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Chapter 14: Diplomacy is not a dead art

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Part 5

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Victory Bay
Kronus

In the end, Amberley let Veil speak. She was too curious for her own good. The information the Inquisitor might gain could be too useful. Just as useful as finding out how Veil knew it.

"Well, Selene, it's storytime." Veil began, and somehow, his wings curled protectively around the child in his arm. Even if they shouldn't have properly fit in the Chimera in the first place.

It dawned to Amberley that even when holding a Pariah, Veil might still retain a bit of his connection to the Immaterium, which was more than disturbing, yet would explain much.

"A long time ago, in an age that is now little more than myth and legend, a species called the

Necrontyr arose. They evolved on a planet too close to its star, one ravaged by radiation. They were clever creatures, curious and creative."

Amberley fought not to snort at the blatant buttering of the Necrons. It was just that, it apparently worked at least on the two physically present. Somehow, the machines stood straighter and perhaps, prouder!

The Pariah child relaxed and looked up at Veil.

"Yet, despite all they would achieve over centuries and millennia, even conquering the stars, they couldn't escape the ill legacy of their origins. Even on colonies far away from their homeworld, their bodies still bore the scars and wounds of the radiation that ravaged them for countless generations."

"Despite the extreme effort and resource allocation, our ancestors couldn't meaningfully extent our life span or cure for good the malignant tumors our flesh and blood bodies developed even among those whose immediate ancestors never went near our homeworld." The closer Necron added with a hint of regret.

"The short and painful nature of their existence shaped the

Necrontyr civilization. Lives were short, fleeting things full of agony, loss, and regret. Countless Dynasties rose and fell built upon the anticipation of death. The living, life itself was seen as a temporary state of affairs until you died and joined your countless honored ancestors. The greatest monuments the Necrontyr built were to honor their dead. That didn't change when they spread across the stars, built an empire of their own, and kept searching for salvation, yet it was all in vain." Veil continued in a lower voice. "Until one day, an expeditionary fleet met odd, frog-like creatures. Those were the Old Ones, perhaps the first sentient life to arise in our galaxy. They were immortal, their bodies suffered no disease, no tumors ever ravaged them. They were also the undisputed masters of the Warp, and powerful beyond belief."

"To us, they were the Old Enemy." There was no mistaking the hatred in the Necron's voice. Nor was the emphasis they put on 'were'. The Necrons won the inevitable war. They were still here, weren't they? "We lost everything because of them and our old leaders' folly."

"At first, the

Necrontyr rejoiced at their find. They saw in the Old Ones a way to escape the ills plaguing their flesh. And they asked for help." Veil grimaced. "They were denied and ignored. For what use did the Old ones have for such wretched creatures?" He said bitterly, and the Necrons nodded in unison.

"That couldn't have gone down well…" Caractacus pipped in, demonstrating that he wasn't so engulfed in recording everything that he couldn't even offer the odd comment. Knowing him, soon he would be in his own world, happy as one could be.

"It did not." The Necrons chorused again.

"No, it didn't." Veil continued. "At last, the

Necrontyr had salvation in sight. They could no longer suffer the protracted death of loved ones. No longer they burn out so quickly and fade away. Their leadership assembled a battle fleet and sent it to the closest known Old One world. They once again requested help, and when ignored, they demanded it." Veil glanced at the Necrons.

"We aren't sure what exactly happened then." One surprisingly admitted. "Who shot first or why. What we know is we lost that fleet with all hands. A brutal war followed one we could not even hope to win. The Old Ones tore every single our colonist from their homes, packed them in our remaining ships, and transported them to our home system. Anyone who attempted to leave was destroyed. They condemned our civilization to a slow, agonizing death."Unmistakable fury dripped from every word, it was really impressive coming from a Necron.

"And then, the Star Gods came, the C'tan." Veil continued the story. "One legend says that the best remaining

Necrontyr scientists lured them to their system in an act of desperation. Another claims that one of the C'tan went there through their own devices." He paused. "But I'm getting ahead of myself. What was C'tan? They were as ancient as the Old Ones. They might have been even older, who knows? Initially, they were vast beings who would spread over the surfaces of stars to absorb solar energy to feed themselves. Eventually, they learned to create and use wings to travel to other feeding grounds."

