The Archon of Dawn coasted silently through the dark of interplanetary space, as it had done for the past several hours. As it approached the rendezvous point, several massive shutters opened, revealing the Archon of Dawn's passive auspex systems. It detected a small ship on course for the rendezvous point. The crew of the ship tripple checked their course, confirming that they were on a path for the meeting point at the proper velocity. They were.
A plasma drive flared in the void, and the ship they were coming to meet changed its course to pull up alongside them. Transfer tubes snaked across space, and the small ship was pulled toward the much large Archon.
In one of the hangar bays, Simon, again wearing his vacuum-resistant psyker voidsuit, stood next to Augustus as the transfer of vernal crystal commenced. A small fortune had been transferred to the Autrunan Crystal runners in exchange for the massive amount of Vernal Crystal that was now being loaded onto the Archon of Dawn. It was a considerable investment, but the crystals would fetch more than ten times there Autruna market price in Sernsiwui.
That, of course, assuming that the group could move the product and evade the Sernsiwui authorities long enough to launch their counterstrike. This clandestine, deep-space meeting was part of that; even if someone pulled the ship's log of ports, it wouldn't show them as having docked at Autruna.
Of course, they never intended to dock at Sernsiwui to unload their product. They would perform a similar deep-space docking to transfer the Vernal Crystal and receive their payment. After giving it a few days to percolate through the planet's underworld, they would use the beacons planted in the drug supply to identify likely cult strong points and raid them. From there, they would interrogate the prisons to gain the information needed to roll up as much of the cult as possible.
It's a good plan. Simon assured himself, watching as the first of the chests of Vernal Crystal began to emerge from the transport tubes. The crystal was packaged in chests, each containing one hundred kilograms of the extremely potent drug. That was supposed to be around half a million 'hits' of the drug, but given the habits of Slaaneshi cultists, each chest would probably supply significantly less than that.
Sara stood on the other side of Simon, watching the transfer of drugs, eyes wide.
"So why are we doing this, again?" She asked.
"Because we need money." Maren said.
Simon turned around. He hadn't noticed her presence behind him. The woman was a master of coming and going mysteriously. He sighed.
"Also, we are doing this in order to track down a Chaos Cult on another planet." Simon explained. "This particular cult has a fondness for drugs of all types, and by selling them those drugs, laced with tracker beacons, we can follow the drugs and locate where the cult's bases of operation are. Then we can take them down."
"Oh." Sara said. "What do we do then?"
"After that?" Simon said. "We purge everyone corrupted by the cult. Then we negotiate an appropriate reward with the planetary government, collect a bunch of money, and leave."
"So that's it?" Sara asked. "We don't... I don't know... I'm not really sure."
"We don't help with the rebuild, if that's what you're asking." Simon said, shaking his head. "We don't have an interest on this planet, and once it's been purged of its heresy, it's not really our problem anymore."
"Okay." Sara said. "Something about that just feels wrong, somehow."
"Yeah, I know what you mean." Simon said. "But sometimes, usually in this crazy universe, you can't save everyone. We aren't heroes here."
"What do you mean?" Sara said, clasping her hands together. "You've told me so much about what you and Augustus and Maren and Venatus have done. How are you not heroes?"
"We've failed too many times to count." Simon said. "Worlds have burned, or been crushed under the heel of the Imperial Guard because of those failures. Ask Agustus about Sekerion Prime sometime. If we were heroes, we would have been able to stop that. Warp, if we were heroes, we wouldn't have caused that little incident. So no, we aren't heroes."
"Oh." Sara said. "But still, haven't you done a lot of good, too?"
"I suppose." Simon muttered.
They continued to watch in silence as the remaining chest of drugs were loaded into the ship. The transport tubes retracted back into the void, and deckhands moved into position to begin moving the chests deeper into the vessel.
As soon as the last crate was onboard, Simon turned and began to make his way back to his quarters for the Warp Jump.
[x]
A week later, the Archon of Dawn emerged from the Warp in a flash of light and a shower of exotic radiation. It was much further from the Sernsiwui system than was strictly necessary, the better to make a clandestine contact. The massive vessel fired its maneuvering thrusters, then its drives flared, and it began to accelerate away from the point of its emergence. Their exit from the Warp would be detected almost immediately, but it would take hours for the light from their drives to reach the planet, by which time they would be long gone.
