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 3

"Eldar?" Cyril echoed. "Biel-Tan?"

Artaxerxes nodded. "I have seen what I have seen." He said. "I've examined the visions thoroughly through the Enumerations, and I've even checked the Tarot. The vision is at least worthy of consideration."

"Hmm," Cyril hummed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Well this certainly complicates things. Biel-Tan…the most warlike of all Craftworlds. It will be a problem if the whole warhost is at Tijuana."

The cabal master glanced at the Corvidae, who shook his head. "It doesn't seem as though the whole warhost will be there, but I am certain that a significant force, at least comparable to a Legiones Astartes Strike Force will be there." He said.

"So a few hundred Eldar or so," Cyril said thoughtfully. "Mostly Guardians, though since this is Biel-Tan we're talking about they'll probably have more Aspect Warriors than would be normally be expected. And that doesn't count heavy vehicles, though I think we can safely discount the Eldar bringing Titans along."

"I did not see any Titans in my vision." Artaxerxes said. "But even without that, I doubt if they'd bring them anyway, if their strike force is of relatively-small size."

Cyril nodded, and glanced at those of his brothers present, along with an acolyte representing their guests. Finally, he turned back to Artaxerxes. "What of the Eldar's fleet strength?" he asked.

"At least two Dragonships," the Corvidae replied. "Along with a number of Shadowhunters and a smaller number of Wraithships. Any more than that I could not see, or for that matter, what configuration the Biel-Tan will be using."

"The last would be asking too much even for the Corvidae, I would think." Constantine said.

"I agree." Cyril said, before nodding at the cabal's champion. "So, what do you think Constantine, of the Eldar's presence on that backwater world?"

"I think they're there for the same reason we are." Constantine replied. "Chaos."

"And?"

"I say we should keep our eyes open, and our backs guarded." The champion continued. "And that we should focus our attentions on the heretics. So long as the knife-ears don't raise a hand against us, then we should leave them be. Chaos is a far more pressing threat by comparison."

"And afterwards?" Illyrion asked.

"Afterwards will be a problem for afterwards." Constantine said. "We've all seen Artaxerxes' vision of what should happen if Chaos succeeds here. This might sound more than a little treasonous, but if suffering the xenos' presence on an Imperial world for a time is the price to pay to defeat the Forces of Chaos, then it's a price we must pay."

The Inquisitorial acolyte looked very uncomfortable at that, but most of the Astartes present were nodding with grim expressions on their faces. "I am in agreement." Cyril said. "It would only serve the Great Enemy's purposes if we expend our strength against the Eldar and exhaust ourselves in the process. Treasonous as it might be on principle, necessity dictates we must consider Chaos a common enemy to be prioritized at this time. We'll be careful for any tricks the Eldar might pull, but so long as they stand against them, we'll leave them be, at least until heresy is cleansed from Tijuana."

"They'll probably just leave afterwards, though." One of the younger Thousand Sons said. "Will we let them?"

"It's probably best to let them go." Artaxerxes opined. "They outnumber us in space, and while I do not fear death in battle if I had to die I would rather die with real meaning for the Emperor, and not for blind pride and principle."

"I understand." The young Thousand Son said with a bow. "I apologize for speaking out of turn."

"And," Constantine said with an expression of distaste on his face. "Depending on how the battle goes, we might have to fight side-by-side with those knife-ears. I don't like it, but if that's what it takes to stop the heretics and whatever it is they're up to, I'll do it. But if so, attacking those with whom we were alongside just a moment ago, is rather…dishonorable."

"The Eldar might not feel the same way." Cyril pointed out.

"If they strike first after we beat the heretics," Constantine said. "Then we'll finish the fight. But we shouldn't start it."

Cyril nodded and looked up at the holographic map of the sub-sector, icons indicating their forces forging their way through the Warp to Tijuana. "In addition to what I said earlier," he said. "If the Eldar simply decide to leave after the heretics are beaten, then we'll let them go. If they fought alongside us it'll be dishonorable to start hostilities on the spot. And even if we didn't, there's no point in fighting a battle that would cost us needlessly for nothing more than blind pride and principle. Lives are precious. They should not be spent foolishly, when they can be lived for the greater glory of the Emperor."

