Note/Apology from the Author:
Yes, I realize it's been an excessively long time since I last updated but I have not abandoned this project. Writer's block and health issues made writing difficult and it took this long to get the words to flow properly. Trying to force words onto the page only ever results in garbage, which my editor can rightly attest to. Rest assured, I think the worst of my writer's block has passed.
EIGHT
Normally sleeping around other people wasn't an issue for me, or for anybody else who served in the Imperial Guard. The rule was to always get sleep whenever and wherever possible. Likewise, sleeping under a watchful eye was nothing new either as Watz and Heilmit often took turns standing watch over me during campaigns. In those cases the watchful eye was keeping you safe and did not fill you with the sense of being a lab specimen examined under a microscope. However, during the first night the thought of a N'hila sitting across from me in an easy chair, watching my every motion with her sharp, amber eyes, was enough to make me dread the thought of going to sleep. The eerie sense that Abaddon himself was going to tuck me in would have probably made for a pleasant change in my mood.
Our first day together had already left me hoping for some means to accelerate the next forty-some-odd hours. It wasn't that N'hila was bothersome or even very intrusive but again I felt as though I were some laboratory animal being studied by some stuffy old scientist with a porridge-bowl haircut, who found everything to be terribly fascinating. As if being scrutinized by Commissar Cain on a daily basis wasn't enough to give a girl a case of 'overly-critical introspective,' otherwise known as 'hopeless newbie' syndrome. But what I awoke to made me give second thought to my situation. You see I had fully expected to awake the next morning with N'hila's eyes having bored a hole through me. I was expecting her to still be cemented to her chair, gazing through me like some kind of life size mannequin.
I awoke suddenly to a strange, heavy sensation upon my chest and a strange odour tickling my nostrils. I became alert very quickly as heaviness in my chest usually meant the air filters had broken down and the oxygen levels had dropped to critically low levels (it's a product of having been raised on a planet with a toxic atmosphere). What I found instead of critically low levels of breathable air was critical high levels of canine hair. A certain bionically-augmented mutt had decided to transplant itself onto my chest and had made a pillow out of my naturally provided ones. For a brief moment, I did not want to disturb the animal that slumbered so peacefully upon me but then I caught another face-full of his breath. His breath hit me like a sack of mouldy cheese and rotted soylent viridians, and that sentiment of "letting sleeping dogs lie" disappeared faster than my appetite. Once I had shooed Mutt off of me, I glanced up to where N'hila had been sitting had been sitting and realized that she was sound asleep in her chair. And it wasn't just the subtle nodding off that happens when forced to stay in one spot for several hours through the night but a total, catastrophic collapse of consciousness as she sat slumped in the chair, arms dangling over the armrests, and head flopped back with mouth agape…snoring.
That's correct – she was snoring. It is a fact I write down with great caution and hopeful prayers that she doesn't happen across it and repays me by smothering me with a pillow in the middle of the night.
In that moment, instead of seeing a piercing, scrutinizing eye that watched every iota of movement I made but an aspiring servant of the Imperium whose spirit was always willing even when the body wasn't; like a juvie trying to stay up the night before Emperor's Day in hopes of catching a glimpse of the mythical Golden Light that delivered gifts to the faithful boys and girls of the Imperium. Emperor knows how many nights I worked myself into a coma trying to stay in the good books of a tutor or a particular mentor with high standards. I imagined the Inquisition had even higher standards than the ones I had been subjected to for years and combined with the earlier embarrassment of being taken down by a junior commissar and I suspected that N'hila was working in overdrive to reclaim her tarnished reputation. Perhaps, I thought, we had gotten off on the wrong foot and I should not be fussing so much over a sense of personal comfort. We were, after all, on the same side so I decided that starting today I would take a more active approach in helping N'hila achieve her goals.
But first I would get some breakfast and I quietly slipped into some proper clothes and out the door. I knew she would be perturbed with me giving her the slip since she was supposed to be watching me at all times but I figured if it had been so important then she should have simply gone to sleep instead of trying to watch me through the night; her wake-up would be a little lesson in foresight. And when N'hila eventually caught up to me in the mess hall about an hour later she was understandable annoyed with me. Normally the straight-faced assassin was as difficult to read as a blank slate in a blinding sandstorm but panic and haste had stripped a few layers off her shroud of mystery. She probably didn't enjoy the fact that my response to her apparent indignation was a dismissive chuckle. Despite coming off as cold and aloof, however, N'hila's mood improved substantially once she had a hot breakfast and a cup of tanna. I was a bit surprised at first at how casually he drank the particular beverage, which is rarely enjoyed by people other than Valhallans, but N'hila could apparently stomach anything that wasn't labelled with biohazard warnings. Perhaps she had her taste buds removed or had special implants because she didn't even flinch when she drank the tanna; she remained, as she often was, expressionless.
