Dimitri looked up and realized that the evening's musicians were perched on concentric circles that rose around the chamber, crawling higher up the spire's interior. A chandelier ran down the middle of the airspace. Made of long crystalline icicles, it dangled from the top of the vaulted ceiling one hundred feet up and only cleared the dance floor by eight meters.
"Throne of Terra," Dimitri muttered. He took a glass of port from a passing servitor and downed it like he would a trench shot in the Guard. The expensive drink refused to burn his throat, though, and tasted more like grape punch. "Damnit," he muttered.
"Equerry Vlasna?"
That was a woman's voice. The realization seized Dimitri's stomach and held it in thrall. Only one woman at this party could possibly recognize him.
"Marie Xanthius," he muttered. Turning around confirmed his suspicion.
"Madam Xanthius!" he said, striving hard to sound earnest in his happiness. "You look beautiful this evening." At least that was the truth. She was showing enough cleavage in her tight dress to suffocate a dog. "How have you been keeping?"
"Well, Equerry. Quite well. I see you have yet to lose your class even after associating with that pack of dogs you call friends."
She grinned, giving Dimitri the sudden urge to break her teeth. Instead of acting on it, his mouth took over and did what it did best.
"Well, madam, if you'll permit a dog a dance, I think you'll see just how refined we can be." He offered his arm. "I assure you, this super-hardened battleplate is actually much more comfortable to touch than appearances would warrant."
Marie set her hand in his glove. "I suppose I could allow just a short dance."
It'd be shorter if I could cap it off by dropping you from a balcony, Dimitri thought, then said, "I'm honored, madam."
As much as he hated to admit it, Dimitri found the mandatory dancing lessons from his days at the schola taking over before he knew it. Dimitri moved with self-surprising fluidity, his back held rigid as if Sister Cetrius was still behind him, walking stick primed to beat him senseless for slouching. His suit hummed gently with the motions, his footsteps light and clearing Marie's feet with ease, which was good. If he were to step on her toes even by accident, he would surely pulverize her foot.
"Do you still hold your position in the Inquisition?" he asked.
Marie shook her head. "No, it failed to be as fulfilling as I had hoped. I tendered my resignation soon after returning to Terra."
"Oh, I see." Dimitri chose not to bring up the fact that Xanthius had faked her membership. The last thing he wanted to do was shatter her ignorance. "So how do you occupy your time as of late?"
The heiress looked into his eyes. "Oh, nothing much."
Dimitri knew the 'I-want-to-talk-about-something-but-don't-want-to-appear-like-I-do-so-ask-me-so-I-can-talk-about-it-and-still-be-in-charge' tone when he heard it. It made him sick to his stomach, but he played along.
"Please, madam, don't be coy." He put a grin on his face that made him feel ashamed to be alive. "You've piqued my curiosity."
"Well, I would hate to leave you in thrall. I have, embarrassingly so, allowed myself to be courted."
"Wonderful!" That poor bastard. "Who should have such luck?"
"Warmaster Slavere," she replied.
Dimitri thought back to his one meeting with Slavere some months ago, upon returning Marie to Terra. A young Cadian, posh, not accustomed to being told no. He was in charge of the Perseus Crusade, something that Dimitri had heard little of.
"Wonderful," he said, drawing her into a low, slow dip. "What do you intend to do with him?"
Marie shrugged. Her breasts squished together, and suddenly Dimitri understood why this Slavere put up with her.
"I haven't the faintest," she said. "Gregory is a fine man, but I can't help but feel my place is here on Terra. My father is in his twilight hours, and everyone knows he is going to name his successor at some time tonight. I am certain that successor will be me."
"Battle Saint Fredrick Jax," Xanthius's voice rang out across the chamber, "will take up my position as Master of the Administratum, and Overseer of the Council of High Lords upon my demise."
"No!" Marie shouted. Dimitri dropped her and stepped up to the throne, pushing through the applauding crowd.
"Jax!" he shouted. "Jax, what the hell is going on?"
"Shh!" Jax replied. "I'm getting more stuff for you to do paperwork about!" He looked out at the rest of the party and held up his hands. "People, I'm here to tell y'all that I'm gonna be a great President for the Senate, and that everything is gonna be great under my command!"
