Chapter 38 – Empire's End
Aevar checked the pod, making sure the Custodes and the Empress were securely connected.
"Let's get a move on," the Empress said. "That's my palace they're wrecking down there."
"We're a few minutes from the launch window," Aevar said. "We'll make it."
"Fucking better."
The doors to the drop pod closed, and the massive mechanical arm moved it to the launch tube.
"Ready here," Aevar said.
"Lion and his team are ready as well," Croan said.
"Lion fit in a drop pod?"
"A dreadnaught drop pod," Croan said. "His Custode guard will ride down separately."
"That leaves us," Aevar said. "Come on, we only got a minute 'till we're due."
Croan waited, making sure the two pods, Lion and his Custodes, were securely loaded in the launch tubes. Then he ran with Aevar to their drop pod, where Helfist was already bolted in and waiting for them.
"Finally going to war with the Allfather," Vermund said. "Never thought we'd be fighting on Terra, though."
"Sounds like the real wolftime, don't it?" Aevar said. His cranial implant wirelessly linked with the logic-engine, then jumped aboard as the pod was moved to the tube as the mechanized arms moved to ready the pod or launch.
"This is utter madness," Croan said as he bolted himself into the pod.
"Shit, this goes beyond madness," Aevar said. His armor locked him in place, and the pod was placed in the tube. "Twenty seconds until launch window. That means the Lamenters are already flying through space."
"Let's hope they got enough luck to get to the surface," Helfist said.
"Let us hope we were right that the anti-air batteries are inoperable," Croan said. "We will have a very short ride if they are not."
The pod jerked violently as it was shot through the tube. Aevar held onto his harness as acceleration gripped him.
"Vox check," Aevar said, accessing their channel. "Invillus, can you hear me?"
We can, the Lamenter said.
"Oh good, you're still with us."
Against all odds, we are.
"Looks like you might set a record for longest drop pod assault."
Good thing we are on Terra; maybe we can write the record ourselves, Invillus said. And maybe we can take down our banner from the Halls of the Fallen, seeing as we are still alive and not a dead Chapter. Yet.
"You're a real ray of sunshine, you know that, right?"
"Hitting atmosphere," Croan said. "We are entering anti-air range."
The pod shook as it entered Terra's atmosphere. Aevar held his breath.
"Hmm. No flak," Helfist said. "Guess someone down there really likes us."
"Aye, so far, so good," he mumbled, gripping the hand holds tighter. "Fuck, I hate being useless."
"Put your faith—er, trust in the pod, brother," Croan said.
"Still feels wyrd to not say that word, eh?"
"It will require quite an adjustment."
The pod's retro-thrusters burned to life, forcing Aevar into the floor of the pod. He clenched his teeth as they hit the ground. The doors to the pod dropped open, the restraining bolts unlocked and he jumped back on to Terran soil.
He nearly didn't. The pod had landed on what seemed to be a balcony, precariously close to the edge. He jumped back; another foot further and he would have fallen hundreds of meters to what looked like a massive boulevard.
"Watch your step," he said. "It's a dozy."
"Don't need to tell me twice," Helfist said. He was a second behind him, and avoided narrowly jumping to his doom.
"Looks like we landed in good position," Croan said, pointing ahead of them. The massive Eternity Gate stretched out ahead of them; they couldn't be more than a half a kilometer from it. Gunfire echoed off the massive golden gate; the traitors were here, too.
"Pretty hard target to miss," he said. "Invillus, you there?"
That we are. We landed just in front of the Eternity Gate.
"Do you see the Sisters? The Emperor?"
The Sisters have landed near us. The Emperor seems to have landed near you. Lion and the Dark Angels are not here as of yet. If you break through the building you have landed at, you will come upon a causeway. The Emperor is taking that to the Gates.
"Excellent," Croan said. "We will link up with the Emperor and move as one. Hold the ground for us, brother."
When do we not? Although I would recommend that you find cover; it is a shooting gallery over here.
Croan kicked down the door to the balcony. They found themselves plowing through a massive, plush office.
"Fucking pencil pushers," Aevar growled. "How soft have they grown here?"
"They do good work, wolf," Croan said. "Remember, it takes more to run the Imperium than punching this to try and make them go away."
"But punching things is fun," Helfist said.
Aevar kicked open a door that was bigger than he was, and they ran through rich mahogany wood floors, making the wood crack under the combined weight of themselves and their armor. Aevar saw the golden armor of the Custodes walking by the window. Just as Invillus said, there was a raised causeway just outside the window.
