Falsa Verum Chapter 9
Something squelched under his boot, a soft and glistening bit of congealed refuse that had laid here for who knows how long. It splashed up his boot and onto his greaves, marring the subtle colours and staining the eldritch symbols. It smelt bad too; a festering odour of something so malignant that even mutants wouldn't eat it. Beta fought the urge to snarl as he followed the mutant gang. He was letting them lead him back to their home, where he planned to regroup and take stock, though he was careful to keep all of them in his line sight at all times. It was a basic habit for the Alpha Legionnaire, so ingrained he didn't even think about it. Actually the mutants presented no real threat to him, he would have killed them on sight if they did. One look had told him that they possessed no weapons capable of penetrating his Ceramite plate, even the paltry laspistol was being held by someone who knew nothing of firearms.
Beta marched slowly in their wake, climbing piles of detritus and ducking under fallen spars of metal. He was surprised at how full this artificial valley was, the munition firebreak had obviously become a favoured place for the crew to dispose of useless items and inconvenient bodies. Beta cared not, even on an Imperial starship the daily death count among the crew was significant and for the Traitor Legions even estimating a number would be impossible. As he walked a part of Beta's mind was seething at the indignity laid upon him, to be walking through a dumpsite, accompanied by mutant scum was beneath a lord of his rank. He was better than they in every way and deserved their awe and fear. Yet another part of him was scoffing at his own pride, he had infiltrated far worse places than this, he had lied his way into festering dens of iniquity and fine palaces alike, no deed was too foul for the Alpha Legion to abhor.
Reluctantly Beta turned his mind to the current situation, the betrayals of Zhumo and their mutual master. Beta couldn't help but chide himself, he should have seen it coming, he should have seen that the Harrowmaster would want him eliminated. Beta would have known that once, there was a time when nothing got past him but Beta had let himself become too concerned with holding on to what he had and so forgotten his ambition to keep climbing. Yet once he would have been ten steps ahead of the Harrowmaster, in fact he wouldn't even have let the gloating cur on board; he wouldn't have hesitated to blow that gunship out of the stars.
Beta was not given to introspection, he had seen and done too much to be spending time fretting over his past but now he couldn't avoid thinking about his life. So many betrayals, so many friends and masters sacrificed on the altar of his ambition. The Unbroken Chain splinter, Habreal Gorsch and Master Korswan, Vorshaan, Indrago Theed… Gamma. That last one hurt, it shouldn't, nothing should touch the Hydra, but Beta felt an unfamiliar stab of pain. Gamma had died for his mistakes, falling to the very bio-weapon Beta had concocted. There was a strange sinking sensation in his chest, a feeling he hadn't felt in millennia. It took a moment to remember the word for it… regret, he regretted Gamma's death.
The realisation made Beta grit his teeth, he was the Hydra, he could waste no time on insipid emotions. He needed to be sharp and alert, he needed to be angry. He forced himself to concentrate on the betrayals wrought against him and in his mind he spied his minions: Zhumo, Talgor, Anurax, Delta and Epsilon. The Harrowmaster's treachery was a foregone conclusion, but theirs was unforgivable, he would explain that to them in due course. Beta's anger built and his lips pulled back over his teeth under his helm, yes, anger would serve his goals very well.
Beta dragged himself back to the moment and took stock. He was alone, set against the entire splinter and massively outnumbered. More concerning was the wound in his side, which was still weeping oily fluid. That was troubling, his gene-forged body should have taken care of it already, the Warp-venom must be potent indeed. Thankfully Beta had already cast precautionary spells over his wound to slow the poison and mitigate the effects but he couldn't remove it alone. There were only a handful of ways to remove such a toxin and all of them came with consequences Beta would rather not face.
Yet he had his armour and his sorcery and certain weapons known only to him. The Shadow was truly vast, larger than many cities and Beta had taken care to stash certain resources in carefully hidden locales, items that could let him win a war single-handed. Meticulous planning and preparation for any eventuality were the hallmarks of his kind, not for nothing did the Alpha Legion claim that the Hydra always won.
A vague plan began to form in Beta's mind, but he would need assistance to carry it out. Beta's eye returned to the mutants and he evaluated their potential. Mutants were part and parcel of the Shadow's crew, inhabiting its bowels since long before it was restored by the Dusk Prince Vorshaan. Beta had never given them any notice; they were mere adornments to his ship, as interesting as a servitor. He mostly saw them chained to the bridge stations or labouring in slave gangs to feed the guns, he'd never asked where they came from but it seemed there were more of them than he knew. Beta frowned at that and he wondered what else he didn't know about his own ship, what secrets it was hiding that had escaped him.
Suddenly the gang of mutants darted into a small gap in the wall, a chink in the metal plating. Beta hastily followed, concerned that they were trying to lose him. Yet it seemed only to be a short-cut, taking them into a smaller subsidiary channel. Beta frowned slightly as he saw defunct magnetic projectors lining the channel and he began to become suspicious as to where they were heading. Sure enough the mutants led him up the channel and he soon emerged into a towering cylinder, that was open on one side.
