The Blade of Ynnead Command Deck, The Chinchare Webway, 9 Days after 'The Saint's Awakening'
Lelith Hesperax, Succubus of the Cult of Strife and 'Queen of Knives'
"There are clear signs of Drukhari forces using this section of the Webway, recently and repeatedly from the reports of our scouts Lady Hesperax. No obvious sign of whether they are here with orders from Commorragh or just raiding." Leilith didn't say anything in direct response to the report of her ship's captain, mulling over the information.
The Blade of Ynnead was a Bleak Soul class Raiding Cruiser that had been 'liberated' during their escape from Commorragh after Yrvaine's awakening, the Vat-born Drukhari crew choosing to follow a new master rather than face her blades out of 'loyalty' to the Bleaksoul Brethren Kabal. Given one of those same Vat-born was now sat in the Captain's chair, and seemed to inspire more loyalty amongst the crew then any amount of threats or executions would have done, Lelith was finding her new responsibilities surprisingly easy so far.
"Well jester, are we here for this 'Ally of Ynnead'? Or to slay our former kin and build our forces?" As she turned her attention to the chair that was currently occupied by the Shadowseer whose mysterious instructions had lead to this point, Lelith revised her earlier thought.
She was finding most of her new responsibilities easy to manage so far, though if Veilwalker continued to try and aggravate her cult and crew, then she might resort to removing a limb or two and throwing her in a slave pen.
Yrvaine had been very clear that Veilwalker was to remain alive, but Lelith had centuries of experience in finding out exactly how much 'wiggle room' there was between that instruction and 'unharmed'.
"Why must we always kill things Hesperax, maybe you should try and talk to people a bit more, maybe you could make friends with them instead?" Veilwalker finished her semi-complaint with a lilting giggle that made it clear she wasn't serious, before she jumped up from her chair and darted forward to where the star map of the Sector was displayed, ignoring the fearful reactions of the ship crew she came remotely near as she did so.
It was… entertaining to find the crew were more scared of the Shadowseer in their midst than Lelith herself, indeed most of the crew viewed her with something approaching awe for her status as the Champion of the Arena. Or that is what she assumed at least, she had no time or desire to work out the motivations of lesser creatures that would serve as little satisfaction in a fight.
"Here, or maybe it was here… When you get to my age things get so easy to forget, but first we probably want to go here." The area Veilwalker pointed at was easy for Lelith's eyes to make out, even from the other side of the bridge, a section of real space that most of their race didn't dare approach if they had any other choice.
"I know I call you a jester, but do not take that as permission to play games Veilwalker." Her tone remained level, it had taken less than five minutes of watching the Shadowseer wreak havoc on the other Ynnari leaders to realise that anger would serve her little good, but the arch of her left eyebrow was sufficient to display her displeasure.
She moved over at a measured pace, each step deliberately striking the Command Deck floor to produce a distinct 'tap' sound using her combat boots, even the Shadowseer stilling in place like a slave caught in the wrong area of the Arena. It was the presence that earned her such prestige on Commorragh both in the Arena and outside it, and something she had learned to cultivate from an early age to use like any of her bladed weapons.
"That… maze is the place of fools and the damned, only the most desperate would go looking for anything amongst so many graves, with so many potential hunters lurking in the shadows." Reznor, as the Mon-keigh called the planet of Akar-tul, was a system that contained the wrecks of entire Mon-keigh fleets from the time their so-called Emperor walked the worlds of the cosmos.
Between the damaged warp engines, exposed nuclear reactors and numerous roving bands of pirates and scavengers, the entire system was a barely explored death trap. The planet was even worse, as reports from the few raiding bands foolish enough to descend there looking for slaves reported Necrontyr structures exposed by the impact of the crashed ships, as well as vicious predatorial creatures that could slaughter the unwary.
"And yet, it is in the darkest realms of danger and with knives arrayed both before and behind us, that the greatest treasures can be found… Both for us to entreat the Ally of Ynnead, and for ourselves…" And with that ominous statement, Veilwalker disappeared into the shadow of a nearby column for a moment and somehow managed to disappear entirely despite the eyes of the entire bridge being on her as she did so.