"After me," Aevar said. He launched himself through the window, his armor breaking it with no effort. He landed and rolled to his feet; he was looking at the point of many spears. One of them was Kemuel's. "Sorry, traffic was terrible."
"You wolves sure love your dramatic entrances," the Empress laughed as Helfist jumped after him.
"They also like nearly jumping to their deaths," Croan said, carefully jumping from the window to the raised train track. "He nearly jumped to the boulevard below."
"Long first step, ain't it?" The Empress said. "Come on, let's get my Throne back."
They broke into a run. Aevar fell in next to Kemuel.
"What's your take on this?" He asked.
"I do not know," the Custode said. "But if the High Lords have declared us traitors, they are playing a very dangerous game."
"Then let's hope they don't have more balls than brains, eh?"
The Empress easily jogged down the tracks, whistling a careless tune. Custodes ran ahead and behind her; Aevar, Helfist, and Croan brought up the rear. The railway lead to the gate, where they saw Lamenters forming lines with Sisters of Battle. The massive Eternity Gate was still open, but it was heavily manned. They all came to a stop by the edge of the Gate, granting them only a scant amount of cover.
"What kind of defense are we up against?" Aevar asked.
"Whatever it is, it is not the full measure of the Eternity Gate," Kemuel said.
Where there were once intricate murals of the heroes of the Imperium along the top of the gate, hidden slots were pulled back, revealing weapons embankments by the dozens.
Turrets holding heavy bolters, multi-meltas, lascannons and even plasma cannons sat idle. If they had loyalists holding out inside the Gates, they were doing an excellent job keeping the weapons offline. But the turrets were not the only weapons that threatened their advances.
There were Imperial Guardsmen at the entrance of the gate, entrenched behind massive walls of sandbags. Heavy weapons teams with lascannons were spread out every five or ten feet. With the kilometer-long gate, it had more firepower than Aevar had ever seen the Guard wield, and that was without counting the dozens of Leman Russ tank variants and super heavy Baneblades.
The drop pods that landed in front of the heavy weapons and tanks had been immediately destroyed. Lamenters and Sisters alike were crouched behind the burnt-out wrecks for cover from the guns of the Guards. Many lay dead in the open.
"That's not the 'full measure' of the fucking gate?" Helfist cursed.
"It is not," Kemuel said. "The defense turrets are still inoperable, and there are no active grav amps or quad-cannons. Not to mention, the doors are still open."
"Shit, I don't care if they roll out a red carpet, that's a tough nut to crack," Aevar said.
"And we are short on heavy weapons," Croan said.
"Don't worry, we got one better," the Empress smiled. She nodded behind them. "We have Lion."
Charging down the causeway they were recently on, Lion came running, scores of his Dark Angels and his own Custode Guards at his heels. Seeing the massive Primarch, many of the guardsmen and women faltered. A few even abandoned their post, only to be shot by their Commissar.
"By the dark forest, that is a lot of firepower," Lion said, ducking for cover at the outside of the Gate.
"It is, but we can handle it," the Empress said. "Let's give diplomacy one last chance before we take this place back." She walked out from the cover of the corner, towards the open range of the Guard.
Custodes tried to jump in front of her, but she burst into radiant light. It was the Emperor's vast psykic might, and it was illuminating the entire Gate. The fire slowly stopped until all was quiet; not only were the Guard still, but the Lamenters and Sisters of Battle were as well.
I am the Emperor, the psykic voice boomed across the gate. Men and women held their hands against ears, trying to keep the words from their brains. More than a few Lamenters and Sisters followed suit. And you stand between me and my Throne. Throw down your weapons, and your lives will be spared.
The Eternity Gate was quiet for a full ten seconds. The only thing that Aevar could see was the Emperor in radiant light.
A bolt rang out. It bounced harmlessly off the Emperor's breastplate.
No?
Lasgun fire began illuminating the space between the Emperor and the Guards. One shot turned to ten, then a hundred. Custodes rushed forward, carrying massive storm shields. They formed a bulwark around the Empress, protecting her from harm.
Well, you guy got balls, I'll give you that, she said. "Lion, you ready?"
"We are not charging this gunline!" Lion yelled.
"Well, not now."
The Emperor snapped her fingers, and cries of horror rose from the rank of the Guards. Men and women broke rank, clawing at their skin like they were covered in bugs. Dozens, hundreds, maybe even thousands of guards dropped their weapons. Tankers jumped from the battle tanks and Baneblades, swatting at unseen horrors. Commissars shot fleeing men and women; a few even shot themselves.
