This story is an unofficial story based, without permission, on the Warhammer/Warhammer 40,000 intellectual property owned by Games Workshop Ltd.
Varlas's head felt as though he had hit it repeatedly against a rockcrete wall. His eyes pulsed with pain as he tried to open them. He felt somehow numb, struggling to realise what it was. After flexing his muscles and checking his neural impulses he realised what it was: he couldn't feel his psychic powers. Had they abandoned him? He felt a sudden rush of fear at the prospect; he felt naked and defenceless without his mental abilities."He's awake," said a feminine voice. It was warm and sounded sincere. Varlas didn't recognise the voice.
"Ah, good. Thank you, Karla," replied an older male voice, the same honey laced accent he had heard before. He now struggled to remember where he had heard it, and at that how he had come to be here. Not that he knew where he was. His eyes refused to open as though held in place. "Karla, would you mind removing the gauss strips from our friend's eyes?" the man asked.
"Yes, sir," Karla replied cheerily.
As the gauss was removed from his eyes the light around him turned the inside of his eye lids a light orange-brown. Varlas screwed his eyes shut in response.
"I need you to open your eyes, young man," said the male voice. Varlas didnât want to but he found the man's voice irresistible. Slowly he opened his eyes. Daggers of pain speared his retinas, but an intravenous drip in his arm quickly pumped pain balms into his blood stream culling the pain before it became crippling.
"There we are," said the man.
"He has really nice eyes. Kind of funny shaped but nice all the same," said Karla. Karla Bon was the first person that Varlas's eye settled upon. As his eyes became accustomed to the light he saw her properly. She still wore her purple bodyglove. Her green eyes took in his face, her lips pursed in a smile. Her blonde hair was now resting in a loose ponytail instead of the tight style she had worn before. As Varlas looked upon her face the memories flooded back to him from aboard the Warp Diver. Varlas sat up fast and winced as pain shot across his chest regardless of the pain balms.
"Where is Mistress Rasa?" he asked.
The Inquisitor came into view as he began speaking. "She is fine. In fact, for the past several days you have been unconscious and I have had her assisting our ship master on the bridge." The inquisitor's voice was reassuring. Varlas scanned his face for any dishonesty and, satisfied he could find none, relaxed his posture allowing some of the pain to bleed away.
"What is your name, young man?" asked the inquisitor. Varlas thought for a second, he couldnât quite remember.
"I would ask your name first," he replied as he struggled to remember.
A wry grin crossed the inquisitor's face. "An inquisitive mind. I can respect that. Very well, I am Augustus Constantin of the Emperor's Holy Inquisition and this is my team," Constantin said, as he swept his hand in gesture at the others gathered in the room. Varlas gave them a curt nod and a half smile - a full smile would hurt too much.
"I am Varlas Caledan of House Caledan of Kelnaris," Varlas replied as he remembered.
Constantin chuckled, "I already knew, Varlas. To be honest I just wanted to see if you would tell me the truth."
Varlas thought he would be offended by the inquisitor's mind games but indeed he was somewhat impressed. Even when seeming sincere Constantin was always probing for deceit and heresy.
"You are aboard my ship, the Righteous Fury, in the medicae centre." Constantin said, looking at a chart that had been attached to the end of Varlas's cot. "It says here that you should be fine by tomorrow; you heal fast. Although we did find something strange in your DNA analysis. I'd like to discuss it with you tomorrow after Karla puts you through some physical aptitude tests," Constantin said. Varlas's blood ran cold as he realised that the inquisitor knew of his heritage and what it might mean for his future.
The next day, ship time, Varlas rose from his bed shakily. The curtain around his bed was drawn shut, obscuring his sight of the rest of the medicae bay. The air was cold, stuffy and recycled. At the end of his bed he found his clothes folded neatly. The scars of battle were still visible but they were still wearable. Varlas stood slowly, careful not to over stretch himself. He was half dressed when he felt eyes on him somehow Karla had come in through the curtain without him noticing.
Hive World Terra