Extra Large Heresy: The Reboot, Episode 2

“Where did you come from?” Inquisitor Virtanen asked quietly.

The interior lights, which had been darkened for the night, were now on their brightest setting to disorient the xeno prisoner. She lay curled up on herself, still shivering and naked, on the bare metal floor where he had left her hours ago. The chains that wrapped all around her body no doubt forced the issue, but the fact that Macha hadn't moved at all so far struck him as a bad sign.

The Inquisitor sat silently in his chair for several long seconds before speaking again. “This isn't working, is it?”

Virtanen lifted a small tablet, looking at the screen with a frown: in green letters was a message from his adjutant and only companion aboard the Essence of Purity.

>You could always offer her a deal
>LP

The man sighed and rubbed his temples before tapping out a reply.

>Didn't want to start there, but you may be right
>LV

Setting the device aside, the Inquisitor took a step that caught Macha's attention: he tucked one leg in, pushed his cloak out of the way, and sat on the floor next to her. Ceramite plates clinked dully against the metal decking, and an itchy layer of fabric fell about her body: the man had thrown his own cloak over her.

She clutched it lightly with her fingertips, pulling it tighter around herself. Her shivering slowed, and the chains slithered and slid under the cloak as the Eldar beneath it shifted positions to try and get some of its length between herself and the floor.

“You were floating in the void, by yourself,” Virtanen continued in a low voice. “Your vector traced back to a system where I was ordered to deliver Exterminatus. I want to know how you got there.”

Macha remained silent for a few moments longer. “That world... it was in the Lorn system?”

“It was. Mine was the only vessel in the sector capable of the job.”

“I was there,” Macha replied. “I fought alongside the Blood Ravens chapter against the Necrons... for a time.”

“So how did you end up drifting in the void this far out?” Virtanen pressed. “You were three star systems over from Lorn.”

Macha merely shook her head under the cloak.

“I could make things more uncomfortable for you,” Virtanen threatened vaguely. “But I would prefer to have your cooperation. Petrichenko? Please lower the lights to sixty per cent.”

After a second or so, the lights in the room began to slowly dim, to a little more than half their former brightness. From under the cloak emerged a crown of red hair and two pointed ears, followed shortly afterward by the rest of Macha's face, which Virtanen could now see bore a set of long, curving slashmarks tattooed into her cheeks in red. Her emerald green eyes blinked tentatively as she stared at the Inquisitor.

“Better?” he asked.

The Farseer nodded. “Indeed.”

“I've given you something,” Virtanen explained. “So please tell me, what happened at Lorn?”

“We lost,” she said simply, withdrawing slightly beneath the cloak. “I remember little else but the anger after losing my ship, then the fear of drifting through interstellar space alone.”

“Well that's just not helpful.” Virtanen scratched absent-mindedly at his hair. “Sure that's all you know?”

“I am.”

After several moments, the Farseer spoke up again. “May I ask you something in return?”

The Inquisitor shrugged. “I'll allow it. No guarantee I'll respond, but go ahead and ask.”

“This ship belongs to the Ordo Excorium?”

“That's correct,” Virtanen replied nonchalantly. “To preempt your next question yes, this ship is designed to carry out planetary bombardment in a variety of possible ways. No, I won't tell you our exact loadout or about any tech we're using.”

Macha nodded quietly, seemingly digesting the information. “What are the chances of my escape, or of capturing the vessel?”

“Shouldn't you know that already?” the Inquisitor countered.

The Eldar countered quickly. “Not necessarily, and I asked you first.”

“And I'm the one in control here,” he reminded her. “That means my question gets answered first.”

“I cannot see all ends,” Macha replied. “Sometimes the future is so uncertain even I can see nothing of it.”

“And this is one of those times?”

Macha nodded. “It would seem so. And as for my question?”

“Nil. The ship itself only allows you to live because I've ordered it,” he explained cryptically. “If I die unexpectedly, it's set to cook off our whole arsenal. And you do NOT want to be here if that happens.”

“It seems you thought of everything,” she frowned. “So why the chains?”

“I had my reasons,” Virtanen replied. “But you've probably got a point. Hold still.”