The Empress was cursing the Guards. Dozens of meters worth of firepower suddenly stopped, then it was nearly half of the entire kilometer-long defense line. Other heavy weapons teams tried to pivot to fill the gap, but the turrets they were placed on didn't allow for a great range in motion.
"I do not like where this is going," Lion said, "but we have to retake the Throne. To me!"
Lion charged across the open ground, shooting a plasma pistol.
"Come on, you dumb apes, you wanna live forever?" The Empress laughed as she charged himself. Custodes ran with them, followed by Astartes and Sisters.
"Well, shit, might as well," Helfist said. Power pooled in his eyes as he pulled the power of Fenris and cast it on Aevar and Croan. He felt the blessing of endurance seep into his bones; he could do anything. "Let's go."
The entire concave entrance to the Eternity Gate was filled with laser lights as they charged forward. The Imperial Guard were firing en masse at the charging Lion and Emperor. Lascannons burst against Lion, but his refractor shield pushed many brilliant lances away.
"For the Emperor!"
Aevar jerked his head to the side; the Sisters and Lamenters strewn across the massive Gate were mounting their change as well. He saw many squads assuming firing positions to cover the assault, but against the sheer number of the Guard, not to mention the tanks, they began taking losses.
One lascannon bisected a Custode. Many Sisters and Lamenters fell to the ground, riddled with lasgun holes; against such numbers, someone was bound to get lucky. But many Guardsmen were blinded by the Emperor's psykic spell; they were clawing at their skin instead of manning their positions, detracting from the amount of fire they put out. It made them a vulnerable target.
Then Lion was in their lines. He brought his massive sword around; bodies and body parts were thrown in the air. Aevar saw the Emperor cutting men and women down as if it was nothing.
But it was war, and war is what he was good at. Aevar snarled and leapt at a group of Guards. Their lasguns singed his armor; one was able to cut his cheek and draw blood. With his blood pounding, the murder-make was upon him; he felt nothing.
He swung Katla, shattering the men and women. His servo-arm shot out and broke the neck of another. The Guard were good at shooting, but when it came to actual fighting, they were none that could stand against a Vlka.
He turned on the last man. The man lost his nerve, dropped his gun. He tugged at a simple necklace as Aevar advanced.
"Emperor, save me!" He cried. The necklace he held tightly was an Aquila.
Aevar stopped.
"Emperor, at the moment of my death, deliver me from evil," the man sobbed. "Save me, a humble servant of your eternal will. Save the weakest, so we may serve you in your holy light…"
Aevar had killed heretic guardsmen before. He had killed traitor brothers. He had killed foul daemons of every shape and size, and he had butchered xenos by the thousands. But Aevar had never killed a loyalist.
The man was in his final seconds of life, but the Guardsman didn't curse him. He didn't yell to the dark gods for one final boon of power. He was begging, begging for the Emperor. Aevar had heard it a million times when the Vlka came to the aid of the Guards.
Aevar blinked, looking himself over. Blood from the Guards he swept away was sprayed across his armor and beard. It was almost like some sick follower of Khorne had taken a massive paint brush with blood, then smeared and smattered him all over. He stood there, towering over the simple, terrified guardsman, the very picture of the monstrous, mindless barbarian.
From the ground, the guardsman looked up at him. Fear oozed from every pore. Aevar could smell it in his sweat, his piss, even his spit.
"I…" Aevar stammered. Katla trembled in his hands. "I never…"
With his own shaking hands, the mortal guardsman pulled a pin on a grenade.
It was reflex; Aevar kicked the man. Against the might of a superhuman Sky Warrior, the man went flying, the grenade still in his hand. A few feet from the ground, he exploded into viscera. Some splattered Aevar.
Aevar staggered back as if he was hit with a hammer. He had killed a loyal man. He looked around, seeing the Sisters, Lamenters and Custodes in battle.
When they first landed, when they had faced a well-fortified gun line, fortune had favored the Guard; no longer. With the Emperor blinding a wide swath of them, and Lion punching a hole in their defense line, everything was collapsing. The line was breaking as guardsmen tried to shoot at enemies that were suddenly all around them.
Sisters burned Guardsmen alive with their hand flamers, their armor deflecting lasgun rounds. Lamenters and Dark Angels hacked them apart with bolt and blade, throwing blood and guts everywhere. Custodes moved through them with surgical precision, always in motion, always killing, their spears spinning in graceful arcs that flung blood this way and that, swords that rose and fell with beautiful precision.