A small transport craft launched from one of the Archon's launch bays. It cruised for about an hour before it reached a pre-arranged contact point. The transport fired a tight-beam contact laser toward another point, waited for the lightspeed delay, then saw a flash of acknowledgement.
A second ship, much larger than the 'tiny' transport, fired its drives briefly and began to drift toward the Archon's boat. Cables shot across the void, and contact was established.
On the 'bridge' of the transporter, Simon took a deep breath of recycled air from his void suit as the contact cables connected. The suit was not merely a precaution in the event he lost pressure, but was also intended to protect his identity from the dealers.
He had a large metla charge aboard the ship that would destroy the drugs, the ship, and him if the drug dealers killed him, and the Archon of Dawn was waiting at the extreme edge of her lance range, ready to fry the drug dealers if they tried something more elaborate.
However, that was a cold comfort. Is his 'trade partners' wanted to, they could easily destroy him and stand a good chance of escaping before the Archon could destroy them.
The comm link crackled to life. "Show us the product." The voice on the other side said.
Simon pressed a button on his console, sending a live image of the drugs in the hold to the dealers on the other ship.
"Open the third chest in the fifth row from the left." The dealers' spokesman said.
Simon bent down to his vox receiver. "Do it." He said.
A few seconds, a servitor walked into the room filled with drug chests, approached the requested chest, and opened it, revealing the lustrous red crystals within.
"Very well." The speaker said. "I'm coming aboard. I'm bringing ten of my heavies with me. I hope you don't object."
"Fine." Simon said. Even a vessel this small had over a dozen Armsmen aboard, and he trusted a disciplined ex-Navy Armsman to be more than a match for a criminal heavy.
The docking hatches connected, and the airlocks hissed as pressure was equalized. Simon stood up from his console and walked over to the airlock door, waiting for the dealer to enter.
The door opened slowly, revealing a man in a truly ostentatious costume, enough to make a Rogue Trader feel overwhelmed. He was accompanied by ten seemingly identical tall, scared men, all carrying autoguns.
The pair of Armsmen on the deck stepped protectively in front of Simon. Simon took a deep breath and stepped forward.
"As agreed, you will hand over the payment before the transfer of product." Simon said, trying his best to sound confident.
He had faced down Xeno horrors and Daemons from beyond reality. Why was he afraid of some drug dealers?
"There's been a change of plans." The dealer said. "You will transfer half of the product before we transfer any currency."
"That is not acceptable." Simon replied.
"Then we are at an impasse."
"Give men half the money, and I will give you the drugs." Simon suggested. "Then you give me the other half when the transfer is complete."
"I'll give you a third now." The dealer responded.
Simon frowned. Augustus had told him to expect posturing power negotiations, but also told him not to push it too far, lest he reveal that he had an ace in the hole in the form of the Archon of Dawn.
"Fine." Simon said. "Make the transfer."
The pirate raised his wrist to his mouth and muttered something that sounded like High Gothic. Simon looked down at his wristcomp, where a small light blinked, confirming the receipt and authenticity of the transfer.
"Commence loading." Simon said.
The door at the back of the cargo bay opened, and a pair of Servitors walked out, carry a chest of Vernal Crystal between them. As they plodded into the chamber, second pair followed, then another. Soon, a steady stream of Servitors was running between the cargo bay and the dealer's end of the transfer tube.
Neither Simon nor the dealer said anything as the crystal was unloaded. They simply stated at each other. Simon had to mentally restrain himself from fingering the power sword clamped to his void suit, or the pistol clamped to his thigh. His armsmen did a good job of hiding it, but he could tell that they were nervous too. No one liked being outnumbered.
Several more minutes passed, and eventually the last chest was moved out of the hold. Simon wait for the dealer to say something.
As the silence became deafening, Simon finally spoke. "The product is aboard your ship." He said.
"I suppose you're right." The dealer respond. "Very well."
The dealer paused for a moment, then transferred the remaining funds to Simon.
"Our business is concluded." The dealer declared. "I hope our paths do not cross again."
