Disclaimer: I do not own Warhammer 40,000 it is owned by Games Workshop.

Disclaimer: The Roboutian Heresy is a FanFiction penned by Zahariel. I have received permission from him to set this piece within the universe of The Roboutian Heresy.

Blood of Ignorance

Chapter 1

"Xanthis…!"

The psyker looked up, and following both the presence and the voice turned to look at his approaching fellow acolyte. "Oh hey Castella…" Xanthis Wolfe remarked with a smile. "…did the Inquisitor call?"

Castella Megehra nodded as she walked up to him. Xanthis closed his book and rose from the bench he'd been sitting on, taking a look at the Prosperine garden around them. Though Prospero was long since desolate, its cities destroyed by the treacherous Sixth and the ruins all but swallowed up by the desert, the Thousand Sons had kept elements of their lost original homeworld alive.

One such tradition among the desert people of Prospero was the creation of large, elaborate gardens with plenty of running water, leafy trees and flowering shrubs and bushes, and large patches of verdant grass. One such garden was present within the armoured citadel of the strike cruiser Isometric, and indeed, in all large vessels of the XV Legiones Astartes' fleet.

Despite appearances, it wasn't just a matter of keeping Prospero's traditions alive, or even a matter of 'rounding out' their lifestyles, as much as Astartes had lifestyles, as in the case of the Emperor's Children. As some of the most powerful psykers among Mankind, or even in the whole galaxy, the Thousand Sons understood very well the importance of control.

Like all psykers – well sanctioned psykers at any rate – they knew that any loss of control could leave them vulnerable to the Warp, either causing their powers to go into a devastating and uncontrolled rampage at best, or turning them into possessed or opening a Warp rift at worst. The basic and arguably the most effective means of achieving and maintaining control was meditation, focusing on various mantras such as the Thousand Sons' Enumerations or the various other discipline and control mantras provided by the scholars of the Scholastica Psykana and other Imperial psychic institutions to chain one's emotions and anchor one's mind and soul.

Meditation could technically be done anywhere, even on the battlefield, though it required considerable effort and could distract the adept from matters at hand. For instance, it wasn't exactly easy to focus one's mind on maintaining both one's spiritual barriers, reducing one's psychic echo in the Warp to the barest possible minimum, and collecting and manifesting psychic power into a jet of fire or some other psychic ability all at the same time while dodging shots or swings from an enemy.

Meditation was done best in quiet places with soothing and calming environments. Done sufficiently, one could effectively internalize in memory the effects of such places, and use them to help anchor one's self to maintain and extend control in more hectic situations.

The Prosperine garden in the Isometric was one such place for the Thousand Sons CDXII Cabal, though other places existed aboard. There was the archive aboard for one, and the personal quarters of each legionary, or even the common assembly area among other places. Xanthis had certainly seen more than a few Thousand Sons from the Isometric's cabal meditating in the Prosperine garden during the times he'd also taken advantage of the place's calm.

There weren't any Thousand Sons present right now though, and Xanthis perceived that whatever reason the Inquisitor was summoning them it was going to involve the Thousand Sons as well.

Cyril Velarion, Master of the CDXII Cabal of the XV Legiones Astartes cut an imposing figure in his artificer plate, the golden Aquila on his chest a striking contrast to the blood red of his armour. Gold edged his armour sections, while white bordered the pauldrons, the legion emblem of the Thousand Sons emblazoned on the left and the cult emblem of the Athaneans on the right. Purity seals hung from the edges of the pauldrons, a golden chain linking the pauldrons over the Astartes' chest, a gilded Crux Terminatus hanging from the chain where it was hooked onto the left pauldron.

Cyril's helmet was off, an iron halo silhouetting his shaven head from behind, currently inactive, but the psychic hood was, glowing faint blue with the cabal master's psychic aura. A bolt pistol was holstered at the cabal master's left hip, and a force sword with a guard shaped like a pair of eagle's wings was sheathed on the opposite side.

In contrast to the cabal master was Ordo Xenos Inquisitor Weiss von Eiderzeit, the scholarly-looking, middle-aged woman in simple, black, utilitarian wear completely unimpressive next to the Astartes. But any who looked in her eyes would see at once both a spark of intelligence and an unbreakable will, and psykers would sense what could best be described as an impenetrable and inscrutable object.

