When the treaty was ratified and they left the Hope system, Guilliman was overall reasonably pleased.
The trade agreement was projected to be mutually beneficial. In some ways, the Sautekh Empire would experience a more favorable impact but that was because they were smaller. The influx of trade would greatly benefit them, particularly in terms of the standard of living of the humans there. For the Imperium, though, there would also be great benefits… they would have access to some agri-worlds they had lost contact with, which was always very useful, but mostly they would get finely made consumer goods. The Mechanicus would immediately be trying to reverse engineer them, of course, and Guilliman had bargained hard to get them access to the finer goods. Imotekh knew what they were up to, of course, and he was sure everything they got would be very difficult to reverse engineer. Well, that was fine, they were up for the challenge. Caul was spending all his time mumbling about ball bearings.
When he got back to Macragge, though, things got interesting.
The first fun thing was introducing Lion El'Jonson to Fulgrim. To say he was shocked was an understatement and his first reaction was rejection.
"How do we know this is not a trick of Chaos?" The Lion said bluntly as Fulgrim took it calmly. But then, he'd surely expected this of their less than socially apt brother. Fortunately, Guilliman had a good answer to that.
"Manric Duleth's psyker abilities make that virtually impossible. And there is absolutely NO reason for the Stormlord to do something like that to us, and every reason he would want to avoid it," Guilliman said. He knew Imotekh's feelings about Chaos now and they were, as he'd already thought, intensely negative. He utterly loathed the influence of Chaos in his domain and rooted it out quite efficiently. "Not only that… we are invited to return in five years, to a planet named Yggdrasil." The Lion tilted his head slightly, very skeptical about this. "To assist in a great battle against the demons of Slaanesh, including the Demon Prince Fulgrim."
"Oh, is that so?" El'Jonson seemed a bit pleased by that and looked at Fulgrim. "It is fitting. Slay that demonic filth, and you will be welcome among us." While that sounded good, Guilliman knew about Manric's reservations and shared them. Guilliman himself had learned the folly of trying to go alone.
"I will be going with him," Guilliman said firmly. Manric and Yvraine both wanted him there, so he was definitely going. "Our brother is still young, he should not do this alone." While a one-on-one duel with the Demon Prince sounded nice, Guilliman agreed with the shard of Sanguinius.
"Not as fitting, but very well," his brother said before tilting his head. "Also, I have been trying to do your paperwork while you were away… do you often get reports like this?" Oh no, what now? El'Jonson offered him a floppy and Guilliman stared at the bright colors and wax. He took it carefully, examining the picture. On one side was a group of badly drawn Space Marines in grey armor, firing their bolters. On the other side was a better drawn group of orks who seemed to be suffering badly. Beneath, in bright pink, was some extremely broken but legible low Gothic.
We gots krumped That was followed by an unhappy ork face.
Dese witing stixs tast funni
"…No. This is a new low," Guilliman finally said, a bit stunned. He checked the back of the picture but it was unsigned. "Do we know who sent this?" He couldn't tell from the Marines, grey was unfortunately a fairly common shade. The Grey Knights hadn't sent this, surely?
"They didn't sign it for what I think are obvious reasons." Yes… yes, you wouldn't sign something like this. Although that made this 'report' extra pointless.
(it was actually sent by a tiny, virtually unknown chapter. They had encountered some Ultramarine descendants who had told them they should, perhaps, send a report to Guilliman and crayon drawings were discouraged. That comment had led directly to this)
(the exact lineage of this chapter was, in the official records, Dark Angel descendants. Given how they behaved, though, that was rather unlikely to be true)
"Can I see?" Fulgrim asked and Guilliman passed the drawing over. Fulgrim's eyebrows shot up as he looked at it before snorting. That made Guilliman's lips twitch a bit as he began to see the humor of it. "Is… is this how we're doing things now?" Fulgrim said before laughing. "Imagine being the poor ork they captured to draw this!" Guilliman chuckled a little at that.
"I'm shocked they managed to find one that was literate," Guilliman said. That was very unusual, even if the literacy was questionable. "But I really need to tell you about the military side of the peace treaty." That was what the Lion would be interested in.
