Diem Infamia Chapter 11

The Tectum system spun on as it always had. A G-type star orbited by two gas giants and millions of free-floating asteroids, it had been thus since before the rise of mankind, back to the distant epochs of deep time when races older and more powerful than any could comprehend had struggled for dominance. In Material terms the stellar system was unchanging and serene, yet in the Empyreal dimensions underpinning reality the Warp seethed with anticipation. Currents and flows were disturbed and unusual tides gathered while Neverborn creatures flocked in great numbers, eager for the feast to come.

Across the system people slept fitfully, their dreams troubled by formless nightmares. They sweated in terror only to wake and forget their troubles, left only with a vague sense of undefined anxiety, like there was something important they had forgotten. For the psychically gifted the pain was more acute, in the dungeons of the Inquisition prisoners screamed their nightmares over and over, each detail recorded meticulously by unsympathetic interrogators. Elsewhere Astropaths struggled to push messages through the Warp, dying at an even faster rate than usual. Navigators frowned in consternation as their vision became clouded, the distant beacon of the Astronomican flickering like a candle in a storm. In another age these warning signs may have been heeded by those who knew of such things but this was the age of darkness and the savants of the Imperium concluded that the Warp was building for a fresh round of Storms. They could not have been more wrong.

On the very edge of the Tectum system an armada was gathering, hundreds of slab-sided warships coming together as one. There were sleek escorts, eager for the kill, running ahead of proud and haughty cruisers. Immense battleships ploughed through space, their guns promising certain death, as shoals of strike craft billowed everywhere. Rickety assault barges came in their wake, holds bursting with cultist hordes. Meanwhile Helldrakes clung to the undersides of warships, leeching power from the hulls like vampire bats. The conventional power of this fleet was immense, the might of a Legion made manifest, yet it was made far more deadly by the immaterial forces on display. Many ships were twisted in form, shaped into new configurations by the Dark Gods of Chaos. Fleshy hulls bulged while tentacles waved, impossible mouths gnashed and eyes blinked at the cold stars.

In the centre of the fleet rode the Cruenta Caeda, a surprisingly average cruiser in this formation of massed power. She sailed serenely, smugly ignoring all other ships, for she was the flagship of this armada, the heart and soul of all. Upon her spine was an observation blister, where one could look out at the stars and under that armourglass dome Kasarox was standing. His expression was inscrutable but his claw twitched ceaselessly, indicating his excitement.

Kasarox had overseen the gathering of this armada, each ship slipping through the jump points unnoticed and slowly gathering at a pre-arranged rendezvous. It had taken weeks, but at last they were ready and had begun their push towards the Imperial holdings. Kasarox could feel eagerness bubbling in his hearts, the chance to punish the hated Imperium mixed with the pulsing beat of the Blood God's gift, but he kept it in check. His mind was a finely tuned machine and he had calculated this assault to the last detail, nothing had been left to chance. The False Emperor's minions would fall, Chaos would ascend and Kasarox would rise on wings of fire.

His smug reflection was cut short by a twin-voice remarking, "You think we brought enough ships?"

Another voice, deeper and more aggressive, retorted, "This is the greatest concentration of might the Crooked Path has ever seen, we will slaughter the weakling Imperials."

Kasarox turned about and saw Raruma and Burronox looking upwards, the pair joining him to observe the armada. Kasarox knew they were as eager as he for the fray but he cautioned them, "Do not take anything for granted, the Imperials won't go down without a fight."

Raruma's faceplate leered as he said, "If they fight or not doesn't matter, they will be slaughtered."

Kasarox scowled in vexation and spat, "Assumptions are as much an enemy as any other foe. Don't be fooled, we shall be fighting a Primarch."

Burronox spat angrily, "Roboute Guilliman, that self-righteous martinet. You may not have been born then but I remember Calth and Monarchia. That cur must die for his insults to our Legion!"

