over the vox.

“The men are ready, Inquisitor.” Said Captain Price, a bear of a man with horrendous facial hair, through a cigar, near the door with his squad of stormtroopers.

“Ready as I’ll ever be.” Came a reply from Lias, a former bounty hunter who had joined Dantes’ team a decade ago and had since proven himself to be an invaluable asset.

“Ready to assist, master.” Dantes frowned. Interrogator Dergus had been forced upon him by the Ordo Herecticus Sector Command mere months before, and since then he had proven to be a nuisance from the start. This would be his first field operation. Dantes dreaded to think what might happen if he assigned him anything of importance. He also found it incredibly aggravating that the man continually called him “master”.

The gunship touched down in the spaceport. Dantes could see a gaggle of officials standing outside.

“Look sharp men. We are the Inquisition, after all.”

“Yes, sir.” Said Captain Price, extinguishing his cigar on the seat and flicking it into the corner. The Dirk-class gunship touched down at the spaceport, bordering the Rich and Middle Districts. The deployment ramp lowered with the hiss of hydraulics. The stormtroopers, very intimidating in their matte black carapace armour and arterial red berets with solid gold Inquisitorial I’s pinned to the front, filed out, forming two lines on either side of the walkway. Finally, Dantes strode out, dressed in plain, but well tailored clothes, his Inquisitorial rosette pinned at his throat. Lias and Dergus flanked him. A man with the pasty skin of one who sits behind a desk all day, came up to Dantes and offered his hand.
“Welcome to Voulembre, Inquisitor. I am Administrator Devere. Governor Hugo sends his regrets that he could not meet you in person. He has been bogged down in paper work ever since that silly affair at the Market.” He said, jovially.
“I’m sure he is, Administrator.” replied Dantes, taking the proffered hand. Devere shook it vigorously.
A fool, Dantes thought, clearly, good for nothing but shaking hands and welcoming those of import.
“The governor also request’s your presence at the Administratum meeting later this evening.”’
“Tell the governor I’d be delighted.”
“Excellent! You’ll be housed in one of the hotels near the Administratum offices.”
“Actually, Administrator, I would like to house my staff in the Middle District, to make the city more accessible should there another riot.” Devere’s smile faltered for a moment, before returning even bigger than ever.
“Of course, Inquisitor. It would be better were there to be… a disturbance.”
“Yes, is there some form of transportation available for my staff?” Devere started.
“W-We thought you would have brought some with you.” He stuttered.
“No matter. We will simply commandeer some of yours.” Said Dantes, looking past the bureaucrats and spotting a large group of black cars, drivers smoking close by. “You seem to have transportation in ample supply, anyway.”
“Y-yes, of course, Inquisitor. Take whatever you like.” said Devere, trying to regain his composure.
“If you could point out yours, Administrator it would please me to use them.” Said Dantes, unable to stop himself from grinning.
“Erm…of course, Inquisitor. They’re over there.” Said Devere, pointing out a trio of black cars.
“Perfect. Thank you for your cooperation.” Said Dantes, and he set off, the stormtroopers forming up behind him, Dergus hurrying to catch up. Lias sidled up to Dantes.
“Nice move there, Inquisitor. Looks like he could use some time in the sun anyway.” He said, grinning. Dantes laughed out loud, attracting the gaze of the bureaucrats, now worried what he might deprive them of next in the name of the Emperor. As they neared the cars, Dantes gestured to Captain Price. He moved to the front.

“All of you! Bugger off! Inquisition!” He roared. The drivers scattered, frightened by the mere sight of this hulking, horridly unshaven man, perhaps even more so than the threat of eternal damnation for interfering with the Inquisition. Price detailed men to drive as Dantes, Lias and Dergus got in the first one. As they began to search the streets for suitable housing, Dergus looked intently at his master. Dantes regarded him.

“Speak plainly, Interrogator.” Dergus seemed to swell up, before bursting out.