On the low floor dwelled a tiny village built from scrap, housing some fifty mutants. Beta's eyes rose up and up until they fixed upon the roof, bulging downwards and glowing softly. A tight sensation of dread closed around Beta's throat as he realised that he was looking at a capacitor for one of the Shadow's Plasma Annihilators, a starship-grade macroweapon. This whole chamber was nothing but a vent for overloading plasma coils; to prevent catastrophic damage to the ship should something go awry. If there were a single fault in the weapon this vent would be filled with star-hot plasma, incinerating everything. These mutants were living one malfunction away from annihilation.
Instinct told Beta to depart immediately but he overrode that, these mutants had clearly been living here for some time and it was unlikely that the weapon would blow up soon. Still it was best not to linger. Beta followed the silent mutants into their homestead and saw that he was attracting curious glances. It was disconcerting; they looked curious but not afraid of him, they did not cower before him as mutants usually did. They seemed to be eager to see him, crowding around as he marched forward. It took a moment for Beta to realise that these mutants had probably never seen a Space Marine before, let alone a Sorcerer. They did not understand how far above them he was, they were unaware that he could kill every single one of them without breaking a sweat. Beta scented an opportunity here and decided to play to their ignorance.
Finally the gang found a mutant with greying hair and tentacle hands and the one with the Antenna called out, "Nem! Visitor for you."
The other peered up at Beta and frowned as he asked, "You're no twist, but you're not a normie. What brings you here?"
Beta peered down at the hunched mutant but thought better of using force to get his way and lowered himself to one knee, so they were eye to eye. Beta drew in a breath and said, "You are the leader here? Greetings I am Beta, and I come to you from on high."
The one with the antenna explained, "He floated down from the Uppadecks, we found him in the Blood-Maw's turf. He's one of the Masters."
Gasps greeted that and the mutants twittered among themselves at the declaration. Beta took the opportunity to claim, "Indeed I am, come to reward you for your leal service."
But Zeck snorted, "He's lying."
Beta frowned at that and growled, "Choose your words carefully, lest I grow angry."
Zeck went pale and stammered, "All I mean is, nobody comes down here by choice."
Beta's eyes narrowed, that was a feeble cover for an unintended gaff. He took a millisecond to push his awareness beyond mundane reality, calling upon his witch sight and detected a shimmering aura around the mutant. Ah, Beta thought, a low-level telepathic field, not enough to penetrate a Sorcerer's mind but the mutant was indeed an empath. A lie would be obvious to one such as him, Beta would have to speak truthfully, thankfully he was skilled at using the truth to his own advantage.
Beta changed tactics and lowered his head as if humbled to say, "Alas, my comrades turned upon me, they drove me out and seek to end my life."
Nem gulped at that and said, "I… I don't see how we can help if the Masters are after you."
But Beta responded smoothly, "I am not without means of my own. I have artefacts stashed in hidden places, weapons powerful enough to defeat any foe."
"He's speaking truth," Zeck declared, "We should let him go."
"Unfortunately I require guides," Beta countered, "The route is not known to me. Help me find the means I require to return to my position and I will reward you handsomely."
Nem's eyes lit up and he said, "Now you're talking our language, where do you need to go?"
"The bow," Beta replied confidently.
Unfortunately that drew blank stares and the mutants whispered among themselves, "What's a bow?"
"Never heard of that," Nem stated, "Is it near the Freeze?"
Beta frowned in confusion as he explained, "It's the forward most part of the ship… under the primary launch bay. As far from the engines as you can get."
Nem's eyes light up with recognition and said "Oh, you mean away from the Heat. That's a long way to go and there's a lot of Twist tribes in your way. You'll never make it."
Zeck spoke up then, "He could try cutting through the Dead Zone, nobody goes there."
Beta smelled a trap from the empath, who seemed determined to get rid of him and the Sorcerer said, "Very well, you shall guide me there."
Zeck's face fell at the prospect but Nem cut in to say, "Hold on… we ain't even talked price yet."
Beta's gaze fixed on the mutant and he hissed, "What do you want?"
Nem grinned evilly and said, "Reckon a Master has some good gear, we wants a dozen pistols."
"An' some meat!" a voice called from the crowd.
"And boots with no holes in them!" another voice cried.
Beta went silent as he processed that, then he said in a bemused tone, "Let me get this straight: you have a powerful lord asking for your help, offering you anything you could possibly desire and your demands are a few small-arms, some rations and boots?"
Nem chewed on it then said, "Don't suppose a cooking stove is out of the question?"
Beta was struggling to understand the immense disparity between their worldviews and all he could say was, "Help me reach my destination and I will supply you with everything you have asked for and more."
"It's a deal," Nem declared with a bold grin, "Zeck, get your gang together."
"What?!" Zeck spluttered, "I ain't goin with him."
"Yeah you are," Nem growled, "This is for the tribe, we all need this. You're quick and sharp, get your mates together and move it."
Beta enjoyed the consternation on the mutant's face as he stood up. The Sorcerer now had a guide and a plan and an empath might have uses he hadn't even considered yet. For the first time in a long while Beta felt his old cunning returning to him, this was going to be interesting.
