Unknown Enemy Vessel, Reznor System, 999.M41 12 days after 'The Saint's awakening'
Letty Cudan, Kasrkin Acting Lieutenant and Weapons Specialist, 9th squad, 1st Company, 129th Cadian Regiment
"Any hostiles left in your section Lieutenant?" After receiving the 'All clear' hand signals from the two Kasrkin she had as spotters, Letty tapped her commbead to respond to Lieutenant Velex, who had arrived as part of the reinforcements shortly after the 'agreement' with the Xenos had been reached.
"No hostile targets Lieutenant, last sighting was five minutes ago. Assume they are focussed on the main gantry." Being seconded to a non-Cadian officer was something that she was trying her hardest not to take personally, especially as they were officially the same rank, but even if she was managing somewhat effectively then some of her men were far less subtle.
"Last assault has collapsed, Lord Potter has the few Xenos who surrendered in hand. Requesting two scout specialists to lead a recon unit forward. Determine whether the Xenos are done or just regrouping." Thankfully, Lieutenant Velex seemed to have noticed the unvoiced discontent and was giving the Kasrkin precedence in various specialist roles throughout the strike force and deferring to their better skills and training.
And given her own rank was temporary at best, Letty wasn't going to risk upsetting the one that was referred to as 'Lord Potter's Scion' amongst the Urthwart Refugees and assorted Guardsmen. There were already questions of why Velex hadn't been promoted to Captain or higher, even if only informally, and Letty assumed it was to avoid upsetting Captain Gratis and her fellow Kasrkin without giving her a chance to prove herself in battle.
"Understood Lieutenant, will bring two. Over and Out." Letty could have delegated the scouting role to someone else, but with the two Sergeants assigned to her detachments having more experience than her, it actually made more sense to leave them to manage the defences.
As if to prove her point, there were two men already moving towards her as she turned back to her men, both relatively young Cadians that were 'Whiters', having only just finished the additional training given to Kasrkin when they had been sent to Urthwart. They fell in behind her without a word, and they marched through the alien halls towards the Xenos ship's engine room.
Here and there were piled the bodies of the Xenos pirates, a reaping that Letty was sure measured into the thousands now, and for the most part her Kasrkin had been nothing more than supporting characters and labour to clear the bodies. Such a menial role was normally below that of a Kasrkin's skill level Letty thought to herself with a little ironic amusement, but when you walked with 'Angels' then mere humans could merely do what was asked of them.
And if any of her men disagreed, she would send them to talk with one of the Astartes directly about the issue.
As she thought that, the smile she had sported briefly disappeared as they passed by one of the Astartes in question, the unsettling feeling that many of the flame-embellished superhumans gave off washing over her. It was not the same feeling she got from the other Astartes that had walked amongst them since Urthwart, that they were like children to be protected but otherwise were beneath their interest in the greater scheme of the Imperium and its defence.
This was different, a mixture of stoic resolve and a strange coldness that felt like it came from beyond the grave, the smell of sulphur piercing the void-suit filters she was wearing such was it's pungency.
Still, the Astartes offered no opposition to their passage, and the three of them continued through the strange hallways at pace to where Letty knew that Lord Potter and his cadre held. The sounds of gunfire barked out once more as she caught sight of Lieutenant Velex's Command station, a Xenos guard post stationed just outside the entrance to the engine rooms.
But it was not from the Command station that the gunfire blazed, and other than the occasional stray projectile striking high on the walls or roof the area was almost calm. The reason for this became clear as they reached the intersection with the gantry, Letty signalling for the other two to stack up as she checked around the corner, her voidsuit struggling to deaden the deafening sounds of bolter fire and… laughter?
"By the Emperor…" There were two squads of Lieutenant Velex's Praefects sheltering in defensive positions about 30 yards in front of her, but the focus of the fight was on the three figures that stood in the middle of the gantry like living bastions, Flashing shields of electric blue and dark purple indicating the weight of fire coming towards them. The tallest of them loomed protectively next to the smallest, bolter spitting single shots of death at any who would attempt to harm his charge, but it was the other two figures that were commanding the battlefield.
While the lightning and visible shield of ethereal energy surrounding Lord Potter was obvious, as he cast down almost a dozen of the Xenos with a bolt of red energy that reminded Letty of the monstrous Nova Cannons used by some of the more venerable Leman Russ Tanks on Cadia, the ghostly and flickering third figure almost seemed to dance from one side of the gantry to another without crossing the intervening space. And for some reason, despite the clear target in front of them in the form of Lord Potter and his bodyguard, the Xenos were strangely focussed on targeting the shadowy figure to exception of almost anything else.