Kasarox glared at him and hissed, "Hate him, but do not underestimate him, he has a vast fleet at his disposal and his new brand of Space Marines. Not to mention the Macragge's Honour. Kor Phaeron made the mistake of underestimating that ship once and paid the price. A mistake I do not intend to repeat."

Raruma didn't sound concerned, he never did, as he commented, "That's why we brought the Shadow."

All eyes flickered upwards to where a truly gargantuan battleship cruised by, a Glorianna class monster with a forked prow. It was hugely impressive but Burronox muttered, "I'm surprised the snakes turned up."

Kasarox mused out loud, "They must want Guilliman dead as much as we do."

Burronox spat, "You aren't concerned they might betray us?"

Kasarox snorted, "They are Alpha Legion, of course they will betray us, it is their nature. But not before they get what they want."

Burronox muttered, "You better be right, we already have enough to worry about with Abulaz."

Suddenly there was a soft cough from the entrance and Kasarox turned to see a snivelling Helot cowering there, crying, "Forgive me lords!"

Kasarox turned angrily and spat, "What is it?"

The pathetic wretch whined, "Mighty Abulaz commands your presence at once."

Kasarox growled through his teeth, this was the last thing he needed, and he hissed, "By the Dark Gods, he couldn't just stay in his cave. Raruma, come with me and try to keep your mouth shut. Burronox… kill this wretch and make it slow."

The helot started in horror, "What?! But why?!"

Kasarox strode past him and growled, "You were stupid enough to bring me bad news."

Sudden screams followed the pair as they departed and headed deeper into the ship. They passed various compartments where helots laboured in chain gangs to operate the ancient mechanisms of the ship. Elsewhere sacrificial shrines squatted, dominated by bubbling cauldrons of blood, and priests in black robes. Those blessed with mutations of Chaos knelt before them, offering up their lifeblood to feed the cauldrons and so attract Neverborn to inhabit the ship's systems. Kasarox paid it no mind as he headed deeper and deeper, the ways of Chaos being intimately familiar to him.

He saw many of his fellow Word Bearers on the way, some looking upon him with scorn, others giving him sly nods. The contrast was stark, those who favoured him over their Dark Apostle against those who thought he was scum. The obvious ratio vexed Kasarox greatly; he did not have the undivided loyalty of the Crooked Path, which meant an open challenge for leadership was impossible. If he wanted Abulaz deposed he would have to be sly. His claw stabbed pain into his arm, the gift of Khorne sneering at any plan other than blood-soaked carnage, but he ignored it, he intended to become a master, not a servant.

Soon they reached a vast chamber in the heart of the Cruenta Caede, a rift cut into the heart of the ship and lined with pulsing machinery. Kasarox emerged half-way up, over a great black chasm bridged by silver spans. The walls glowed with fiery runes and flashes of red light jumped about overhead. There was a sense of immense power here, the energies of Chaos made manifest and one felt like a mouse lost in a factorum, the feeling that one misstep would lead to oblivion.

The silver spans came together in the dead centre of the chasm and there floated a crackling red sphere of light, suspended over nothingness without support. In the heart of that sphere hung a jagged red crystal, one that pulsed with an inner fire. The Fulgar Vitrum, font of all that transpired in this place and power source for the Daemon Maw Cannon. Standing before that ball of light was the Dark Apostle Abulaz. He had a bald head, inked with scriptures of Chaos that carried on down his armour and a cloak of flayed skin while the Book of Lorgar rested upon his belt and a Black Crozius was held in his hand. He projected authority and power, an aura of presence that made one want to prostrate and beg to hear his enlightened words. Kasarox had come to understand that was a deliberate effect, a glamour he wore like his armour, but that didn't make it any easier to overcome.

The pair strode up to Abulaz and fell to their knees, pressing their heads to the silver span. Such displays of crude authority offended Kasarox but he knew he had to play the part of dutiful servant a little longer. Abulaz was tactically inept but unfortunately was a powerful sorcerer; direct confrontation was not an option.

Kasarox waited a moment then said, "Mighty Lord, you summoned us."

Abulax didn't seem to be listening as he stared at the Fulgar Vitrum and whispered, "Such power, such might. It is mind-boggling."

