In the Eyes of Men
by FalconWind
Chapter Ten
"Lessons"
The dark figure approached the stunned group slowly, gracefully, almost as if he was gliding across the floor.
"Hold it!" ordered Sergeant Conrad, who raised his Lasgun out of instinct and practice, rather than common sense. He quickly realized that if the being had the power to suddenly appear from out of nowhere, he was probably just annoying it.
The being did stop, however. Though it was apparent the act was for Conrad's benefit. "Very well. Though I suggest you relax, sergeant. After all, if I did intend to attack, there is little any of you could do."
To this Calderon and Horandrin took up fighting stances, announcing their formidable presence.
"Oh, well, now. THEY can do something," he said rather comically. "But let me assure you, my friends, that I am not your enemy. If anything, I'm the greatest ally you could ever want!"
"And just who are you, exactly?" asked Tokugawa, his hand on his popgun of a laspistol.
"He's a god," answered Harrington in a voice certainly not befitting a man confronted by a God. He spoke with a small grin, and a sound of slight amusement.
"Sharp as ever, I see, General."
He bowed his head slightly, acknowledging the compliment. "This is our previously unseen voice. The legendary saviour of Minos Corva."
Conrad was now dumbfounded, his gun was completely forgotten. /This was the Shadow? This was the being who saved his world because we asked nicely?/ "But it's only a legend." he said absently.
The Shadow turned to face the wide-eyed Sergeant. "Don't be so naive, Conrad. The Chaos Gods are real, are they not? I'm as real as Tzeentch himself. But while his power is distant, mine is as close as can be."
"You know my name."
Conrad had the distinct impression that the Shadow was smiling at him, despite the fact that he could see nothing of a face or body. It was a smile of amusement. "I know everything you own shadow knows."
Was he being theatrical, metaphorical, or literal? Everyone seemed to reflect on the implications. That anywhere a shadow existed, he existed.
"But I digress," the dark figure continued. "I can assure you that there is no deception on Horandrin's part. As for my own part, I can only give you my word, and the names of all those among you that are traitors, or are having thoughts about treachery."
He turned towards the pile of crates in which more guardsmen 'hid' behind. "Such as Captain Ferson over there."
There was the sound of distant struggle and then the panicked shout of "GRENADE!"
A cylindrical, red, object flew from the boxes and landed on the floor close to just about everyone.
They all reacted as soldiers should. Some dived to the ground, while other's threw themselves into the armoured belly of the transport.
Calderon reacted quickly, moving faster than his huge frame normally would like to, redlining servos and hydraulics, as he moved to divert the frag grenade's blast.
But after many tense seconds, no explosion came. Most were brave enough to look.
Calderon had been the only witness. For, as he moved to block the grenade, he had cast his shadow upon it. And before his optics, the grenade has sunk into the darkness like a stone in quicksand.
"Where is it now?" Calderon asked the Shadow.
"In the warp," he answered matter-of-factly. "Until such time as I summon it forth again."
Sergeant Conrad, who'd somehow managed to fling himself into the Thunderhawk along with Horandrin, now tried to put as much distance between himself and the sorcerer without looking as such.
They diverted their attention now to the struggling and pinned form of Captain Ferson, who swore and cursed loudly in between his imperial rhetoric. "YOU WILL BURN!!! ALL YOU TRAITORS! I knew you were not what you seemed, Harrington! I KNEW you were a heretic all along! And I was right! And you will all suffer for your treachery!"
Harrington kept his cool, though it was obvious he was angry; mostly because someone had just tried to kill them.
"I regret to inform you," the Shadow said, "that Captain Ferson is actually a spy."
"A spy?" said Kamerov. "For whom?"
"Isn't it obvious?" said the Shadow asked. "The Inquisition."
If Harrington could have looked any more steadfast, he would have turned to stone. Turning himself into a virtual pillar of leadership and resolve was his only way of keeping down the dread and anxiety that now bubbled up from his stomach.
He was almost afraid to ask. "Does that mean..."
The Shadow nodded solemnly. "Yes."
The hanger was impossibly silent, save for the struggling Captain. Conrad, who had heard many the distasteful story of the Inquisition, did not fully grasp the magnitude of trouble that had just been made public to them. But he did know that he'd drown if he were to throw up in his mask, unless he took it off. But that was something he did not want to do in public.
Neither Horandrin nor Calderon had any more of a reason to dread the Inquisition more than they already did. Though they had long since turned their fear into hatred, he did realize the implications and that they had much more to fear than he. "You say you are from Minos Corva. That is only a few days from here. How long have you been renegade?"
"Only as such time as it took us to get here," answered Tokugawa, who was still uneasy with Horandrin's presence. "Why?"