Guilliman went through the military side of the peace treaty with his brother and El'Jonson was a bit grim at the worlds they were surrendering, although he was a bit surprised that the Stormlord specifically rejected Hive and Forge worlds. That left a few of them in an odd situation, little Imperial bastions in what was largely Sautekh territory, but given the nature of Warp travel it wouldn't be too much of a problem. Some of them might also be useful as transshipment points, where both sides could mingle fairly freely.
"We are letting them build communication relays to Macragge?" El'Jonson rumbled as he looked over all the terms. Guilliman nodded.
"They have these relays all their own territory, to facilitate FTL messages." Guilliman had only the vaguest idea how it actually worked. He knew they could be blocked, they were not infallible, but only other necrons had the technology for it. As for the rest of them, even recognizing the relays was incredibly difficult, they were well hidden. "They specifically want a communication link to Macragge so I can be easily reached in the near future. We will need to coordinate with them for the assault on the Pariah Nexus." It wasn't part of the peace treaty because the plans for it were still somewhat up in the air. Imotekh needed to build the relays for his assault and preferably, claim the Nihilakh for his banner before beginning his intense assault on the Pariah Nexus. While he was doing that, Szarekh would figure out what was happening and move to stop him. Primarily by trying to move in support from Maynarkh, supporting his loyalists in Nihilakh and beginning raiding missions against Sautekh to try to cripple their war effort. Imotekh had foreseen it all and was taking steps, but the situation had plenty of time to develop and go sideways so their peace treaty only laid the framework for future cooperation. "Brother, we have only fourteen years before the Tyranids try to take the galaxy." The Lion took a deep breath as he absorbed that, before uttering a sulfurous curse.
"That explains why Chaos seems to be pulling back," he growled and Guilliman nodded. They could see the future too and from what Imotekh said, this had only recently come clear for his seers. The same was likely true of the Chaos sorcerers. They would offer no real help, since no one would trust them, but the Ruinous Powers might have projected that now was not the time to go hard against the Imperium of Man. "If it is all coming to a head so quickly, we should not wait to integrate you into our forces," the Lion said to Fulgrim, who nodded.
"I look forward to seeing my sons again," Fulgrim said and Guilliman sighed internally. Cawl had fessed up and admitted to the Chapter of Primaris Marines made from Fulgrim's geneseed. While it was very annoying it did serve them well right now, they would form the backbone of Fulgrim's reborn Legion.
They had a lot of work to do to get ready for the assault on the Pariah Nexus and the war for the fate of the galaxy that was coming.
Trazyn the Infinite tapped his fingers together as he thought. He was sitting on his 'throne' which might not be comfortable, but suited his mood at the moment.
Orikan had come with Imotekh for the purpose of having a long conversation with him about the future of Nihilakh and his future in particular. Apparently, the prognostications of the Sautekh Chronomancers were utterly chaotic. It seemed that Phaeron Krispekh wasn't going to have just one challenger to his rule… he was going to have several. And according to Orikan, despite his best efforts, that awful artifact Krispekh had was going to warn him.
The fundamental reason for the chaos was simple… Krispekh was a Szarekh loyalist. The Silent King's plans had won him over and so far, they had been extremely favorable for the Nihilakh. Krispekh saw a bright future with Szarekh, where the Nihilakh could grow and prosper. He believed in Szarekh's plans to correct his mistake and provide them with organic bodies. Trazyn wondered… given that Szarekh was working with Szeras, last he had heard, did they also have plans to provide them with souls? Were those plans ACTUALLY feasible or had Szarekh made a miscalculation?
Whatever the case might be, Krispekh had been pulled in but when Imotekh's ultimatum came in, his court would have other ideas. The Nihilakh Dynasty had always been fractious and difficult, requiring a great deal of diplomacy from the Phaeron. Normally the Phaeron could jolly them into doing things his way, but only after tolerating their complaints and speeches in endless, tedious meetings. It was very different from how Imotekh ran things, but by necessity… a Nihilakh Phaeron who tried to rule too firmly would end up deposed in favor of someone more tolerant of his subject's bombast. Overall, the system worked fairly well. This did have a grave weakness, though, and that was when matters became insoluble. With Imotekh, everyone in his court knew they could give their opinions but when the Stormlord made a decision, crossing him was death. Krispekh just didn't have that power over his nobles.
