Some hours later, as the Sentinels of Project Salvation stood in formation in preparation of their transfer to the Pillar of Penitence, The Alpha awaited with the Overseer as the Lord Mandragora approached from on high. The Conduit’s cold gaze shifted across the Stormtroopers before him. Each of these men and women had already given their lives for the service of the Imperium, it would be up to him when their souls were to be collected. A single eye, gently flickering as if fire scanned the Sentinels, expression matching only the still helmets each of them wore. They had once reminded him of an old martyr, fiery and zealous in their every action, eager to enact the Emperor’s will with hatred in their hearts. Now, they were as he, cold and silent in their purpose. Still the fires of zeal burned brightly in their souls, but the weaknesses of anger, sympathy and pain had long since been removed. Arms firmly crossed behind his back, The Alpha only broke from his unflinching pose at the approach of a figure all too familiar to him now, Lord Mandragora. He was the voice of reason within this corrupted, decaying Sector, the sole man the Conduit could trust in rallying the righteous and reclaiming all of Mandragora. A single breath escaped the Respirator contracted around the Psyker’s face, marking the first break of silence the Sentinels had experienced since their arrival. There was no bow nor formality of loyalty, the Lord knew Alpha, there was no need to prove loyalty with such petty acts of submission. “The Sentinels are prepared, Lord Mandragora,” a voice as unfeeling as the Conduit’s gaze, warped through a minor Vox signalled a true end to the void of sound. The Lord Mandragora nodded only ever so slightly to acknowledge the statement. The Sentinels were readied. The transports had been filled with the gear they, along side the detachments of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers, would need. The great cleansing of the sector would soon commence. “There is one more act I require of you,” The Lord Mandragora spoke, his voice synthesized into a dark and menacing and artificial voice. None knew the true sound of his voice - as his own office demanded sacrifice of his humanity, so too did his outward appearance reflect that. The Inquisitor Lord held a pict-projector in the palm of his hand. With his thumb he activated, illuminating a small rendition of the sector proper. “Konstantin’s death needs to be announced.” Alpha scanned the pict-recording as he pondered over Lord Mandragora’s words, his meaning was clear. A trait that earned no small amount of respect, the figure had a way with being direct when necessary, dispersing the faux-moral and bureaucratic natures that had plagued the sector for too long, the same weaknesses that had constrained his former Inquisitors. “The others will need convincing, they will not believe in the Arch-Heretek’s murder of Inquisitor Galbradi so easily, plagued by their conscience as they are.” The Alpha had come to believe that power, both political and personal, was a gift from the Emperor that required sacrifice on the bearer’s part. Morality and the luxury of freedom are nothing but flaws to those with responsibility, those who could not make this sacrifice did not deserve their station. It was all too unfortunate that many Inquisitors, heralds of the Holy Ordos themselves, also displayed these weaknesses in their denial of escalating the crusade. “They will be swayed to action one way or another,” The Lord Mandragora responded, clicking the device to begin a cycle through of other inquisitors. Their faces were burning illuminations that depicted men and women of the cloth that had devoted their lives to the Ordos Mandragora. “The fires of vengeance will be sowed with these Inquisitors. They are those that supported Konstantin’s crusade against Inquisitor Mengsk. Their hatred is a tool that can be used...to sway the others from their cradles of idleness.” “I understand,” a flicker of emotion appeared from within The Alpha before being subdued, once again he was reminded of a previous life. Hatred, zeal, these men and women had devoted themselves to a mindset of fanaticism, a somewhat useful state of mind, and yet… Nothing, his mind refused permission to travel the train of thought any further, returning to the task at hand with the same static demeanour as it was designed for. “Whether Silas lives or dies, this operation will mark the final step in the death of the Black Run, and the first step to a new, better Mandragora.” The Lord Mandragora clicked the device one last time. The face of Silas appeared, in his inquisitorial garb at his shoulders. The sigils of the Inquisition falsely displayed upon his person. “This will cleanse the sector. The Black Run falling was inevitable. No, this is about something greater. This is about cleansing the Ordos themselves. In one fell swoop, the Ordos shall become of one mind, one goal, one destiny. All thanks to the war the heretek has so eagerly ignited. Ensure that his name spreads far and wide. ‘Silas Mandragor’, the false Inquisitor, who started the uprisings across the sector. The betrayer will be held accountable, and all those who ever held sympathy for the lost and the damned.” “ So sayeth Salvation,” the voice of The Alpha rang out, the heart and soul of the Sentinels responding in kind. “Salvation through Absolution, Absolution through death,” The Lord Mandragora ordered, before turning to leave.