"So how long have you been working for Inquisitor Hakim?" I asked idly between sips of recaf.
"Eight years," she answered tersely.
"And how offended do you think he'd be if I told him that this plan is completely asinine?"
After a brief, contemplative pause, N'hila replied in her usual single-worded fashion, "Extremely."
Understatement of the day to say that hers was not the answer I had been hoping for. Nobody enjoys having tactical flaws pointed out to them by people a few thousand pay grades lower than them. It'd be like Herman von Strab criticizing General Creed (for those of you lacking in history, von Strab's nigh-legendary ineptitude almost single-handedly signed the planet of Armaggedon over to the Orks). I was still contemplating alternatives as I dragged half-eaten soylent viridians across my plate in little circles when I noticed that N'hila had been staring at me curiously for the past few minutes.
"Why?" she asked once she saw that I had taken notice of her again.
Once again I had to play the delicate waltz of voicing my concern without sounding a like a xeno collaborator. I figured to go with the idiom 'less is more'. "Kael was smart enough to evade Culexus assassins. What advantage would you have?" The assassin answered by simply pointing at me but that wasn't enough to put my mind at ease. My experiences alone taught me that Kael didn't take chances even when it came to dealing with me. The last time we met on Magnus Viridis, even though I was immobilized from a broken back, he still disarmed my pistol as a precaution. I'd say Kael was borderline paranoid were it not for the fact we truly were out to get him. "If you miss, he'll fry you in an instant."
"I don't miss," she replied with cold confidence. I wished I could display such steely confidence when faced with the possibility of being barbequed by warpfire but I tended to lean to the side of pessimism. I always kept hoping that if I remained pessimistic, I would one day be pleasantly surprised. That day has still yet to come.
I was still unconvinced of the soundness of the Inquisitors' plans but it appeared that I was in the minority. Though I suspected Cain had similar doubts I didn't bother asking him about him. Like myself, he had no interest in spending the rest of his military career attached to a suicide squad and was thusly forced to play along with the Inquisitions plans regardless of how unsound they might be. Besides, I saw little of Cain for the next few days other than brief glimpses as we passed in the halls. And even then only cordial greetings could be exchanged before he was forced to hurry on his way. I rarely saw him moving with such haste unless it involved incoming artillery and I couldn't tell if he was heading toward something or away but whatever the reason, it definitely put promethium in his tanks.
After finishing some paperwork on Captain Pragg's latest round of uniform infractions, most of which were dealt with additional guard duty. Oddly enough, given the frequency of Pragg's lists of infractions, the average number of guard duty shifts per soldier within his company was fairly consistent as soldiers who got penalized one week often got shifts pulled to penalize other members the following week. After a few years, I noticed that certain male-female pairings were routinely showing up together on the infractions list and thus getting extra guard duty shifts together. I never mentioned it to Pragg, of course, since I wanted to see if he would ever realize it on his own. I wasn't about to penalize soldiers who were clever enough to game Pragg's method of instilling discipline; Emperor knows that our soldiers needed a bit of reprieve in a galaxy full of a trillion and one horrors all ready to shuffle you off your mortal coil. Plus I suspected this practice had been going on since the regiment became a mixed unit (and stopped trying to kill each other) so if Cain never voiced a concern then why should I?
After I had finished with my day's allotment of paperwork and a quick dinner with the Major and other officers, I retreated to the seclusion of the empty storage bay I had been using to practice my swordsmanship. Without Cain I was left to run through the routines on my own, which is something I had always found to be a bit dull. It lacked the same sense of satisfaction as target practice but it was practice nonetheless and it was the only way I was going to stop being a liability in close-quarters. My Kriegan-born sense of discipline and duty refused to allow me to become complacent – I had to address my vulnerabilities as best I could if I were to lead from the front like a proper commissar should. With sword in hand, I went through the motions, swinging and stabbing at invisible foes while parrying non-existent attacks. I'll admit that in my younger years I probably looked less like a competent swordsman and more like a child who had just received his first training sword. Close-combat training had never been my strong suit back when I was at the schola and quite often I used whatever excuse I could to get exempted from the lessons. My barely-passing grades in the combat disciplines was what eventually led to the Munitorum deciding I was better suited for desk work than a frontline regiment; that or they realized assigning me to a frontline regiment would have been about as effective as assigning a copy of the Guardsman's Uplifting Primer with an angry face scrawled on the front.