The only embellishments the Inquisitor possessed were the Inquisitorial rosette pinned over her left breast, and the gold thread and buttons that held her black cape in place. A bolt pistol was holstered at her waist, and simple yet elegant rings glittered on her right hand, at least one of which probably incorporated Jokaero digital weaponry.

Acolytes Xanthis and Castella entered the meeting room, and bowing at the cabal master made their way to stand behind the Inquisitor. One by one, other Astartes filtered into the room, and then the armoured doors were closed, psychic wards falling into place.

Xanthis took a brief but veiled look around. The CDXII Cabal was larger than most Thousand Sons cabals, with fifteen members, six of which held Terminator Honours if their cruxes were any indication.

Xanthis blinked and then focused on the matter at hand. Cyril opened the meeting, and then gave the floor to Artaxerxes, the lone Corvidae in the cabal and its second-in-command.

Inquisitor Weiss listened as the Corvidae detailed his visions, and how he'd confirmed the threat through repeated casting of the runes and the Emperor's Tarot afterwards. Not strictly necessary, Corvidae seers were easily a match for most Eldar Farseers when it came to peering through the mists of time, but considering the nature of the vision it had been judged prudent to confirm just in case.

Artaxerxes finished detailing his visions, and Cyril revealed that he'd already ordered the Isometric to set course for the world of Tijuana, along the Tau-Imperial frontier, which between Artaxerxes' visions, consultation with the Isometric's Navigator, and the perturbations of the machine spirits of the Isometric's logic engines, was determined to be the world in question. "Tijuana…?" the Inquisitor echoed. "How unusual, that place isn't worth much."

"Correct…" Cyril said with a nod. "…before its usurpation by the Tau, it was barely a civilized world, which tithed only refined fuel from the system's gas giant, which was refined and stored on Tijuana. If our records are correct, the PDF – even if it hadn't been compromised by xenos sympathizers and renegades – wouldn't have been able to put up more than a token defence before switching to guerrilla warfare."

The Inquisitor leaned forward, resting an elbow on the table. The hololith projected several images into the air: Tijuana, its system, and the surrounding sub-sector. "However…" she said. "…the world could not only be said to have been under-defended, but also undervalued can it not?"

"Quite right…" Cyril conceded. "…it might have had minimal industry and population, but it was a significant source of fuel in the region, and boasted extensive orbital fuelling and maintenance facilities relative to the planet's development. However it was only defended – at the time – by anaemic SDF fighter and bomber squadrons."

"What worries me is that the Tau might have learned from the locals' mistakes when they usurped the planet."Artaxerxes added. "I wouldn't put it past those clever little bastards. And there were those battlesuits I saw in my vision. Battlesuits are elite forces, the Tau's best. For them to be present on a backwater world as this…"

"Tijuana isn't really that important outside of its fuel." Constantine Nimean, who bore the Seal of the Champion opposite his Crux Terminatus put in. "Also, it's rather out of the way. However…"

The champion paused to press several keys on the hololith's control. Two images appeared, one of the adjacent sub-sectors, and another of an Imperial fleet assembling in orbit over a gas giant. "The Imperium is moving to reclaim this sub-sector." Constantine said. "A fairly-sizeable fleet is being assembled for that isn't there? Over a hundred ships, along with a full Imperial Guard army group and a chapter-sized formation from either or both the World Eaters and the Night Lords joining in."

"We'll have to coordinate with them then." Illyrion Cybellium said, the other Athanean in the cabal. "It wouldn't do for us to do as we please and mess up the greater Imperium's operations in the process."

"We are dealing with a potential Chaos incursion." The Inquisitor said. "With that said, yes I see your point. We should coordinate with the upcoming Imperial operation. However, it doesn't seem like you wanted to point only that out, champion."

"Correct…" Constantine said with a nod. "…Tijuana as an out-of-the-way locale along with its plentiful fuel reserves makes it useful to hide a reserve force in for the right time."

"If so then they're underestimating the Night Lords." Artaxerxes remarked dryly. "Apart from the Alpha Legion or the treacherous First, there's no other legion best suited for covert work. They'd see through it in an instant."