Reaching down, the Inquisitor threw his cloak off of her and loosened the chains one at a time. Each length clanked loudly to the floor plating, allowing Macha to stand for the first time in days. Virtanen refastened his own cloak before pushing the Eldar towards the exit.

“Lydia, please bring the Farseer's tabard, and meet me in section nine. I'm gonna let her stretch her legs a bit.”

His eyes glanced at Macha's legs as she passed him into a dimly lit corridor, hobbled slightly due to the chains still binding her ankles. If there was any pity to be found there, the Inquisitor was dead set on not showing it.

After guiding the Eldar down a long and straight passage, with evenly spaced and identical hatches on either side, the Inquisitor finally guided her through one of them. Inside, the ship's furnishings shifted abruptly from spartan to lavish: hardwood floors of deep, rich shades of red and brown, smooth walls painted in a warm shade of tan, and intricately worked upholstery in red and gold.

The Inquisitor noticed Macha's apparent surprise at the sudden change. “These are my private quarters,” he explained. “So behave yourself while you're here or it's back to the storage locker.”

Macha nodded quietly. “Your home, your rules.”

Not long after, the small, feline-eared young woman joined them, with Macha's green tabard hung neatly over her arm. “I washed it,” Lydia announced, “as you requested. Anything else?”

“Yeah, actually,” the Inquisitor replied. “You can help me get cleaned up.”

“Need me to wash your back or something?” Lydia teased with a cheeky grin. “I thought you were old enough to manage by yourself.”

Much to Macha's surprise, Virtanen didn't rebuke her for the insubordinate attitude. “Oh, don't get me wrong,” he shot back, “I could manage cleaning up just fine. But there are other things I'll need your 'help' with.”

“Oh? And how exactly can I 'help' you?” she replied with a sidelong glance as she sauntered past the Inquisitor, her tail swishing in her wake. “And what do I get for a reward?”

Virtanen laughed. “Actually, I really do need your help. I need a shower, and I don't want to let the xeno out of my sight. So I need her to be in the room with me, and I need someone else to keep the pistol on her.”

Macha's slender, red eyebrows arched in surprise. “Honestly? You're going to make me watch you bathe yourself?”

“I'd enjoy the show at least,” Lydia replied. “Fine. Pass me your pistol.”

Virtanen quietly pulled a bolt pistol from a holster at his right hip: beautifully crafted, with a red anodized coat and elegantly designed etchings filled with gold wire. After quickly checking the chamber, he passed the weapon into Lydia's waiting hands.

“Alright,” he announced, his hands going to work unclasping the plates of his armor. “No need to take this kit in with me.”

“What are you...” Macha began in frustration as the human set aside the various components of his protective suit. “Why are you stripping?”

He shrugged his way out of the gel-padded undersuit and tossed it over the back of a chair as he made his way back towards a side room, exposing both firm, toned muscles and a series of burn scars and lacerations. “Because I'm showering?” he asked incredulously. “Don't you xenos ever bathe?”

“We do,” Macha insisted hotly. “Just not with strangers present.”

“Then consider this a cultural experience,” he shot back over his shoulder.

With the muzzle of a bolt pistol trained at her back, Macha had no choice but to follow the strange human into what she correctly guessed was a bathroom. Inside were tile floors, warmed gently from below, a polished countertop of granitic stone resting upon a series of cabinets with two ceramic basins for washing, and a glass stall with a metal head and various cleansing fluids.

“I won't be too long,” Virtanen insisted, turning to address Lydia.

Macha, however, was staring straight at his groin, eyes oddly widened as if in disbelief. She had the look of a girl who had never seen a penis before.

“Don't Eldar have dicks?” he joked, turning his attention back to the shower. “Or have you just never seen one?”

“I haven... I mean, they do,” Macha replied hastily. “We do. Yours is just... are all human males so... endowed?”

Lydia snickered to herself. “Oh, you think it's big NOW?”

“It gets bigger?”

The feline-eared woman nodded deviously. “I'd offer to demonstrate if I weren't supposed to be guarding you. But it gets about...” Lydia paused briefly, holding her fingers a ways apart. “Bout that long, more or less.”