"Conceivably, you could out-run the Inquisition to your planet."
"And do what? If we go back we're dead men!" said Harrington. "How could I have been so naive!? I thought we could pull this off! I knew this was going to be difficult, but I thought we could handle it. That I could handle it! Is my ego that big?"
"General, you mustn't-"
"Shut up, Kamerov! I'm an idiot. I have been waiting for this moment for so long that I didn't even stop to consider it. I've doomed us all to death! And for what? For what?"
"James! Get a grip!" yelled Tokugawa as he shook the General by the shoulders. "You might not have thought it through, but we did! We realized the risks, and we went along with you in spite of them! We did it because we believed you. The stories, the legend of how Minos Corva was on the brink of destruction, and he," he pointed at the hooded figure, "saved us all! And we know that for him to call upon our debt, the stakes must be equally as high!"
"The admiral is entirely correct. The stakes are immeasurably high. Harrington... James," the dark figure approached the general, who had fallen to his knees. He placed a gloved hand reassuringly on his shoulder. "You are one of my most loyal followers. I would not have called upon you if I did not know you could fulfill your duty."
"But... Minos Corva... the Inquisition..." he stuttered.
"All is taken care of, James." He helped the man to his feet. "Minos Corva is my world as well, I would not have it razed to the ground on account of you or I. The Circle is large, my friend. Much larger than even you had suspected."
"But how?" he asked, baffled.
"That is of no consequence," the Shadow said, dismissingly. "It has already been done. Minos Corva is safe from the Imperium. Now, I believe it's about time you let Horandrin's troops land. They're getting restless."
Harrington blinked. Then looked at Horandrin, who stood with both feet planted, and his arms crossed over his breastplate. "Forgive me, I had forgotten!" he said with a mixture of sheepishness and near-humour. Harrington simply looked at Tokugawa, who nodded and proceeded to relay orders to the bridge.
"I tend to distract people," he said in a monumental understatement. "You wish to know why I have summoned you to me. Harrington, Tokugawa, you know of the history between Minos Corva, and myself but you do not know the whole of it. Since the colonization of the planet so many millennia ago, Minos Corva has been besieged many times by many different foes. Civil wars, plagues, aliens and others have all been defeated upon Minos Corvan soil." he paused. "We have always prevailed."
"We?" said Conrad.
"Yes," the Shadow nodded. "I have always fought beside you. In the beginning, it was obvious. But as centuries passed, and the Imperium of Man rose from the ashes of civilization, I knew that to have my presence so publicly known, would spell disaster. The Imperium of Man is, after all, a theocratic dictatorship."
Harrington knew that every man from Minos Corva knew what that meant. The Minos Corvan education system is among the most complete in the entire galaxy. Indeed, before the Imperium had come, the Historical Archives had been a veritable treasure trove of information. Now, it was all but empty, pillaged by the Technomagi of Mars, and expunged by the Inquisition. Harrington, of course, knew that a healthy underground of books and knowledge was present. He was, after all, the founder, and a firm believer in the adage, 'Information is power'.
Harrington knew that the last thing the Imperium had expected was a modern society. Such was the reason they had built Corona Station; the technology base was already there.
"Many times," the Shadow continued, "has allegiance been sworn to me, thus. You are all Shadowatchers by the mere virtue of being a native of Minos Corva. You have the same blood within you. The Circle is your birthright, and it has served you, more than I."
"We were born into bondage," muttered Kamerov.
"No, Colonel. When have I ever dictated you life? I only ask for you help now, under the direst of circumstances," he explained. "I never intended, nor do I now intend, to have you my servants. I always hoped that you would help me if I asked. I am the last vestige of the Gods of Light. I shall not lower myself to machinations, like those of the Chaos Gods."
The group was silent in the presence of this new information. Thousands of questions piled on the tips of silent tongues. The Shadow had always been there, they now realized. Watching, waiting, for the time that they would be needed, and he would have to show himself again.
"That explains them," said Horandrin finally. "Now, what of us? I do not like the prospect of exchanging one god for another."
The hooded figure faced the Sorcerer. "I do not ask for your servitude, Horandrin. Tzeentch, or any other god of Chaos, I am not. If you wish to leave, that is entirely up to you. But I present you with an opportunity."
"What opportunity would that be?" he said neutrally.
The Shadow spread his arms. "To join the Circle. I promise not power, riches, pleasures, or glories."
Horandrin almost chuckled, for it was obvious what he had to say. "What do you promise?"
The Shadow smiled invisibly. "Honour."
Horandrin became serious in a heartbeat that was not his own. He had not expected that promise. It seemed a worthy promise. But what were they really after? "I must discuss this with my men," he announced, trying to sound neither disinterested, nor tempted.