“Master, forgive me, but why do you flout the Emperor’s divinely ordained governments so…so casually! Sure no one, not even Inquisitors, have the right to disrupt his subjects in such a manner!”

Dantes stared balefully at his apprentice.
“You have a lot to learn, Interrogator. Firstly, it is an Inquisitor’s duty, right and privilege to disrupt Imperial society to fight the heretic. Secondly, every man is guilty of one thing or another, so we have the right to treat anyone, anyway we want.”
“But you could have at least accepted his offer to take a hotel, at least he could save some face then.” Dergus said, flustered.
“Spies, Interrogator. Spies. Never, ever accept offered rooms, unless you have no choice. They’ll be wired up to the flowers with cameras and vox thieves.”
Dergus seemed to shrink.
“Forgive me, master.” Dantes said nothing as the convoy pulled up to a house. Captain Price turned around
“The database says this is one of the houses where the government’s housing one of the families who lost their homes in the last riot, sir.”
“Good work, captain. Find us some lodgings nearby, we’ll question the victims tomorrow.”
“Very good, sir.”

Dantes arrived at the Administratum meeting slightly late: he felt it made possibly guilty parties nervous to have to wait on an Inquisitor. He had left most of the stormtroopers back at the Inn, bringing only Price and two others, Aguinaldo and Janus. He left them outside the meeting room door, to show who was really in charge. Dantes entered a long room, murky with lho smoke. He found Dresden sitting next to a man with a handlebar mustache, Governor Hugo, along with other officials, including two men in Custodian, the local version of Arbites, uniforms, one of whom seemed to be trying to hide an injury. They all turned when he entered, then most quickly looked away in fright.

“Shall we begin, gentlemen?” He said, in a very cordial fashion. Hugo cleared his throat.

“Err, yes. Let’s begin.” He said, in a deep, base voice that seemed made for a politician. Dantes and his cadre sat at the end of the table opposite Hugo, Dantes staring balefully at the governor. He continued to stare as the minutes of the last meeting were read, right up until Dresden, sitting at Hugo’s right hand, stood up.

“Gentlemen, I believe our first order of business is to congratulate Captain Gafden, our brave and courageous Chief of Custodians in this fair city, for enduring his ordeal at the market riot two days ago,” He clapped, and the others joined in gradually. “While I’m sure those present here have all read the reports, remind us again, Captain, how you survived this would-be fatal shot.” Gafden seemed embarrassed.

“Well, it seems the Emperor protects his own, gentlemen. Before I began the rescue operation, I had slipped a copy of the infantryman’s primer into my body armour, in the very spot where I would be shot. It robbed the bullet of most of its force, though I was in no shape to protest as my men forced me onto the ornithopter. The medicae says one of my lungs is somewhat punctured, but I should be able to return to active field duty in a few weeks.”

“Excellent!” cried Dresden. “Truly excellent! You’re a hero to the public, Captain.” He began to clap again, the others joining in again.

“Thank you, sir.” Said Gafden; reddening from the attention he was receiving. Dantes raised a gloved hand and the room immediately quieted.
“I believe,” Dantes said, in his best authoritarian voice “There was a reason for this meeting other than praising heroes. I certainly did not come here for that.” Hugo cleared his throat again.

“Yes, yes, I specifically postponed this meeting for the Inquisitor’s benefit. The number and increased aggression of the protests has attracted the attention of the Inquisition. Inquisitor, I leave the rest to you.” Dantes rose.

“Thank you, governor. As the governor stated, the increased aggression and number of riots on this world has attracted the Francorum sub-sector Ordo command. They have dispatched me to… dispense judgment to those responsible.” Several men in the room, including, curiously, Hugo himself, shifted nervously in their seats. “Now, who ordered the Custodians to open fire on the citizens in the Square?” The other Custodian, with a square jaw and wide set eyes, raised his hand.

“I, Inquisitor.” Dantes walked over to him and backhanded him across the face.

