Chapter I

Insertion

Disclaimer: I don't own 40k or Pokemon.

Author's note: No one has ever really done a good crossover of this.
The only complete one is about a pack of 40k's version of Sues\Stus.
Plus, they were looking in entirely the wrong place for a faction that would've worked.
Hence, the Inquisition is going to have a gander at this world, forbidden to all by the Emperor himself, at the start of the Great Crusade…
So, give it a try before you condemn it.

'If it hadn't been for that sensor contact that has popping up randomly for the past three years, which you insist is a rogue trader, your ship would be a wreck right now Inquisitor; this system is under stringent quarantine, and even the Xenos and heretics avoid this place, and through nothing to do with us either.' Said Captain Oberin Typhon, an Astartes of the Vigilants chapter, who's responsibility since before the Heresy was the quarantine of the system.

Typhon himself was apparently descended from the gene-stock of the Death Guard, though like all the Astartes on the Guardian-pattern space stations that surrounded the system, they'd remained loyal throughout the Heresy to their duty to keeping the system from being accessed, and was the one place in the galaxy loyalist Death Guard, Emperor's Children, Luna Wolves, Iron Warriors and Alpha Legion could still be found.

'I realise that Captain, but the fact this rogue trader has been getting through your blockade so long doesn't bode well, and from my previous experiences with the artefacts and the like that the cults I've been persecuting, along with documentation all points to things coming from this system, and there's word that Hive Fleet Leviathan is heading this way as well.' Replied Inquisitor Rogal Flanagan patiently, running his fingers through his black hair.

Typhon let out a bark of laughter at this.

'Those bugs can try for the Death-World in this system if they want; the inhabitants cost the Emperor two of his sons, and when the Emperor ordered exterminatus, some of the damn things proved to be as much of a danger to the ships engaging in the business as ground-to-orbit defence batteries and a helluva lot more manoeuvrable to boot, I honestly believe that if these 'tyranids' came here, they'd end up wiped out.' He said.
Rogal paused.

'The inhabitants of the planet you're quarantining are that powerful?'
Typhon shrugged.
'I've never been down there to enquire, only that mad bastard Brø m Blackpelt has ever been down there, and he's mum on what he encountered before we picked him up off the top of a mountain; riskiest frakking operation we ever did.' He replied.
Rogal nodded.
'I want him on my retinue Captain.' He said.
'You aren't seriously thinking of going down there are you?' Typhon said in astonishment.
Rogal looked up at the eight-foot giant in his black power-plate.
'No choice captain; I've lost several good men already on this hunt, for their sakes I'm seeing this business through.' With that, Rogal walked off, his great coat swishing behind him, and his combat boots clicking softly against the plas-steel floor.

Rogal looked around the hold of the Valkyrie transporter they were taking to the surface and caught the golden eyes of the wolf scout, Brøm Blackpelt.
'Something bothering you Inquisitor?' Asked the Astartes.
Rogal didn't react immediately.
'If this place is so dangerous, why're we going down in civilian garb, with nothing but training rounds in our weapons?' He asked, gesturing to his drastically altered attire.
His combat boots and great coat were still present, but his usual carapace plate and power-sword were absent, along with his bolt pistol.
Instead he had a Hecutor-10 in a concealed holster in the lining of his coat and a power-knife concealed across his back.

'We went over this Inquisitor,' replied Brø m tersely, 'the indigenous population of humans live in harmony with the Xenos native to this world; the Xenos on this world are fiercely hostile to anything they perceive as threatening; I dumped my equipment after my third encounter with the same walking tree, and after that all I got were odd looks for being eight foot tall and wary looks from the Xenos.' He explained. 'Hence, civilian garb, training rounds,- for self-defence only, and live ammo for when we track these heretics to ground; If my weapons cache is still intact we might be able to salvage something from there, but for now let's just focus on trying to get to the surface without being blown out the sky by something that doesn't like the look of us.'
'And what're the odds of that?' Asked Heldane Gaul, a bounty hunter who'd been with Rogal for nearly twenty years.
'Pretty good if one in particular happens to be up in the stratosphere, but if we can drop quickly, we shouldn't have any trouble.' Brøm replied grimly.
Heldane shot a long-suffering look at the blood-hawk that sat patiently on his shoulder, which it returned with an equally long-suffering look in it's semi-sentient gaze.