And Lion and the Emperor weren't even taking the fight seriously. He saw the Primarch carelessly kick men and women across the great expanse of the Gate. He sunk his sword deep into a Baneblade, detonating ordinance kept inside their hulls. The Empress' sword was a blur, and she was whistling as if it were a marry stroll.
Guards ran at Aevar, clutching demolition charges in their hands.
"Die, traitor," they cried. Ever their last efforts to curse them were dripping with terror. It was as easy as blinking; Katla came sailing across his shoulders, and the guards were swept away. Either by some twist of fate, they were still alive long enough to trigger the demolition charges, or the charges were on a timer. It exploded, throwing Aevar with enough force to rattle his teeth. He rolled, regaining his senses. A hand pulled him to his feet.
"Your duty is not done, brother," Croan said. Blood dripped down his massive broadsword. Aevar nearly slipped; he had stepped on what looked like the bisected torso of a woman.
"They're loyalists," he stammered.
"They tried to kill the Emperor!"
"No, they're still loyal," Aevar mumbled.
He wanted to stop, but he was a Son of Russ, slaughter incarnate. Unleashing the murder-make was as easy as breathing; where there was a Guardsman that attacked him, he swung back.
Another guard brought a turret to bear on him. Aevar launched himself at the man, crushing him with Katla. The man turned to pink mist and meaty chunks. He wanted to stop, but one did not bring the Vlka Fenryka to a fight and expect them to simply stop.
"By the Throne, please!"
"Emperor, save your servant-"
"Guide my aim, make it true, grant your servant with courage to strike your foes-!"
Men and women were crying for the Emperor to save them. Aevar doubted he would forget those sounds for the rest of his life. And not ten meters from them, the Emperor waded through their numbers, deaf to their pleas.
"You're not traitors," Aevar said to the men and women he killed. He realized that he was pleading with them, begging their forgiveness. "You're not."
Tanks were moving in a full retreat, their battle cannons shooting wildly to try and keep the invaders from the lines of the Sisters and Lamenters.
Brilliant lascannon shots hit the tanks. The Lamenters had grabbed the discarded cannons, tore them from their pod mountings, and slung their power supplies over their shoulders. They formed rank, becoming crude groups of Devastator Marines. With their gene-enhanced strength amplified by their armor, they easily carried the heavy weapons.
The tanks trained their cannons at the groups of lascannons. Shield carrying Custodes pushed through their lines, forming a phalanx of storm shields. The heavy ordinance bounced off the shields, and the Lamenters pressed forward.
"Sisters, form ranks," a voice cried out. Aevar was shocked to see Lynia at the head of the charge. "We move with the Emperor!"
She was covered with blood. The blood of loyalists.
"No, no, not her too, please not her too…" He broke into a sprint to catch up. But the massive force of advancing soldiers kept him apart.
Into the Eternity Gate they went, chasing the retreating tank columns. They passed by burned-out husks, bodies that still burned in their mad attempt to escape.
"Please, they're loyal," Aevar stammered. "Give them the order to surrender. Stop us, please."
But the Emperor was more intent on whistling than on ordering a stop to the slaughter. They drove deeper and deeper into the Palace, Lion and the Emperor pushing for the Sanctum Imperialis. Last lines of defense were swept away, their forward momentum not even dented.
The gates to the Throne Room were within a stone's throw. The Guards were mounting their last defense, and they had saved the best for last.
The yell went up from the front of the lines.
"Assassins!"
Rising above the shouts of the Sisters and Lamenters came horrible, tortured screams. Aevar spotted dozens of black-suited, skull helmeted men were launching themselves at the front lines.
"Eversors!" Aevar saw that it was Helfist who cried out the name of the assassins.
Power swords met artificer armor, only barely being pushed back by the hard work that he and Croan had put into each piece of armor. Despite being simple humans, the assassins' strength was able to dent the heavy armor.
Even if the blows were turned away, it didn't stop the inhuman assassins from moving forward. Where armor turned blades away, they sunk gauntleted needles into joints and crevices. Lamenters and Dark Angels jerked as poison was pumped into their blood, Sisters cried as they were hacked apart, even Custodes were felled by several assassins leaping at them. They tried to assault Helfist, but his blessing held true, and kept his tough as iron.
"We're all loyal," Aevar mumbled.
Custodes moved against the Eversors, disarming them and running them through with their swords and spears. The assassins exploded, showering them with acid blood. A few Custodes fell to their knees, trying to get back up.
Ogryns lumbered into the fray, massive shield slabs keeping them armored. Lion stepped to meet them, and even the heaviest armor stood no chance against him.
With their last gambit failed, the Guard were left defenseless. They pounded on the Gate, trying to escape the carnage.