There were nods of assent at that. "Of course," Cyril said with narrowed eyes and a harsh smile. "If the Eldar start something, we'll finish it."

There were more nods at that. "Moving on," the cabal master said. "The Eldar and Chaos aside, there is the Tau to consider in further detail."

The cabal master paused to sweep the gathering again, before turning back to the holographic map. "Originally my strategy was to leave the pacification of Tijuana to the crusade as it swept through this region of space." He said. "In hindsight, that may not be so wise."

There were surprised sounds at this. "Depending on how deeply-rooted the cults are," the cabal master said. "We may have to sweep the planet ourselves for the lingering aftereffects of their influence, even after the cults themselves are destroyed. And even then, we may have to place this star system under quarantine, until the Ordo Hereticus can conduct a proper purity sweep."

Cyril paused to regard the gathering. "If so," he said. "We'll have to deal with the Tau presence on our own, or what's left of it, before the Ordo Hereticus arrives, to better ensure a good start to the purity sweep."

"In short," Illyrion said. "So the purity sweep can focus solely on the heretics and the unclean hidden among the populace, we'll rid the world of any potentially troublesome Tau before the witch-hunters arrive."

"That is so."

Illyrion nodded. "It's a good plan." He said. "We should adopt it."

There was general agreement at that. "Very good," Cyril said, adjusting the hologram controls to show an image of the Tijuana Star System. "According to Artaxerxes, the Tau in-system have already been cut off from the rest of their ilk in the sub-sector, with their communications relay in the outer system destroyed. Likewise, what heavy patrol forces they had, have also been destroyed by the Eldar."

"Sounds like the Eldar did a lot of our work for us." One Thousand Son said.

"But," Cyril said, homing in on the planet itself. "Tijuana's high orbit defenses remain intact: two Ion Cannon Orbitals, and apparently the Tau have stationed Barracuda and Manta squadrons on the orbital docks themselves."

"The Eldar must be using the Webway to go to and fro between the planet's surface and their fleet, and bypassing the high orbit defenses entirely." Illyrion said. "Sneaky bastards…"

"We'll take them out." Cyril said, smiling as eyes turned to him. "We'll make a high-speed approach through the outer system, and run silent across the inner system to Tijuana, using our telepathy and pyromancy to cloak ourselves as originally planned to Tau perceptions and sensors alike. And then…"

Cyril theatrically paused and chuckled. "Then," he continued. "We'll do as Space Marines are meant to do."

"Lightning blitz." Constantine said, before laughing and smiling himself. "Are we Space Marines or not?"

"Of course we are."

"That we are."

Ordo Xenos Inquisitor Weiss von Eiderzeit listened in her quarters aboard the Isometric as her acolyte gave the report. Normally she'd have attended the cabal master's meeting herself, but she'd developed an issue with one of her augmetics, and had been in the Apothecarion with part of her head cut open at the time, forcing her to send an acolyte in her place.

"Hmm," the inquisitor mused as the report finished. "It's not a normally condonable action, but in this case I think Cabal Master Velarion is correct. We need to focus on the Great Enemy before the Eldar. But…"

"Can we really trust the Eldar not to strike at our backs while we're busy with the Great Enemy, inquisitor?" Xanthis asked.

"Indeed," Weiss said darkly and with a nod of agreement. "The Eldar are likely present to fight the Great Enemy, but depending on who is leading them…"

The inquisitor sighed and sat back, gingerly touching the bandages wrapped around her temples. "An Eldar who'll let their arrogance and disdain to get to their head is more likely to preemptively take action against us," she said. "Out of the belief that our efforts will do more harm than good."