Macha was incredulous. “That... is half again what an Eldar would consider a blessing!”

“Well,” Virtanen mused to himself as he started the water running, “the human penis IS large, for a mammal our size. Makes sense Eldar just wouldn't pack as much.”

“You're telling me that's normal?” Macha's eyes widened. “This isn't some curse from She who Thirsts?”

“Granted, it's comfortably in the top ten per cent. But they come plenty bigger than this.”

After lathering and rinsing, Virtanen wrapped a towel around his waist and retrieved his pistol from his felinid adjutant with a quick word of thanks. “Your turn, Farseer,” he told her, sitting on a little stool on the floor and motioning with his pistol. “Get clean and get out as... Lydia, what're you up to?”

“Having some fun while I wait,” she explained simply. As Macha watched in confusion, the cat-eared woman began pawing playfully at the towel around the Inquisitor's waist.

Virtanen held her off with one hand, keeping the other wrapped tight around the grip of his weapon. “Really? Now's not a great time.”

Lydia ignored him, sliding the towel off onto the floor and wrapping her hand around the man's member. “Come on, sir,” she insisted. “You knew what you were signing up for when you brought me aboard, right? And the xeno is in chains, so it's not like she's going anywhere.”

“Well, yeah,” he replied quietly as Macha did her best to ignore what he and Lydia were doing.

“Just not how much of it I was signing up for,” he continued, “you're really not listening, are you?”

“I am,” the catgirl insisted in feigned pout. “You brought me in here and took your clothes off, what did you expect me to do?”

Sparing a glance at the two from the edge of the stall, Macha saw that Lydia hadn't been exaggerating: as she toyed with her superior's equipment, it grew in her hands far beyond what any Eldar would expect. There was something about the way she kissed and caressed his length before eagerly wrapping her lips around it that seemed so earnest, so heartfelt. The Inquisitor himself appeared torn, his hand resting on Lydia's head as it bobbed gently between his legs even as he frowned at her forwardness. Then he looked up for a moment, before waving curtly at the Eldar.

“Get a move on,” he muttered.

The hot water produced a long, contented sigh from the Farseer as she disappeared into the steam-filled stall. By the time Macha had finished washing herself and her long, vibrantly red hair, the catgirl had finished the deed. She nuzzled gently into the Inquisitor's chest, and he had looped a muscular arm around her shoulders. Upon seeing the Eldar reemerge from her shower, he tossed her his towel.

“Dry off,” he ordered. “Then put your robes back on.”

“Or don't. That'd be more fun,” Lydia suggested playfully.

Macha frowned angrily at the notion, her face suddenly reddening. “Fun for whom? For an Eldar to mate with a human would be seen as bestiality!”

“Fun for you, of course,” Lydia offered playfully. “I could hear what you were doing in there...”

“I was washing!” Macha snapped. “That is all!”

Lydia turned to look at the Eldar, leaning back into Virtanen's chest and raising a skeptical eyebrow. “These ears of mine aren't just for show,” she explained, making her little feline ears flatten back for show. “So unless you spent fifteen minutes washing your twat because of some peculiarity to the Eldar twat that makes it harder to clean, I call bullshit.”

The Inquisitor merely shrugged as Macha's face turned so red it nearly matched the color of her tattoos. “Really not my business,” he sighed, his hand straying upward to scratch his ear. “Let's just get out of the bathroom, shall we? I've got more questions to ask you.”

Macha took a deep breath to regain her poise before nodding, and taking a few steps towards the bathroom door.

“Why are you still naked?” the Inquisitor asked, his eyes following the Eldar's steps.

“I should think that would be obvious,” she replied carefully. “I never said I would decline a little bestiality.”

Althoigh Lydia's ears perked up immediately it took several seconds of thought for Virtanen to catch up, his face slowly contorting with shock as he worked it out. “No!” he replied firmly. “I'm... just... no!”

“Awww,” Lydia cooed. “Come on, you do it with me all the time!”

“You're human!” Virtanen insisted. “It's not the same!”

The felinid shrugged, her tail gently rubbing against the Inquisitor's thigh. “Now, I think we both know that as far as anyone else is concerned that's not true. I'm an abhuman.”