"Open the gate," the soon-to-be-butchered Guards cried. "The Usurpers are here! Please, save us!"
The gates began to grind open, and they yelled their relief. A few men tried to push their way through the narrow opening. Suddenly, a blade shot from the entrance, skewering two men's heads.
Battle-weary Custodes pushed the doors open. They were caked with blood and gore; their armor bore marks of battle where bullet and blade nearly did them in. But they were still alive, and they were angry.
As the Gates opened, more and more embattled Custodes poured from the Throne Room. The Guard stood between them and the Emperor; that put them in the worst possible spot to be. Aevar wanted to press his hands against his ears, but he couldn't.
It had stopped being a war the second Lion breached the Guard's lines. It was a bloody slaughter, an act worthy of traitors, not the Imperium.
"Fucking finally," the Emperor groaned. "If they messed with my original body, I swear to Metallica…"
"Victory!" The Lamenters cried.
"Victory!" The Dark Angels sang.
"Victory!" The Sisters cheered.
The cry was repeated. Aevar stared at the butchered Guardsmen. They were stacked off to the side, their dead bodies already being treated as trash.
Aevar fell to his knees.
"They were loyal…"
"This is your first time fighting the 'loyal?'"
Aevar looked up. Lion was approaching him.
"They were loyal," he snarled. "They weren't offering blood sacrifices, they weren't pledging their souls to the dark gods, they were begging for the Emperor!"
Lion shook his head.
"I have not seen this since Horus' treason," he sighed. "It is dirty business, fighting brothers."
"I can fight our fallen brothers," Aevar snapped. "But these guards have done nothing but been led by the wrong men!"
"Eh, fuck 'em, I gave 'em a chance."
Aevar jumped as Laura sauntered over to him, blood drying on her armor. She brushed her long hair out of her face…her disinterested, disdainful face. She wasn't even giving the Guardsmen the simple acknowledgement that they were human; they were beneath her, so utterly useless and worthless. She had ordered the hundreds of thousands of men to their death just for following orders. She had killed them on the off-chance they could not be reasoned with.
Aevar felt sick.
Laura…oh Hel's teeth, where did I go wrong?
"Remember from a few minutes ago?" Laura said. "One last chance for diplomacy?"
Then Aevar remembered that it wasn't Laura, but rather the Emperor that was using her body.
What have I done to you? Where did I fail you…?
"They were calling out to you," he stammered.
"You mean praying," the Empress corrected. "Remember what I said about praying?"
"They were still loyal to you!"
"Tough shit, they tried to kill me. Come on, let's make sure my Throne and my original body are still good." The Emperor nodded towards the Throne.
Aevar heard a gasp from the pile of dead bodies. Ignoring the Empress, he ran to it. There was a bloodied face at the top of the pile who had gasped.
"Water," the dying guard said. Aevar couldn't tell if it was a man or a woman. It mattered not.
He reached to his pouch and pulled a small canteen from it. He offered it to the guard, but they had already perished.
"Rest," he said, closing their eyes. "You have done your duty."
"This is madness," Croan said, looking at the battle. He shook as the Lion approached him.
"I overheard what my father said," the Primarch said. "And what you have said. It is madness, more than you can ever know."
"They were loyal," Aevar said. "You can understand that, can't you?"
Lion gave him a questioning look.
"They took up arms against my father," he said. "They stood between us and unification. They spat against our Compliance. Surely you can understand the need for humanity to be united against the darkness, can you not?"
Aevar couldn't meet Lion's eyes.
"I would have thought that a Son of Russ would have understood the need to dirty one's hands," Lion said as he walked away. "What we do is not good, but it is necessary."
"Come, to your feet, brother," Croan said, pulling him up. "We must not look weak."
"'No job too dirty, no deed to dark,'" he mumbled. "Aye, I remember saying those words. I've done terrible things, Croan. Horrible things, but all in the name of the Allfather." He looked at the butchered corpses. "But this is something I never expected to do."
"What are you babbling about?" The Salamander asked. "Did that demolition charge rattle your brain?"
"No wonder Russ said he was done being his executioner. It takes too much work to seem this barbaric and savage. And by the time we look it, we act it as well."
"Speak sense," Croan said, grabbing Aevar by the shoulder.
"Open your eyes, Croan," Aevar spat. "Didn't you hear their cries?"
The Salamander stopped.
"You did then, eh? You heard 'em crying out?"
"Does this have a point?"
Aevar knew bravado when he heard it.
"What's the oath you took when you joined the Salamanders?" He asked. "What was the first brand you got?"