The inquisitor paused and snorted. "The Eldar are among the oldest foes of the Great Enemy." She told her acolytes, sweeping them with her gaze. "That cannot be denied. However, it also cannot be denied that the Eldar arrogantly consider themselves the only ones truly able to oppose it, and no one else. Perhaps if they actually stopped and thought what might happen should we of the Inquisition among others ceased to oppose the Great Enemy…"

"Inquisitor…!"

Weiss smiled and held up a hand. "I am just pointing out a scenario." She said. "Let me finish."

The acolytes looked troubled, but did as asked. "As I was saying," the inquisitor continued. "If they actually stopped and thought what might happen should we of the Inquisition among others ceased to oppose the Great Enemy, then considering the limitations of their own kind even if we didn't support the Great Enemy but didn't oppose it either, what do you think would happen?"

"It'll be the end." Castella said softly.

"The Eldar cannot be do everything on their own, no matter how much they think they can." Weiss said. "Even we of the Inquisition understand our limitations, and even though we of the Ordo Xenos and our colleagues in the Ordo Hereticus provide plenty of support when needed to the Ordo Malleus, or even – as in this case – take on their duties when none of their agents are readily available, what we do is only enough to hold back the tide."

"For ten thousand years we have kept watch over the Imperium," Weiss continued. "We have exposed, rooted out, burned and stamped out heresy and deviancy, and yet the Great Enemy continues to extend its feelers out into the Emperor's realm."

Weiss sighed and rubbed her forehead. "If the Eldar have a fool at their head on Tijuana," she said. "We – and the Thousand Sons – will have to fight them and the Great Enemy at the same time. I shudder to think what might happen, when the Great Enemy comes against those who should oppose it and find them divided."

The acolytes were silent, and then Weiss sighed. "Well," she said. "I suppose there's also a chance the Eldar will have someone with a working head on their shoulders leading them. They'll probably avoid stepping on our toes, and if so, we should return the favor."

The acolytes nodded, and then the one who'd attended the meeting earlier spoke up. "Speaking of which," he began. "The cabal master would like to speak with you, inquisitor. He said he wanted to discuss matters pertaining to the Inquisition's obligation to the world of our destination after the cults and the Tau are cleansed from it, and making preparations thereof."

"I see." He said. "Well, I suppose I can't exactly refuse a request from a Thousand Sons Cabal Master in his own ship, can I now? And in any case, the request is a reasonable one. I'll make myself presentable, and then go see the cabal master."

"Yes, inquisitor."

Reality silently tore apart in wildly-contorting rifts of unreal light that shimmered in millions of colors that existed and did not exist in the universe, the light of distant stars passing close to the rifts changing as they did so, taking on a hostile and repugnant quality.

Mighty shapes heaved themselves out of the Warp rifts, Geller Fields flickering in translucent patterns as they maintained bubbles of reality around the great ships of the XV Legiones Astartes, protecting them and those aboard from the dangers of the Warp. Most of the ships were small, one-kilometer long Cobra Class Destroyers, though the ship at the heart of the flotilla was larger, approximately four kilometers in length, the Legiones Astartes Strike Cruiser Isometric.

As the transition to real space was completed, the Warp rifts collapsed, the wounds in reality closing and starlight returning to normal. Geller Fields flickered out, the Isometric and her escorts – fourteen Cobras – reorienting themselves and reestablishing regular communications.

Well away from Thousand Sons' ships, a quartet of Eldar Shadowhunters leisurely coasted through open space, solar sails flickering from the distant light of the system's solar primary. On the command deck of the lead ship, Shipmaster Maelor looked at a holographic screen displaying the Thousand Sons ships in space.

"Inform the honored farseer," he commanded. "The mon'keigh have come. And as she foresaw, it is the sons of the King in Crimson."

"Understood, shipmaster." One of the bridge crew responded.

Maelor stepped back from the deck, looking on as the Thousand Sons stayed where they were, apparently unaware of their – Biel-Tan's – presence. Blinking once, he turned his head to one of his trusted officers, sensing the younger male's unease. "You have something on your mind, Aerion?" he asked.

"It is not my place to question the honored farseer's judgment." Aerion replied from his station on the command deck.

