Captum Ante Chapter 14

All over the night side of Camollum people were sleeping, blissfully dreaming, secure in the knowledge that they were safe and protected. They knew that their world was alone in the dark, impregnable and sheltered by its splendid isolation. For three hundred years they had been undisturbed in their tranquillity and nobody could conceive of any dangers to their world, other than those that they made themselves.

What they did not know was that far above their heads orbited vast metal leviathans, immense Warp-capable starships each bristling with weapons and filled to bursting with troops. There were fat troop transports, Mass-conveyors packed with munitions and fuel, watchful frigates and even a single solitary vessel that bore the stylised 'I' of the Inquisition. This was an imperial invasion fleet, armed and ready for war.

Amidst the drifting shoals of vessels was a sleek killer, with huge engines arrays, thick armour and bristling with guns. Its scars were a testament to the wars it had seen and its hull bore the proud spiral in a starburst icon that was the badge of the Storm Herald's Chapter. She was the Ticonderoga, a full Strike Cruiser and she was currently hosting the Third Company.

Deep within her bowels a meeting was taking place, a gathering of senior leaders. They met in a plain briefing room, favouring the simple functionality of the chamber over the ornate gilding of the ship's Chapels and feasting halls. Those would be saved until the victory was won.

In the chamber was a Hololthic table, projecting a Strategic simulation of the world below and the current disposition of its armed forces. Standing on one side of that table was Brother Jediah, proudly facing the room in a short robe. His power armour was waiting for him, but that would have to wait until the meeting was done. To his side was Sergeant Nimodes, in his battered Scout-armour. He was stood ramrod straight as he delivered his report to the room.

On the other side of the table was the supreme Commander of this expedition: Third Captain Toran in his gleaming artificer armour. He was a scarred and grizzled warrior, with a red augmetic eye and a long relic blade at his hip: the revered Sword of Thiel. Jediah knew him well and thought that he was young for his role and prone to overthinking things. Yet there was also fire in his soul and steel in his spine, his strength and determination demanded respect.

Standing to the Captain's right was Chaplain Wrethan. Jediah knew the Chaplain tried to project a fierce and cantankerous demeanour, but sometimes he would slip and let his paternal pride show. To the Captain's other side was Apothecary Memnos, a more reasonable and rational warrior. Yet when it came to the welfare of those under his care he could be as stubborn and intransigent as Rogal Dorn himself.

Captain Toran was speaking, "This is most perturbing, Imperial spies did not anticipate such a volatile situation."

Apothecary Memnos agreed saying, "The Missionaria Galaxia was supposed to prepare this world for assimilation but all they have done is to increase local tensions. Half the planet embraces the Emperor as a God, the other half is prepared to go to war to deny it."

Chaplain Wrethan spoke up to say, "Hardly a challenge, this world's military is weak and their weapons poor. Bring them to battle and annihilate them, when the Imperial boot is on their neck they will yield."

"Would that it were so simple," declared Nimodes, "The vexing issue here is that both sides have built up a large stockpile of Atonomic bombs. They are low-yield but particularly dirty, if we give them a chance they will irradiate the whole planet."

"Let them," remarked Wrethan, "What does it matter if they kill themselves?"

Jediah somewhat agreed but Toran spoke up to say, "That is not acceptable, the High Lords want this world taken intact. Its industries, such as they are and resources must be preserved."

Chaplain Wrethan spat, "Pah, those fools have no idea what's happening out here. Why should we care what quill-pushers on Terra want?"

Toran shook his head and explained, "Consider the wider strategic situation, the Imperium is beset on all sides. Tyranids attacking from beyond the galactic plane, the Great Beast moves towards Armageddon and now dark omens from the Cadian Gate. The Imperium is haemorrhaging to death and we will not survive without fresh blood. If we are to survive then we need new, viable worlds, not irradiated wastelands."

Jediah hated to admit it but he could see the sense of that. He raised his voice to say, "What of the Witches?"

Wrethan growled, "Filthy heretics, how could the locals let such scum survive?"

Jediah replied, "I do not know, but they are far more numerous and powerful than we were led to believe. They are embedded in the culture here and will not be easy to remove."

Toran rubbed his chin and remarked, "The Inquisition has ring-fenced the matter, they care nothing for the planet but they want the Psykers. They think to capture them, to ship them off to Terra to service the Emperor's needs."

Jediah shook his head and said, "They are too well organised and intractable to capture, I would recommend a total purge."

Toran lowered his head and said, "I will present that conclusion to Inquisitor Zerban."

"Zerban," growled Wrethan, "That cur hates us, he would rather see the whole Chapter purged than work with us."

Toran sighed and said, "Alas he commands the Inquisition forces here and we must work with him. Be grateful that the High Lord's political infighting meant we ended up in command of the whole invasion force, instead of a Departmento Munitorum appointed functionary. Zerban would override a Guard General without hesitation but he would not dare to argue with an Astartes over military strategy."

Nimodes interjected, "Speaking of which, what are we going to do about the invasion?"

Toran answered, "We will have to revise our plans, neutralising the threat of the Atonomic bombs must be the first priority. Jediah I want you on this, the information you retrieved will be essential."

That sounded like a dismissal but Jediah spoke up to say, "What of the other matter?"

"Yes," agreed Nimodes, "What about young Arvael?"