Croan stiffened.
"And what do you think you just did?" Aevar laughed darkly. "Come on, let's see what our reward is for breaking our closest held vows."
Croan took one lingering look at the piles of dead Guardsmen, then hesitantly followed Aevar. He unconsciously rubbed his chest, where he took his first brand, 'Protect the Weak.'
"By the Omnissiah," Legato gasped.
"Fekkin' shit," Maeva agreed.
They took a few steps from the Thunkderhawk ship, and the horrid smell of death was already hitting them with the force of a club to the face.
The hallway that lead to the Throne Room was being cleaned. That meant that dead bodies were being pushed into great piles by servitors outfitted with dozer blades. The dead were piled meters high. Once a pile got high enough, roughed up trucks were brought in, and the dead were shoved onto the beds, then driven away.
Maeva didn't know where the dead were taken, and she was damned happy not knowing.
"Y' know, maybe we shoulda waited a little longer 'for comin' down, eh?"
Legato brought a handkerchief to his nose. Maeva wished she had one of those; the smell was incredible. She had smelled a mass grave before, but the ones she smelled on Fenris had the benefit of being in sub-zero weather. Only now did she know how much of an edge the cold took off from the smell.
"And make the Emperor wait?" Legato said.
"Yea, tha' sounded like a better idea in my head," she said. "Probably shoulda stayed there, too."
A Sister of Battle approached them. She wore a helm, which probably meant that she was scrubbing the scent of death from the air before she breathed it. Maeva was burning with jealousy.
"The Emperor demands your presence," the Sister said. "Follow me."
Legato followed the Sister, but Maeva stepped ahead of him.
"Little Laura screamin' any?" She whispered the code-phrase to the Sister.
"I beg your pardon?"
Then Geist wasn't disguised as the Sister.
"Wha'?" Maeva said, playing dumb.
"You said something."
"I didn't say anythin'," Maeva said. "Maybe muttered somethin' 'bout th' damn smell, but I didn't say nothin'."
"…It is quite bad, isn't it?" The Sister agreed.
"Ya can smell it under tha' helm of yers?"
"The air scrubbers are built to recycle air, not to rid it of smell. It helps, but…"
"Fekke."
"Fuck," the Sister agreed.
The smell only grew worse as they walked towards the Throne Room. More and more dead bodies were being carted away, and teams of tech-priests were lighting horrifying amounts of incense to try and cover the smell. Maeva wrinkled her nose; it only made it worse by drawing attention to the smell of dead bodies.
Eventually, they made their way to the Throne Room, where the smell seemed to abate a little. Custodes helped the body-stealing Emperor remove prayer papers and seals that were put up all around the room.
"—mess," the body-stealer grumbled out loud. "Seriously, I leave the Palace for a standard damn month, and they find a way to screw everything up again…"
Maeva looked around the room. The Emperor's original body sat on the Throne, silent as ever. Every so often, she'd catch the barest hint of motion; an organ pulsing, or a tube convulsing as fluid was dripped into the carcass.
The Throne Room was bustling with activity as everyone tried to keep up with whatever queer demands the Emperor gave them. Custodes and tech-priests worked feverously, even the Primarch Lion was helping, but she saw Aevar, Helfist, Croan and even Lynia sitting off to the side. Aevar and Helfist passed a canteen between them; if she had to guess, it was mjod. She blinked as she saw Croan took the flask.
"Hold on," she said, walking up. "Am I seein' thin's, or is Croan drinkin' now?"
"I figured it was as good a time to start," the Salamander said. He took a quick pull, and grimaced. "Although I will most likely stop; this needs a truly acquired taste to enjoy."
"Good thing we Vlka got the taste for it," Helfist chuckled darkly as he took the canteen from Croan. Vermund pulled a separate canteen from his pocked and gave it to Lynia, who took a long pull.
"Wait, yer fekkin' drinkin' now?" Maeva demanded. "Mjod hits us mortal like ground glass, yea? Ya can't go drinkin' tha'."
"I had a thing of Fenrisian spirits," Helfist said. "She needed it more than I did."
"Thought ya took a vow of dry-ness."
"The word you're looking for is 'temperance,'" Lynia said, trying not to cough against the brutal spirits. "And if there was ever a time to break such a vow, it'll be now."
"Was it as bad as it looked?" Legato asked. "The battle?"
"Worse," Aevar mumbled.
"By the…uh, by all that is good," Legato stammered. Lynia handed him the flask. Legato grimaced as he drank.
"Yes, we can't even curse like used to," Lynia said.
Aevar squinted his eyes.