Though as their Xenos 'ally' let out another peal of laughter that sounded both melodious and terrifying at the same time, the fact that more than half of the remaining enemies dropped without any visible sign of injury or attack showed that they might have been prioritising her for a reason.
"Impressive, isn't it?" Lieutenant Velex came over the vox, though Letty could barely hear her despite it being directly in her ear.
"I'm recording this with every helmet-picter we have, just in case any of the lads get any stupid ideas about messing with our new 'friend'. I've already had one idiot with a bright idea and a 'misfired' lasgun, and while he's still breathing whatever the Xenos did to him meant we had to strap him down to stop him clawing out his own eyes." That was remarkably cruel but restrained, the scattered stories of the Eldar and their cruelty had painted a darker picture than even the Ecclesiarchy Priests had been able to manage.
The Xenos pirates that the duo of psykers were currently slaughtering did fit the picture of sadistic psychopaths they were extolled to be, but the way this Hesperax spoke of them made it clear they were different factions at the very least. Whether this meant the Ynnari, at least that is what Letty assumed they were called, were any better was a different question. And one that Letty was more than happy to leave for others to answer at this point.
"These Xenos are a lot less cowardly than previous bands. The Astartes must nearly be here. Have your men ready Lieutenant, reports from The Chariot are that the Space Station is getting closer and not responding to any hails. Orders are to withdraw before it can reach weapons range, though someone will have to be the one to tell the Lord Commander." It took a moment for Letty to realise who Velex was referring to, the title one that had been awarded to The Psyker to recognise his position of leadership even if he didn't seem to want or need it.
"Not!"
"Not!"
"No… Damn it!" That moment of uncertainty cost Letty, as the two Whiters carried out the traditional Imperial Guard game of 'Not it'.
As she turned to berate them for assuming such a method of assigning duties would work, she noticed they'd even done the Cadian version, two fingers of the left hand to the forehead. While she could still pull rank and send one of them to talk with the terrifying psyker who could level a company of Kasrkin with an absent thought, Letty knew that ignoring such traditions wouldn't be good for morale or getting the other Kasrkin to follow her orders going forward.
And it wasn't like The Psyker would react too badly to the news, she reminded herself as the cascade of lights and powerful psychic energies began to die down, signalling that the attack was obviously dealt with and it would soon be safe to approach.
It was the Astartes Gallant and the Xenos witch that worried her, and Letty got the horrible feeling that those two weren't going to be leaving The Psyker's side for quite some time to come…
Unknown Space Station, Reznor System, 999.M41 13 days after 'The Saint's awakening'
Harry Potter, Master of Death
"Approaching the highlighted hangar now Lord Commander. No sign of defence activation, automated or otherwise, Praise the Emperor." Between the Legion of the Damned, a rather evocative name for his ethereal companions in Harry's opinion, Lady Hesperax and whatever forces she had brought aboard, and the shadowy companions of Harry's newest 'ally' the fighting aboard the slaver vessel had been over in an hour.
"It's Har… Merlin damn it, it's not going to matter. Communication with The Chariot of Fire still open?" Harry gave up halfway through what must have been the hundredth attempt to protest his latest 'honorary title', something he suspected Octus was behind as subtle revenge for the headache he had given them in the form of the scavenger forces still appearing on ramshackle vessels or individual aircraft.
This didn't mean that combat was entirely finished, despite Harry's 'diplomacy' with the stranded scavengers it had not lead to a cessation of raiding forces from among the battlefield wreckage, those who had abandoned their loyalties to the Imperium and instead acting as renegades or even full on cultists to the Chaos Gods revealing themselves from among the larger surviving 'clans'.
But between the 'loyal' scavengers and the surviving slaver prisoners, both from the larger vessel and the three other alien ships the Ynnari had boarded and captured, there were somewhere in the region of 40,000 people that were still being transported to The Chariot of Retribution and By His Grace.
The risk of traitors and other subversive elements meant that they would be quarantined for the next few weeks, but as Harry wasn't prepared to scan every single one of them there wasn't exactly a sure-fire method to root out all the potential risks.
Supposedly standard Imperium doctrine was to 'minimise the potential risk', which Harry assumed meant killing all of the scavengers or leaving without them. But he and Gerstahl had aligned in their opposition of such an action, the point about the need to reinforce their still skeleton crewed vessels helping to sway Octus if not Captain Rhys and the surviving frigate Captain.
"Yes my Lord. Magos Octus is maintaining regular contact to ensure there is no jamming taking place. We are also receiving regular communications from the… other ships in the area." The pilot's voice cracked as he addressed the presence of one of the only two other living beings aboard the vessel at the moment, who hadn't seemed to care that this was a very, very dangerous place to be.