With that, the man turned and left. A second after the airlock door hissed shut, Simon smiled.
"I doubt that will be the case."
[x]
As Simon stepped down from the cockpit door on the transport door, Sara rushed toward him. She was currently wearing a standard crew suit, minus the helmet, and a look on concern was etched across her features.
"I was so worried!" She said. "Flying off to meet those drug dealers... why did you do that?"
"Because Augusts asked me to." Simon said. "He said we needed to send someone high ranked in our organization, in case they bothered to check my identity. Otherwise, they wouldn't take us seriously."
"Oh." Sara said. "But still, couldn't someone else have gone?"
"But what if everyone sent someone else in their place?" Simon asked.
"Then I guess... oh." Sara responded, realization dawning on her face. "Right. But still, why did it have to be you?"
"Presumably because I was the best person for the job." Simon said. "I can't fight like Maren or repair machines like Venatus. So if the team lost me, it would be as big a blow as if they lost one of the others."
"I see." Sara said, looking down. "So what do we do now?"
"We'll transfer back into Warp space in a few minutes." Simon said. "Then we'll proceed at a low speed toward the system, giving the drugs some time to circulate. Then we track the drugs, hit cult strong points, grab the leaders, interrogate them, and hit the remaining Cult targets."
"How long until we reach the planet?" Sara asked.
"For us?" Simon said. "About twelve hours. I'm going to get some sleep. Things are going to be pretty busy once we arrive.
[x]
"Transfer Orbit complete." The Helmsman said. "We are now in stable orbit."
"Very good." Augustus said from his command throne on the bridge of the Archon of Dawn. "Direct power to the Auspex systems and prepare to scan.
The Bridge of the Archon of Dawn was a massive, vaulted space, with Augustus' command throne on a raised dais in the center, surrounded by concentric rings of tech specialists at consoles, hardwired servitors, and Ship's officers. It was kept fairly cold, to better the operation of the ship's cogitators, and decorated in a classic Imperial style, with the common gold fittings and statues in vaults in the corner.
His retinue, including Sara the Tyranid, sat at stations surrounding his command throne, analyzing the data that came in as they saw fit.
"Powering up Auspex Arrays." The sensor tech said. "Commencing scan."
A massive holographic globe representing the planet below appeared in the air in front of Augustus' command throne. A few seconds later, red dots began to appear on the globe.
"We are getting returns." The sensor tech said.
"I'm overlaying the returns with population density and surface feature maps." Simon said.
"Comparing surface scan returns with distribution of drug returns." Maren said.
"Interfacing and examining statistical probabilities of Cult locations." Venatus said, his voice even more monotone than usual. "Eliminating statistical improbabilities."
The conversation, as it was, continued in that vain for over an hour. Servants circulated carrying food and drink to the techs, and one by one, yellow arrows appeared on the holographic display indicating probable cult locations.
Eventually, the Archon of Dawn completed its orbit and powered down its auspex arrays.
"Tell the Storm Troopers to board the Aeronautica and prepare to deploy." Augustus ordered.
"Already done." Maren said. "I had them start loading up as soon as we were half way done with the scan."
"Very good." Augustus said. "Ready my shuttle. I'm going down myself."
[x]
The modified gun cutter soared down through the atmosphere, targeting the warehouse complex housing the cult drug storage facility.
Simon was in his armored void suit, carrying a high-quality plasma rifle, his staff propped up next to him. Maren sat next to him, blade on her lap. Venatus was overseeing the piloting of the shuttle, and Augustus sat behind Simon in his power armor. The rest of the transport capacity of the shuttle was filled with stormtroopers.
"Alright, gentlemen." The stormtrooper captain said, standing up in the back of the shuttle bay. "We're going in cold on this one, so we have no way of knowing exactly what we're going to run into. Thermal scans say we're looking at fifty-some people in there, but we have no idea how many of them are going to be combatants. They're probably going to be hopped up on crystal, so don't forget to double tap. Look out for traps, ambushes, and heretics."
Simon checked his wristcomp. The shuttle was almost at the ground. They were landing almost directly on top of the warehouses, so the distance to the assault would be minimal. Simon muttered a short prayer to the Emperor, begging for success and safety in the coming battle.