Despite the awkwardness, I had decided to continue with the practice regimen because I figured that it would be beneficial for N'hila to see how I move and carry myself. My practice session with Cain the day before wouldn't have been as effective since I spent most of it picking my arse off the floor.
After a few minutes I was able to get immersed in the motions and rhythm of my routines. Abruptly, however, that immersion was interrupted when my blade was intercepted by another. I had almost forgotten for a blissful moment that I still had an audience so I was a little surprised to see N'hila standing before me with a rapier in hand. I smirked slightly as I stepped back and took a defensive stance, gripping the blade before me firmly in both hands. Judging from N'hila's stance, with the blade held out far ahead of her with a slight upward angle, she was a fencer. Her rapier looked quite fragile with its long, thin blade barely possessing any weight to it but I suspected (and rightly so) that its true strength laid elsewhere. She started off slowly, striking with a series of simple thrusts and slashes that I was able to fend off easily. I returned the gesture in kind as we gentle prodded at each other's defences, watching how the other reacts to different tactics. With her blade extended, it was difficult for me to step into a swing without exposing myself to a quick counter-attack. However, my chainsword's weight advantage meant parrying attacks was like taking a sledgehammer to a wooden birdhouse and she had to be selective in when she struck. These facts made for a very slow start; I was hesitant to commit to an attack and she fought opportunistically. While I had experience fighting xenos (primarily Orks) with a blade, I hadn't fought many human opponents since my days in the schola. She was, however, an interesting opponent to face – a stark contrast to the heavy-handed styles common with chainsword-wielders. The grace and finesse of her style was more reminiscent to those of the Eldar. After a few minutes, N'hila sped up her attacks and things became very difficult, very quickly. Her whisper-thin blade was hard to track at the higher speeds, becoming almost a blur until it clanged against the flat side of mine. She soon caught me with a feint, seemingly striking high and across but at the last second twisting her arm so her blade fell low and swept upwards. Were this a real fight, she likely would have scored a very painful, albeit non-lethal, hit. Instead the only casualty was my dignity as the tip of her blade caught the brim of my cap. As I had retreated hastily to avoid acquiring a new scar to add to my collection, I failed to notice my departing headwear until it had flipped through the air and landed right in N'hila's awaiting hand.
"Oh…you'll pay for that," I growled. Just to add to the insult, N'hila donned my cap and beckoned for me to attack. If you're ever looking to piss off a commissar, messing with their hat ranks just below using their sash as a handkerchief. It was playing right into her hand, of course, but that didn't stop me from launching a frenzied attack at her. With the exception of Khornate berserkers, fighting while angry is as universal a bad idea as denouncing the Emperor in front of an Ultramarine. I swung wildly at her, killing nothing except any sensibility I may have had left. With Eldar-like grace, N'hila danced around my clumsy swings with ease, occasionally taking a moment to swat me with the flat side of her blade just to antagonize me further. Finally, I simply got fed up with her constant mockery and charged for an all-out attack. I rushed her, aiming my swing at her sword rather than her body; my heavier chainsword knocked the flimsy rapier aside and I carried on into a shoulder check, taking both of us off our feet. "Ha! Got'cha!" I said triumphantly as I lay overtop of her with my chainsword held to her neck. Unflappable as always, however, N'hila merely directed my attention downward to the dagger she was now holding in her off-hand that was just shy of pressing against my lower chest and was angled up towards my heart. "Frak…"
As my long-time friend Taisto once said, the best way to get to know somebody is by fighting them. Despite my embarrassing performance, I was not discouraged to continue honing my skills with N'hila. We continued sparring for almost an hour afterwards plus we sparred a few more hours the following day. By that point, I had begun to enjoy N'hila's company in a twisted form of reverse-Stockholm's syndrome. At first I had convinced myself that if I were going to be stuck with her, I might as well make the most of it. However, by the end I enjoyed having the company of somebody not part of the Imperial Guard but also not a civilian. She still wasn't the best conversationalist but at least she never had the fear of insubordination (and a subsequent firing squad execution) holding her back.
We were having lunch and I was recounting my near-death experiences during the Liberation of Magnus Viridis when a runner stopped by our table. The messenger relayed instructions for N'hila to report to the briefing room. Given his non-Guardsman uniform, it was an easy guess the special occasion. "Off to hunt some xenos?" I asked rhetorically as N'hila rose from her seat.