The only message they'd received from the Space Station on it's ponderous approach was a set of what they assumed were ancient Imperial clearance codes and an offer to seek anchorage for all ships and come aboard. All attempts to raise a response had been seemingly ignored, and the fact that their scanners couldn't detect more than a few thousand scattered readings of life aboard had made pretty much everyone suspicious of a trap.
"Lady Hesperax checking to make sure I haven't driven you to the point that you might do something… rash. If I hadn't spent mil… quite some time developing my current image, I would be quite offended at her lack of belief in my understanding of the seriousness of this venture." Lady Veilwalker, as there was no way Harry was going to fall into the trap of addressing her more familiarly, was actually far less… difficult when it was effectively just the two of them than her initial encounter had implied.
It seemed his earlier warning/threat had some impact, but Harry also suspected it had something to do with whatever had caused them to seek him out in the first place.
"A venture that you refuse to elaborate on, which has something to do with this space station despite your best efforts to not indicate that in the slightest." It was an educated guess on Harry's part, but given the amount of resistance to his plan to board and scout the station alone, with portkeys that would activate to take him and the pilot to where The Last Word was waiting, it made a lot of sense.
"Or, that's what I wanted you to think so that I could get you alone for my. Own. Nefarious. Purpose…" The sensuous tone with which Lady Veilwalker enunciated those last words, punctuated by the laying of a gloved finger on his chest armour with each one, was so perfectly inflected and toned that it must have come from practice and experiences of a lifetime.
The fact that it was clearly not serious, having seen her already do something similar with both Lieutenant Cudan and Commissar Hawthorne (who seemed torn between a psychological breakdown and drawing his bolt pistol several times throughout their initial interaction), didn't mean that his hormones and sub-conscious realised as such.
"If you wanted to do that, I imagine you would have simply snuck aboard using your powers rather than being so obvious about it…" Thankfully, power armour covered the obvious signs of his reaction, even if it made things a little uncomfortable, but Lady Veilwalker seemed to somehow be able to tell as she stepped away with a lilting giggle.
"Given how protective some of your followers were, especially…" Lady Veilwalker paused for a second, clearly censoring herself in a manner that was at odds with the warnings the Ynnari leader had given him both before and after the slaver battle, waving a hand in the air dismissively.
"Apologies… Spoilers. But you are correct, I feel that there is something aboard this station that will be of great interest to you and the Ynnari alike, and that my presence will accelerate it's discovery…" While delivered in the same half-dreamy half-sarcastic tone Lady Veilwalker usually used, Harry got the feeling that not only was what she said entirely accurate, but that it was almost physically painful for her to be so open.
"So you're telling me this isn't a trap and we aren't about to be shot down? Good to know." Receiving a non-committal 'maybe/maybe not' gesture, which he took as a sign 'the moment' was over and done with, Harry took the opportunity to step forwards and look out of the cockpit windows at the hangar they were entering.
Compared to the docking stations on either side of it, each of which could have fitted the By His Grace inside easily, the hangar was tiny. But as the pilot maneuvered amongst half a dozen massive aircraft before setting itself down near the gigantic doors that would lead deeper into the ship, the sheer amount of space was boggling.
"Landing completed my lord. Basic scans are showing a very thin breathable atmosphere, but no life-signs that would indicate a human presence." The pilot also didn't mention the return of artificial gravity, which Harry had felt the moment they'd entered the hangar.
That was important, as the combination of that and the atmosphere implied there was someone or something aboard, even if they weren't showing off their presence yet.
"We will go and investigate further. Stay here, but be prepared to leave the moment we see any trouble. I have my own escape plan if required." The portkey really was the absolute last option, given he had no idea how the magic would work in this universe, but it was better than nothing and he had dozens of other ways of dealing with any trap whoever was aboard might throw at him.
"You mean Sir Dark and Broody might stop glaring at me to actually do something productive? Wonders never cease…" Brother Gallant had been an unmoving statue since boarding the Valkyrie and sitting down on the left hand side seat closest to the exit ramp.
"If I wanted to do something productive Xenos, I would have saved Lord Potter from having to put up with your incessant babbling. While I have been ordered not to kill you, I'm sure I could have figured out… something." The tone was so deadpan, even as Gallant moved to a crouched standing pose, that Harry couldn't tell whether the Astartes had actually been considering such actions the entire journey or not.
Judging by the way that Lady Veilwalker didn't immediately respond with a snarky comment, and out of the corner of his eye Harry saw her take a small step to better interpose Harry between herself and Gallant, she wasn't entirely sure either.