"Make no mistake. The C'tan were parasites, feeding on the stars themselves. They came in our lowest moment and offered the salvation that the Old Enemy denied us." Both Necrons spoke as one, using a different voice. "In their desperation, our leaders made a terrible bargain. Inquisitor, there is one thing we know for sure, for we were there at the end. It took millennia of imprisonment, of our technology failing due to lack of resources, of our people dying preventable deaths, for the last of the Silent Kings to act out in utter desperation. He struck a bargain with the C'tan, saving and condemning us. We don't remember how we first met them. It could have been an accident or deliberate act. We've been studying the stars long before we could reach them in futile attempts to protect ourselves. I can believe we first learned of the C'tan long before making contact with them, long before that fateful bargain."

"In the end, a bargain was struck." Veil nodded. Biotransference, was the price for new bodies, technology to match the Old Ones, who the remaining

Necrontyr then hated with unparalleled passion."

"The C'tan were the power of the stars made manifest. With them on our side, we could reclaim our Empire. We could wreak vengeance upon the Old Ones. And thus, our leaders struck the bargain. They offered a body crafted by our best Crypteks to a C'tan. It was a splendid construct of living metal, the then-current generation of necrodermis. The C'tan compressed their inconceivable power and minds into the bodies we provided. It was then, that one of the reforged C'tan asked for an audience with our last King. The Deceiver received it."

At that point, the Necrons trembled in fury. "Little did the Silent King Szarekh know what he faced. He fell to the lies of the Deceiver. Little do we know of the lies spoken, less about how much of them might have been true. The Deceiver's words swayed Szarekh. The bargain was struck. It took a year of debates and deals, yet we took the poisoned pill as you people say."

"The C'tan were masters of the physical universe. No law of it was a secret to them. In a blink of an eye, they helped the

Necrontyr upgrade their technology, and abate the chronic thirst of resource the remnant of an Empire suffered. They rebuilt, armed with state of the art weapons and ships. Suddenly, they were peers of the Old Ones, ready to exact vengeance. It had been in the twilight days before the War in Heaven began, that the C'tan offered one last gift to the Necrontyr."

"Biotransference. Our salvation, our doom, our origin." This had to be the Necron Lord speaking through his minions. "They offered to replace our ravaged bodies with the living metal that made their own. We would discard weak flesh, stand strong in our new forms and be free to pursue vengeance without constraints."

The Mechanicus would gleefully approve, Amberley noted in a daze, then a terrible revelation struck her. Right here, before her stood the pinnacle of evolution as far as the Tech-priests were concerned. A whole species that had managed to discard their flesh and replace it with machines. And it was a bargain that had a mixed reception at best.

"The bargain was sealed. We gleefully walked to our doom, rejoicing at the prospect!" The Necrons thundered."The great Biotransference process began." They added in a sober, subdued tone. "Our own Crypteks built the colossal Bio-Furnaces that would reshape us. Countless people eagerly toiled and died for the salvation of all the others. And when it was all ready, when everything was in place, we walked inside those abominations by our own free will. We were stripped of flesh and soul, gaining these bodies in the bargain. Only a handful of us retained a shadow of our who we were. And the only thing left to unite us was the burning fury we had for the Old Enemy. We couldn't even conceive of turning upon our new Gods, on those who betrayed us."

"The Necrontyr died, becoming merely a memory. The price of physical immortality was steep. The C'tan feasted on the souls of the Necrontyr and had an army of soulless servants to throw at the Old Ones. The Star Gods hungered for more souls and unleashed their new army to bring them slaves to consume. Thus, begun the War in Heaven had."

"Covering just the highlights would have us stay here long after you are dead of old age and dust, humans. It was a long war. A war we won. It was a war, where the Old Enemy created the Aeldari and Krork as expendable troops to face us. It was the war, in which the Old Ones crafted those you now know as Khorne, Nurgle, and Tzeentch as a weapon of desperation. It was a war we won, yet left us as pale shadows of what we were, but that is a story for another time. We've arrived."

Amberley stared speechless at the Necrons, busy re-evaluating everything she knew about galactic history. If this was true if the Necrons really fought the ancient Aeldari Empire, Orks, and those who might have created them… Her mind spun, jumping to conclusions based on everything she learned as of late. Then, perhaps everything in the reports was true. Perhaps, the Necrons held the key to bring true death to Daemons and calm down the Warp. And if that was the truth, there was scarcely a price the Imperium wouldn't be willing to pay to gain those secrets. Yet, it might just prove to be a price the Imperium in its current state couldn't afford to pay without grave consequences.