"Correct," she answered curtly. "Gun," she then added. Since N'hila had to disguise herself as me, we needed to make it as authentic as possible. That, unfortunately, meant I had to hand over my prized laspistol as its absence would not go unnoticed by Kael. Though I rarely ever trusted my weapon to another person, especially after losing my eye, I had no choice if the mission was going to succeed.
"Take good care of her," I said as I unfastened my weapons belt and handed it over. N'hila merely nodded an acknowledgment before she headed on her way.
Now because N'hila was disguising herself as me for the mission, I was obviously meant to sit back at base jiggling my mask. However, given that I knew more about our target than everybody on the mission put together, I had no intention of sitting it out. I had already checked over the duty rosters and knew in advance which squad was being sent to accompany Commissar Cain. He had chosen the squad led by Sergeant Penlan, perhaps hoping that her penchant for turning her extreme bad luck into success would benefit the mission (though I doubt that Cain was the superstitious type). I had a narrow window of opportunity so the second that N'hila was gone, I hurried to the barracks.
"Sergeant Penlan, Trooper Walsh – I need a moment of your time," I called out once I had the aforementioned squad. I had arrived just in time as they were already finished gearing up and were about to head out to meet with Commissar Cain in the motor pool.
"What is it Commissar Abel?" Penlan asked as the two troopers came over. "I thought you'd be waiting in the motor pool with Commissar Cain."
"I don't have a lot of time to explain so here's the short of it – the 'Abel' you're meeting up with in the motor pool is actually an operative in disguise. I shall be disguising myself and taking Trooper Walsh's place in your squad."
"Does…Commissar Cain know about this?" Penlan asked with understandable confusion. The saying goes that a commissar only takes off their sash when they're buried so it was odd to have donning the garbs of a mere trooper. I assured her, however, that while Cain was not aware of my plan, I would accept full responsibility for any fallout that may incur. If everything went according to plan, however, nobody would even know I was present. In retrospect it was silly of me to think anything in the 597th ever went according to plan.
"He doesn't know and we're keeping this between us. If Cain has a problem with this I'll deal with it," I explained. "Trooper Walsh, you'll need to make yourself scarce for a while."
"As you wish Commissar," the trooper acknowledged. I chose to replace Trooper Walsh for the simple reason that we were about the same size and she was relatively new to the regiment. As perceptive as Cain was, I doubt he could recognize every trooper when wearing gasmasks so it was my best shot for going unnoticed.
As Walsh scurried off to hide under a rock somewhere, Penlan helped me quickly get into a Valhallan uniform. I needed a bit of help from the sergeant to get all the straps and buckles in order so I wouldn't be chastised by Commissar Cain for being poorly dressed. Once I was in complete Valhallan and fitted with my gasmask, I was able to blend in perfectly with the other Valhallan troopers. I must admit it was strange wearing the uniform of an infantryman and I was a bit unprepared for how warm it was. Even after only a few minutes, I missed the comforting feel of my commissarial greatcoat. For starters, my greatcoat had been tailored to my size as opposed to Imperial Guard uniforms which only came in two sizes – too small and too big. I knew I would have to rely on Kriegan discipline in order to not stand out sweating in my oversized uniform. Emperor willing, I wouldn't pass out from heat stroke during the mission. "Now remember Penlan, from now on I am Trooper Walsh for all intents and purposes; treat me as you would treat her. Is that understood?"
"Yes Commissar," Penlan nodded.
"Not Commisar, its Trooper Walsh," I corrected her.
Penlan was quick to catch on and adjusted her tone accordingly. "Okay…then get your arse in gear trooper! The Commissar is waiting on us," she ordered and hurried me along. Penlan had a rare opportunity where she could order around a commissar without repercussion and I suspected a part of her enjoyed it. Once I was properly dressed and equipped, we rejoined the rest of Penlan's squad and headed off to the motor pool to wait for Cain and the others.
Despite the troopers being on a need-to-know basis with regards to the plan, Cain's briefing was very open about the nature of our mission and our objectives. He likely realized that keeping the troopers in the dark would only hamper their effective if things went awry. It probably also helped to keep the troopers loyal since it showed that he cared enough about their well-being to be honest about what their risking their lives over. I kept quiet and in the back, simply nodding my head on cue and following the rest of the squad when we loaded into the chimera. N'hila was at the briefing as well and it was a very surreal experience to listen to another 'me' talking. It was like watching myself in a dream, though the sweltering heat of the Erebus midday was a constant reminder that I was indeed awake. N'hila didn't say much but whenever she spoke, she was spot-on in my little nuances and mannerisms. I never realized how much I used my hands to accentuate my speech until I watched her explaining our destination. Then again, most Kriegans talk a lot with their hands since we couldn't always use facial expressions and gasmasks tend to muffle one's tone.