"Well, you heard our guide. Captain, take us as close as the Webway will allow. I want two escorts to enter real space before us, the last thing we need is to be surprised when we emerge. I expect the Raiding parties to be ready for action in less than 3 cycles." Though she didn't mention it as she stalked from the bridge, Lelith had taken note of the Shadowseer's mention of blades behind them, a subtle but clear hint that there was at least one traitor in their midst.
Given the recent 'conversion' of their crew this wasn't overly surprising, but she would need to ensure some of her loyal Wyches were in place at key points on the ship in case of 'difficulties' when they did reach real space, and screen the crew members on the communications relays while she was at it.
As much as dealing with those foolish enough to chase her would satisfy the hunger for battle and death that was ever present inside her, even if her new devotion to Ynnead had muffled it to manageable levels, Leilth wasn't going to fail her first real mission for the Ynnari if she could help it.
Blood and sport would have to wait until after she found this 'Ally' of theirs…
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Palace of Possibilities, Realm of Chaos, 11 Days after 'The Saints Awakening'
Tzeentch, Changer of Ways and Chaos God
Despite the presence of the new arrival to their universe delightfully muddying the strands of fate and destiny, like a rock and a bag of soil thrown into a crystal clear pond, Tzeentch was currently not paying attention to it.
Well, that wasn't quite true, he had 77 minor demons doing their best to follow its trail. But given their slowly growing panicked rituals and arguing amongst themselves, Tzeentch suspected they had lost their quarry, and they were now at the 'who do we blame?' stage.
It didn't matter too much, certainly not as much as the matter in claw, as it were. Looking through one of the many pools that filled his ever changing realm, Tzeentch was instead focussed on one of his erstwhile 'followers'.
"What are you doing little Rubrican?" Ahriman had never been a 'true' follower of his, especially after the event of that delightful Rubrican spell he created and spoon-fed the Thousands Sons Sorcerer, and was now at the stage where his power and knowledge were great enough to start posing a risk.
Not to Tzeentch directly for the moment, the moment Ahriman tried something in his domain he would be transmogrified into a ginger flea-infested cat and chased by Flamers for the rest of his pitiful existence. But there were rumours of what Ahriman was attempting to do, in addition to his millennia long ambition to restore his Legion to life, ascension not as a mere Daemon Prince but as a fifth God in The Great Game.
Such a thing was possible if almost impossible to achieve in a mortal time span, and frustratingly Ahriman was able to shield himself somewhat from even Tzeentch's cursory glances. This meant the Sorceror's plans were gleaned more from his actions and schemes involving others, and a more focused investigation would draw more attention than Tzeentch would want his own minions to notice.
The last thing he needed was for everyone and their pet Horror to start trying to ascend to godhood, even if it was one of the easier ways for him to restore his brethren…
One of Tzeentch's claws, which had been tapping against the prismatic throne he was using in a manner that he knew his advisors referred to as his 'kill the messenger mood', stilled as an idea came to him and he analysed the potential ramifications and moves in The Great Game.
It would impact his available forces in the materium considerably, but given the current situation that wasn't the biggest of concerns, he would merely ensure that his rivals and their plots were 'discovered' at the worst possible time… now he just had to send the required messages.
"Come to me!" His command was uttered more as a whispered muttering, but in the next moment there were more than a dozen assorted demons kneeled before him.
Even as his magic transcribed thoughts to word and conjured three dozen separate scrolls fashioned with his personal seal, which all but one of the recipients would recognise, Tzeentch cast his gaze over his eager servants. They were all minor or recently gestated demons, showing that their ambition to earn his favour had muffled their self-preservation for the moment.
Still, if they survived delivering the message he was about to give them, then they may in fact be worthy of his closer attention. Now he just had to decide exactly which ones he wanted to be caught…
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The Chariot of Retribution, In The Warp, 999.M41 18 days after 'The Saint's awakening'
Harry Potter, Master of Death
"And... there we go lad. Is this what you had in mind?" Chief Ivarsson's words prompted Harry to turn to the Squat Chief and accept the prototype weapon offered to him.