"Door opening in three, two, one." The ramp dropped down and a few moments later they were aboard, with Gallant taking the lead and moving to check the nearest Hangar bulkhead, leaving Harry to look around.
Despite his desire to go and investigate the aircraft, which dwarfed even the two Thunderhawks that were aboard The Chariot of Fire, Harry was paying more attention to the rest of his surroundings. For a Space Station in the middle of battlefield wreckage that their best estimate measured in 100,000's of kilometers, the hangar interior was in remarkable shape and clearly maintained as such.
There was no obvious battle damage, no strewn equipment or signs of combat, or even the corpse remnants of the former crew. Even the architecture was different, far less dark and gothic, even with the lack of lighting to properly illuminate it.
"Connecting your Armour to The Chariot of Fire Comms system now my Lord, they should be able to view your helmet Picter in a few moments." Given the clear level of technological stagnancy more than self-evident in the Imperial bureaucracy, Harry had been more than slightly surprised to find out they even had such capacity for near-instantaneous stellar communications that would work with his power armour.
"We are connected, Pilot Thorne. Lord Potter, do you read?" Nodding his head even as he saw Gallant reach the bulkhead access panel, Harry spoke a moment later to ensure he was clear.
"Signal is strong, Octus. We are aboard the Space station without incident, but there isn't really anything to indicate either a welcome party or a trap." Doing a slow scan from one side of the hangar to the other, to allow those watching from The Chariot a chance to get a good reading, Harry paused looking at the nearest aircraft when Octus gave a clicking breath that he now recognised as excitement.
"Stormbird class aircraft, variant difficult to ascertain from footage, clearly not the craft meant for hangar given modifications made to mooring clamps. Ponderous but powerful, large transport capacity, I have not seen one outside of the ancient reports from the Imperium's glorious rise. Such craft alone would increase capability of launching ground assaults by approximately 30%, though to store them aboard The Chariot would require..." The sound of Octus' babbling dropped off as he either moved away from the communicator or was led away, though he was swiftly replaced with others.
"Lord Potter, this is Captain Gratis. I have a company of Kasrkin and several mixed squads of Guardsmen on transports, ready to reinforce you, awaiting your signal. Brother Cassiel and the other Astartes are aboard the Battleship Advocate to meet with these Astral Knight Astartes. It was considered prudent to let the Emperor's Angels act as first contact given the bodies recovered from the Xenos Slaver vessel." Stepping along the length of the now named Stormbird as Gratis spoke, Harry couldn't help but feel the ship was somehow watching him, but he shook it off as his paranoia at the current situation.
"Let's see if we can provoke a reaction first, one way or another. I assume Colonel Gerstahl is busy with the refugees?" Gerstahl had been one of the more insistent to accompany Harry on this little soiree, having not been involved in either the storming of the slaving vessel or dealing with the differing clans of scavengers beyond some vox-casts.
But his ability to both heal and inspire faith were powerful weapons that were more useful aboard The Chariot than here, especially if he could somehow help with rooting out any 'derisive elements' as Octus had termed them.
"He is my lord. I will now go remind the Magos of his responsibilities here, and we will notify you if we note anything of interest that requires closer study, or if we detect any major change in the station's readings." Readings that would probably mean a hasty retreat was required, if possible at all.
"Understood Captain, good luck." The Captain was a good man, no nonsense with far more focus on his duty to the Imperium and the Emperor than any zealous fervor.
But as they had all discovered during the time in the warp, when Octus or one of the other Tech-priests got into one of these states, it was almost impossible to snap them out of it without potentially triggering a violent subconscious reaction.
"There is power to the bulkhead controls, and the cogitators are not resisting my attempts to access them." Gallant's call, where he was working away at the side of the bulkhead, brought Harry's focus back to the current situation even as Lady Veilwalker appeared off to his side.
"I believe this is indeed the place we are meant to travel. It is a pity a previous dancer of mine wasn't able to make the journey here. He would find the revelations of what we are to uncover here very, very interesting indeed. Though I suppose he has his own Magnum Opus to unveil..." Despite her dreamy tone, Lady Veilwalker seemed almost excited by the anticipation of what was to come.
"You still speak in riddles Xenos, I remember my Lord threatening retribution in the form of humiliation if you continued to do so." Gallant tossed a single dismissive glance over his shoulder as he spoke, even as the screen he was working on turned green and with an almost deafening hiss the bulkhead split in two, opening remarkably well despite it's Millenia of minimal if any use.
"And you thought to give me a warning to protect my dignity? You do care, noble Gallant!" Some of Lady Veilwalker's confidence seems to have returned, though even she seemed to be taking things more seriously as she spoke with far less exuberance than her line could have used, her staff gripped firmly in one hand as they all moved from the hangar.