Once the commissars had dispensed with the usual motivational prattle (which left me wondering if I had always sounded that preachy), we loaded into our vehicles and headed out. Cain, N'hila and their respective commissarial aides rode in Cain's Salamander while the rest of us piled into the comfortable and spacious Guardsman party bus. I remained at the front end of the chimera, pretending to be catching some rest while I eavesdropped on the conversation in the Salamander as I still had my commissar-issued comm-bead. Watz was his usual shining beacon of optimism, remarking at one point that we'd have better luck chasing daemons farts through the warp. Our destination was a ruined smelting facility a few kilometres away from our further listening post – far enough away to embolden the Eldar into coming to us but not far enough away that we couldn't hightail it back to base on foot if things got ugly. Despite the assurances of the Inquisitors I was still not convinced that Eldar pride would keep us from being turned into bloody confetti. Still, Commissar Cain was going along with the plan and I knew he wouldn't do that unless he had some faith in it. It was that or he was absolutely terrified of Miss Vail, which was something I had a hard time picturing at the time.
The ride had been going smoothly for a while or at least as smooth as one can expect considering we were driving through ruined cityscape that had more pockmarks than an adolescent's face. Given a chimera's average speed through rough terrain and recalling what I could from the map, our convoy (if one could consider two vehicles a convoy) was about half-way to our destination when it came to a very sudden and abrupt halt. My attempts to remain inconspicuous fell apart just as abruptly as the sudden stop threw my helmet-protected headed straight into the wall behind the driver's seat. On the bright side, my fellow passengers got a chuckle from the ensuing vulgarities that leapt from my lips.
"What the bloody hell Donnie?" Penlan asked our driver diplomatically.
"The um…commissars have stopped," the driver replied sheepishly through the tiny slit in the wall separating him from any potentially angry passengers. "There appears to be an Eldar on the road."
"Well I don't hear gunfire so it can't be that bad," Penlan muttered in response. Given her standing with Lady Luck, the sergeant was probably expecting a wraithlord's boot to drop on our heads at any moment. "Private, pop up and try to figure out what's going on," she then asked of me, giving me a convenient excuse to poke my head through the turret hatch (which I would normally have done right away were I in my commissarial garbs). I was expecting to see a dead Eldar, preferably smeared across the front of Cain's salamander, but alas the xeno was standing firm and resolute with only a few feet separating him meeting Jurgen's distinctive driving techniques. The reason the xeno hadn't been reduced to roadkill was immediately evident. The lone Eldar wore the blue and yellow armour of an Alaitoc soldier. It was also apparent that he was no mere soldier as his armour was heavier, more ornate, and his peaked helmet had a vibrant yellow and blue plume along its crest. I couldn't understand how an ancient race could design such unslightly battle armour; perhaps they had hoped to defeat us 'lesser species' through an overwhelming assault on our fashion sense. However, the Eldar soldier was equal parts deadly as he was decorative as he held a modified shuriken catapult fitted to his left vambrace and a large power sword was sheathed at his hip.
Any other member of the Imperial Guard would have ordered the xeno to be turned into a red mist but Commissar Cain, never one to take a situation simply at face value, knew there was more to the situation than an Eldar with a death wish. The Commissar leaned against the side of the open canopy, one hand I noticed resting on the butt of his laspistol, and simply locked eyes with the Eldar as if in some kind of staring duel. I suspect both were waiting for the other to make the first move but eventually the Eldar spoke up.
"Are you one known as Commissar Abel?" the Eldar spoke, his voice carrying an odd tone of calm eloquence. If he was nervous about standing before the barrel of a heavy bolter, it did not show.
"No, that would be my colleague here," Cain answered as he motioned towards N'hila, who stood next to him.
"Then that would mean you are Commissar Cain," the Eldar replied. "You seek the seer Kyriese, correct?"
"And what business is that to you xeno?"
"I am Exarch Caito, in service to Kyriese Myr'nel. An ambush awaits you at your destination and while your deaths would mean little to me, Kyriese insists that we avoid the arduous path," the Eldar explained. "If you would follow me, I shall take you to him."