Kasarox bit down on a snide retort and said, "My lord?"

Abulaz, "With such might I could become a god, if only I could claim it."

At that Raruma spoke up, "Do you two want some time alone?"

Kasarox bit his lip in frustration but Abulaz finally blinked and turned about. He saw them kneeling and said, "Stand up and report."

Kasarox rose to his feet and declared, "The armada is assembled and ready. We proceed to the naval base as planned."

Abulaz accepted this but said, "First I wish to test our new weapon, divert course to the lesser gas giant."

Kasarox gritted his teeth, there it was, Abulaz's constant interference that had ruined so many wars. The Unhallowed chose his words carefully and explained, "Mighty Lord, our plans are set in motion. We are on a strict schedule."

Abualz glowered and his aura deepened around him. Kasarox knew it was a spell compelling obedience but the force of it nearly bowled him over as the Dark Apostle roared, "You dare question me?!"

Kasarox kept his feet through sheer will as he replied, "I only seek to serve you. Years have been spent putting the faithful in the right places; civilian ships have been captured and despatched to clear our way. Our converts will strike at the ordained hour, whether we are in position or not."

Abulaz sneered in reply, "Your plan is flawed Unhallowed, It depends on a weapon built by the Alpha Legion. I will not trust those snakes one jot. We will test the Daemon Maw upon a lesser target before we commit to a major assault. This is my will."

Kasarox had no choice but to lower his head and say, "As you command."

Abulaz eyed him and said, "You think me blind, don't you?"

Kasarox froze at that and his mind raced, what did the Dark Apostle know? What did he suspect? The Unhallowed swallowed nervously and deflected, "My lord?"

Abulaz gestured at his claw and said, "Millennia of service without gifts and in only a few years you receive blessings beyond measure. You bring me the Fulgar Vitrum, a crystallised Warp Rift, and fleets of ships from Kor Phaeron himself. You have found your ambition at last; you seek to join the order of Dark Apostles, as my apprentice."

Kasarox nearly sighed in relief, the fool thought he was trying to become an acolyte. Abulaz had no idea plans were in motion to unseat him. The Unhallowed lowered his head and said, "It is true, you lack a First Acolyte. I desire to become more than I am; I wish to sit at your right hand and know true power. I want to hold it in my hand, as you do."

Abulaz glanced at Raruma and said, "And you?"

The possessed Marine replied smoothly, "You will need a new Coryphaus."

The Dark Apostle accepted their lies without question and said, "Bring me victory and you shall be rewarded greatly. When I bring Guilliman's head to Kor Phaeron on a pike all past sins shall be forgiven. The Crooked Path shall rejoin the Legion proper and I shall sit on the Dark Council of the Legion."

Kasarox bowed and said, "With your permission, we shall make it so."

"Begone," Abulaz commanded, "And make sure my mediations are not disturbed again."

Kasarox was quite happy to let the Dark Apostle drool over his new toy and bowed low before turning to depart. The pair of them strode out, leaving Abulaz alone with the Fulgar Vitrum, as they returned to the conventional parts of the ship. Kasarox kept his head high and his pace measured but inside he was delighted, Abulaz suspected nothing of his plans.

Raruma noticed his merriment and as they walked he asked, "What are you so happy about?"

Kasarox replied, "Things are falling into place as I predicted."

Raruma sounded disbelieving as he said, "Didn't Abulaz just ruin all your careful scheming with his daft orders?"

"Please," Kasarox replied with a grin, "Do you think I didn't account for his idiocy? I've served him for millennia, so I knew he'd find some way to screw this up. I deliberately left a considerable margin for error in my timetable, we can complete his little side jaunt and still be in position with time to spare."

Raruma snorted, "Always with the plan, I knew there was a reason I liked you."

Kasarox stated confidently, "First we overrun the lesser planet, then we hit the big one. The Imperials will burn, Guilliman will die and Abulaz will get what's coming to him. Everything is proceeding exactly as I planned."