The applause rose in pitch. In exasperation, Dimitri looked over at Xanthius.
"Lord." He tried to find the words. "Just… why?"
Xanthius smiled. "Because, my boy, after I'm gone, I could care less what people think of me, and if I want to delegate my position to a rude, custom-destroying train wreck of a politician, then damnit I will do so. Have fun."
"With another eight hours tacked onto my already full day?" Dimitri crossed his arms and watched Jax go on some ranting speech, getting everyone fired up. "Yeah, I'll do that."
Xanthius laughed. It sounded like plates shattering on a stone floor. "You'll grow to love it, my boy. Just give it some time."
"I'll take your word for it." Dimitri gave the High Lord a bow. "Now if you'll excuse me, I have to get Jax to teleport us to a beleaguered hive world. There is a rebellion stirring and I have a feeling his sermonizing could do something to put that down."
"What hive world?"
"Keyido IV."
"Promise them food." Xanthius coughed. "That got them to quiet down when I was younger, back in 231 or so."
Dimitri stared at him. "You know, it's a damn shame that you're going to die."
"You are telling me, Equerry." Xanthius nodded toward the door. "Now get to it, boy. The galaxy needs the two of you."
The Confederate
Chapter 34: Rest and Relaxation: Part 3: Beyond the Infinite
Adamus looked across the landing field. "I find myself confused."
"Why?" Tharok rumbled.
"I set my beastmen loose on this world, and when they return to my call, they have quadrupled their numbers." His fingers drummed on the hilt of his sword. "Therefore, I am confused. How did these creatures manage to rut so much? Were they killing nothing?"
"Reports would indicate otherwise," Drake pointed out. "Settlements across this world have been razed to the ground. Aside from a few die-hard guerilla detachments, all resistance has been crushed."
"Extraordinary." Adamus took a last look across the assembled hordes of beastmen, half a million total spread across the savannah, and nodded. "Sandalphon, how many ships have we captured in-system?"
"Three, lord." The strike cruiser's voice filled his mind. "Two freighters and a mass conveyance vessel."
"What happened to that escort ship?"
"It tried to run," Sandalphon replied. "I stopped it."
Adamus sighed. "Fine. Send down troop ships. We'll need the space to house these new additions."
"Yes, lord."
"Omnios, silence the beacon," Adamus said. "We've recalled enough of these creatures."
The sorcerer inclined his head and moved away to deactivate the black stone beacon at the heart of the landing site. As he started chanting and intoning and whatnot, Adamus turned back to the planet he had conquered.
"So, what of these guerillas?"
"Just some local Guard and Sororitas up in the hills," Drake replied. "They're hardly worth our attention."
Adamus grinned. "Maybe so, but the loading will take a good four hours. Are you up for some sport, Sergeant?"
Drake looked up from his dataslate in surprise. "Me?"
"Yes you, Drake. Contrary to popular belief it is possible for me to forgive you of your former failings." He smiled again, knowing it unnerved the ex-Blood Angel. "Now do you want to stretch your wings or not?"
"Yes, War Captain."
"Then bring me an assault pack," Adamus ordered. "If we're going to do this, we will do it right."
(' ')
"So that is why, starting today and continuing for the rest of the decade, this world will benefit from a dietary budget supplied in full by the High Court of Terra. No more starving children!"
The sound of 500,000 cheering hivers met Jax's announcement, followed by eight billion more as the entire city heard the message, broadcast on pictscreens on spire sides for miles around.
Keyido Prime shook, and Dimitri felt the balcony under his feet vibrate. He turned to the man next to him. "Governor Wexias, was that from the cheering?"
The Governor shook his head. "Throne no, Equerry. That was a hivequake. Borough Seven probably collapsed again." He took a dataslate from an orderly and scanned it. "Oh look, it was Seven." He looked at Dimitri. "This happens every few months. Onyx mine support stanchions below that section wither and collapse, caving in the whole Borough. It plays hell with our output."
Dimitri looked sideways at Animal Mother, who was standing guard over Yevina as her designated bodyguard. The big Catachan raised his eyebrows in surprise. Yevina caught his glance as well, and merely shrugged.
"That's normal?" Dimitri asked.
