Chapter 113: Wolves at the Door (Patreon)

"Sir, the other vessel is requesting a visual communication link. Should we accept it?" the captain asked cautiously, his voice breaking the tense silence on the bridge.

Herbert's mind raced.

Accept the call? If the Space Wolves confirmed he was an Inquisitor, would they simply board his ship under the pretense of an inspection—or skip the pretense altogether?

Refuse? That was no better. The Space Wolves were nothing if not persistent. Their strike cruiser vastly outgunned his vessel, and rejecting their request would almost certainly be interpreted as hostility.

After several agonizing seconds, Herbert finally unclenched his jaw.

"...Connect them."

The signal linked.

The moment both bridges appeared on the display, a chorus of rough laughter erupted from the Space Wolves' side.

"I told you, Brother Knor! It's an Inquisitor!"

"Hah! I could smell the stench of the Inquisition through the void!"

"Looks like I win. That's an extra helping of roast tonight!"

Heat flared in Herbert's chest.

They had made a wager over his identity?

These uncouth barbarians showed not the slightest hint of respect.

Drawing a slow breath, he forced his anger beneath a mask of icy professionalism.

"I am Inquisitor Herbert Hernampode of the Ordo Malleus," he said evenly. "I would appreciate an explanation as to why you intercepted my vessel."

"Hernampode."

The Space Wolf cut him off before he could finish.

The scarred, heavily bearded warrior leaned toward the pict screen, his piercing eyes seeming to look straight through it.

"What are you doing out here, skulking around?"

"I am not skulking," Herbert replied, each word carefully measured. "Every action I take is carried out beneath the glorious light of the God-Emperor. Furthermore, before questioning someone, the civilized thing to do is introduce yourself."

The warrior snorted.

"Heh."

Without the slightest concern for decorum, he spat off to one side.

"Krona Longfang."

He paused, a predatory gleam entering his eyes.

"There. Introduced myself. Polite enough for you?" His grin widened into something unmistakably provocative. "So... why don't you invite us aboard for a friendly visit?"

"Absolutely not."

The answer burst from Herbert before he could stop himself.

Invite a pack of Space Wolves onto his ship?

He would likely be found dead in his quarters before morning, officially recorded as having been "accidentally" bisected by a chainsword.

Krona's scarred face split into an amused smile.

"'Absolutely not,' eh?"

He repeated the words slowly, savoring them.

"That's not very polite, Hernampode."

His eyes narrowed.

"Or is there something aboard your ship you don't want us to see?"

"That accusation is completely baseless!"

Herbert's composure cracked.

"To imply that a loyal servant of the Emperor may be corrupted is an extraordinarily serious allegation. I have destroyed countless cult cells and safeguarded dozens of Imperial worlds in His name."

"Alright, alright."

Krona waved a dismissive hand, cutting him off once again.

Looking thoroughly bored, the Space Wolf casually stuck a finger into his nose, as though Herbert's impassioned defense amounted to little more than background noise.

"So," he said while continuing his undignified task, "what exactly are you doing out here, skulking around?"

Oddly enough, the repeated question cooled Herbert's anger instead of inflaming it.

His emotions settled.

He was an Inquisitor.

Losing control accomplished nothing.

"I am bound for Perditia," he replied, his voice once again calm and controlled. "The planet was once one of this sector's principal tithe worlds, but it has been isolated from the Imperium for the past thirty years. My mission is to restore Imperial authority and investigate any signs of rebellion."

He allowed himself the faintest pause.

"Unlike some people, I have actual duties to perform."

The barb was subtle but unmistakable.

Krona caught it immediately.

Instead of taking offense, he threw back his head and laughed.

"Hahaha! Fair enough, Mister Hernampode. Sounds like you're a busy man."

"I am."

Herbert's expression remained perfectly impassive.

"If that concludes your business, I would appreciate it if you cleared my course."

"No."

The laughter vanished instantly.

Krona's playful demeanor hardened into something immovable.

He flicked away whatever had been on his finger and fixed Herbert with the unwavering gaze of a hunting wolf.

"We've suddenly found ourselves with business of our own."

He leaned forward.

"We're heading to Perditia as well."

A faint smile tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"To suppress any rebellion—or xenos infestation—we happen to find."

Herbert's heart sank.

He understood immediately.

The Space Wolves had no intention of letting him out of their sight.

Perhaps they could not openly act against an Inquisitor while Imperial Navy patrols still watched the surrounding space. But once they reached Perditia—a world isolated for three decades, far from the scrutiny of Imperial authority—the situation would become far more... flexible.

For a fleeting moment, Herbert wondered whether things would have been different had he belonged to the Ordo Hereticus or the Ordo Xenos instead of the Ordo Malleus.

The Ordo Malleus hunted the Imperium's oldest and most terrifying enemy: the daemons of the Warp.

Its work demanded constant suspicion, intimate knowledge of forbidden truths, and an unwavering willingness to do what others feared.

To much of the Imperium, that made the Ordo Malleus both indispensable and deeply unsettling.

As for the Space Wolves...

Their hostility toward the Ordo Malleus had never truly faded after the Month of Shame.

Even so, Herbert had never regretted his choice.

Someone had to stand between humanity and Chaos.

Whether the rest of the Imperium admired that duty—or despised it—was ultimately irrelevant.

"Very well," Herbert said at last.

"I have no objection to additional Imperial forces participating in the Perditia operation."

His eyes narrowed slightly.

"Even so, I cannot help but think your Chapter's resources would be better spent responding to worlds facing confirmed, large-scale rebellions."