That was what would come to bite him soon. Trazyn considered it thoughtfully. Nihilakh nobles tended to be hard-headed and practical yet intensely selfish. They were devoted to their pleasures and many of them pursued their own hobbies with a passion that nearly equaled Trazyn's devotion to his work. Honestly, in many ways, Trazyn was typical of his family. Was it any wonder that trying to lead them was like herding that Terran animal, cats?
But what should his part in it be? Orikan had put in a great deal of effort and had predicted that Krispekh didn't know yet – it would take him a while to wring the information out of the alien prophet – but he would within the year. Then he would start preparing. So if Trazyn was going to actively promote the cause of the Sautekh, he needed to get started.
Orikan probably predicted my actions as well, Trazyn thought with a bit of whimsy. Because he was thinking of becoming an agent of chaos. Disloyal? Oh yes, extremely, but Trazyn had picked his side and he was standing with the Stormlord. Imotekh had even grudgingly rescinded his ban from the Sautekh court! Although with a warning that if he ever tried to take his staff again, he would be rebanned at best. Trazyn intended to respect that.
(unless Imotekh fell in battle of course. Then that staff would be in his hands)
(it was Trazyn's fondest dream to have both that staff and Manric's spear for his War in Heaven gallery. They would be perfect to compliment each other. He could even use an eldar and an Overlord, modelled to look like Imotekh, and make a fully dynamic display!)
(Trazyn knew it was never going to happen but he could dream)
As an agent of chaos – chaos with a small c, not ACTUAL Chaos of course – Trazyn intended to start paying visits to some well picked Overlords. He would spread the word of Sautekh's offer and a few of them would even get souls. To facilitate that, Semephren was coming to Solemnance with a load of the ghost wood. He would start building a block loyal to Sautekh in the midst of the Nihilakh. Of course, it would be messy… Trazyn anticipated and Orikan confirmed they were going to split into at least four factions, Krispekh and three others. Trazyn would see what he could put together, as his part in this, and how many rumors he could spread to the unreliable and disloyal. And then… then, when things were ready to kick off, he would enact his master plan for Solemnance.
Trazyn's master plan for Solemnance depended heavily on a technology no one knew he had. He'd picked up the STC fragment by complete accident… it had wandered into the hands of a very small necron dynasty, the Obahankh. Another Dynasty just like Rahkaak's, but on the complete opposite end of the galaxy, somewhere up in the Halo Stars, past the Segmentum Obscurus. They had recognized the worth of it but also that they did not have the resources or technical knowledge to use it. Showing great wisdom, they had traded it to an extremely powerful Technomancer for technology they COULD use. That Technomancer had fully mastered the secrets of it before trading it to Trazyn, along with his personal blueprints of how THEY could replicate the apparatus, in return for some truly priceless artefacts from his collection. Yet, as priceless as they were, this STC fragment was worth more.
It was a wormhole generator. Not dependant on the Warp at all, it was humanities' attempt to end the necessity for warp travel entirely and eliminate the need for Navigators, while also creating instantaneous travel. And it worked. Trazyn could only marvel at it and reflect that at the very height of their meteoric rise, humanity had perhaps even eclipsed the necrontyr. A shame they had experienced such a brutal fall. That aside, from what Trazyn understood, this STC fragment had survived in the broken ruins not of a normal colony but rather, a research colony that was working to perfect it. It hadn't quite been done when disaster had fallen on them but Technomancer Ahkaros had finished their work. Whatever had happened to Ahkaros? He'd just seemed to vanish after their trade. But then, he was quite an odd one, taking introversion to high levels even by necron standards. Perhaps they'd see him in a few thousand years.
Well, that hardly mattered. What mattered was that Trazyn had the capability to move Solemnance. The best way to accomplish this was to set up the apparatus both around Solemnance, and also special 'buoys' in the target location. Trazyn had arranged the location with Imotekh and when he was done causing trouble in Nihilakh, Solemnance would be moved and safely ensconced deeply within the Sautekh Empire. Trazyn had no desire to be in the middle of a civil war, with the resource Solemnance represented. That was a resource Imotekh might like to use, but he had sworn on his honor to respect that Trazyn's collections did not belong to him. Although he'd also made a sarcastic observation about Trazyn's failure to respect other's possessions.
No one understands what I am trying to accomplish, Trazyn thought, although he could acknowledge that the Stormlord had a point. Still, did no one understand the importance of his work?! Oh well, what could he expect, they hadn't understood it when they were all alive either.