The bulkhead was one of two titanic doors, separated by at least a metre in the middle that Harry could only assume was the thickness of the ship's interior armour. The 'corridor' that they entered was wider than any motorway that Harry remembered seeing on Earth, at least 40 metres wide and stretching off into the distance either way, with access ramps on either side going both up and down to what Harry assumed were other road routes that served as access to the main hangars.
Every 200 metres or so were massive slabs that made the bulkhead they had just passed through look like a child's imitation of a door, hanging ominously about 10-12 metres in the air like guillotines ready to swing. Clearly these would serve to protect interior sections if the hangar was breached to the vacuum, or if the internal armour was similarly damaged.
Unlike the hangar they landed in, here there were clear signs of damage, with several of the massive doors showing signs of extensive repair and patching work, in places the repaired damage covering more of the frame than the original material. The work was plainly if masterfully done, no more clearly than on the corridor floor and walls, which were repaired in large sections that Harry could only guess came from internal fighting based on the spread and extent.
"Tracked vehicles passed this way, regularly and recently. There is also a sign of foot traffic, but this is harder to determine. Activity that way, distance unknown." Gallant was truly in 'war mode' now, bolter up and ready as he gestured to their left.
It took several moments, as the opening bulkhead created considerable noise that echoed through his senses, but then Harry could indeed make out the noises that Gallant had indicated.
There were regular sounds of metal slamming into metal, like a blacksmith would at an anvil, but it was too regular for such a human interaction and for them to hear it from this distance meant the scale would be incorrect as well. Now that Harry thought about it, it was like the mechanical clocks he had seen in Diagon Alley more than once, featuring a man with an excessively large hammer to announce the chiming of the hours.
"Repair activity, and not done by living hands. Some of those grotesque half men cyborgs you humans like to use?" Lady Veilwalker's comments brought a noise of agreement from Gallant a moment later, though from the tone in his voice as he spoke it had physically hurt him to do so.
"Possible, likely even. Though they are either attempting to repair this area to improve our opinion of the station's readiness." Harry finished Gallant's thoughts as they moved down the corridor at a slow jog, the arcing lights ahead of them showing multiple humanoid figures as horrific visages on the far side of the causeway they were working on.
"Or the station is far less secure than we initially assumed and fighting is ongoing." If that was the case, then Harry hoped whoever they were approaching was the friendly side of whatever conflict was taking place.
Some of the damage on the floors and walls were larger than the Chimera tanks the Kasrkin used for transportation, and seemed to have occurred from a single blast or impact. The three of them continued down the passageway with far more caution now, Harry silencing their footsteps and the major sounds coming from his and Gallant's armour while Lady Veilwalker cast one of her spells that seemed to surround them in shadows, despite the fact they were in the middle of a relatively well lit corridor.
Such was the scale of the corridor that it took three minutes for them to approach close enough to see the workers, and while most of them were simple Servitors as Lady Veilwalker had guessed, three were hulking walkers who loomed over their humanoid brethren.
Each was probably twice the size of Gallant, and wider than him by the same if not a wider margin, crimson red paint marked with the scars of battle and worn by the passage of time covering the majority of their bulky chassis armour. Two of the giant machines were working on replacing a piece of the floor in the passageway, literally pounding the massive piece of metal they were carrying to fit in the required space before the servitors moved in with what looked like welding and cutting gear. The last stood facing away from them, clearly on guard as it rotated its upper body from side to side like a turret.
"Lord Potter. Don't move any closer." Unlike before, where Octus had been almost filled with childlike wonder at the discovery of the Stormbirds or rambling on a scientific tangent as his attention wandered, there was a cold edge to his voice and a directness of tone that reminded Harry the Tech-priest had been a member of the Inquisition as well as captain of a ship.
Grabbing Lady Veilwalker rather bodily by the shoulder, though thankfully she didn't raise issue with the manhandling, Harry indicated with his other hand for Gallant to stop as well which he did without a word or query.
"I'd prefer that, if there was something for us to worry about, we wouldn't be standing in the middle of a giant open causeway." His rather exasperated hint to elaborate was seemingly received, though the fact his armour HUD suddenly zoomed in on one of the larger robots made Harry regret letting the Tech-priest have a look at it before they left to invade the pirate vessel.
"Those are Kastelan robots, and they bare the mark of the Mechanicum…" Someone said something on the other end of the vox, and though Harry couldn't make it out, Octus' frustrated response made it clear that they'd asked something similar to what he'd been thinking.
