Work Text:
In the gloomy depths of the librarium archive levels, a lone woman sat reading scrolls by candlelight. She knew she shouldn't be here, indulging in private interests. She should be on the higher levels, overseeing the hundred menial, critical tasks of a Chapter audit. She should be doing her job.
The woman glanced at her chronometer. By now her acolytes would have reviewed the Chapter's intake records and have begun auditing the gene banks in the Apothecarion. She would have to check on them soon. Astartes were understandably protective of the Chapter's gene-seed, of its future. Misunderstandings and even violence, were not uncommon in her work. And this Chapter, the Red Talons, were particularly hot blooded. She, an Inquisitor of the Ordo Astartes, should be present to help keep things in order.
Instead she was here in the archives. The Red Talons ancient beyond measure, a second founding Chapter, direct decedents of the Iron Hands Legion. They had occupied their home world of Raikan and its fortress monastery since their founding, and the structure was both enormous and packed with records. Its lower levels extended half a kilometer below the crust, while its highest towers loomed over the peaks of the equatorial mountains. It's archive was bigger than three bulk haulers, stuffed with old texts found nowhere else in the galaxy. Getting to view such works was the benefit to auditing Astartes Chapters. Inquisitor Tome relished the opportunity to read them, to have the chance at discovering hidden truths and secrets.
She had already found several important texts for her scribes to replicate. Stacked up on the table next to her were ledgers of combat reports from the 5th Black Crusade, a trio of scrolls detailing novel xenos species, and a brief, thousand page history of the Chapter's actions during The Scouring. They were all treasures in their own right, but Tome had the feeling there was something else down here. She could feel its presence at the edge of her mind, whispering of secret truths, prying at her psychic senses.
She resolved to take one last trip into the stack. After that she could head to the Apothecarion.
Inquisitor tome wasn't a powerful psyker, a Theta grade at best, but her psychic talents were laser focused on a discipline that benefited her work, that of psychometry.
She leaned on that power now. She wandered the archive stacks, allowing the psychic residue accumulated in the texts to flow over her. They were reach with emotions, which she experienced as smells. The air was heavy with the salt air smell of devotion, the woody odor of boredom, and the pervasive hot metal scent of aggression. These were the Adeptus Astartes after all, their records were records of never ending war.
It was through that mix of smells, in front of a scroll rack, that she picked up one something different. From one shelf flowed the scent of turned earth. She had attuned herself to that scent, the smell of secrets.
Reaching the shelf in question required balancing on some hastily stacked storage crates. But she managed to extract a heavy book without falling or knocking too many scrolls down. She brought it back to where she had been sitting to examine it in the light.
The book was oversized for her hands, clearly sized for an Astartes. The dark cover wasn't leather, or wood but plates of iron, embossed with a segmented gauntlet. It felt heavy in her hands, and ancient to her psychic senses. She set it on the table and opened the cover, reading the archaic high gothic of the books title with ease.
"Action Record of Sergeant Vorenat, Seventh Squad, Clan Company Morragul, Iron Hands Legion, 835-837.M30"
Below the title was a list of names and dates, the marks of scribes who had copied the work over the years. The last entry was dated 635.M40, nearly five hundred years ago.
Inquisitor Tome began to carefully turn the pages and read the action records. As works of this sort went, the text was straightforward. Each entry listed the action, its commencement, and outcome. A few had more details than others, and some were just a sentence or two.
A smile crept across her face as she read, taking in the details of ancient battles from the days of the Great Crusade. Here were records of a time of glory and triumph, far removed from this time of decay and horror. Hope radiated from the pages.
A third of the way into the book she stopped, disbelieving what she had just read. The passage before her was broken, with several words missing most of their letters. They looked like they had been scratched out, though what was left had been faithfully copied down the centuries. She read the passage again, to make sure she wasn't seeing things.
"Responded to call for assistance from the planet Lethe. Regiment of auxilia, the 91st "Ash Scorpions" are under attack by _______ raiders. Eager to bring battle to these slithering, perfidious xenos, we departed at full speed. Arriving in system, we found other ___sta___s, present. The 5th Chapter of the Sec___ Le____n has also answered the call for aid. So be it. Hopefully the sons of _____r____s___ can keep up with our fervor. For the Emperor and the Primarch, we will show our cousins how the Iron Hands wage war."
She wasn't seeing things. The work she held was valuable beyond measure. Records even mentioning the lost Legions were near mythical. But here one was, complete with details, with dates and names. This was a trail she could follow, but later, after she left Raikan. Her work came before all else.
Inquisitor Tome quickly gathered up the other works and departed the archive. Emperor willing, she'd be able to get the book home and properly study it. But, given what she was holding, the Emperor probably wasn't eager to help her this time.