"Who let those two in?"
Maeva turned around. Julas and Parsef were escorted in by a small team of Custodes.
"Thought the Emperor would've wanted them locked up."
"Maybe he thinks it's better ta have 'em close," Maeva said. "Ya know, where he can see 'em."
"Something tells me that something bad is going to happen," Legato said.
"Alright, you two," the body-stealer said, pointing at Julas and Parsef. "You work for the Inquisition. Tell me what the fuck is going on right now."
"I, I am sorry, Emperor, but I don't know what the Inquisition was doing," Parsef said, bowing politely.
"Bull-fuckin'-shit. They tried to put us down with at least two whole Guard regiments, tens of tank squadrons, and a dozen assassins," the Emperor spat. "That's serious damned firepower there. Not to mention they turned a whole damned fleet against us."
"I can verify the Inquisitor's claim," Julas said. "I spent nearly every moment since your awakening with him. The Inquisition gave no warning to him about the events that transpired."
"I still call bullshit," the Emperor said. "They turned the damned High Lords against me, and the what-you-call-'em that lead the priests."
"The Ecclesiarchy."
"Yea, them. I don't like being worshipped, but saying that I'm a damned usurper? That either takes titanic balls or a horrifying amount of ignorance. Speaking of which, where's the woman that leads the Sisters?"
Maeva looked at Lynia. So did Aevar, Helfist, Croan, and about half a dozen Custodes and damn near every Sister of Battle in the room. Groaning, the old woman passed the canteen to Maeva and stood up. Maeva took a quick nip and scanned the room for Geist.
"Against my wishes, my Sisters have placed me in charge," Lynia said.
"Probably means you're really good at what you do," the Emperor said.
"I humbly believe that there is nothing special with what I do."
"Duly noted," the Emperor laughed. "I heard you're joined at the hip with the Ecclesiarchy. If they called us traitors, why the fuck are you here?"
"We are the Sisters of Battle," Lynia said. "We are the chosen, to fight in your name. We…we used to worship you as a god; hearing that you denied any divinity…it broke us. Our faith was our shield, our sword, our armor, it was everything to us. A Sister without faith is simply unheard of."
"All the more reason to find it damned strange you're here and not with the Ecclesiarchy," the Emperor said.
"That's because we don't take orders from the Ecclesiarchy; we take orders from you. With you sat upon the Throne, we had to rely on the Ecclesiarchy for interpretations of your holy—er, your eternal will."
"Good catch," the Emperor said. "I'll let it slide."
"My thanks. You are the Master of Mankind; not even the heretics can deny it. Before we set upon Cadia to help drive the traitors back, we asked to see you, so that many of our sisters would see you, and hear your will."
"Oh yea, my little side-trip to your ship."
"Exactly. We saw you, and we saw what you were. We knew that you commanded us to relinquish our faith. Our faith…it had moved mountains. Turned back killing blows, and spelled death to our enemies. We would never give it up. But to hear you, the Master of Mankind, tell us to give up our faith…there is no one else whom we would follow."
"Oh, I get it," the Emperor grinned. "The greatest act of faith is relinquishing one's faith."
"And only you can inspire such faith," Lynia said. "That is why we had to see you, so we would know your will."
"Damn. Mad props."
"Thank you," Lynia said. "The process hasn't been flawless, however. Many sisters still hold you in their hearts as the God-Emperor of Mankind. The change will take time."
"As long as there's improvement, I'm a happy camper," the Emperor said. "Now, where was I? Right, the Inquisition pricks!"
"Sire, we knew nothing of the Inquisition's intentions," Parsef pleaded. "Nor of the High Lords!"
"I believe you."
"You…you do?" Parsef said.
"Uh, yea, I can read your mind," the Emperor said. "Comes from being a psyker. I'm pretty sure they left you high and dry as a patsy. Maybe buy them a little bit more time to do whatever the crap they're doing."
"Forgive me, sire," Julas said, "but if you could read their minds, how did things come to this?"
"Because it's not a passive ability. I have to actually try to read someone's mind, and if you didn't notice, I was a little busy with this damn Crusade," the Emperor spat. "Fuck, everyone's a backseat driver…"
Canoness Lynia, come in, a vox crackled. Lynia sighed and picked up the receiver from her pocket. Her face drained of color.
"Sire, we have received word from Mars," she said. "The Imperial Navy has placed them under siege!"
"What?" Legato yelped.
"Sire, the Imperial Navy has dozens of ships in Mars' orbit," Croan said. "If they have sided with the Ecclisarchy, they could destroy much of Mars' might, possibly the planet itself."