"Yes." Wexias poured himself a glass of port. "Drink?"
Dimitri shook his head. "No thank you, Governor. I have some work to do before we depart." He walked away without another word.
Yevina stepped up in his place. "I could use something, Governor."
Dimitri tuned out the rest of the conversation as he called up a blank recording bank on his HUD. "Application for food aide to Keyido IV hive world, begin recording."
As he spoke out what would later be transcribed into a written request by a servitor and then fed to the monstrous Administratum for processing and execution, Dimitri kept tabs on Jax's speech. The crowds loved it, and Jax carried the prepared lines well. The sing-along program in the Confederate's visor probably helped with the delivery.
He finished the report just as Jax capped off the speech and bade the city farewell before stepping off the balcony and back into the spire proper. Dimitri met him by the governor, who was still chatting with Yevina. How she kept up the interested look, Dimitri would never know.
"Battle Saint," Wexias said, bowing to Jax. "We thank you for coming to our world. If ever we can be of assistance, just let us know."
Jax nodded. "Well, that's rightly nice of ya, Governor, and I suppose I'll take ya up on that offer right now as a matter of fact."
Wexias's expression shifted. "Oh?"
"Yup," Jax said. "See, I got this little friend—"
"Arsehole," Menshaw muttered. Dimitri looked down in surprise. He had completely forgotten they had even brought him along, and judging by the look on Menshaw's face, the Ratling realized this.
"—and all he wants is a lady friend. See, he hasn't, y'know, for a while now, and if you could just find it in yer heart to give him some help in that department, we'd be about even."
"Still think he's an arsehole?" Manker asked.
Menshaw crossed his arms. "Eh, whatever. Its not like this guy's gonna give me his daughter or anything like that."
"A lady for one of the Dogs of War? Of course!" Wexias gestured to one of the female party guests. "Sharona! Sharona, come dearest!"
The woman was younger than Dimitri and quite beautiful if he were to be truthful. She had hair as black as a raven's feathers and deeply tanned skin, only serving to heighten the length of her shapely legs.
"This is my daughter, Sharona," Wexias explained.
Manker looked down at Menshaw and raised his eyebrows. The Ratling scoffed, and then nudged Dimitri in the waist. "Hey, where do I stash my armor?"
Dimitri sighed.
(' ')
After Menshaw finished making official political ties between the Dogs of War and the monarchy of Keyido IV, Jax took a hit off a lascannon battery and jumped the whole unit to Graymalkyn in the Ultima Pacificus. As the largest shrine world in its Segmentum, Graymalkyn's priesthood was well respected in the surrounding systems.
Establishing a relationship with them was essential to securing support for the BattleSaint in the area, a difficult task for any religious figure, considering the conservative nature of the Pacificus's believer base.
Two hundred Dogs marched the Forever Road of Graymalkyn, a fifty-mile avenue of marble through an uninhabited temple city, lined by statues of primarchs and chapter masters of the Astartes. At the end, Jax led the command squad into a sanctum filled with white-robed Honor Guards of the Cult Imperialis Pacificus and their charges, the High Priests of Graymalkyn.
Jax demonstrated his worth in a test never before issued by the priesthood, one meant to determine his faith and abilities simultaneously.
When it was over, Jax had recited six different passages from vague religious texts and cut down all twenty Honor Guards single-handed. Well, Dimitri helped with the passages over a closed com line, but the killing of the Honor Guards was all Jax.
The blessing was given, ties established, and Jax had a new symbol burned into his shoulder pauldron by the time they left.
When they jumped next, they were bound for Ultramar.
(' ')
The attack came swiftly as two blares of jetwash and the crack of lasguns. The guardsmen at the perimeter of the camp fired as soon as they saw the Traitor Astartes screaming in out of the blood-red sky. They were well-trained men and each shot hit its mark.
It mattered little. The fallen Marines wore warplate that shrugged the las-fire aside like it was nothing, and the first guardsman fell before he could get a second shot off. The next four died shortly thereafter, their bodies opened and bleeding on the rocks in rapid succession.
Sister Superior Amaranth Vilverin heard the screams and stood from the makeshift altar at the rear of the command cave. Her black and red Sororitas power armor was anointed with the little holy water she had left, and she counted six shots left in her bolter.