'Great, first the 'stealers on Regis Prime, now super-powered Xenos that no-one really knows shit about.' This was Epithet Nadia, Rogal's interrogator, and a pessimistic drama queen, along with a Gamma-level psyker.
'Shut it Epithet.' This last drew a suspicious look from Brøm.
He was a tall, lanky individual, with gaunt features and shabby clothes, as well as a slightly bored appearance.
'Mordekai, can't you please assume an appearance that doesn't make you look like no-one looks out for you?' Asked Rogal tiredly.
The gaunt man looked sideways at Rogal, then all features faded, until he was an indistinct, opaque figure, almost as if he wasn't there, revealed to be a dissembler.

+Alright ladies and gents, grab your grav-chutes and get ready to drop.+ Came the pilot's voice over the intercom.
Rogal stood as his restraining harness snapped open, and pulled on a rebreather, along with the other non-augmented members of his retinue.
Then, one after the other, following Brø m's lead, they jumped out the back of the Valkyrie, which promptly went vertical and hit the afterburners, eager to get away from the planet.

Rogal relaxed as he felt the wind whipping through his hair, and as they got closer to the ground.
+Mark!+ Called Brøm, and they all activated their grav-chutes, the suspensor lifts powering up after a second and projecting anti-gravity to slow their wearers' descent.
The five of them hit the ground boots first, and deactivated their grav-chutes.
The four who hadn't visited that particular planet before looked around with interest.

'The way you made this place out to be marine, I was expecting perfectly-evolved alien killing machines to be on us the moment we set down.' Commented Mordekai, invisible in the dark of the night.
Brøm chuckled nastily.
'Not quite, but they're dangerous in their own ways, and remember: on this planet looks are almost always misleading; unless the thing you're looking at happens to resemble the love-child of a saurid and a Carnifex, in which case it is exactly as it looks and it's advisable to run the frak away.' He replied.

A peculiar sounding crark, made the group spin towards the noise, and Brø m to level his training-round loaded bolt pistol at the source of the noise.
What appeared to be a blue-black bird, with a wing span as wide as an eagle's and an incongruously sized beak gazed at them imperiously.
'Gaul?' Said Rogal tightly.
'Corvus? Against something from this place?' Asked the bounty hunter in askance, stroking the blood-hawk for reassurance. 'No way Rogal.' He said.
Brøm holstered his pistol again.
'False alarm; these ones generally prefer to keep to themselves, don't piss it off and we shouldn't have any trouble.' He said, then after consulting an auspex, motioned for the group to follow him, as they set off into the forest from the clearing they'd fallen into.

The black bird looked them over with intelligent eyes, before with another peculiar cry, it flitted from the branch it'd been resting on, and landed on Rogal's shoulder.
The inquisitor went deathly still.
Crark. The bird cried, before peering curiously at the inquisitor, who looked the xenos-bird in it's eyes unflinchingly.

'Brøm…?' Mouthed Rogal noiselessly.
The wolf scout gave the inquisitor a peculiar look.
'I think you've made a friend inquisitor.' Commented the grizzled marine.

Rogal pulled out his Hecutor-10 and disabled the safety.
A few moments later, a creature resembling a small horse with a mane and tail of fire ambled out of the woods.
Rogal felt chills go through him as he saw it; surely such a creature was dangerous?

He glanced to the tree behind which Brøm was hiding behind.
The wolf scout shook his head, and motioned for Rogal to put his gun away.

'Ponyta!' At the sound of the voice, Rogal whipped back around, and saw a boy, scarcely older than seventeen, come out of the woods from the same direction the fire-horse had.
'Why'd you wander off? You know you shouldn't do that.' Admonished the young man, who Rogal was finding it hard to distinguish in the dark, due to his dark-coloured clothing.

To Rogal's astonishment, the horse seemed to look abashed.

The boy's stance softened.
'Come on, let's get back to the camp before Bagon starts eyeing your dinner.' He said.
At the mention of food, the black bird, still perching on Rogal's shoulder let loose an eager squawk.
The boy whipped around, an excited look on his face, before fumbling at his belt for what appeared at first glance to be an auspex device.
+Murkrow. The Darkness Pokémon. It is said that when chased, it lures it attacker onto dark mountain trails where the foe will get lost.+ A mechanical-sounding female voice recited.

Obviously galvanised on a course of action, the boy strode smartly over, and wrenched the bush Rogal was hiding in aside, and found himself staring down the barrel of Rogal's gun.
'Hecutor-10.' Said Rogal conversationally. 'Solid-shot hand-cannon. Most powerful side-arm legally possessible to civilians under Imperial law.' He added. 'You probably don't want to know what sort of mess one of its rounds can make.'

I have no sense of self-control when it comes to ideas for stories.

They either get filed away to ferment for ages,-like this one has,- or they get written down nearly instantly like Guardsman did.

This was posted at the request of Hideout Writer, and will not, repeat: will NOT be seeing regular updates.