With a jolt, the shuttle landed. The assault ramp dropped, and the stormtroopers charged out, hot shot guns at the ready. Simon grabbed his staff, carrying it in his right hand and his plasma gun in his left, and dashed out of the shuttle after the stormtroopers.
The street was empty. Apparently, the civilians had seen the shuttle coming and fled. They had landed in an open intersection just a few buildings down from the warehouse complex.
The Stormtroopers had already formed a cordon around the shuttle ramp, and the second echelon of troopers from the ship were advancing down the street, guns at their shoulders.
Simon began to walk down the street behind the stormtroopers. Maren was next to him, sword and pistol in hand, and Augustus was near the point, resplendent in his power armor. Venatus was just behind him, a forest of weaponized mechadendrites at the ready around him.
They reached the first warehouse, and the stormtroopers took up positions around the cargo door. Augustus walked up and raised his oversized pistol.
"In the name of the Holy God Emperor of Mankind, I claim entrance to these premises." He declared, and pulled the trigger.
With a keening sound, the door exploded inward, the cheap strips of metal disintegrating under the force of Augustus' archeotech weapon. The stormtroopers surged inward, pointing guns everywhere and shouting.
Simon followed on the heels of the stormtroopers, raising his plasma gun as he crossed the threshold of the warehouse. As he did so, something foul struck his psychic senses. It was a sense of hedonism and lust, of foul acts and dark rituals committed on these premises. He muttered a word of power and warded himself against the dark presences, then continued inward.
Just in time for a firestorm to erupt.
Figures dressed in rags sprung from the shadows of the crates and piles of refuse filling the interior of the warehouse and brandishing a variety of weapons. The stormtroopers reacted almost before the cultists had a chance to open fire, the ruby red beams of their hotshot lasguns cutting into the cultists.
As fountains of gore and steam exploded from ex-cultists, their surviving comrades opened fire with a variety of weapons. A stubber round bounced of Simon's cuirass.
He whirled around and reached out with his psychic power, unleashing a burst of pyromancy. A group of cultists, including the one who had shot them, screamed as, for them, the Long War ended in fire.
As a pair of stormtroopers went down to bursts of lasgun fire, Simon fired a psychic lance at the origins of the attack. At the same time, he reached out with his psychic senses and tried to analyze the battlefield.
Almost immediately, he felt the presences of the thirty-three surviving stormtroopers of the company, as well as at least a like number of cultists surrounding them.
Another stormtrooper went down. We need to find some cover! Simon thought, then looked up. Or maybe I could make some.
Simon focused and reached upwards with his psychic power. He grabbed on to the regions of rotten ceiling forming a border around the stormtroopers, then flexed his telekinetic muscles. At the same time, he projected a conical forcefield over the stormtroopers and retinue.
With a creek, the ceiling came down, tons of wood, metal, and ceramic crashing down against Simon's barriers. The mess of material slid down the barrier, forming a low wall around the stormtroopers.
Simon dropped his telekinetic field. Almost immediately, the Stormtroopers dropped prone against the ring of debris, seeking cover against the storm of fire the cultist were throwing down. As Simon sought cover next to a Stormtrooper heavy weapons team calmly setting up a heavy bolter, he expanded his psychic senses again.
The heavy bolter next to him opened fire as the cultists continued to exchange fire with the stormtroopers. As Simon's awareness reached the next building over, he stopped, shocked. At least a hundred cultists were rushing toward the building, hate and corruption filling their minds.
Where did they come from? Simon wondered. The thermal scans were supposed to have revealed every living thing in the buildings. The cultists had a trump card.
Fortunately, so did Simon.
He hadn't wanted to do this, as the risk of revealing unsavory facts was rather high, but it seemed that there was no choice.
Simon pressed a button on his Wristcomp and smiled.
[x]
Back at the shuttle, Sara looked up at a blinking light on the dashboard of the co-pilot's seat.
Simon needs help! She thought with a start.
Sara scrambled out of her seat, out of the cockpit, and down the assault ramp. She sprinted towards the warehouse, rather casually moving much faster than the norm for an unaugmented human.