“Idiot! Now they have martyrs! That will only steel their resolve. It may even prevent my plan from succeeding.”

“And what might that be?” said one of the Administratum clerks. “What plan do you have to stop this…menace to our industry?” Dantes faced the clerk.

“And you are…?”

“Minister Buris Fedstore, Department of Trade.”

He would be concerned. I wouldn’t be surprised if he’s had a reduction in pay recently. Thought Dantes. “Simple. These are simple manufactorum workers. Someone is organizing this, all we need do is lure him or her into the open and dispense the Emperor’s justice. Once they are deprived of leadership and energy, they will disperse in short order. End of story.”

“And, err, when will you begin this plan?” asked Fedstore, anxiously.

“It has already begun.”

another very interesting story unfolds...

really like where this is developing...

good luck with inventing further installments,

cheers, vik

I just edited the Trenibad Market action, if you fellas want to take a look. And here is the next installment of The Emperor's Justice! Enjoy


Interrogator Dergus walked along the pavement, dressed in street clothes worn by the locals. He tried to walk casually, but he was thrilled that the Inquisitor had chosen him, him, for this task. Not Lias, not Price, not those arrogant storm troopers, him! He hurried down the street, nearly empty but for a few beggars. Spotting a sign for a bar, The Maroon Hen, he opened the door and slid inside. The room was poorly lit, and further clouded by lho smoke. A bar ran along the opposite side of the wall, with stools manned by a menagerie of characters, drinking or taking a late night meal. Indistinct conversation flowed around the room. Women in low-cut dresses lurked in corners, beckoning to anyone who might be interested, waiting to rob them of their money. In tables around the bar people drank and ate and passed along shady goods. Dergus ignored them and sat down at a free stool next to two surly men in factorum clothes, still smelling of chemicals, talking to one another over their glasses.

“Just got off shift, eh?” Dergus said, in a low voice. They glared at him sullenly. He noticed that one only had three fingers on the hand holding his beer, undoubtedly from an industrial accident.
“Yea. So?” Dergus looked around quickly and leaned in closer.
“Seems like the dear governor don’t care about people like you two.” Three Fingers looked at his partner, a character with most of his face turned to pink scar tissue from a chemical spill.
“What’s it matter to you, Laner?” said Three Fingers. Laner, Dergus had been told, was low class slang for the wealthy of Louvrebern, referring to their use of private transportation in the lanes of the road. Dergus decided to work on their assumption.
“I have means. I can help you.” Now Pink Face spoke up.
“Help us with what, Laner?” Dergus put on his best mildly insulted face.
“Your resistance! Your struggle to overthrow the government and gain freedom!”
A tic had sprung up on Pink Face’s cheek.
“Uh huh. And how could you help, Laner?”
“I have money and connections to go with it.”
Pink Face looked unimpressed.
“We got money.” He said
“We got connects.” said Three Fingers
Dergus held up a finger.
“Ah, but do you have the kind of connections one like me has?”
Pink face paused.
“Maybe.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure if I were you. I know plenty of good arms dealers in the system, and I know a few specialists who might appreciate your plight.”
Pink Face seemed reluctantly interested. He stood up and Dergus followed suit.
“Fine. Come with us and we’ll talk, but no promises! I dunno how the boss’ll take you.” Dergus put on his best winning smile.
“Certainly. Lead on.”
Dergus followed Pink Face to the back of the bar, Three Fingers following. One of the women quickly walked over from two drunkards and took Dergus’ hand, making soft cooing noises. Pink Face rounded on her.
“Let’m go, Marge. It’s business.” With a very fake look of childlike indignity, Marge let go and walked back to the two drunkards. Pink Face glared at her for a moment, then turned to the back wall of the bar, next to a broken table. He knocked on the wall three times, then paused, then knocked once, another pause, then twice. After a moment, the wall slid back to reveal a dingy room with a flickering lume-globe. Derhus walked in. The wall closed behind Three fingers.
Derguss looked around. “Where do w-“ was all he got to say before his head exploded with pain and the world went dark.