Maelor chuckled. "And yet you hold doubts?" he asked.

"So I do." Aerion said. "Despite what the honored farseer might say, I cannot bring myself to trust that the mon'keigh will not bring ruination, be it to their world or our efforts against the Primordial Annihilator, with them. It is what they do, crude and brutish as they are, barely more civilized than the Orks."

"Perhaps they are." Maelor agreed, but he didn't say anything for several moments afterwards. "But as crude and brutish as they are, at least they are not ignorant. The Tau on the other hand are ignorant fools, blind and unknowing of the truth of the cosmos."

Maelor paused, and turned to his subordinate. "I would sooner deal with learned barbarians than with ignorant fools." He said.

"I apologize for any offense caused, shipmaster." Aerion said with a humble bow.

Maelor nodded slowly before turning to look out from the command deck once more. "You didn't." he said. "But I understand how you feel. If you cannot trust in the mon'keigh, then at least trust in the honored farseer. It's what I do as well."

"I understand, and humbly accept your advice, shipmaster."

Gue'vesa operators sat at their stations in the orbital control center on Tijuana's orbital decks. The past couple of weeks had been rather trouble-filled, with plenty of terrorist attacks by the Eldar targeting the homes and properties of the followers of the Fourfold Ideal, to say nothing of the Eldar's distraction operations (which also steadily bled out the Tau forces on Tijuana and their auxiliaries).

Not all the Eldar attacks had been successful of course. From the first and only (and failed) attempt at diplomacy between the Tau and the Eldar over Tijuana, the Tau had known that for some inexplicable reason the Eldar had it out for the Fourfold Ideal.

Once the Eldar had been confirmed as behind the attacks, Shas'O Har'rax had stationed Fire Warriors to guard the properties of the Fourfold Ideal as an organization, as well as the residences of their more prominent members and leaders. Rapid-response teams were also prepared to reinforce the guards where and when needed, while the Tau's strategy to deal with the Eldar interlopers had been adjusted as per the tenets of Kauyon, the Patient Hunter, allowing the Tau to finally respond to the Eldar effectively, if largely still on the defensive.

In particular, the Eldar's primary base of operations on the planet remained unaccounted for, and the Tau still found it difficult to face the Eldar in the wilderness. And in space, the Tau currently lacked the ability to find much less challenge the Eldar Fleet in-system to decisive battle.

So far though, apart from destroying the communications relay and the patrol Orca, the Eldar Fleet had stayed quiet…so far.

And as a result, the orbital defenses remained on alert.

One operator was drinking from a polymer cup of water when alarms and sirens suddenly erupted to life. Flashing icons appeared on sensor screens, rapidly closing the distance to the orbitals and the orbital docks, along with larger icons that indicated warships.

Warships that somehow had appeared out of nowhere.

"Incoming torpedoes!" one operator shouted. "Reading sixteen, eight each headed for the orbitals to our flanks. This is…they're Imperial torpedoes! I repeat, they're Imperial torpedoes!"

"What?" Shas'el Miraish shouted in surprise from the command deck. "How did they…how many are they? And have the orbitals intercept, and have our Barracudas and Mantas commence emergency launch! Hurry!"

"I read one…one light cruiser-equivalent, and fourteen Cobra Class Destroyers." One Gue'vesa operator said, her voice quaking with fear.

"Equivalent?" her Fire Caste supervisor echoed. "Can't you identify the class?"

The operator turned, her face a mask of barely controlled terror. "It's the Space Marines!" she blurted out, causing gasps and cries of fear and horror from the Humans present.

"The Space Marines…"

"The Emperor's Angels of Death…"

"Emperor preserve us…what have we done?"

"Impacts!"

The orbitals' defense turrets flared bright again and again, magnetic forces hurling super-dense projectiles at hypersonic speeds at targets set by advanced targeting AIs, but while they managed to shoot down several torpedoes, it wasn't enough. Bright blue plasma flared through the darkness of space, followed by orange and white flares as the orbitals exploded, burning hulks beginning to spiral down, trailing debris as their orbits began to decay.