"Not the Adeptus Mechanicus, the Mechanicum, see the skull in the cog has no separating line and the encompassing cog has 16 teeth rather than 20. This is the original organisation that survived the Dark Age of Technology and predates the founding of the Imperium, before the folly of the Fabricator General in the Heresy led to its abolishment into the Adeptus Mechanicus. Kastelan are relic weapons from that age, powerful far beyond the mocking shadows the Legio Mechanicus can manufacture in these dark times." The fact that Octus' voice was tinged with awe, frustration and a little bit of fear made Harry understand that what was being uttered was as much myth and hearsay as it was fact.
"And the reason you don't want us moving any closer? If these are human robots, even if they predate the Imperium as you suggest, then it stands to reason…" Harry cut off as there was a now familiar screeching from one of the nearby access ramps, dozens of small tyranid creatures led by a trio of the large warrior beasts appearing and throwing themselves in the direction of the robots.
The Tyranids didn't seem to have much of a plan beyond swarming into close combat, and given Octus' warnings Harry suspected they hadn't brought enough forces to the party to do so effectively.
"Halt and offer blood for testing! Halt and… Distance parameter violated!" The Castelan on guard had already moved from it's guard position to block the advancing Tyranids, the large gun mounted on its back spewing several glowing white orbs in amongst the charging horde, exploding on impact and sticking to those hit in a manner that reminded Harry worryingly of fiendfyre.
"Kastelans are designed to follow only specific sets of orders, and they will carry them out to the letter and until their orders change. And I see no tech-priest nearby that would be in charge of them, so the best case scenario is that they are programmed to protect the servitors from anything that approaches them as they work. Though this mention of blood… intriguing." The other two robots had moved quickly to join the fight, one bathing the advancing Tyranids in gouts of flame while another reduced a Tyranid warrior's thorax to pulp with a single blow of its fists.
"And the worst case scenario?" Harry wasn't 100% sure he actually wanted to hear it, but given they'd been called here, best he knew the potential traps that awaited them.
"The worst case is that these Kastelans aren't simply running off programming anymore… that they have become self aware and can actually think for themselves…" Oh good, self-aware murder bots, just what Harry wanted to encounter after everything else today…
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Main gate to Kasr Stark, Cadia Secundus, 999.M41 23 days after 'The Saint's awakening'
Ursarkar Creed, Lord Castellan of Cadia, Colonel of the Cadian 8th Regiment 'The Lord Castellan's Own'
Acrid smoke assaulted his nostrils and stung his eyes, but Lord Castellan Ursarkar Creed was not only used to such a phenomenon, this smelled of hard fought and bloodied victory. A massive Chaos fleet, landing forces including Traitor Astartes from more than a dozen warbands and swarms of heretics and mutants that numbered beyond any's capability to count, cast back from Cadia's Bastions and defences despite the treachery of the Volscani Cataphracts.
The strategic part of his mind suspected this was but a temporary respite, a short pause before the true storm came to break upon his bedraggled forces, though he did not give voice to these dark premonitions as he cast his gaze down on the men of the 403rd Cadian regiment.
"There were those that said that we would fail here, like the traitors of the Volscani Cataphracts, whose cowardice was only matched by their misplaced belief that heresy would save them from their overdue judgement." It was hardly an inspiring start to a speech, but fiery rhetoric and platitudes of faith were not what had won the day today, so Creed would leave such to the Ecclesiarchy and focus on what he found inspired people.
"Such folly didn't succeed at the Tyrok Fields, and many of them didn't even have the guts to stand and fight for their false gods, running like the craven dogs they are to be hunted down and cleansed by men of purer faith and greater resolve." Like the surviving members of the Cataphracts 3rd company, now for the most part in the process of being purged from the ruins of Kasr Stark, who had followed their Captain first into damnation and then into flight.
The 403rd had performed admirably in pursuing the traitors and delivering the justice owed by those they had betrayed, especially given they were newly blooded conscripts from the 13th 'raising' of that particular regiment.
"Blood was owed, honour blemished by actions not of your own. You men can now proudly say that you have ensured the debt owed to Cadia by these heretics has been paid in full!" There was a mumbled cheer at this, the men understanding that despite the words and accolades laid at their feet, the price that had been paid had been steep and no cause for raucous celebration.
"Now we must work to rebuild Cadia, to restore it to the triumphant bastion that serves as the bedrock against which all traitors will break. Each and everyone of you, from the youngest conscript to the oldest veteran, must do your utmost to aid in the reclamation and rebuilding effort. Because Cadia is not just it's fortresses and walls of stone and metal, it's cannons and silos of death and destruction." At this point, Creed gestured outward with both arms as he reached the climax of the planned speech, making sure to look down and into the ranks of the 403rd so that they could see the resolve and belief in his eyes.