I would particularly like some detailed feedback on this part, as I think i could do better on this part

first : nice to have a new installment of your story to unfold.
then i have to tell you that it bugged me a bit that derguss haddn´t really had to argue to get the attention of the to worker and would be conspirators... it was a bit too smooth for my taste...also to have the "resistance" in a backroom just inside the bar is a bit too close?
a bit more insight into why derguss was chosen for the task would also be nice...after all even he saw plenty of alternative men to fullfill the task.
the brief episode with the supposed porstitute was something for now i don´t understood...maybe later when the story unfolds further.
liked the bit about the description of the "laner"... that gives the story background and charcter... a living feel.
i like how derguss gave the two guys names due to their apearances, that is a good touch.

Derguss looked around. “Where do w-“ was all he got to say before his head exploded with pain and the world went dark

this i think is missleading...given the amount of energy and other means of weaponry around the description: his head exploded...i expect no further appeareances of derguss other than inside of a morgue...^^
mabye change that "head" into "mind" for a better following of your intentions by the reader...

oh and on a personal matter... if you change the pieces you already wrote, could you do something to make them stand out a bit more? i am not really fond to repitition so i would love to see your changes on the story but not to read anew... as i am quite good to remember the already read parts.^^

all in all i am still glued to your output so don´t feel attacked by my criticism...

cheers, vik

Thanks for the feedback vik, you make very valid and intelligent points. I appreciate it and hope you'll continue to give me feedback in later installations.

Interesting comment about his head exploding in pain. I never really thought about it that way, but i'm not sure his "mind exploded in pain" is much better. The phrase i used seems pretty common to me, perhaps it sounds strange to you as (i assume, forgive em if i'm wrong) you are a native German speaker. I couldnt say for sure, but i'm going to keep the phrase as it seems the best way to say what i mean.
The idea was he walks into the back room and someone behind the door comes out and bashes him in the head with a pistol or whatever. He's not dead but knocked out. As this section is meant to be from Derguss' POV it's impossible to describe that. Perhaps i will mention that in the next section.

As for the prostitute thing, it really doesnt mean anything, just to give you the idea that this isnt a "respectable" establishment where some sort of righteous freedom fighters gather, or something

When you ask that i make the edits more specific, do you mean me telling you where i changed things in the story? In that case, i took Perkustin's advice and added what i hope is more tension to the end of the riot scene, after Captain Gafden is shot. I will say where i make edits in the future, i apologize.

As for the rest of your questions, all will be revealed to you in time(that is to say, in the next 2 or 3 sections).

Your comments in general tell me that it may have been better to release this when i had the next part ready, instead of by itself, as your confusion would have been avoided that way. Again, my apologies.
My intention was to add a little bit of suspense to the story.

well as the writer it is your part to choose which advice you take or not... so i think the mart about the mind/head i am understanding quite good...(you´re right...am german to the bone, sadly^^) i think it works fine too as is, and it was quite clear for me that it was from derguss point of view... so expressing his feelings that way is valid to say the least.
for making the changes more concevable i had italics in mind so to better see what was changed...might be a bit complicated tho as if you only change small pieces of text like only words an such things it would get pretty confusing i guess.
when i make criticism i have to say that you are way ahead of the game as i havn´t wrote fiction myself before and am a bit afraid to do it ...so bear in mind that bravery is on your side^^ so take every criticism with a good measure and do (i insist) write more^^
i think this story will come out great... by the way i loved your dread story too...was a great read... and now you create an even bigger world with lots of more people to live in...respect!
and consider me a follower of this thread as i come to like more and more fanwritten fluff as it is far more entertaining than the yet not read output of professional writers in official book for 40k!
so will be waiting eagerly for next update^^

cheers, vik

I like this lore!

