The Wonderful Misadventures of: Inquisitor Fob and the Classy Marines

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Small Book.pngThe following article is a /tg/ related story or fanfic. Should you continue, expect to find tl;dr and an occasional amount of awesome.

The adventures of the bumbling Inquisitor Fob and his retinue of Classy Marines, as told by a writefag.

Classy Marines are an Ultramarines descendant chapter. What, you thought they were similarly prissy by coincidence?

Monocles make everything better.


The Wonderful Misadventures of Inquisitor Fob and the Classy Marines, Part 1[edit]

"I declare, I do believe these guardsmen are shooting at us!" Inquisitor Fob yelled over the sound of the Classy Marine's flintlock bolters, as he and Brother Captain Houston ducked another volley from the heretical Guardsmens' lasrifles.

"Indeed they are, sir," Brother Captain Houston responded as he let loose a few shots, decapitating a batch of traitor guardsmen. "Some would even say it's quite heretical, sir," Brother Captain Houston continued, hoping the Inquisitor would get the hint as he politely pushed Fob's head down under the make shift barricade as another round of lasfire came in.

"Oh no, I'm quite sure it's just a misunderstanding. I'm positive we can talk it out. Lots of supposed Chaos activity in this area; they see a bunch of heavily armed lads walking on, you know how it is." Fob turned to stand. "I say!" he yelled as he began to walk towards the traitor guardsmen.

Brother Captain Houston sighed. It wasn't that Fob was a bad man. He was just a bit light in the head he thought as he broke cover to protect his employer.

"I say!" Fob repeated, as he once again tried to gather the guardsmen's attention, just as Brother Captain Houston took hold of a metal top hat he kept hanging over his waist. He filled the top hat full of frag and krak grenades, pressed a button to close the now bomb-filled hat, and the threw it like a discus at a group of guardsmen that were getting ready to blow Fob to bits. The top hat stuck into a nearby wall and shortly exploded, sending the traitor guardsmen to wherever it is that heretics like them went.

"You know, I really just don't think I'm getting through to these people," Fob continued on, completely unaware of the surrounding danger. "I don't suppose you could do anything to help me? It is your job, after all."

"Right, sir. Getting right on it, sir. Men, with me if you please." Brother Captain Houston said as he and several other Classy Marines stormed the traitor lines, using their power sabers to cut a bloody swath. He then got to what seemed to be the biggest and most ornate looking traitor, picked the man up by his blood-encrusted collar and said "The Inquisitor would like a word with you," and began dragging him back to Fob.

"Right," Fob began, trying to get his bearings as Houston dropped the quivering man in front of him.

"I'd like to discuss this whole shooting-at-us business. Now don't get me wrong, I understand. What with rumors of a chaos insurrection being planned, and Ork raids, and all that business, I can see how you're more than apt to go a little heavy on the trigger, but! you'll be happy to know that we are not with the traitorous forces of Chaos, are not Orks, and are in fact here to bring the Emperor's Holy Light to this desolate and isolated planet. So, if you would just tell your men to stop shooting at us..." Fob stopped. He was staring at the multi-pointed star that had been engraved on the man's forehead.

"Oh dear. You, you just...sit tight while I try and I discuss something with the Brother Captain here, alright?" Fob continued as he walked a little away and waved Houston over.

"I must say, I believe these men are the people we're looking for!" Fob confided, as the Guardsman commander very quickly began trying to gain control of his charges and get them to stop shooting.

"Indeed, sir," Brother Captain Houston said flatly. He had found it a good voice to use around the Inquisitor. As I said, he knew the man wasn't bad, just a bit daft.

"Oh indeed, Brother Captain! I'm an Inquisitor after all. We have a sixth sense about these things. What do you think we should do?" Fob continued, completely immune to sarcasm. His mind was like a freight train. It knew where it wanted to go, and damn-all if such little things like "facts" were going to try and get in the way.

"Would you like us to capture them for you, sir?" Brother Captain Houston said as he watched the traitor lines with interest. Someone was pushing their way to the front and they held a large staff covered in symbols that were best not looked at directly.

"Do you think we should?" Fob asked, unaware as the heretical leader pushed his way to the front, hatred burning bright in his eyes.

"May the Four Gods feast upon your bones!" The staff-wielder yelled, pointing menacingly at the Inquisitor.

"Excuse me?" Fob responded, his train of thought being momentarily rerouted. This was another thing which had always interested the Brother Captain: that the Inquisitor's daftness tended to be both his sword and his shield. He was almost completely immune to the seductions of Chaos, if only because he most likely didn't know he was being seduced.

"I have seen the light!" the staff-wielder continued, "And I know that your pitiful Imperium of Man shall not stand! For when Khorne finally runs out of skulls to collect, and Tzeentch screams in anger as all his plans come unraveled, only Father Nurgle and Mother Slaanesh shall reign triumphant, dancing in the ruin of all things, enjoying the last feelings of all things as they..." and so forth.

"Oh my," Fob said as the staff-wielder continued his speech. "I fear this may be getting very ugly soon. Is there anything you can do?"

"Gladly," Houston responded as he held up his flintlock bolter pistol and fired a single shot into the staff-wielder's head. It exploded.

While the remaining heretics either ran away or were shot down by the Classy Marines, Fob just seemed startled. "Oh my," he said. "Now look what you’ve done. They're all running away and scattering. Now we're going to have to burn the entire city down. I do so hate doing things like that, you know,"

"I know, sir, I know," Houston said, not entirely unkindly, as he led Fob back to the Thunderhawk. They were going to have a long day ahead of them.

+ The Wonderful Misadventures of Inquisitor Fob and the Classy Marines, Part 1; End +