As she approached the warehouses, she heard the sound of lasgun and stubber fire issuing out from the building. She got closer, and was able to make out the forms of the stormtroopers crouching against a ring of debris inside the ruined door.
Oblivious to the occasional projectile streaking toward her out of the door, Sara stopped short and closed her eyes. Simon needs me. She thought.
Sara began to glow. Her arms began to split laterally down the middle, separating as she grew taller and bulkier. The hands on her upper pair of arms began to elongate forming her boneswords, and her right hand on the lower pair of arms began to grow into a venom cannon. Her head extended forward as her jaws expanded, and carapace grew over her body as her spinal column extended into a tail.
In under a second, a red and silver Tyranid Warrior stood in front of the warehouse.
Sara lowered her head as her adrenal glands flared, and she shot forward into the warehouse.
[x]
Simon watched as the storm of fire cut out as both sides briefly stopped shooting as the Tyranid creature charged into the warehouse. As the stormtroopers pivoted to engage the creature, she charged forward and leapt over the line of stormtroopers. As she landed, she roared a challenge to the cultists.
One cultist jumped out from behind the crate that he was taking shelter behind and charged Sara, brandishing a rusty sword. She lowered her head and took a step forward. When the cultist was perhaps three meters in front of her, she flung herself forward, twisting around the cultist's attack. Her bonesword flashed, and the cultist went down in a spray of blood.
As the cultist hit the ground, Sara raised her Venom Cannon and fired a bust at another group of cultists. As they went down screaming in what Simon supposed was a mixture of agony and ecstasy, the cultists began leaving their cover en mass to charge Sara.
Once again, she stepped into the charge. Sara swung her boneswords a pair of long horizontal sweeps, slicing into the three lead cultists. Her tail swung out from behind her, its lashing tips raking across the face of a cultist and throwing him to the ground, a bizarre rictus inscribed on his features.
Sara finished the man on the ground off with a stomp, then executed there more cultists with a quick series of vertical chops from her boneswords.
One cultist swung an axe at Sara's back, but it bounced off her thick carapace. Another woman thrust at her armpit with a bayoneted stubber. It found some purchase, but quickly came free when Sara 'pistol'-whipped the heretic with her venom cannon, then followed up with a blow from the thick section of her tail. A quick swipe from her boneswords ended the last of the group of cultists that had been attacking her.
Seconds after the last of the comrades hit the floor, the remaining traitors raised their mish-mash of weapons and opened fire. Most of their shots missed, and most of those that hit bounced off Sara's strong carapace plating. A few shots drew ichor, but Sara seemed undeterred as she raised her Venom cannon began blowing the cultists away.
"Tyranids versus Cultists!" Simon shouted, raising his plasma gun and firing a blast into a cultist who was moving to outflank Sara.
A few of the stormtroopers raised their hotshot lasguns and fired into the remaining cultists. Sara had taken coven behind a crate, a position she had rested from the three cultists lying there in pools of their own blood, and was firing her Venom cannon into the remaining enemies.
As the last of the cultists dropped, Simon focused and began to reach out with his mind. Healing via biomancy was a difficult task, and one that required concentration, but Simon could at least replenish energy and enhance the natural healing process.
So far, they seven stormtroopers were down. Of those seven, three were dead, but Simon could sense life in the other four. Sending a wave of energy through the stormtroopers still standing, Simon turned his mental attention to the wounded. He began filtering Warp energy through his mind, turning it into energy living things could use, and then poured it into the wounded men.
Almost as soon as he had started, a pair of doors at the other end of the large room burst open, revealing a horde of cultists. They charged forward, screaming obscenities against the Emperor and blasphemous prayers to the Dark Gods.
The stormtroopers opened fire, and the cultists did likewise as they charged. A dozen cultists were down before they were halfway to the stormtroopers' position.
The the Retinue sprang into action. A rippling storm of fire erupted from Venatus' mechadendrites, and Maren and Augustus raised their pistols and open fire. Over a dozen further cultists fell, then they were upon stormtroopers line.
The well-trained Imperial soldiers sprang to their feet to engage the enemy, drawing their chainswords. Though they were outnumbered nearly four to one, each stormtrooper fought with much more skill than their adversaries.