Thanks for your support, Asherian. Of course though, if you didnt like it I would have to execute you for heresy btw, nice sig

And vik, thanks, I'm sure any author is glad when he(or she) is told that someone likes their work. Just keep doing your part and make sure the thing makes sense!
As for marking edits, placing them in italics wouldn't be the best idea, as i write thoughts and emphasis' in italics. The way i have done it in the past is simply say where i have made major changes to a story, and mention the general minor changes made throughout. Not the best way, but it's pretty good if you ask me.
There doesnt seem to be a system for major or minor changes to forum posts. I saw it on the articles page but not here, interestingly enough. They had a system where major changes acted like new posts and brought the thread back to the top of the list in the Blakc Library Publishing Forums. It'd be nice to have that here, but you can't have everything, can you?

As for marking edits, placing them in italics wouldn't be the best idea, as i write thoughts and emphasis' in italics.

that i fully undeerstand, this is also a thing an author needs!
so i probably need to reread all ^^ won´t hurt as it is after all well written^^

vik

Indeed
And now, onto the next installment! If i work at it, i might be able to have it ready by tomorrow. Waaaaaaagh!!!

*crosses fingers*

I'm enjoying your writing. Some ideas for the last section you've written:
- at the beginning, have our intrepid neophyte remember with great pride Inquisitor Dantes giving him a knowing smile as he said "You are the perfect fit for this job" or something like that.
-Add on to "head exploded in pain" with something similar to "and his whole world went dark" or whatever you want his injury to be. Extreme pain could mean that he was clubbed on the head, but not enough to knock him out, and now the undoubtedly strong interrogator is about to rip some gak.

Thanks for reading, the "You are the perfect fit for this job" is a good idea and fits in with what my plan for this part(perhaps you are secretly an Eldar farseer sent to send me astray )
However, I don't understand your second suggestion, as your suggested addition was already there to begin with and if i may the exact quote is "his head exploded with pain and the world went dark".
I meant to write it as if he was getting knocked out by a blow to the head, so i imagine you simply misread it. No worries

Whoops afoodle. Didn't notice that.

Now I'm guessing that in your future plot,

that's why I suggested that little extra piece of memory.

I am finding this a nice read Rebel Scum. I hope there will be more to read, as for critiques, you got a nice amount, and Vik is interested and he has helped me with feedback as well.

All will be revealed to you in time, my reader.
Thanks for the read, shas

Anytime.

The next installment! *fanfare* Enjoy!



Durguss awoke in a haze of pain.

“Ah, our guest is awake.” Said a smooth, condescending voice, and a harsh, white light was shined into his face. He blinked furiously as his eyes slowly adjusted to the light.

“Interrogator Lionel Crassus Derguss… Do Inquisitorial agents usually carry their identification on undercover missions?” a blurry form asked, and tossed Derguss’ Inquisitorial rosette onto a table in front of him.

“Did you think you could just stroll in and become one of us so easily? You are a fool. We let you in.” Said another form in the corner of the room. Derguss recognized that voice through the pain fog in his mind. Pink Face.

“Indeed. Your master, this Dantes, must be either extremely arrogant or quite a fool if he thought such an obvious ploy would succeed. Much to your detriment, I’m afraid.”
The room was gradually coming into focus as Derguss regained his senses. He was in a room with bare metal walls. A metal table sat in front of him, stained by old blood. He was sitting in a hard metal chair. The man speaking to him was standing opposite him, his hands supporting him from the table. Another man leaned in a corner. That must be Pink Face. Another man, who hadn’t spoken yet, stood next to a door, wearing a white coat.
He tried moving his arms. They moved apart but stopped short suddenly. He was handcuffed. The man in front of him smiled coldly.
“You must realize you can’t escape. There are three men in this room, and you couldn’t overpower us in your weakened state. You have lost much blood. Speaking of which,” he gestured to the man in the coat. “This is a doctor. He can help you. But we need you to cooperate with us.”