“And she's a xeno!” the Inquisitor replied sharply. “Like I said, not the same even if I DID accept that you weren't human!”

Macha glared hard at Virtanen. “Yes, Inquisitor. I am a different species. I had thought you might be above that sort of bigotry.”

“Yeah? Well, maybe I'm not,” he shot back. “Maybe if your kind had shown us ANY consideration recently you'd have found me more tolerant.”

“We have tolerated many of your lesser transgressions for years,” Macha sneered defensively. “Doing so has been due to pure altruism on our part.”

“Really? And what would you call all the human lives you've taken over lumps of valueless rock?”

“Necessary,” the Eldar responded, though a trace of concern was visible in her eyes.

Lydia began to quietly slink away as Virtanen rounded on the Farseer. “If you're so damned great, where were you to stop the Necrons? Oh, wait, you were literally FUCKING THE FOURTH CHAOS GOD INTO EXISTENCE! Nice job, you idiots! We'll be wiping your crystal-encrusted asses on that one for the rest of my life and well after!”

“And how many Tomb Worlds have YOU destroyed!?” Macha countered, hands resting defiantly on her bare hips. “What have YOU been doing to remedy the situation!?”

“Eight!” Virtanen roared. “I've also done eleven greenskin worlds, seven of which still had humans on them!”

Macha seemed shocked. “You... destroyed worlds with your own people on them?”

“Yes,” the Inquisitor replied loudly, before his voice fell off again. “I did, several times. I was told it was... necessary.”

The honest tone of remorse and uncertainty caught Macha entirely off her guard. “How could that be necessary?”

“There are a lot of humans out there,” Virtanen replied. “It's easy to rationalize it away as a 'needs of the many' sort of thing. Kill one to save ten...”

“And kill millions to save the rest,” Macha finished. “It is a hard decision to make.”

Virtanen shook his head. “It's not a choice I ever make. It's not one I have a right to make. When it's not ordered by the Order, it's a judgment call based on the demands of the situation. What I want to do is normally irrelevant.”

“I have precious few choices as well.”

Lydia edged back towards her Inquisitor as Macha continued, sensing that the hostility had begun to dissipate. “Whenever a Farseer issues orders, it is because we feel them vital to the survival of our race, even if they seem cruel at the time. Our people look to us for guidance and counsel, but too often the best we can aim for is to cut our losses.”

“Maybe,” Lydia offered, “the two of you aren't as different as you thought?”

“Perhaps,” Macha admitted quietly.

“Now, say something nice about the Inquisitor,” Lydia continued in a nagging tone. Though the Farseer seemed put off at being treated like a child, she eventually acquiesced with a sigh.

“For a human, you're actually rather thoughtful, and I appreciate it.”

Lydia nodded with a beaming smile. “Good, now Leon? Say something nice about the Farseer.”

After giving his junior a look of disbelief, Virtanen cleared his throat. “I... actually feel like I may be able to trust you. Eventually. We won't be friends, at least not right away, but there's already some understanding there.”

“And you've got nice legs,” he muttered, half to himself.

For three whole seconds, the room was silent. “What did you say?” Macha pressed.

“Your legs. Smooth, long, and sexy in general,” Virtanen explained, apparently surprised he'd said that aloud. “They're nice.”

“Then why are you holding back?” Lydia mused aloud.

Virtanen shrugged. “Not quite sure why, but I'm tired of it.”

The Inquisitor quietly led his Eldar prisoner out of the room, then into a well-appointed bedroom. It was no doubt his own: there were papers strewn about the carved wooden desk in the corner, and a comfortable-looking leather chair. The bed itself was a four-poster with rich, red-colored wood carved deeply and intricately with vines and flowers across a hexagonal lattice. Macha took a moment to appreciate the craftsmanship as Lydia took a seat in the leather chair, spinning it to face the bed as if she were expecting something to happen there.

She wouldn't be disappointed.

From a locked drawer in the desk Virtanen produced a silvery-colored metallic object: an ornately decorated key. It fit perfectly into the locks that held Macha's chains, and soon the Inquisitor had freed her from her binds... mostly. While she was now free to move her limbs, the collar and the bands around her wrists and ankles that dulled her psyker abilities to the merest fraction of their true potential remained firmly in place.