Cain looked briefly to the assassin-in-disguises, conversing with her briefly and quietly before addressing the Eldar once more. "If your seer knows we seek him, then he must surely know the reason why. For what reason should we believe that you are simply leading us from one hypothetical ambush to an actual one?" A strong point and a question that I had float through my mind as well. It would be all too like an Eldar to lure a unit away from under a false pretence but I doubt that Cain would ever be one to drop his guard especially with Eldar involved.
"Indeed. Your Inquisitors are as subtle as they are intelligent but the detour is as much for our safety as it is for yours," the Eldar replied maintaining as much tact as possible when delivering insult remarks. "You are not the only ones who seek Kyriese and we'd rather you not lead them to him. I have little reason to offer other than the fact that you have been charged with finding him and this is the only path that offers that goal. If you do not believe me, then you are welcome to reduce me to an unsightly stain upon the earth…but then you will not only doom yourselves but this planet and many others. If you wish to speak with Kyriese then follow…" Not waiting for a rebuttal, either verbal or fully-automatic, the Eldar began trekking over the rubble of a collapsed building.
"Bleeding Eldar...always so damned melodramatic," Watz said to break the silence in the lead vehicle. "It's a goddamn war, not a bloody soap opera."
"I think we should follow him," N'hila said. While phrased like an opinion, as an agent of Inquisition it meant she was actually giving an order and it only appeared as if Cain was calling the shots.
"It could still be a trap but we're expecting an ambush either way," Cain said in order to give the appearance that he had reached the same conclusion through his own deduction. The main drawback, however, was that the path that the Eldar took was only traversable by foot. We had little choice but to disembark and proceed on foot, leaving the vehicles and their crew to wait for our return. For reasons that were unknown to me at the time, Cain instructed Spike to stay behind with the salamander rather than Jurgen, who seemed perturbed at the notion of leaving the vehicle in the care of another soldier. I figured that Cain simply wanted his trusted aide close at hand where he could do the most good if things went bad, which happened to be the truth but for an entirely different reason.
We had to double-time in order to catch up with the Eldar, who did not even have the basic decency to wait for us. He led us over the rubble and into a ruined building that did not look too unlike the hab complex that I had first met N'hila in. It wasn't the same one, of course, since most hab complex were built using the same drab architectural design and, more notably, this particularly hab complex was in even worse condition. More than half the building had been blown apart by bombs and mortar fire. It looked as structurally sound as a table with two legs blown off and even our collective footsteps seemed to upset the delicate balance of rockrete and plasteel. As we ventured deeper into the ruins, I prayed to the Emperor that a tanks or low-flying shuttles passed by. After ten minutes of the Emperor not deciding to bury us beneath a tonne of rockrete, the Eldar stopped at what appeared to be little more than a dead-end corridor that was blocked off by the collapsed ceiling. There was a hint of tension in the air for a moment as this appeared to be exactly the kind of destination one would take a squad of soldiers if you wanted to ambush them but the Eldar merely stood before the pile of rubble. With a wave of his hand, one of the slabs of rockrete flickered and suddenly vanished before our eyes, revealing a small passageway through blockage. Holo-field technology was nothing new to anyone in the squad, myself included, but I was still impressed by the subterfuge in play. The tension, however, wasn't entirely displaced as the newly-revealed corridor restricted passage to one person at a time; wherever we were going, we wouldn't be able to get out of it quickly.
Undaunted, we continued forth, squeezing one by one through the tiny passageway, and emerging on the other end in what used to be the hab complex's banquet hall. Compared to the rest of the building, the banquet hall was in fairly good condition with the exception of a few cracked walls, several of the tables having been smashed in by falling debris, and the kitchen that was completely blackened by a fire long since past. If a platoon of guardsmen were set upon the banquet hall, they would probably be able to bring it back to working condition and it would arguably be in as good condition as the mess hall in our current headquarters. Banquet halls were often the most structurally sound room in a hab complex, likely so the occupants could continue their Feast of the Emperor's Ascension without having to worry about bombing runs interrupting their celebrations (because every priest will tell you not even the Warp itself ripping open before you should interrupt a Feast of the Emperor's Ascension). I imagine there was a slight sense of disappointment for each soldier when they emerged on the other side of the passageway and did not find a room filled with Eldar warriors. Instead, we were greeted with the presence of an awe-inspiring grand total of three Eldar. Clearly Kael had great faith in our honesty or this was the single-worst ambush in the history of Human-Eldar warfare. Sitting patiently on one of the few intact banquet tables was Kael or at least who I assumed was Kael since the toxic atmosphere meant everybody was wearing helmets and he wore the smooth, elongated helm of an Eldar warlock. Standing beside Kael was an Eldar warp spider - the same warp spider that had accompanied Kael when we met in my room. Lastly, leaning back in a chair with legs propped up on the nearby table was an Eldar banshee who appeared to be on the verge of going in a boredom-based coma. Given the apparent lack of numbers, I was willing to wager my salary that she was the same banshee that saved my arse earlier. Our arrival, however, seemed to catch the banshee's attention with great earnest, most likely because it was the only thing of interest happening in the room aside from the growing collection of dust.