Derguss’ senses were almost completely clear now. The pain in the back of his head was still present, but his training at the Schola on Sevostar allowed him to ignore it. The man in front of him had dark skin and was wearing functional clothing that seemed more at home outdoors than in a bleak metal room, as well as wire rimmed glasses. The doctor was bald, and had the look of a snake about him, with a lipless, evil smile on his face. He held a brown bag of tools at his side.
The man in the glasses leaned across the table. “What is your answer, Interrogator.”
“F-frak you.”
The man sighed “It’s too bad we can’t just kill you. You’re going to be made an example of. Of course, the good doctor is allowed to have his way with you before then, so long as you aren’t maimed… to badly.”
The Doctor placed his bag on the table, opened it, and pulled out a pair of pliers. His wicked smile widened slightly.
“I’ve found that pulling fingernails is an excellent way to loosen one’s tongue.” He gazed at him as a scientist examines a particularly interesting specimen. “I don’t think he’ll take long.” He said to the man in glasses. Then he took the pliers and closed them around Derguss’ left index finger’s fingernail. Without warning, he yanked the nail out.

Derguss’ screams echoed through the empty building.



The next morning, a crowd gathered in Trenibad Market. There had been rumors of a spy sent by the corrupt Inquisition to kill the Unionist leaders and derail their glorious fight for justice and equality. He had been caught, and the Speaker was coming to answer all their questions. There was a raised platform in the center of the square, where public speakers had often addressed the city. A party of eight men entered the square and began making its way through the crowd, one of them being dragged with a black bag covering his head. Whispers began circulating through the crowd. It was the Speaker!

The man with the bag over his head was thrown onto the platform and a man with a face that was mostly pink scar tissue. The other men surrounded the platform, drawing weapons which they held loosely at their sides. The man with the scarred face began to speak.
“Yesterday, a spy tried to enter our ranks.” The Speaker paused, and his mouth twisted in disgust. “He comes from the corrupt and decadent Inquisition.” Hisses came from the crowd. “He came to kill your leaders and cut our glorious fight short!” Cries of anger and “No!” came from the crowd. The Speaker held up a hand, and the crowd quieted. “This tells me what I already knew.” He paused for a moment, the crowd hanging on his every word. “The Inquisition and the High Lords of Terra above them are afraid of us! They fear what we can do if we unite! This is why they send spies in the dead of night to kill us! They are afraid!” Roars of approval shook the air in the square.

Lias watched this dispassionately behind his scope, the sights trained on the Speaker’s face the whole time. He activated his microbead. “Do you want me to take him out now?”
“Not yet, let him work them up. The blow will fall all the harder that way.”
“Copy that, out.”

The Speaker was whipping the crowd into a frenzy. He grabbed the bag covering the kneeling man’s face. “Here is the spy sent by the enemies of our cause!” He tore off the bag to reveal the beaten, bloodied face of Derguss. More hissing, the closest tossed garbage at him
The Speaker took a laspistol from his coat. “We shall send a message to the governor, the Inquisition, and the Imperium! We will not be trifled with!” He lowered the pistol to Derguss’ head.
Lias fired. The Speaker looked up as the crack of the sniper rifle shot across the square. The bullet hit him right between the eyes, drilling a path through his brain before exiting the other side, cracking the back of his skull open and sending chunks of bone, brains and blood into the crowd. The Speaker was thrown back, tumbling from the platform in a heap.
His guards had only a second to react before they were cut down with short bursts of gunfire. Six men wielding short, stubby autoguns rushed to the platform, five turning to face the now fleeing crowd. Some unionists had guns and were trying to shoot their attackers, but the suddenness of the assault and the fleeing crowd made aiming impossible, and their shots hit only air. Many were killed as Lias shot them down with careful shots from his rifle.
The largest of the attackers grabbed Derguss. “On your feet, Interrogator,” Said a familiar voice, even as the reek of bad hygiene and cigar smoke hit Derguss’ nostrils “We are leaving!” An unadorned rhino transport rolled into the square, stopping next to the platform. Rounds spanged off the hull of the Rhino as the few remaining unionists vainly tried to stop the attackers from escaping. The stormtroopers hustled Derguss inside and the door closed behind them. And the Rhino rumbled away from the Square.