“You were willing to debase yourself like this,” the Inquisitor reminded Macha quietly as he lay her back onto his bed. “Why? Why spread your legs for a human?”

The Eldar had no immediate reply, though she did ease her legs apart as if to welcome the still-unclothed Inquisitor. His fingers traced their length, from her toes across the arches of her feet, down her ankles and across the sides of her thighs, eliciting a soft sigh. Though they were pale and smooth as marble, Virtanen was a little surprised at how cool and firm the muscles there were: to the point they almost felt a little like marble as well.

“No Eldar has ever commented on my legs,” she finally replied, heels digging gently into the small of Virtanen's back, silently urging him closer. “Nor any other part of my body. No sane Craftworlder would dare approach a Farseer, and most humans find the Eldar too terrifying or too alien to admit any attraction.”

As she pulled the Inquisitor closer onto the bed, where he knelt above her, Macha continued her quiet tirade. “Guardsmen see me as terror and nightmare incarnate. Eldar see me as an untouchable and distant symbol of our will to survive, and the closest our dark kin ever come to romance is when they torture each other for fun. Astartes are too indoctrinated against the notion that I can be anything but an untrustworthy xeno witch, and the Tau are more obsessed with their roles in their “greater good” than I am in that of the Eldar... and then an Inquisitor plucks me from the void, strips me bare, and shows me something Eldar only ever see that size in novelty toys.”

“I want it,” she concludes breathily. “I shouldn't, but I do anyway. It may be my one chance at a semblance of normalcy.”

Virtanen's shaft throbbed almost painfully between them as he listened to her, before finally admitting; “I shouldn't want it either, but when you put it like that...”

The Inquisitor's hands found Macha's waist, letting himself ease deeper into the leglock as her hands fumbled blindly between his legs in search of his manhood. Her fingertips finally grazed it, allowing her to guide its path where she wanted – and NEEDED – it to go. Much to her surprise, however, Virtanen's lips found hers just as quickly, distracting her with a gesture of affection the normally-reserved and cautious Eldar only see in private, among lovers and spouses.

Her whole body tensed in surprise and confusion, before she gradually came to accept the fact that rather than the purely mechanical process she expected, this Inquisitor was truly making love with her. The intimacy of it all continued to distract her from her purpose, and rather than guiding his ceramite-hard member home her hands slowly began to stroke it in reciprocation. The warm, rough fingers of Virtanen's large hand caressed her tattooed cheek, sending a shiver down her spine all the way to where his other hand had found her delicate folds. He eased them apart, sliding readily into her dark, moist depths while his thumb slowly worked to expose and massage her clitoris. Macha's pale skin was raised into tiny bumps as she shivered again, flushed pink with a rapidly-mounting desire. She wanted more, and she got it.

A moan slipped from the Eldar's mouth as her human partner, perhaps now her 'lover', opened a new front in his assault on her body. His tongue traced a wet circle around her right nipple before his lips tightened around it, sucking and biting gently at her flesh. His unoccupied hand came to rest in Macha's voluminous red hair as her moans grew more urgent, and her own hands worked his shaft more frantically until finally his seed spilled across her wrist cuffs and onto her belly; warm and wet and sticky, and in volumes that amazed the Farseer when she finally spared a downward glance at herself.

“So much,” she observed breathlessly. “Is that... normal?”

“Yeah,” he replied, grinning. “It is. That was good, for a virgin.”

“I'll ignore that.”

Virtanen cocked his head as he noticed a look of frustration creeping into Macha's heavily-lidded eyes. “What's wrong?”

“I wasted my chance,” she moaned. “I made you cum before you even put it in.”

Lydia, whose hands strayed from her own body to her knees, leaned forward in her chair. “You mean Eldar can only go once? That's interesting, but kinda lame if you think about it.”

“Human males can cum multiple times in a row?” Macha asked excitedly. Sure enough, her hands found the Inquisitor's member still as hard as it was before. “Your species is so lewd... no wonder my sister favors you so! How many times can you do it?”

Virtanen grinned in spite of himself. “I've always wanted to find that out myself...”