"Wow…they actually showed up just like you said they would," she said with a hint of surprise. "I'm sorry I doubted you Kyriese."
"Apologies are not necessary," Iamanu, the warp spider, replied. "When it comes to things Kyriese says, scepticism is naturally the first response."
"Kyriese!" N'hila bellowed as she stepped out ahead of the rest of us, "We need to talk."
"Indeed…and I suspect you have a great many questions as you always do," Kael replied as he hopped off the table. "Unfortunately, this will have to be brief as danger stalks us from the shadows and even here we shall not be safe for very long." N'hila and Kael stepped a bit closer to one another while their respective entourage waited for the slightest hint of betrayal from the other side. "Ah…but where are my manners? Haste is no excuse for forgo proper etiquette. It is what separates our species from the more brutish races like the Orks after all. You have already met my old mentor Caito and behind are Iamanu and Aishtaid. I'm afraid that this is all the 'army' I have brought with me, which I have no doubt will disappoint Inquisitor Vail." Others may have been surprised but the small number reflected the Kael that I knew. An outcaste of his craftworld, Kael may have maintained his loyalties but he no longer had the authority to call upon or lead a warhost. The few Eldars following him likely left their units in order to do so out of personal loyalties to the seer.
"Enough with the bullshit and evasion Kyriese, I want answers from you," N'hila demanded sternly, taking another step closer as though to accentuate her point but was really just a means of getting within striking distance. "We know the Eldar have been operating on Erebus since the civil war broke out. What do the Eldar gain from throwing this world into chaos?"
"Did you ever consider that perhaps this world was thrown into chaos to prevent it from falling to it? Were it not for that war, your heretical menace would likely have festered unchecked for decades before boiling over with enough force that nothing short of an Exterminatus would have snuffed the flames," Kael was quick to reply. No doubt he saw the question coming from a mile away. "It's an odd way of saying thank you for exposing a problem that you humans would have otherwise missed."
"Next time maybe you should just vox us and leave us a message," N'hila replied, masterfully utilizing the same degree of sarcasm that I would've in the same situation.
"If I had perpetrated such acts, I would have done such…but these were the acts of neither I nor Craftworld Alaitoc. If you want to get angry at somebody, you want the other Eldar that can answer your questions." I doubt that Vail or Hakim would take an Eldar at his word but considering the civil war broke out while he was still on Magnus Viridis, I had little reason to doubt that he was telling the truth in this instance. "And I'm sure Autarch Junayd wishes he had done things differently as well since you humans did a rather poor job at rooting out the problem."
"Are you suggesting there are still heretics at work on Erebus?" Cain interjected.
"Heretics of the worst kind I'm afraid," Kael confirmed. That 'worst kind', unfortunately, were the daemon-worshipping kind. I had been led to believe the civil war was simply over a difference of opinions or because somebody figured they didn't need to pledge loyalty to the Imperium anymore…not because they sought favour with the dark gods.
"And how much else have you been holding out on us?" Cain replied with a hint of annoyance.
"Little else I'm afraid," Kael said in a reluctant tone. "There is a…haze that enshrouds this planet. I cannot pinpoint the source but it is most certainly not a natural phenomenon. All I know is that it is making it difficult to pierce the veil of fate. Junayd would be too proud to admit it to anybody, especially you humans, but he is stumbling around blindly like the rest of us, trying to figure out what it is he really seeks. What's worse is that I fear his own seers might actually be leading him astray."
"Meaning what?" N'hila asked.
"Meaning that when his less-experienced seers attempt to pierce this haze, it may in fact be lying to them. That is how I know that darker powers are at work – such a haze could not be created by an amateur or by accident. Somebody is deliberately shrouding their movements from psychic eyes and they are using dark rituals in order to do so."
Cain and N'hila exchanged glances for a moment, likely both wielding a sceptical glare as they turned their attention back to Kael. "You do realize that without any kind of evidence, there's no chance the Inquisitors will believe any of what you've just said."
