‘So you promised Thane,’ said Wienand guardedly. ‘Did you have the right to decide that alone? Who is to say the others will agree?’
‘They will agree,’ said Veritus. ‘My question is, do you?’
‘If you are confident you can impose change, why do you need my opinion at all?’ she said.
‘Because you are still the Inquisitorial Representative alongside me. We were opposed, now we work in unity. A unified decision from us will carry much more weight.’
‘So you are not confident of change.’
‘Without you,’ said Veritus, ‘no.’ His breath wheezed. ‘I am uncommonly tired. Walk with me a way, there is a bench not far.’
He led the way down a narrow path of chipped bark. Through it and the litter of the forest floor patches of growth mesh were visible, twisted up by the actions of the trees’ roots. The more she looked, the less natural the forest became.
‘If I am to trust you, then there can be no more secrets between us,’ she said.
‘Agreed,’ said Veritus. Though they went at no great pace, he was breathing heavily.
‘Then tell me more of the Space Marine Chapter stationed on Titan that nobody, except you, appears to be aware of.’
Veritus grasped at branches as they went on, only lightly, as if he were seeking approval from them. They came to a clearing in the trees. A wooden bench made of a split tree trunk occupied the centre. Water pipes and a blinking environmental control station at the edge of the glade further undermined the nominally natural feel of the forest.
‘They are an important part of the reorganisation, and a means to convince the other inquisitors to agree to our plan.’
‘It is your plan, Veritus, and I still do not know what it is.’
Veritus had trouble lowering himself to sit. He leant on Wienand and she sagged under the pressure of his armoured grip as he sat. When he let go, it was as if the weight of the world had come off her shoulders. She sat beside him.
‘They are called the Grey Knights,’ said Veritus. ‘They are a force of warriors without peer, engineered from gene-seed taken from the Emperor Himself a thousand years ago. A last, parting gift from our god before He was taken from us to sit upon His Golden Throne.’
‘They are Adeptus Custodes then?’ Wienand rubbed her hand along the wood. Whereas the bench in the Sigillite’s Retreat was smooth and dry, the grain of this wood was rough under her touch, the strands of lignin still swollen with moisture. Although dead, it smelt fresh; a sense of life still clung to it.
‘They are greater than the Adeptus Custodes,’ said Veritus. ‘Each one is a potent psyker. Their strength is in their brotherhood. As the end approached, the Emperor foresaw a need for warriors who could stand against Chaos, incorruptible and mighty, and He made them so, the mightiest warriors beside the primarchs He ever created. For them, the daemon holds no fear. I believe that, in time, the Emperor hoped mankind would realise its psychic potential, avoid the catastrophe that struck the eldar, and end the threat of Chaos forever. In the Grey Knights, I see hope for the future. They are the pinnacle of what we could be.’
‘The eldar are psychic by nature. From what they have hinted, that sped their destruction. They tell me that we have already fallen. The Dark Age of Technology was our era of might, and even then we could not match their empire of old. They persisted for millions of years, we for mere thousands and now we slowly die.’ She thought of the Sigillite’s Retreat as she said that.
‘We rose again, and we can rise a third time. They are the spent force, not us,’ said Veritus. ‘We must believe this, or we are doomed. When you see the Grey Knights, you will understand that there is hope.’ He was trembling. His breath was shallow, and he perspired. Wienand looked at him with concern.
‘Are you ill, Veritus?’
‘I have felt better. I shall rest later. First, hear me out. There were once four of us who knew of this Chapter. The secret has been mine alone to keep for years. I do not share it lightly.’ Veritus became grim. ‘Assassination, execution, these have been the sentries to this knowledge. I have been forced to employ Exterminatus on three occasions to keep them hidden. That is how delicate the matter of their existence is. I could not call them in to fight the orks. Their psychic abilities would have proved useful, but though they are mighty, they would have fallen, and we would have lost a valuable weapon against Chaos.’
‘We needed all the warriors we could get,’ said Wienand.
‘They would not have tipped the balance. We would have won or lost with or without them. Weapons should be applied to the appropriate threat.’ He clenched his fists on his knees and turned to her. ‘And we agree there are two threats.’
‘Of the alien and Chaos,’ she said.
‘The aliens of this galaxy pose a danger. If I had not believed it before, then this war against the Beast would have convinced me. But we cannot ignore Chaos. Dealing with both is impossible under our current organisation. I believe that the remit of the Inquisition is too diffuse. We need to specialise so that our efforts can be better focused. This is my proposal, that the Inquisition adopt a bicameral nature. The Ordo Xenos shall concentrate its affairs upon alien threats. The Ordo Malleus shall devote itself to rooting out Chaos wherever it shows itself. With the Grey Knights as the Chamber Militant of the Ordo Malleus, and the Deathwatch providing a similar role to the Ordo Xenos, both ordos will be equal in power. The Inquisition will be better able to combat threats mundane and supernatural.’
‘What of those inquisitors who have no desire to specialise?’ asked Wienand.
‘There are some, but most you and I know have their own particular areas of interest. In any case, there are other dangers facing the Imperium, these two are just the largest. I am not suggesting an absolute division. The nature of these threats is that sometimes they are intertwined. Individual inquisitors will be free to move between them. Others might stay free of both.’
‘What if some of the others take to your idea and suggest the need for more ordos?’ said Wienand.
‘Then they can be constituted as and when they are needed. With the model of these two in place, I would imagine it would be easier to do so. For the time being, two will suffice. Wienand, I am speaking of creating a framework which can support inquisitors, give them access to specialist equipment and personnel, and an army to use if required. I am not speaking of imposing an absolute hierarchy on the Inquisition.’
‘But this will introduce hierarchy. It must, by its nature. With hierarchy comes oversight,’ she said. ‘Our comrades do not like to work with others looking over their shoulders.’
‘Nobody is immune to corruption. Oversight is needed. A rogue inquisitor can do so much harm.’
Wienand’s mouth twisted. ‘This change is greater than specialisation. You are suggesting a hierarchy where none exists. There is no ruling council for the Inquisition.’
‘I am not proposing a binding hierarchy. Our freedom to act as we see fit is our greatest strength. It is time the organisation we do have is formalised, that is all. We cannot rely on ad hoc quorums to guide our fate. There must be a council of the most high Inquisitorial lords.’
Wienand laughed softly. ‘The Senatorum Imperialis has exhausted my patience with councils.’
‘Ours shall be smaller, and uneven in number so that deadlock can be avoided. Until now, I have assigned the Grey Knights where I see fit. We must decide a new mechanism for their deployment. I cannot live forever. Would you put that power into the hands of another?’
She gave him a look. ‘You trust yourself, evidently.’