Simon focused, drawing on the power of the Warp. He channeled the energy into the material world, distributing it amongst the stormtroopers. Each man suddenly became faster, psychic energy speeding up their movements and perception of the word.
Sara, though cut off from the main body of the force, fought like a daemon. Her boneswords spun and flashed as she moved through the cultists in a vaguely circular pattern, stopping the cultists from effectively surrounding her.
As Maren and Venatus waded into the battle, Simon hung back, maintaining the blessing he was casting on the stormtroopers. He watched, eyes narrow, as the number of psychic presences in the room steadily dropped.
There were somewhere near five liters of blood in the human body, and given that the stormtroopers carried chainswords, they seemed to spill most of it. As the tainted blood of their foes began to cover the floor, the stormtroopers advanced with discipline, the thinning numbers of their foes allowing them to spread out more without being overwhelmed.
Simon began to advance to keep the stormtroopers within the easy range of his benediction, but the fight was already over. A few cultists turned and began to flee, but the stormtroopers drew their hotshot lasguns and cut them down as they fled.
Simon released the power he was holding, and he felt a wave of exhaustion wash over him. He took a deep breath, then looked at Sara.
She looked like a nightmare. Her red and silver carapace was soaked with blood, and sparks of psychic energy discharged from her boneswords, a clear sign of their recent use. She was slumped slightly, and was clearly breathing heavily.
Sara looked around, seeing the stormtroopers securing the perimeter. Her body began to glow and seemed to fold in on itself, boneswords and carapace collapsing away to abstraction. Blood fell around her like rain for a moment as the carapace it covered disappeared, then a naked girl fell to her knees in middle of a pool of blood, gasping.
Simon reached into a pouch on his armor and removed a fold-up gown he had prepared for the occasion. He walked toward Sara, a smile on his face.
[x]
"I don't know how I can ever repay you!" The President of Sernsiwui said, his rolls of fat bouncing as he gestured empathetically. "That cult could have killed everyone on this planet! I still don't know how you managed to do it, but thank you for rooting it out. How can we possibly thank you?"
"The trade routes I want to run through here would be a good place to start, and then maybe the cash reward would be a good second step." Augustus said. "After that, well, I can always use more lucrative assets. A few shares in you gas mines would not go amiss."
"Yes, yes, of course." The governor said. "That is all quite reasonable."
"And to prevent this from happening again, you might consider hiring the services of a security contractor. I know a few very good ones, but if..."
"That would be wonderful!" The president said, waving his hands. "I'm sure we could all sleep better if we had some experienced security personnel on world. The idea of a cult here, of all places..."
Sara watched as Augustus and the President began discussing future security measures. Several scribes approached the pair and began discussing specifics. She turned toward Simon, who was watching with interest.
"Do you understand what they're talking about?" Sara asked.
"Not entirely." Simon respond. "I know Augustus is trying to get the Sernsiwui President to take the plunge and hire Sentinel Security, which we happen to own. They're not cheap, though, but they're pretty much the best."
"I see." Sara said. "But we benefit if he hires them, right?"
"Yes, but we benefit either way." Simon said. "The cash reward for taking down a secret cult of this size is enough to buy a small starship, and over time the trade routes and gas mines will be worth even more."
"Okay." Sara said. "So what are they talking about now?"
"They're negotiating." Simon explained. "You can't settle every disagreement by fighting. So now they're talking about how much the services we rendered the planet are worth, and what exact amounts would be appropriate for the reward."
"Um, yeah, about that." Sara said. "Why did we have to kill all those cultists? I mean, I get that they were bad, but why couldn't we have negotiated with them?"
"Short answer?" Simon said. "Because they were crazy. Chaos twisted their minds. Once you reach a certain stage in the cult, you can't be reasoned with. They would have infected others with their madness, and they needed to be put down before that could happen."
"Oh." Sara said. "That seems... sad."
Simon sighed. "It is, but that's the way of this world. Faith in the Emperor is the only safe path."
"Um... yeah." Sara said.
"Anyway, there's a space hulk that's been popping a few dozen light years back toward Imperial space." Simon said. "I think we're going to go look into that next. We almost certainly won't be fighting humans, so you don't have to worry about that."