"Guess I can't just say 'trust me on this,' can I?" Kael quipped with a slight shrug of his shoulders. "A pity since the true enemy benefits from you continuing to think that the Eldar are your real enemy."
"Launching raids doesn't exactly make it seem like you want to have tea and biscuits," Cain remarked.
"Junayd is using raids because he does not think you capable of handling the threat, which, interestingly enough, you might have been able to if he hadn't been raiding your base," Kael answered with a slight chuckle. "Alas, Junayd is not one to admit he doesn't know when he's a bit lost but if I can convince your Inquisitors that the Eldar are not the real threat, then I can perhaps use that as leverage to convince Junayd to stop his raids. Then maybe, and it's a big maybe, we can actually do something about saving this planet and every living soul on it…except for the evil ones."
I doubt anybody in the room aside from myself was inclined to believe Kael. I wondered for a moment if Kael kept coming to me because I was somehow significant or just because I might just be gullible enough to manipulate. It was a good thing that it was N'hila who had to attempt to take the seer down since I would have been reluctant to use any kind of force on him at this point. Speaking of take-down, all during the conversation N'hila had been gradually moving closer to the seer and was now within arm's length of him.
"If you want to convince the Inquisitors of this plan of yours, you're going to need to tell them face to face," N'hila explained. I noticed a subtle movement in the palm of her hand, which was turned away from the Eldar, that looked vaguely like somebody slipping something hidden in their sleeve. I realized then that N'hila was about to make her move.
"You and I both know that is out of the question. If you will not believe me then I'm afraid there's nothing else to be said. I bid you good tidings Commissar Abel," Kael said with a hint of disappointment. He stared at the assassin for a moment as though he was about to say something else but he remained silent and simply turned to walk away. I knew that if N'hila was going to make a move, this was going to be her best and only window of opportunity.
In hindsight, what I did next was incredibly stupid. "Kael, watch out!" I suddenly blurted out as N'hila stepped in for the strike. Eldar reflexes being far greater than those of a simple human, that split-second of advance warning was enough for Kael to suddenly snap back around and strike N'hila back with a powerful psychic pulse. The blast knocked the assassin several feet back and left the poison-coated dagger she had concealed tumbling to the floor. Pistols, rifles, and xeno weaponry were immediately brought to bear as stand-off broke out. By some miracle though, nobody fired and a tense silence flood the room.
"Ah Ariel…I was wondering when you'd make your presence known," Kael said slyly and I got the sudden impression that he hadn't been fooled by the plot in the least. Granted, he could have been faking the calm composure since he was a liar and manipulator. "Unlike some humans, your sense of honour I can always count on."
Understandably, N'hila was extremely mad at me. Actually, mad would be an understatement. When she got up, she looked at me as though she was about to declare exterminatus on my arse. "What the frak do you think you're doing?" she hissed at me after storming up to me. I honestly couldn't think of a worthwhile answer other than that it felt like the right thing to do, which I knew would be woefully inadequate in satisfying the demands of a pissed off assassin. On the scale of bowel-loosening terror, staring into the eyes of a furious Inquisitional assassin ranked just below staring into the business end of a gauss flayer. Since anything I could think of was not only inadequate but would also likely become my last words, I remained silent.
Thankfully, Cain stepped in and began to defuse the situation in his trademark diplomatic fashion. "Okay people and xenos alike, pointing guns at each other clearly isn't in anybody best's interests."
"Not in our best interests?" Iamanu scoffed. "You just tried to kill Kyriese and you expect us to lower our weapons so you can finish the job?"
"Technically, we were here to apprehend Kyriese. If we had wanted him dead we would have opened fire when we arrived," Cain explained calmly as he looked over to Penlan. "Regardless of what the truth is, we need him alive so I would ask the sergeant to tell her men to stand down." Cain then turned his attention back to the seer. "And since you are outnumbered and outgunned almost three-to-one Eldar, it would be in your best interest not to inadvertently provoke hostilities from us."
"The human speaks the truth," Kael said sternly to his cohorts. "Now please, stay your hand my friends. Nothing will be gained here today with violence and bloodshed."
Remarkably, after a few seconds, everybody in the room lowered their weapons and the situation was calm at last…or at least as calm as it can get when there's a pissed-off assassin in the room. Cain's timing couldn't have been any better since a few seconds later, the far wall suddenly exploded in a shower of rockrete and dust and through the cloud, gunfire came pouring in.