"Yea, I know," the Emperor said. "But Mars is armed to the teeth. They probably got some defenses going."
"We can't let Mars fall!" Aevar said.
"Never said we weren't," the Emperor said. "Lynia, order your fleet to help break the siege. The Mechanicus has probably put the hurt on 'em, but we can't leave 'em high and dry."
"As you order," Lynia bowed. She excused herself as she went back to the vox to relay the orders.
"And can someone tell me why it was so easy to take my Throne back?" The Emperor demanded. "Seriously, this place held out against Horus. How come it was so easy for us?"
"Sire." Kemuel stepped forward. "We have only begun talking with our brothers whom you left to guard the Palace, but the treason of the High Lords was not complete. They knew they would never be able to corrupt a Custode, and had planned to massacre as many of our brothers as they could before your arrival.
"They would have succeeded, too, if it were not for a group of loyal Guards. These men and women sacrificed themselves to warn the Custodes, and they were able to mount a defense to keep the full defensive measures from being activated."
"Fucking shit, there are some serious badasses here," the Emperor said. "Build a damn monument to them."
"Sire," another Custode said, stepping forward.
"Ugh, what now?"
"The High Lords are broadcasting a message," he said. "It is to be played at all Imperial worlds. We have just received it from the few remaining Astropaths; the Master of the Astronomican has absconded with the rest of the High Lords."
"Well, play it."
"Sire, it is dire news."
"Just fucking play it!"
The Custode lead a thin man forwards. A servo-skull followed him, and his eyes were sewn shut. Maeva made the ward of aversion on her neck; the man was a psyker. He placed a memory-chip into a servo-skull. Its holographic projector warmed up, and projected an image of a regal looking man.
"I speak with the authority of the High Lords of Terra," the man said. "I speak to the entirety of the Imperium of Man. Bear my words, for sinister forces conspire against the Emperor."
"What fucking forces?" The Emperor demanded.
"A clone, a genetic monstrosity, has laid claim to the Golden Throne," the man continued. "It has usurped the Emperor's holy power, and is using them for its own twisted end. It has claimed that the Emperor is not a god; it spews nothing but lies and vile heresy, and seeks to deny us our place in the heavens. The High Lords of Terra cannot let such a monster stand; the Emperor protects His subjects, and He will smite the imposter from the pages of history.
"The Ecclesiarchy has deemed this imposter a false god, one that seeks to turn all from the Light of the Emperor. By their holy order, the strange being masquerading as the Emperor is hereby declared a traitor and foul usurper, as are all who stand with it. They are all guilty of the same crime.
"The creature has captured Holy Terra, and it must be returned to proper hands. The High Lords have asked the Ultramarines for their assistance in this Crusade, and call to any and all truly loyal servants to flock to their banner at Macragge and declare their undying loyalty to the High Lords. Those who don't will be considered in league with the Usurper, and will die a traitor's death. May we crush this abomination and return the rule of the Emperor and the Imperial Cult to the stars."
The servo-skull winked off and floated back to the psyker. The entire Throne Room was quiet. Maeva even forgot about the smell.
"What. The. Fuck," the Emperor spat.
"This can't be fucking happening," Helfist said. "The High Lords just called all of us damned traitors."
"What the High Lords say will be the truth to many Imperial worlds," Croan said. "Perhaps to every world. And if they have the Ecclesiarchy, every Shrine World will follow them to the end of the galaxy."
"Frost's balls, this explains why the damned fleet fired on us," Helfist said. "Why the Guards here fought so—"
Maeva turned to Helfist. He stopped so suddenly, it was like he just froze in midair. The astropath froze, too, but only for a second.
Both Helfist and the astropath collapsed, screaming in agony. Lion suddenly had his sword in hand, moving with the Custodes towards the Empress as she rocked on her feet, trying to stay upright.
"To the Emperor," the Custodes yelled. "What is the source of this madness?"
"Voice," Helfist ranted from the ground. Maeva realized he was talking at the exact same time as the astropath was, saying the exact same words. Their voices compounded as they spoke simultaneously.
"Voice of the dark one! The dark god speaks! The dark god laughs!"
"Helfist, hold in there." Aevar and Croan jumped to the Rune Priest. They held him down as he thrashed in pain.
"Laughter," the astropath hissed. "He's laughing at us!"
"Laughter?" Maeva demanded. "Who th' fuck is laughin'? What 'r they laughin' 'bout?"
"Just one thing over and over again," the Emperor said, wiping away her bloody nose.
"'Just as planned.'"