"The question is if they can act on it." Cyril added. "The operation in this sub-sector is fairly significant, but ultimately it's just another act in the on-going border conflict between the Imperium and the Tau. With the Tyranid incursions across the entire segmentum, neither of us will risk too many forces in the region. To be honest, the forces our allies are massing would seem large for this conflict, but actually it's only what should be expected for a sub-sector scale campaign. If we disperse them too much, we'd lose the advantages of concentrating our forces and risk giving the Tau the opportunity to defeat our allies one by one."

"Then perhaps we can be of use in the upcoming campaign." Illyrion mused. "Apart from the Chaos threat, we could neutralize Tijuana's assets, such as say destroying the refineries and fuel depots."

"That could work." Cyril agreed, and similar murmurs of agreement rippled through the Thousand Sons gathered. Inquisitor Weiss didn't appear to share the sentiment however, and Cyril noticed this.

"Do you have an objection, Inquisitor?" he asked politely.

"From a purely-strategic point of view that proposal has merit." She said. "But won't it render Tijuana useless for some years after compliance until the fuel refining and storage facilities are repaired?"

"A fair point…" Cyril conceded. "…hmm, perhaps if we only sabotage and disable them? In that way we can still help our allies by taking Tijuana off the board while focusing on the greater threat at the same time."

"I don't think we can neutralize the fuel depots without destroying them." Constantine pointed out. "However, if we destroy the fuel depots and storage facilities, we remove the need to attack the refineries themselves while still achieving our objectives."

Again, murmurs of agreement echoed from the Thousand Sons present. "So we'll destroy the fuel depots to disable by association the refineries. That should work." He said before taking a look around the table. "Any objections…?"

The Thousand Sons and the Inquisitor telepathically replied in the negative, and Cyril nodded. "Excellent, we'll adopt that strategy then." He said. He then manipulated the holo-map to focus on the Tijuana system. "We'll communicate our intentions with our allies. Now, moving on to the operation itself, for now I say we defer any definite plans against the cult until we actually reach the planet. There's not much we can do if we can't do that much after all. We'll use our cloak to approach the planet undetected. Of course, that's useless against active sensor sweeps, so we'll send Thunderhawks in as recon first before making the final approach."

The cabal master swept the table with his eyes. "Once we figure out the scale of their orbital defences, we'll prepare our plans accordingly." He said. "Our first objective is to root out the Chaos cult before they achieve whatever infernal goal they have. Second, it's to support our allies in the upcoming operation. As such secrecy will be paramount, though once the operation begins that may or may not be reduced in importance. Any objections…?"

There were none, and the cabal master nodded. "Very well…" he said. "…this meeting is adjourned then."

"Inquisitor…" Castella asked as she and Xanthis joined the Inquisitor in her quarters. "…isn't it rather unusual that a Chaos cult would choose a lightly-populated world as their base of operations?"

"What's so unusual about it?" Weiss asked back. "That's probably the whole point. It's an obscure, undervalued backwater, so far beneath the Imperium's notice before the Tau usurpation. It's likely the cult was already there when the Tau came, and probably adjusted their plans accordingly."

"And the Tau being ignorant little fools…" Xanthis began. "…the xenos probably didn't notice as the cult began to extend its influence in the aftermath?"

"Probably so…" Weiss agreed. "…and with so much of the Inquisition's assets spread thin due to the Tyranid incursions, the backwater nature of the world, and the Tau being the Ordo Xenos' responsibility, the Ordo Malleus probably missed it. We're not infallible after all, and when we make mistakes…"

The Inquisitor trailed off, not that her two acolytes needed it to be finished. They'd both been present when the Inquisitor along with several others had hunted down a radical member of their organization, who'd make an insane pact with the Dark Eldar and a daemonic power to hunt down an Ultramarine warband of all things. That it had ended in exterminatus and cost the lives of several billion Imperial citizens to resolve was proof enough that when the Inquisition made a mistake, the results could be catastrophic.