Two squadrons of four Cobras each began to burn retros, adopting screening formations against approaching Tau Manta bombers. While not as optimized for the role as the Sword Class, their weapon batteries could still throw out significant firepower when concentrated as a squadron.

The remaining squadron of six Cobras fired another volley of twelve torpedoes, aiming for the orbital docks this time. And then they too began to burn retros, to screen the strike cruiser as it continued to advance towards the orbital docks.

Mantas now screamed in, flares burning through the void as Imperial AA fire lit up the approaches, trying to pick the bombers off. The bombers dispersed, some going for the Cobras, while others went for the strike cruiser.

"Standby…" the commander of the lead formation said over the encrypted line as he soared down towards the Imperial capital ship. "…standby…standby…commence bombing run!"

Capacitors and electromagnets whined as the Manta's railgun battery fired, explosions bursting across the Imperial warship where hypersonic rounds had struck it. More explosions followed as the rest of the squadron performed their own bombing runs, and then the squadron leader hissed in dismay.

"No damage," he said. "That ship's heavily-armored…!"

And then he was flinching from a series of explosions, as his wingmen were shot out of the sky. Coming from below were bulky Imperial gunships, identified by his Manta's computers as 'Thunderhawks'. "Where are our escorts?" he roared, narrowly-avoiding a deadly volley of crimson death by a Thunderhawk's lascannons.

Almost as if on cue, Barracudas soared down the z-axis, burst cannons blazing at the Space Marine Thunderhawks. They dispersed, sparks flying from where burst cannon rounds struck and glanced off their armored hulls.

A dogfight ensued, the Thunderhawks using their heavy armament to keep the Barracudas from getting a good shot in, and when they coul the burst cannons were found to be largely ineffective against Thunderhawk armor. The ion cannon was more effective, and actually managed to damage a Thunderhawk severely enough to force it to retreat, though a pair of overeager Barracuda pilots attempting to pursue found themselves caught in a crossfire between three Thunderhawks to their death.

The Barracudas continued to pursue the Thunderhawks, which wove and swooped their way across the battlefield with agility and speed unexpected of their ungainly shapes. Soaring towards a turning Cobra, they abruptly broke and dispersed…

…as the Cobra fired its weapons battery, immolating nearly an entire squadron of Barracudas in laser fire.

Meanwhile, boarding torpedoes slammed into the orbital docks, intruder alerts screaming as they did so. A few torpedoes had been shot down by the orbital docks' AA turrets, but most made it through.

Hatches burst open, Spire Guard Veterans rushing out with lasguns at the ready. Gue'vesa and Earth Caste security arms-men took the brunt of the Spire Guard's wrath, laser rounds burning through security vests, their burst carbines ineffective against void-sealed carapace armor.

The Spire Guard advanced doggedly down the corridors, shooting at anything that moved, individuals fire-teams breaking off to secure rooms as they passed. Tossing frag grenades in the moment the doors were opened, the guardsmen then stormed the rooms and killed any survivors before rejoining the rest of their platoons as they advanced.

Fanning out from their entry points, the Spire Guard linked up their forces into a 'beachhead', setting up barricades and sealing up pressure doors (and welding them shut), forcing the Tau to come to them.

And come they did.

A squad of Fire Warriors blew through a pressure door, only for the first two Fire Warriors to come through to be shot to pieces by an autocannon. The rest took cover against the walls, but the autocannon continued to roar, suppressing the Tau as a flamer-armed guardsman crept in close, and then aiming the special weapon through the ruined pressure door, pulled the trigger.

Screams filled the air as the Tau were burned alive, unanimously rushing out flailing to be cut down – mercifully perhaps – by the Spire Guard's autocannon.

In another section, three Spire Guard squads held a junction with automatic fire, autocannons firing in bursts while guardsmen opened fire on full-auto with their lasguns between autocannon bursts or while the autocannons were reloaded. Every so often, a flamer would send a jet of liquid flame down a corridor.