"It is the grit and determination of the men and women of the Imperial Guard that are why the traitors have been cast from this world again and again. We stand, and will continue to stand against the darkness, in all shapes and forms. Together we will ensure now, and for all time, that Cadia Stands!" This time, the assembled Guardsmen were far more enthusiastic in their response, shouts and bellows of 'Cadia Stands' drowning out the sounds of the repair works and cries of the captured Volscani.
Creed could even hear the cry continuing, carried further and stronger by each Cadian that heard it, a show of both the strength of faith but also a sign of its barely hidden fragility.
A look towards the banner of the 8th Cadian regiment, and more importantly the knowing look of Colour Sergeant Jarran Kell as his closest confidant looked down on the cheering ranks, showed that his bodyguard was quite pleased to have been proven right once again.
Given the upheaval in the aftermath of the Tyrok Fields massacre, it had been all too easy for Creed to be caught up in the overwhelming whirlwind of paperwork and bureaucracy that came with trying to manage a world at war on a scale rarely seen in the Imperium, pushing back the near endless forces of heretics and traitor Astartes that assailed loyal positions and preventing greater strategic losses than strictly necessary to achieve victory.
It had been Kell, whose understanding of men and morale was in its own way as valuable as the strategic and tactical prowess that Creed was alleged to possess, who had warned of the risks associated with such a distant approach. The need for Creed's presence, down amongst the masses that many of his most senior officers did their best to avoid, was something that he had discounted initially as an exercise in vanity that served no practical purpose.
But as the 403rd fell out a vigour seemed to take hold, that was more suited to fresh troops rather than battle weary combatants, squads moving off at a run where many would have walked or marched. It didn't bring back the dead, or provide him the men and materials that he so desperately needed, but it was something that no competent leader of men could overlook.
"What news of the Trail of Faith?" But just because Kell had been right didn't mean that Creed could ignore the events happening beyond the local concerns of Cadia Secundus, such was the burden of being the Lord Castellan.
In fact, the only reason he'd been able to attend this speech in the first place, rather than being stuck trying to force the orbiting Imperial Navy ships that were still capable of long range travel to go and check on the rest of the planets in the system, had been the sudden and unexpected arrival of the frigate in question.
It was only because it was recognised as one of the ships that had been sent to investigate Urthwart, and the ship's report of another Chaos armada in addition to the one that had beset them here, that it hadn't been blown from the sky on its arrival. But the reports Creed had briefly glanced through on the flight over here hadn't given a clear understanding of what intel could be gleaned from the ship.
The two of them stepped onto the waiting Valkyrie, with half a dozen junior officers already aboard and processing incoming vox-calls to summarise when he was ready. Kell handed over a document that he'd been reading as Creed gave his speech, the veteran's face twisted into an uncertain grimace.
"If it weren't for the fact the Captain had vid footage of most of his more outlandish claims, I'd be certain they'd just run away in the face of the armada facing them. It's not like they could have done much against the Planet-Killer after all. News of the Planet-Killer isn't exactly great news, but it means we know what the focus needs to be on in terms of building defences. Magos Klarn is already at work." Creed nodded even as he skimmed the pages of notes and pictures in front of him, for all he detested diverting resources from repairing the fortifications and other defences, he and his men needed an enemy they could actually fight and solid ground beneath their feet to fight them on.
"And these claims? An Imperial Saint being aboard the ship that assisted in their escape? Some kind of stealth ship and a Psyker Inquisitor going unannounced other than as a healer?" Creed normally wouldn't care for such rumours, especially as none of the Frigate's crew had actually encountered either individual and merely were relying on scuttlebutt, but the nature of the Trail of Faith's arrival…
"The possession of their Astropath after they lost contact with the other ships?" The man hadn't shown any signs of the possession, but had guided them through the unrelenting maelstrom the warp had become around Cadia with what seemed like practised ease, before collapsing into spasms and shrieking fits the moment they had arrived back in real space.
If it weren't for the clearly arcane scroll that had materialised on his lap, spelling out his possession along with another word that drew dread deep from where it rested in Creed's soul, this would have been passed off as a miracle of the Emperor among the masses.
Kell seemed to mull his response over for a second or two, which given the complexity of the question was only right.
"There is little for the forces of Chaos to gain from what their arrival and warning of a Blackstone Fortress tells us, in fact it only strengthens our forces as it means the Navy doesn't need to perform such a perilous recon mission themselves. The scroll is even more confusing, for it ruins any chance that we would believe that the ship's survival was luck or the Emperor's guidance." Something the masses may have believed, given the restricted nature of the information about the astropath's possession.