They had been travelling in the warp for almost a week now, according to Harry's magical clock at least, though Octus and the others had been quick to inform him that the flow of time in the warp was rather… unstructured.
The Chariot of Retribution could in fact arrive at wherever their destination turns out to be before they left Urthwart, though that was supposedly quite rare to say the least.
But just because they were effectively cut off from the real universe didn't mean they were able to relax, especially now that Harry knew exactly how the ship's guns now worked. It had been like watching a group of medieval peasants working on a tank, every process reduced to the lowest technological level possible without actually trying to fire the gun with a flint.
Octus had rather reluctantly admitted that there was normally a 'gun crew' numbering in the high hundreds for each Macro-cannon battery, meaning that The Chariot of Retribution's main deck would have had a crew in the thousands, just for pulling chains and grunt work! There weren't even pulley systems and other basic technological 'secrets' to increase the work carried out by each person by a proportional amount.
It was a wonder that Octus had managed to have ⅓ of his weapons functional during the fight at Urthwart, mainly because the Legion of the Damned seemed happy with following the Tech-priests instructions once Harry had instructed them to.
Luckily, for Harry's sanity if nothing else, the Squats seemed to understand his disbelief at the situation much better than the Imperials who shrugged it off as 'making use of the expendable resources'. Harry really didn't want to give much thought to who was unlucky enough to have that moniker.
They'd rigged a steam powered pneumatic opening/closing system for the breech seal of one of the smaller Macrocannons, as well as a series of massive cogs and pulleys to aid in the alignment of the shell itself with a much smaller crew. It wasn't perfect, and nothing like the diagrams of auto-loader systems she had in some of the muggle books she had insisted he buy and bring with him when he had told her of his 'Grand Plan'.
But it meant that Harry and 40 Squats had been able to empty, reload and prep the Macro-cannon for firing in approximately 6 minutes, though Harry was not too proud to admit he was mostly window dressing when it came to physical parts. The Squats were much stronger than even their broad frames suggested, each capable of moving items that were easily Harry's bodyweight with some grunting and cursing.
They'd test fired it twice, just to quell the muttering of some of the other tech-priests who claimed that such equipment couldn't work effectively, especially without the blessings of the Omnissiah or regular application of Sacred Unguent. While the accuracy of the shells couldn't be ascertained, lost in the eddies and madness of the Warp, even the most belligerent of the Tech-priests had been left without reasonable arguments at that point.
In fact, the development had Octus practically vibrating out of his cybernetics with excitement, and even Cassiel and his fellow Astartes had requested to test the system themselves. It was something to see superhuman warriors that were clearly surgically modified and genetically enhanced so impressed with such a simple design, and to Harry's surprise they had insisted on seeing what other 'technological marvels' he could propose.
He had asked to see various examples of the different personal weapons that were used by the Guard, the Astartes and the Skitarri, though the Astartes had to help him with inspecting their weapons given their size and weight. While weapons like the lasgun were beyond anything he had the technological understanding for, that didn't mean he didn't have some ideas.
So here they were, standing at one end of the large ship compartment that Octus used as a practice range, several of Octus' Skiitarri guards being forced to 'dissuade' the fairly large group of crew and Imperial Guard that were waiting outside.
"Thank you Chief Ivarsson, I know asking you to create something like this with such limited resources is not easy…" The Chariot of Retribution had a small foundry located next to it's armoury, but it was by no means extensive in terms of equipment or materials available.
"Don't worry about it Grimgi, some of your ideas have already got the lads doing some thinking of their own, which is never a bad thing for a Dawi." The Squat seemed mightily pleased with himself as he stepped back, leaving Harry to his 'presentation'.
"One of the first things I would say is that, if you really want my opinion about how to improve our fighting capability, you need to get some semblance of standardisation in terms of loadout." Flicking his wand out and causing half a dozen lasguns and four auto-guns to float over in his direction, Harry arrayed them in the air between him and his audience.