The distance meant it was less effective than it would normally be in an enclosed space, but the random bursts of liquid flame kept the Tau from getting too comfortable with the relatively-static pattern of autocannon and laser fire. Other guardsmen manned vox kits, while others hacked into the orbital docks' network to disrupt the enemy's command and control.

And then the entire orbital docks shook, as the Isometric forced its way into one of the docking bays. Metal structures tore away as the strike cruiser ground to a halt, and then boarding tubes extended out to slam against the dock walls on either side. Boarding charges blew the walls open, Spire Guard pouring out further from the back, Fire Warriors already rushing in to intercept.

And to front, they found themselves up against a squad of Thousand Sons each.

"For the Emperor and the Crimson King!" the Thousand Sons telepathically pulsed their legion's war-cry, staggering Tau and Gue'vesa traitors from the psychic intrusion, others dying with blood pouring from noses and ruined eye sockets, unable to endure the sheer force of the Astartes' thoughts.

Pulse fire spat against the Thousand Sons, only to explode harmlessly against transparent shields of telekinetic force. The Thousand Sons returned fire, bolt shells encased in sheaths of psychic flame, burning through armor and flesh as though they were plasma, before exploding and killing xenos and traitor alike without mercy.

"Ashes to ashes," the Thousand Sons pulsed their war-cry, driving the Tau back from the dock and allowing the Spire Guard to mop up their rear and consolidate. "Dust to dust!"

Deep beneath the bowels of the orbital docks, a group of Gue'vesa gathered themselves in a circular room, stripped bare and with an eight-pointed star drawn in blood on the floor. In four alcoves set into the walls, a marble bust of the Emperor rested, staring sternly into the room.

In the middle of the Star of Chaos, a woman stood naked, muttering to herself, her body daubed in arcane symbols in four substances with arcane symbolism to the ritual: blood, brain fluid, bile, and semen.

Four others were in the room, all men, and like the woman stripped naked, only unlike her only had a single substance and symbol daubed on their forehead. One had the Mark of Khorne in blood, another the Mark of Tzeentch in brain fluid, a third the Mark of Nurgle in bile, and the fourth the Mark of Slaanesh in semen.

As one, they began to deface the busts of the Emperor, the woman's muttering growing in volume as they did so, punctuated regularly with increasingly-shrill screams. The symbols daubed over her began to glow and smoke, burning with unholy fire and searing themselves into her flesh and soul alike.

The woman began to rise, her scream turning into an unearthly wail as ghastly light boiled out of her eyes and gaping mouth, blood beginning to pour from the debased busts of the Emperor. The men also began to float as well, orbiting the woman and slowly spiraling in towards her with increasing speed.

The man daubed with the Mark of Khorne roared incoherently as he did so, the man daubed with the Mark of Tzeentch babbled inanely in tongues, the man daubed with the Mark of Nurgle gurgled dumbly, and the man daubed with the Mark of Slaanesh moaned in ecstasy.

And then the five came together, unearthly light filling the room to blinding, the blood-weeping busts of the Emperor melting in unholy flame moments before the entire room exploded.

Aboard the Isometric, the astropaths screamed.

Aboard the Isometric and across the orbital docks, Thousand Sons gasped and staggered as they realized that something had gone terribly wrong.

On the planet below, witches screamed in triumph while psykers went mad, raving at the coming of a herald of the gods, or simply died in agony, unable to endure the ripples the daemonic summoning had sent through the ether. Worse, others exploded to form miniature gateways into the Warp, thankfully stable enough only to allow a single Lesser Daemon at worst through before collapsing, but the activities of the cults and now the summoning in the skies above had sufficiently thinned the veil that while still weakened by no direct connection with the Immaterium, daemons could now wander the shadows wreaking terror as they went.

And in the desert, Farseer Macha opened her eyes, her meditation disturbed, her beautiful face twisted with a mix of dismay and anger. "Isha's grace," she thought. "This is not good at all."

A/N

Through a herculean effort, the writer's block is overcome! For the Crimson King!