Dantes waited inside. “You have done well, Interrogator. I believe we have ended this insurrection for good, thanks to you.” Derguss looked at him
“S-sir, I don’t understand.” Dantes looked at him scrutinizingly. This was the first time he hadn’t referred to him as master. “I was counting on your incompetence to get you caught. My hope was that the bluntness of your attempt would insult their leader to the point that he would show himself and make a spectacle of your failure. It was a gambit, there wasn’t any guarantee he would come himself and not send someone else, or that they wouldn’t just kill you and be done with it, but given how charismatic that man was, I’m sure it was him. Which reminds me, Lias should be here right about… now.” There was a thump on the roof. The top hatch opened and Lias fell through it, landing on the floor in a crouch. He stood up.
“I believe our very important friend and had his senses take their leave of him.”
Dantes nodded. “Right. I believe we are done here. We’ll stay on for three days to be certain things have died out. And Derguss?”
“Sir?”
“Don’t let your rescue give you any ideas about your own importance to our operation. You’re simply fortunate I have no other Interrogators. My old mentor, the great Rammikus, had a hundred acolytes at his beck and call, all of whom were easily replaceable. Deaths were almost every day. Be grateful I am not as well endowed with apprentices as he was.”
“Of course, sir.”

I like it. At the beginning, describe the voice that addresses Derguss. For example, "Ah, our guest is awake" said a voice full of contempt.

I am hoping that the true leader is one we have not seen yet, that way the situation can be more potent when they find out that this was a ruse.

The man with the bag over his head was thrown onto the platform and a man with a face that was mostly pink scar tissue

...
there is a syntax error there... reads as if there are two men being thrown on the platform instead of the one former...

also hope that there is still a bit of double play to be seen as the pinky is not to be the boss of the revolutionists...
other than that i think you did really well... not to graphic when it came to the torture business, i am most thankful for that! and still descriptive enough to understand what came next...very cinematic turn of scenes that way!
also i like how you portray your charcters now and show the perverted and selfrighteousness of dantes!

it gets definatly better!

vik

Awesome, can't wait to read more! Looks like Dantes will have a bigger fight on his hands than originally anticipated


Oh, and I effing love your signature:

Thou shalt not refer to the Rhino transports as "pimp wagons," nor shalt thou use the phrase, "If the Rhino be rockin, don't come a knockin."
Thou shall not ask a Sister if you might "donate some of your own Gene-Seed."

Made me LOL

All will be revealed to you in time, my readers

Many thanks, mega bassist, glad you got a kick out of the sig

That phrase does read rather oddly, i will admit. I'll see to changing it. And you're right about the torture part, I didn't go into detail because I'm a little squeamish about it myself and I feel i wouldn't have done it justice if i had written it out.

Sadly though, the next part may not be ready by Sunday, as I'm going on a trip for three days and between that and studying i cant guarantee I'll be able to get the next part ready for the weekend(I'm trying to turn this into a weekly thing, so I can say "What will happen next to Dantes and his heroric band? Find out next Sunday, on The Emperor's Justice!" lol)

Nothing new yet? Aw man

Haha, no rush though

The next day, Louvrebern Propoganda Tower.

A man in a dark cloak entered through the double doors. The guard on duty looked up at him.
“Uh…” he said, utterly dumbfounded at this strangely clad intruder. At a near total loss for words, he said the only thing he could think of: “uh, do you have a permit?”
The man threw open his cloak to reveal the bright red explosives strapped to his body.
“The broadcast room.”



Ugh I apologize that this is all i have to show after two weeks. It's been hectic trying make up work i missed over the trip : P
I will flagellate myself for my failure, and more will come next week, or my head in a box

I want more!

Because its awsome!