"Within a fighting force of roughly 1000 people, of which I only checked the weapons of about 100, I found all these different variants. Different constructions, different calibres, different ammo types and magazine clips. Hell, even the firing mode and colour of the lasers are different on at least three of the models. I would honestly advise that we test them all, find the best parts of each weapon, adapt them together if we can and then create a new blueprint to create when we melt all these things down. Better than ending up with needing 12 different types of ammunition and then running out of one at the exact wrong time." Harry knew this was the equivalent of slapping someone in the face with a fish and expecting them to thank you for it, but judging by Velex's approving nod and even Commissar Hawke's silent stare, it would mostly be the tech-priests and Administration penny-pinchers that would be the issue.
"But before we move to the testing of some of the ideas I have, Brother Cassiel, I have a question about your equipment, specifically the bolter you carry." The massive Blood Angel nodded in understanding and unslung it from where he carried it on his power armoured leg in some kind of magnetic holster.
"It is a venerated Relic that is claimed to have served in the darkest days of the Imperium in the First Siege of fires with unerring accuracy and recoils far less than the standard weapons I used when I served with my chapter. What else would you wish to know about it?" The mention of events that clearly happened millennia ago was slightly disconcerting, but given Cassiel had casually dropped the knowledge he had served in the Blood Angels Chapter for more than 1000 years, Harry knew his sense of shock was going to have to adapt sooner or later.
"Have you ever compared the weapon to that used by other Astartes? Specifically those of other chapters or belonging to your brethren that are much younger?" Cassiel was the only true veteran on the ship, the two other Blood Angels had less than a decade's fighting experience between them.
While the Raven Guard, whose quiet demeanour and ability to move around the ship quietly was at odds with the others, had served in several campaigns before being acquired by Trazyn, most of these had been as a Scout rather than as a full-blooded Space Marine.
"Hmm, I must say I have not, an Astartes' personal wargear is something they are expected to perform maintenance and clean themselves. Each Chapter is usually in charge of manufacturing and maintaining their own wargear, knowledge of such practices are not discussed. What have you found?" Cassiel's face morphed into a small frown as he stalked over to one of the other boltguns that Harry had requested be left on the long table set up to the side of the room.
"That explains some of the differences I found, specifically why the bolters are clearly different internally even if they look the same externally. I imagine the Astral Claw Chapter were founded later, and not directly linked to an existing Chapter to draw knowledge from?" The mention of the almost stigmatized member of the little Astartes group was a risk, as the younger Blood Angels had been quick to denounce his Chapter as heretical traitors, but one that the Astartes in question had borne with surprising humility.
Given he had been acquired by Trazyn in the 37th Millenium on a small expedition to the outskirts of the Imperium, Cassiel had deemed him not to be judged for his Chapter's later actions.
"Yes I believe they were either the 9th, 10th or 11th founding, though our records of that time are somewhat limited and I will admit I do not have great knowledge of the numerous foundings and their importance to the Imperium." Picking up the bolter in question, a sign that Harry took to mean Cassiel was able to see his point about the bolters being different even if only slightly superficially, Cassiel hefted it for a moment before he started the process of stripping it down there and then.
"It is heavier, and the weight is settled differently to my weapon, almost… unbalanced in comparison. I assume you are going to elucidate on the main differences you have noticed Lord Potter?" Nodding even as Cassiel continued his work, Harry raised the gun he was holding before sending one of the other autoguns over in Velex's direction with a flick of a finger.
"I think a demonstration will serve best, though I would ask Octus and Chief Ivarsson for the full details of the differences in components between your weapons Cassiel, they understand your technology better than I do. Lieutenant, if you would do the honours of burst firing down the range until you are out of ammunition?" Looking a little awkward at being put on the spot in such a manner, Velex did a small shake of her head before pointing the gun down the range towards the 'target'.
The target was a hulking green humanoid Harry had heard referred to as an 'Ork', and given it was about half again his size and carrying a blade that was rugged and brutal, he was happy not to have met any of them yet.
"Firing now!" The distinct crack of gunfire was muted a moment later as the silencing rune Harry had carved into the barrel of the auto-gun kicked in, something he'd have to look into later.