But Creed could see the purpose of the scroll more clearly than Kell or even the Navy Officers could. Because he did not, could not maintain the inherent level of faith that they possessed in the Emperor's guidance. So the scroll removed the suspicion he would have maintained about their survival in the back of his mind, making the ship merely a guaranteed risk to be isolated rather than a dangerous unknown.
"The workings of Demons and the Ilk are fickle and treacherous, it would not be the first time one demon has conspired against their own. For whatever purpose such a warning would serve the foul being, we cannot afford to dismiss the knowledge out of hand." The Trail of Faith would still need to be isolated, in case the taint of chaos or the plague from Urthwart pervaded deeper into the ship than was obvious, but such was the dearth of willing bodies and serviceable fighting ships that even one so battle worn and at risk of heresy needed to be maintained.
"Give the order! The Trail of Faith and any other warp capable vessels are to head towards St Josmane's Hope with all speed. The world is to be evacuated and as many prisoners as possible to be brought here to assist in the rebuilding process." The prison world in the outer regions of the Cadia system had been, for the most part, ignored by Chaos Armada as they forged a path to Cadia Secundus.
Creed had long suspected that such an action showed that the armada that had assailed them had been acting under orders, rather than being led by the 'mastermind' Abaddon. Lord Marcus Porelska, the Governor Primus of Cadia who fell at Tyrok Fields, had decreed that there would be no moving of the prisoners from the planet. Ostensibly this was to reduce the risk of further disruption from the prisoners, as the subversive Corrective Rehabilitation Movement had been working to undermine Imperial control and authority amongst the populace.
Creed had instead suspected such inaction was simply to prevent the Governor from dealing with the various Cadian regiments that had been posted to the prison world for various perceived slights of one type or another. Having been almost sidelined for his disagreements with the Governor Primus' so called 'strategy', and treated to all of the unpleasant pettiness that even the elite of Cadia could stoop to, it was but prideful wastage Creed endeavoured to prevent continuing.
"Understood My Lord! Wolf Lords Bloodhowl and Highfell await you at Kras Kraf, Lord Bloodhowl wishes to discuss what you intend for the coming assaults and where his Astartes may best serve." It was certainly different dealing with the Space Wolves as the primary contacts for the Astartes forces based on Cadia, despite their somewhat barbaric and feral appearance the two Wolf Lords were far more approachable than many of the Astartes Creed had worked alongside before.
Supposedly Governor Porelska had struggled with the fact the Space Wolves didn't play the political games he and his favourites like to dabble in, something that anyone who had met pretty much any Astartes could have told him. Politics amongst Space Marines tended to be settled for the most part with drawn blades or bare knuckle duels rather than attempts at cunning and intrigue.
"Then let's not keep them waiting. Pilot, to Kras Kraf!" With the instruction given, Creed let his head rest back and closed his eyes, fully intending to grab every minute of sleep that the short journey would allow him.
Prolonged rest was already something of a half-remembered fantasy, and Creed knew that it would only get even more elusive in the days and weeks to come.
A/N: And so the first of Tzeentch's 13 scrolls is revealed… And you'd all thought that was something of a side-story/bit of fluff!
The majority of the forces committed to Cadia, at least in all the main lore, are dedicated to Khorne, Nurgle or Slaanesh. There is very little obvious input from Tzeentch forces other than the work of various sorcerer Cabals to interdict the Cadian Sector from Astropathic messaging and easy warp travel, so I do get the feeling that Tzeentch was a lot less invested in Abaddon's crusade.
Now, this can be explained by Ahriman being the primary adversary of the Ynnari and Kairos jumping in after certain events on Ultramar (I would say spoilers, but if it is then you will have so little 40K knowledge that Roboute as a name probably means very little), but that doesn't feel right.
Besides, even when the mortal forces of Chaos are 'united', I like the idea of the Gods themselves being far more fractious. Besides, if the Imperium falls, where will all the wonderful plotting and scheming come from then?
Anyway, enough focusing on the last 1000 words. Hopefully everyone enjoyed the showcase of Harry and Sylandri's psyker powers on the poor Drukhari, and I hope everyone saw the difference in how the two apply their powers. This will be touched on more in future chapters.
I've been mulling long and hard as to what I want the space station to be, both in terms of capability and potential plot and I have finally allowed myself to be drawn in a particular direction.
There are certain hints in the chapter, but for the most part you will all be learning at the same time as Harry, so hopefully I haven't ruined the surprise for anyone.
Anyway, let me know what you think everyone.
Happy New Year All!