"What worries me is that the cult might have witches that could foresee the coming operation." Weiss said. "The xenos have a weak presence in the Warp, but you can always make up for a shortfall in quality with quantity. An entire reserve force devoured by the Warp, coupled with the souls of the Humans living on Tijuana, it just might be enough to drag the entire planet into the Warp as Brother Artaxerxes foresaw."

"A new daemon world will be born?" Xanthis murmured.

"Yes." Weiss said. "We can't let that happen. The Tau and the Tyranids are bad enough, so let's not add the Great Enemy to the list of enemies we already have to deal with in this sector."

She looked at her acolytes. "When the time comes…" she said. "…I'll have you work closely with the Thousand Sons. Especially you, Xanthis: your telepathic abilities will make you well-suited for working with the Thousand Sons and their Spireguard auxiliaries."

Xanthis nodded. "I understand, Inquisitor." He said, and Weiss nodded back.

Two Astartes strode down the corridors leading to the Isometric's astropathic choir. One might think that as a legion composed entirely of psykers the Thousand Sons would be more tolerant of their fellow psykers than other Imperial organizations. And they'd be right to an extent.

It was their Primarch Magnus the Red who had successfully argued for improved facilities aboard the black ships during the Great Crusade, which remains the case to the present day despite attempts by mono-dominants and other individuals to have his proposal repealed. Instead of simply holding psykers like cattle in psi-shielded bays, psykers were held in individual psi-shielded stasis pods, and while they remained sedated and sanctioned psykers maintained a disruption field over the holding areas, the adoption of the primarch's proposal had increased the survival rate and the number of sane and uncorrupted psykers to reach Terra, where their powers would be properly-honed in service to Mankind.

The planet Prospero, original homeworld of the Thousand Sons had in fact held a large psyker population, as did their current homeworld of Terathalion. Indeed, there were those who argued and still argue – probably correctly – that Magnus' efforts to make the black ships more humane was not simply out of common Humanity, but also as a service to those of his people who boarded the black ships.

But it was also because the Thousand Sons were all psykers – at least after the Rubric was cast, during the Great Crusade while the legion's senior officers were all psykers most of the rank-and-file held no psychic talent – that the legion was actually just as wary of psykers as the rest of the Imperium. The legion had seen all manner of consequences of psykers going rogue, driven insane or falling to Chaos during the Great Crusade, during the Roboutian Heresy, and in the millennia since. And of course there were the legion's renegades, hated and hunted down by the legion's brothers as a stain on their honour.

And finally, there was one of the XV Legion's greatest secrets, known only to a few outside the legion, and during the Great Crusade only to its upper hierarchy, as well as the leadership and select forces of the Prosperine Dominion at the time. When Magnus the Red had discovered the designs of the dark god Tzeentch for his legion, he had conducted a thorough sweep and purge of Prospero, and had in fact uncovered several fledgling cults of Tzeentch in its populace.

And not just its populace: as part of Magnus' directive, one amended after the casting of the Rubric and the establishment of the Archive of Shame, the archives and libraries of Prospero were swept clean of knowledge connected to Chaos, either destroyed or surrendered to the agents of Malcador the Sigillite.

These efforts were maintained throughout the Great Crusade, and were instrumental in keeping the worlds of the Prosperine Dominion – such that had survived the Space Wolves' rampage during and after the Burning of Prospero – free of the taint of Chaos during the dark years of the Roboutian Heresy.

It was for this reason that the Isometric's astropathic choir was kept isolated from the rest of the ship, as was the case in other vessels. The Thousand Sons were psykers too, but they were Astartes as well, and like the librarians of other legions could count on trans-Human willpower and much more soul-testing and soul-scouring training than other psykers in Imperial service. The development and adoption of psychic hoods was another factor, and finally, in the Thousand Sons' case, the Rubric also imparted significant protection of its own, not least of which was immunity to further mutation, if at great cost to the legion's legacy as a whole.

In contrast, soul-binding aside astropaths could only call on their own all-too Human willpower to protect themselves against the dangers of the Warp. As the ancient saying went, 'better safe than sorry'.

A full squad of Spireguard stood protectively around the entrance into the astropathic choir's chambers, encased in carapace armour and with hot-shot lasguns at the ready. Two of them carried flamers, and four other squads were less than a minute away, ready to scramble in case of containment breach.