Six bursts of fire followed by a constant burst for a couple of seconds later, Velex shouldered the gun and indicated she was done, another sign that the rune needed some more work as her words were swallowed into the void. Disabling the rune with a tap of his wand, as he stepped forward to swap the weapon with the one he had helped to design, Harry gestured to the second Ork that was placed approximately ten metres to the left of the one she had just shot at.
"We'll discard one of the shots from this next one, as I think you clipped the other target at the end there. Now, be careful with the underslung grenade launcher, it's loaded but not what I had in mind for testing right now." The mention of the grenade launcher function made Velex smile for some reason, indicating that her destructive tendencies were not just part of her job in the Imperial Guard.
Another round of firing later, and Harry led the group down the range to where the two targets were waiting, though even from a distance the difference was obvious. While the grouping on the second target wasn't anything approaching perfect, there were at least 15 distinctive bullet holes dotted across the Ork's limbs and torso, in comparison to the 6 on the first target.
"And that, ladies and gentlemen, is the result of a rifled barrel. This causes the bullet to spin as it is fired, which greatly reduces the spray. I imagine for massed infantry battles, the need for accuracy wasn't considered too important for those organising from afar, but that's not the interesting part." Gesturing to the two weapons Cassiel was carrying, Harry spoke the words the Astartes wouldn't want to hear.
"The boltgun you carry Cassiel has a rifled barrel, recoil dampening and a much lighter chassis, which is undoubtedly why you favour it so. But even your own brethren in your chapter, as well as the Astral Claw's weapons, lack all of these enhancements, even though you clearly had the knowledge and capacity at some stage."
"Impossible… Such a loss of knowledge should not be possible without… Traitors!" And that was the same assumption Harry had reached, albeit without the religious outrage and palpable rage.
"Exactly. Your enemies aren't just at the gates, they are already inside changing the locks and blunting your weapons. And not only have they managed this, people like the Tech-Priests will take any such allegation as treachery itself." And if this kind of knowledge deterioration was common throughout the Imperium, then it would be almost impossible to change things without a galaxy-shattering event to prompt it...
A/N: And on that little bombshell, I think we will leave this one here for now. I originally had a section with Trazyn planned for the end here, but the fact that I have dropped one of the more divisive points about the Imperium and it's make-up, it made a good chapter ending.
Now, I haven't fully decided how deep I want the corruption of the Imperium to go, as there is never really going to be a right answer. But given the sheer number of 'lost technologies' and 'ancient weapons' that are effectively the weapons of the current Imperium… just better, I find at least part of this degradation being a 'kunning plan' rather than just stagnation to be more appealing.
It certainly would be the most effective way for Tzeentch to spend his time. Killing the servants of the Imperium and the numberless masses of the various worlds across the galaxy is almost entirely pointless, it's one of the few renewable resources the Imperium actually has. But put in place plots to make those masses carry worse and less effective weapons? And have different worlds manufacturing different variants of said weapons that aren't compatible with each other?
That's subtle enough that no one would believe it to be the work of Chaos, but effective enough that the Imperial war machine eventually loses its effectiveness entirely.
There's a couple of hints at exactly how high up this system would have to go to be this effective, will see what people think.
So, some of my readers have expressed confusion as to the details I am referring to and the characters I have introduced in the story. While I am not going to try and explain the 40 K Universe from the ground up (I don't have time), I will do my best to include the basics of the key races, characters, artefacts and locations in the story as we go. The idea is that I will include this cheat sheet to detail the NEW characters, races & locations in each chapter, rather than have an updating list in each chapter. If I do that, each chapter will just get progressively longer and longer with what is effectively an information dump, and I know that will annoy me, let alone the readers.
I will put the whole cheat sheet on the forum I have created for this story at this link:
forum/Harry-Potter-The-March-of-the-Damned-Forum/231006/1/129350/
It's not finished yet… Sorry, but I will continue filling it up over Christmas!
This forum will allow people to raise ideas, issues and argue the finer points of the madness that is 40 K.
Best wishes to everyone, and hopefully next year will be better for all of us!
Defias out!