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Part 6

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Victory Bay

Kronus

There was a method to my madness, I thought. The more I examined my situation, the more certain I became that my days were numbered. Even the Emperor's blessing wouldn't help much in that regard. After all, one of the few better things than a living Saint causing waves was a dead martyr.

In that regard, the best thing I could think of that might stave off my impending execution was to give Inquisitor Vail enough information as to tempt her not to shoot me out of hand. Hopefully, while doing that, I might recall something that would be useful to humanity in the long run. After that, all I could do would be to hope that the Inquisition wouldn't fuck up by the numbers. Unfortunately, I couldn't exactly get useful information on demand. I still wasn't sure if whoever mind-fucked me on Terra had been sloppy or a genius.

For now, an abridged history of the Necrons had to do. It was true, as far as I could recall, which wasn't saying much at all. I merely made our current allies look a bit better for various obvious reasons. What they added was a nice touch. For all I knew, it might be the honest truth. Or complete grox shit.

Fortunately, dealing with that wouldn't be my problem for much longer.

Inquisitor Vail reluctantly disembarked the Chimera. She looked at her minion with exasperation. Mott, was it, was still busy scribbling down the story. She had to drag the poor bastard away.

Dealing with odd minions was a general curse upon all Inquisitors, not just something special I had to deal with. That revelation didn't make me feel any better.

"Sweetie, you're staying here, where is safer. I'm sure that if you're good girl, we'll be able to find out some hot cocoa for you.'

Selene frowned at me, then brightened and nodded rapidly.

Getting out of the transport was a bit of a chore, with wings and all, but I managed. Weber jumped off the Chimera to be at my side and wavered a bit. With only one arm, his balance was less than ideal.

"Charles, get the transports," and Selene, "farther back in case of trouble. The last thing we need is for some particularly eager or foolish grunt to become overly excited."

"Yes, sir!" Weber saluted smartly and barked orders.

Scipio hurried to join us, while Inquisitor Vail ushered her scribe in one of the Chimeras and left him to look after her Psyker. The thin reedy woman still looked out of it.

From our position, I could clearly hear the chanting of hundreds of people, if not thousands. Streams of angry Binary answered in kind.

"The roads leading closer are packed, sir." Leftenant Pickos jogged to my side, surrounded by her command squad. "It might be best if we go through the field hospital." She pointed at the rows of pre-fabricated structures covering most of the park in front of us. "I've informed General Alexander. He has units on standby to intervene. However, he'll appreciate a peaceful resolution, sir."

"I'll do what I can."

"Then hurry up, Inquisitor!" Scipio bounced off the ground. "Recent scans confirm with 89 percent certainty that we've got a Blessed Hellstorm Cannon! We must retrieve and properly sanctify it! The Omnissiah demands it! He showed us the path!"

I glanced at Inquisitor Vail, struggling with the desire to ask if really all Cogboys were like this, or worse, or if this was just my luck acting up again! I abstained from making even more of a scene and walked forth. Behind us, the convoy moved away, and soon I could sense the Warp clearly. Power filled me, physically refreshing me. However, my mind was another matter.

Once again, wounded and Medicae alike stopped in their tracks to watch the show. More bows, prayers, and signs of the Aquila followed. So much so, I was tempted to check if the Sanguina came early this year!

At least we managed to make our way through without anyone trying to stop us, and soon a painfully familiar sight greeted me. The scene was almost identical, just less scared shouting and running. To compensate, there were many more people around, including a large contingent of angry Martians brandishing everything they could with angrily twitching Mechadendrites.

The mob quieted down in a hurry once they saw my approach. The blessed silence didn't last. Within moments a few thousand people fell to their knees and began praying, while others waved small flags and chanted my name.

"VEIL! VEIL! VEIL!"

"THE INQUISITOR! VICTORY!"

"AVE EMPEROR!"

"THE SAINT IS BACK!"

"Fuck the toasters!" One enthusiast cried out, making everyone pause in confusion before they went back to the insanity.

"Do you see, Inquisitor? Scipio quivered with righteous fury. "Make them go away!" He half-demanded, half-pleaded.

One of these days, I'll be back to dealing with issues where shooting everyone involved might be the prudent thing to do. Either that or Vail and her colleagues will stop dancing around and put me out of my misery, damn it!

Meanwhile, I had to keep dealing with shit I wasn't qualified for.

"My fellow citizens of the Imperium!" This time, I didn't even need to think about it. The radiance filling me jumped to obey, and my voice thundered like an earth-shaker barrage.