The Spireguard saluted as the two Astartes approached, and then Cyril entered his command code into the security lock. The code was accepted, and then with the hiss of equalizing pressure and the sound of heavy bolts sliding back, huge armoured doors slid open.

Cyril and Constantine entered, passing down a corridor lined with doors leading into comfortable but simple accommodations, storage, and utility rooms, the armoured doors sealing behind them. The walls were all lined with thrice-blessed silver, forged into a hexagram pattern and fixed net-like on the walls. Finally they reached a round chamber, five astropaths rising and bowing as they approached.

"How may we be of assistance, Cabal Master Velarion?" the senior astropath asked. He was a tall man in his forties, robed in the white and green of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica, a green strip of cloth emblazoned with his institution's emblem tied around his head, and masking his empty eye sockets.

"I'll need to send a message to the Imperial expedition gathering at Gallus VI." Cyril replied. "I will need your assistance in this, in order to open and maintain an astropathic channel."

"Of course my lord." The man said with a bow. "However I must warn you of the risk of an astropathic channel, which comes with the improved reception and transmission rate."

"I am aware." Cyril said, and glanced at Constantine. "The champion here will provide protection, a fail-safe, and if necessary, do what must be done."

"Very well then my lord." The astropath said. Cyril nodded at the man, and as the astropaths moved into a pentagonal arrangement, Cyril took his place in the centre.

Constantine took a step back, and drawing his force sword held it up before him two-handed. He activated the psi-converter, and golden flames erupted along its edges. A member of the Pyrae cult, he was a capable telepath in his own right however, and he kept his telepathic senses attuned to the minds and souls of the psykers in front of him.

The astropaths began to chant their focusing mantras, staves raised towards the cabal master in the centre, the Enumerations echoing through the ether from his mind. A bluish glow surrounded the astropaths, merging with each other and washing over the cabal master, who floated gently into the air, his hands outstretched to either side, spheres of psychic energy pooling in his hands.

As an Athanean, the cabal master was significantly more powerful than most epistolaries of other legions, but to create and maintain an astropathic channel was difficult and dangerous. Usually this was done by full choirs on Imperial worlds, or large conclaves of legion librarians of other legions and multiple Thousand Sons cabals.

In this case however, the cabal master could only call on himself, and on five astropaths. Fortunately the destination was close by, and there were no vortices of Chaos nearby, at least none violent enough to breach into real space. Hopefully that would be enough.

It would be nearly twelve hours later that Cyril floated down to stand on his own feet again. The glow vanished, the astropaths weakly falling into the cushions and seats in the choir chamber. Constantine made a sweep, and deactivating his sword sheathed it. "How did the matter go?" he asked.

"I've informed our allies." Cyril said. "They've confirmed, and will be sending us an amended copy – in light of our activities – of the strategic plan they'll be using."

"So how big a force will it be?"

"The fleet's almost ready." Cyril said, leading the way out of the choir chambers, leaving the astropaths behind to rest and recover. "One Emperor Class, six Overlord Classes, ten Lunar Classes, and eighteen Dictator Classes: those are all the capital ships involved in the operation. Over a hundred escorts of the Sword and Cobra Classes will be involved."

"And our cousins…?"

Cyril smiled. "It seems the LV Chapter of the VIII Legion will be deploying in full with the fleet." He said, and Constantine laughed.

"A full chapter of the Night Lords…?" he said as they left the choir chambers, armoured doors sealing behind them. "I might pity the Tau, except they don't really deserve it, do they?"

"True." Cyril said with a laugh of his own. "However the fleet's still gathering. The capitals are all present, but many of the escorts are not, along with a significant portion of the Imperial Guard elements. The Warp being the Warp, it'll take time for them to reach the assembly area."

"We have some time to finish things, eh?" Constantine asked. "If we do root out this cult before the campaign begins, then what?"

"Obviously we join them." Cyril said. "Normally our legion would only join truly critical campaigns due to our limited numbers, but we can hardly turn our backs on our allies in this situation."

Constantine laughed again. "I prefer a fair fight anyway." He said. "Though even then, against us not much is fair, is it?"

"No, it is not."

A/N

Red Server: you might get disappointed then. The Tau are in for a bruising.