"I would expect nothing less," answered the Shadow with a curt nod.
Horandrin spoke to Harrington. "I ask that we may use these hangers as our quarters. No doubt our presence would be disruptive to the crew."
"More so than now?" asked Tokugawa, not expecting an answer.
"You'd best ask the Admiral among us," said Harrington.
Horandrin had the distinct impression that Tokugawa didn't like him. He did not wonder why. "Your permission, Admiral?"
Tokugawa thought for a moment, which was clearly to increase the irritation factor. "Granted."
The group finally started disbanding when Tokugawa's arm was caught by the Shadow.
Startled Tokugawa did not say a word, which suited the Shadow perfectly. "Tokugawa, he is no more Chaos, than you or I."
"That does not assure me."
"And why is that?" asked the Shadow.
"Facta non verba," was the only response. Admiral Tokugawa walked away, thinking he had gotten the last word.
The Shadow once again smiled. "Deeds, not words."
The Thunderhawk settled onto Imperial deck plates that had never seen a chaos vehicle before. And the transport itself, had not touched imperial steel since the Horus Heresy.
Behind it, more Thunderhawks touched down, and in the other unseen hangers, similar scenes played themselves out. There was a general feel of uneasiness throughout the ship. 'Uncertainty' was the magic word for the day. The crew understood, on a rudimentary level, why they had picked up the Chaos Space Marines. Because the Shadow had told Harrington, and he had told Tokugawa, and he had ordered them. It might be later noted that had this occurred to any other unit, it probably would have mutinied. But, seeing as the Thousand Sons were surprisingly well behaved, and that they themselves were already operating outside the Imperial authority, trust in their commanders and their cause was all they had.
Tokugawa, under the advisement of Harrington had ordered the hangers vacated of personnel, thus putting physical distance between two historically hostile forces.
Daleon, was one of the first to disembark. He scanned through the many Thousand Sons that were in the hanger, looking for the only other sorcerer among them.
"Horandrin!" he shouted, and the figure turned.
The two sorcerers converged. "What in the name of Tzee-," he stopped himself. Old habits died hard it seemed. "What is going on?"
"We were just rescued by Imperial Guardsman," Horandrin said chuckling.
"I can see that."
"It's a long story, Daleon. And quite honestly, I', not sure I understand it fully, as yet." Horandrin started to make his rounds, assuming the role of the critical commander inspecting his troops. They looked more lost than formidable, he realized. "I can see that explanations are in order."
Utilizing two ammo crates as a makeshift platform, he asked for attention, and got it swiftly.
From the observation booth, Harrington and the Shadow watched as Horandrin told what information he knew to a packed house, as it were.
It was largely silent and still in the dark room. Only the light from the control panel and from inside the hanger provided any illumination. Only the hum of air conditioning was present until he spoke.
"He's quite the leader," commented Harrington, his hands clasped behind his back, appreciatively. "I can tell by the way they look at him. They are attentive to his words. They respect him, and they trust him.
"Much like yourself, with your troops," the Shadow said.
Harrington snorted. "I hardly think so now. A good commander does not break down into a bowl of quivering second thoughts," he said with disgust barely hidden. "Especially in front of his men. It's unprofessional."
"It's human," countered the Shadow.
"It's damn sloppy," he insisted. He shook his head. "Napoleon never cried in front of his troops."
"Napoleon also lost, James," reminded the Shadow.
"The point is, they expect me to be a leader. They look to me for courage," he said getting angrier with himself more than anyone else. After all, only the foolish get angry at a god. He turned to excuse himself.
"James!" the Shadow said loudly, not turning from the large windows. Harrington stopped. "You are still a leader, an exceptional one. What happened down there only showed that you're still only a man, who cares deeply enough about his men that he would himself be wracked with worry. And they think more of you for it. They do look to you for courage, so that they might see it within themselves.
"It is a heavy burden for one man, I realize. But you are not alone."
He remained silent, and resigned. He left without a word, but with an infinitesimally small grin fighting its way to his lips. Harrington thought about the Shadow's words. "Perhaps then, I should look to them when I'm lacking courage."
Just then his wristcomm beeped. He answered it promptly, and wished he hadn't. "James, come up to the bridge," sounded Tokugawa's voice. "We have company."
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Well, yet another chapter. I should point out that this is my longest running story EVER. I'm so glad that people are actually reading and enjoying it.
Ivan Alias: Well, what can I say? Once again, an awesome review! Thanks for the quote! And I should tell you that this story is as much a guessing game to me as it is to you. Even I don't know where it will ultimately end up. BTW, saw your review for Mage of the Frost. Don't you know hard science has no place here??? I mean really. =P
That Swedish Guy: Hey, thanks for the vote of public confidence!