Everyone finally shut up, instead of acting like the Emperor bothering bastards they were and paid attention as if I was about to speak the Imperial Truth!

"I would never presume to speak for the Emperor!" Even if it was kind of in the job description of the Inquisition. "However, as an Inquisitor of His Imperial Majesty's Most Holy Order of the Inquisition," There was a contradiction here, no sire! Neither any trace of playing up for Vail and her retinue on the distant chance that she might consider not shooting me… The Emperor knew anyone trying to sell the story of what happened on Kronus to me would earn themselves a firing squad for not trying hard enough to properly bullshit me! Or for trying too hard!

I noticed myself pausing and pretended it was because of the gravitas the name of the Inquisition carried.

"As a humble servant of the Inquisition," I continued as if I didn't slip up in my own mind for a moment, "I must look at facts, temper them with pious faith, and act accordingly."

I wasn't sure how anyone could hear what I said with a straight face. Vail managed to do it. The toaster-fuckers didn't count, for all I knew, any faces they had on display were fake. The mob? It exploded in cheers as if I was going to piss off the Mechanicus, in general, any more than I already did, when they were vital in order to make my impending doom, not a waste.

"The facts of the situation are obvious! The Emperor, in his infinite wisdom," I made the sign of the Aquila and lowered my wings in a sign of respect, an act mirrored by thousands of people I could see, "decided to bless us all right here! Thus, He on Terra made it a holy site, that much no one should be able to argue!" My wings fluttered open to maximum reach, and golden light bathed everyone in sight. I gestured at the feathery ornaments I got stuck with for my trouble. "This is a constant reminder of His grace! This is a fragment of His Divine power! It was no coincidence that the Emperor chose this place to bestow his blessing! In His wisdom, He not only saved his people from the green barbarians, but the Emperor also pointed us at a sacred relic of the Adeptus Mechanicus! The relic is the weapon of a divine machine that fought to protect Kronus ten thousand years ago, and with the blessing of the Emperor, it shall do so again!"

"Wise is the Omnissiah!" The toaster-fuckers chorused as well. "Blessed is his chosen!"

"Will you be good citizens of the Imperium and pious servants of the Emperor? Will you allow His, servants, the Adepts of the Mechanicus to retrieve the blessed artifact patiently waiting below our feet?" I demanded.

There might have been agreement among all the rapturous cries that tried their best to deafen me. Might. It was hard to tell. Even if it wasn't, the way Scipio began to bounce and gleefully chant in Binary told me he heard what he wanted to anyway.

"Now, please go home. If you're still willing to pray, go to your local church. Please, leave the good members of the Imperial Guard secure the site to avoid preventable incidents. The Emperor does help those who help themselves. I can assure you, the Adeptus Mechanicus will treat the area with the appropriate respect. Isn't that right, Magos Scipio-Ro-11?" I put the Cogboy on the hot spot. Misery loves company!

Scipio spent the next few moments whistling in happiness, before everyone's attention registered. He probably recalled my words from a recording. He solemnly made the sign of the Aquila, which was almost hilarious with all those Mechadendrites.

"Praise be the Omnissiah!" Scipio began.

"He means the Emperor!" I pipped up to reassure the crowds.

"We will, of course, excavate the divine relic with all the care and piety appropriate for such a blessed task!"

"You heard it, my fellow citizens! From the mouth of the most senior Adeptus Mechanicus representative on Kronus no less! There is nothing to worry about!" I hammed it up.

The one bright point was that the strength of the faith of everyone in the crowd practically skyrocketed. On second thought, that wasn't exactly the best of news. If they weren't die-hard Emperor Botherers before, they were now.

Fuck my life, can't I get a break, damn it?! What did I do to deserve this?


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Amberley watched Veil play the crowd, saw their unmistakable religious fervor, and reached the logical conclusion. She had to re-evaluate the threat he represented. No matter Veil's true allegiance, the effort it might take to either neutralize him or bring him in the fold properly would be great. Of course, admitting aloud what she was beginning to believe, that he was indeed touched by the Emperor in unfathomable ways, wasn't an option she could use anytime soon. Doing so would immediately put her on the back-foot and severely limit even her theoretical options, much less those she could put to practical use.

Shooting the bastard out of hand was no longer a viable option. Amberley looked at the wings and the soothing golden radiance surrounding them. Besides, she kind of doubted that conventional means would be of much use. And she really hoped it wouldn't come down to her last-ditch contingencies because they would be everyone's death sentence.


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