Her chainsword was in remarkable condition considering the weeks she had spent moving through Conventia's hills since the start of the planet's downfall. It could cut solid steel with ease, and it would serve her well as she died here.
One of the Traitor Marines arrived in the mouth of the cave, his sword weighed down by the impaled form of Sister Saphrona, the only other battle sister to have made it this far.
Amaranth exhaled. If Saphrona was dead, then that meant the perimeter guard had fallen, and she was the last one left. It also meant that her own death was imminent.
Ms. Vilverin knew this was coming, had known it ever since the main chapel fell on day one of the invasion. She had prepared for it the entire time she had been running, steeling herself against the inevitable and praying for her soon-to-depart soul. The only consolation Amaranth possessed was the knowledge that she would go down fighting by the adamantine teeth of her chainblade.
She muttered a prayer and flipped the ignition switch with her thumb. The chainsword's engine sputtered, misfired, and coughed into silence.
Amaranth looked down at it. "Really? Really you piece of shi—"
The Traitor Marine crossed the cavern in a heartbeat and slammed her against the wall, his ironclad grip on her throat staunching her cry.
The Chaos Lord's face was oddly clean for such an evil creature. Instead of blackened fangs and pale skin stretched across a skull, he had a—dare she say it—handsome face. When he spoke, his voice was unnervingly soothing.
"I am Adamus Luchance," he said, "and you will be my spoil of war."
Sister Superior Amaranth Vilverin called him an arsehole. It came out as a hiccup, and he knocked her unconscious.
(' ')
There was a bright light, a crackling explosion, and two hundred Dogs of War stood in the center of the destroyed city. Rifles up, the Dogs panned out across the area, sweeping for hostiles. Even as the last ozone-swelling effects of the teleportation sloughed off their armor, a round of clear signals was already sounding from the out-squads.
Jax let go of Yevina's shoulder and slammed his visor back. "What the hell is this?"
Dimitri looked up, and through spots in the smoke-strewn sky was able to confirm their location. "The stars are right. I just have no idea where all the Ultramarines are."
"Or why the city's trashed." Jax rolled a statue's severed head over with the toe of his boot. "I don't know much, but these boys seemed a might too prissy to be livin' in squalor."
"No, I'd imagine not," Dimitri replied. "Maybe we ought to do a bit of searching?"
Jax nodded and turned around, activating the unit-wide com channel. "Okay, people, start hunting. I want evidence of Smurfs, livin' or otherwise, pronto."
As the Battle Saint continued supervising the search, Yevina moved to Dimitri's side. Animal Mother, the member of the command squad saddled with her complete protection, hovered nearby.
"We are at the right coordinates," she whispered.
"I believe it. How have these jumps been from your perspective?"
"Different than the first time. Then I just concentrated on the Astronomican and we jumped. This time was more coordinated. I felt more in control, I guess."
"That's good," Dimitri replied.
He was going to say more, but his visor blared a proximity warning in his ears. He whipped around, rifle coming up, and locked his targeter on a man in tattered blue robes. His suit scanned the man, the weapon results coming back negative.
He blinked open a channel. "Vlasna to all, I have positive contact on a civilian. Stand by." He lowered his rifle and held out a hand. "We're here to help. Who are you?"
The man was bleeding from his forehead, and as he responded, he held a torn piece of his clothing to the cut. "Tertius, Chapter Serf to Brother Sergeant Thanus."
"What happened here, Tertius?"
The serf looked at him. "Betrayal."
Author's Note: That's that, then. We did some planet hopping and saintly stuff, and brought a little more Adamus into the spotlight. Oh, and that girl Amaranth? Do any of you remember her? She's been in the story before. I'm curious if she stuck in your minds.
Next time we're on to the new arc, which concerns itself entirely with the Ultramarines and what exactly that serf was hinting at. But it isn't Chaos. Seriously, how cheap would that be?
Anyway, I'll see you next weekend with more of that serious stuff I've been talking about. Like, really serious stuff. Maybe a death.
*Submitting a review to the Confederate is appreciated, and fuels the ongoing pursuit of a million words and one thousand reviews. Do it, or the Inquisition will find you.