Apothecary Memnos spoke up to say, "I am confused by your report, Arvael is a visionary. Could this not be a symptom of his gene-flaw?"

"We all assumed it was the flaw," Nimodes replied, "But in truth it was but a mask for a far more perilous mutation. Jediah and I both witnessed him manifest eldritch powers, impossible feats that only a Psyker could perform."

Wrethan asked, "What exactly did you see?"

Nimodes explained, "What we took to be visions were in fact an ability to scry over great distances, possibly even a form of clairvoyance. Arvael has also demonstrated the power of Telekinesis and possibly even traces of Telepathy."

Toran mused thoughtfully, "He is rather is old to be revealing his power now, most Psykers manifest at a much younger age. How could he have concealed this for so long?"

Nimodes answered, "He may not have been aware of it himself or his subconscious mind may have been suppressing it. He may be in serious denial about what he is."

Jediah couldn't believe that they were talking about this like the mutant was a broken Bolter and he barked, "He's a Witch, a warp-touched freak! What are we waiting for? Slit his throat and throw his body out an airlock before he opens a portal and lets a horde of Daemons into our midst!"

Everybody started at that but Nimodes barked, "Kill him out of hand?"

Jediah snarled, "Of course, he's too great a danger to let live."

Nimodes protested, "Arvael has fought loyally and well for our Chapter, he has proved his worth in battle."

"Irrelevant," Jediah spat, "It would be the perfect cover for a mole to infiltrate our Chapter. The boy could be nothing but a cunning ruse for Chaos. All it would take is one Daemon to possess his mind and it could destroy our whole Chapter."

Nimodes countered, "But what has he actually done wrong?"

"He is a Witch," Jediah snarled, "That's enough in itself but then he lied about it to your face."

"The boy was scared and in denial," countered Nimodes desperately, "The lie he shall pay penance for but to kill him out of hand…"

Jediah growled angrily, "You speak up for him out of affection, you're letting your fondness for the child cloud your judgement."

Nimodes barked back, "And you let your bloodlust drive you. Admit it; you would have killed Arvael on the spot if I had not stopped you!"

"Enough!" Memnos shouted as he broke into the argument, "Let us not be hasty, a Psyker can be a potent weapon in the Chapter's arsenal. You've all seen the power of the Librarius at work; even one of them can turn the course of a battle. Let the Librarians take him in hand, they can judge his worth and train him if he proves pure and uncorrupted."

Jediah growled, "We have no Librarian with us to vouch for his soul. It would take too long to return him to the Fortress-monastery, we should kill him now."

Wrethan asked thoughtfully, "Could we put him in stasis until a later time?"

Memnos shook his head and said, "I don't think that's a good idea, the fact that he's mature speaks volumes. He must have been suppressing his power on some level. If we take away his conscious mind then it could release the very threat we seek to avoid, even stasis is no guarantee against the Warp. Putting Arvael into stasis could very well be the most dangerous thing we could possibly do."

Jediah snorted and said, "So we're back to killing him."

Suddenly Captain Toran thumped the table and declared, "Shame upon your words! You are all forgetting that Arvael is one of us, a Storm Herald by blood, vow and deed. Does our brotherhood mean so little to you? Would you become kinslayers so easily? I will not allow it and I will not condemn one of our own without first having just cause."

"But…" said Jediah.

"My decision is final," growled Toran and there was that steel in his organic eye that let Jediah know that this was an argument he would not win.

Everybody settled back and Wrethan said, "So what now, do we just keep him in a warded cell until we return to Lujan II?"

Toran shook his head and said, "No, I do not trust him to go unguarded, we shall keep him close to us."

Jediah was confused now and said, "You're letting him out to run free?"

Toran elaborated, "No, not at all. Long ago the imperium faced a similar crisis and from that arose the Edicts of Nikaea, orders that Psykers shall suppress their abilities. The decree was sadly superceded by the events of the Horus Heresy but the tenants are still technically Imperial law."

Everybody paused at that, the Edicts were the Emperor's own decree, to refute them was to question the Emperor himself. Captain Toran continued, "Chaplain Wrethan, are you familiar with the specifics?"

Wrethan nodded and said, "Very familiar, enforcing the Edict was the first purpose of the Chaplaincy. There are mantras and chants, wards and artefacts available. I can teach the boy how to suppress his power."

"Good," declared Toran, "I want you to confront Arvael and explain to him the situation. Tell him that he must swear a solemn vow to abstain from using his abilities until he is delivered to the Librarians for training."

Nimodes pleaded, "Let me go with you, it will be hard for him to hear that he will be forever separated from his squadmates."

Toran nodded in agreement then said, "You must deal with this matter, while I prepare our forces for the coming invasion."

"So that's it?" spat Jediah in disgust, "We choose to trust a Witch?"

Toran snorted and said, "Far from it, I said that Arvael must swear a vow of abstinence but I never said that we would not test him. Arvael will rise or fall on his own merits and by his own will. Wrethan, Jediah I want one of you to stay close to the boy at all times and watch him like a hawk. At the first sign that he is breaking his vow, the first hint that he is using arcane powers or channelling the Warp, then I want you to take your weapons and cut out his heart."

Jediah grinned and eagerly cracked his knuckles as he said, "Gladly."