No one would understand the other thing he was about to do, and wouldn't understand it for some time. But Trazyn had asked Orikan about this and after they had left Hope behind, the Diviner had spent some time peering into the future to answer his question. The answer had been unequivocable… if Trazyn wanted his children, he should retrieve them immediately. It would cause Krispekh to learn about the problems a month earlier than was ideal, but if he didn't, Orikan indicated that both of his children would be destroyed out of pure spite. The head of the prophet hated them all but seemed to have some hatred for Trazyn in particular, and would mention them by name when tortured enough.
So before he did anything else, Trazyn would slip into Krispekh's court and steal a low-level, unimportant Cryptek and a Lychguard. It was really the Lychguard that would get Krispekh's attention… one of the thirteen Lychguard who personally tended to his safety, such an individual did not simply vanish. Yet, Trazyn simply had no choice.
The grandchildren should be safe enough, but he would bring his children home.
Cyptek Zefrehna was a simple soul.
It had been true long before biotransference and it was true now. In the far off past she had spent her days patiently teaching young children of the appropriate caste, with bright minds and quick wits, the fundamentals of the great knowledge of their race. That made her a Cryptek, if of a very particular type, devoted entirely to the nurturing and passing on of knowledge.
After biotransference there was no use for such things but her standing had still granted her a Cryptek shell. Now she devoted herself to the support of the greater Crypteks, acting as an able technician. She had no spark for brilliance, no great drive for success, but her quiet competence was still valued. In particular, she often acted as a maintenance Technomancer, working with the Scarabs and other repair units to fix issues with the great world that was their home.
Zefrehna absolutely loved the world of Gheden. It was, to her and all of their kind, close to a pure paradise. A brutally hot desert that had relatively little wind, the only water was deep underground. Since awakening, the Nihilakh Dynasty had rebuilt the ancient architecture of the necrontyr, as much as they could. A great deal of it had survived in the form of ruins and those ruins had been rehabilitated, becoming the great ziggurats and plazas once again. Plants had even been nurtured, cut into lovely little shapes before being frozen in time to act as decorations. Sterile yet beautiful and only practical, as this desert planet could not truly support such life. It gave the plazas a bit of green, the most pleasing of colors, to liven up all the beige. They could have used flux lights but that would have detracted from the ambience they were aiming for, the great empire of the ancient Nihilakh.
The surface of Gheden was also a flamboyant display of wealth. Zefrehna let her optics be dazzled by the golden washed statues, even as she searched them for any flaws that needed mending. Great poems from the masters of their race were inlaid in elegant friezes, ornamented with jewels, and she perused a story of love even as she found a letter that was becoming defaced by the elements and directed the scarabs to fix the minor problem.
One thing she was definitely going to check today was the Library. An empty shell of itself, the actual documents had long been moved or destroyed by the relentless passage of time. But it had beautiful statues that required constant upkeep, because they were made of painfully fragile alabaster. A lovely material but not very strong, they had used it anyway because these were among the few things to survive all the way to the present. When found, the sculptures had been in pieces but Trazyn had worked for the Phaeron day and night to put them back together. What a shame the faces were almost erased, but the two keepers of knowledge still had their hoods and the marks of librarians. Zefrehna found it actually quite inspiring, being greeted into the halls of knowledge by those two ancient, faceless Crypteks.
Zefrehna pushed open the great sandstone door, that moved smoothly on ancient mechanisms. She paused to carefully examine the statues, walking around them and employing deep diagnostic searches to find any flaws, any signs of weakness in the alabaster. When found, they would employ special procedures to strengthen the stone from within, bringing it back to full strength. For now, though, this statue was fine. Zefrehna turned around –
"Cryptek Zefrehna," Trazyn the Infinite said and she stared in shock. She had no idea he was here! "How is your work going? Well as always?" Zefrehna put her hands together before bowing, a mere Cryptek to a high noble.
"Very well. I am maintaining your works, Grand Archaeovist," she said respectfully, pleased at this unexpected meeting. Zefrehna had never put it into words, even to herself, but she'd always found Trazyn's presence soothing. Like it was simply unthinkable that anything bad could happen when he was around. "Can I provide you assistance in any way?" she said, trying to appear eager to please. But Trazyn seemed to be in a strange mood, gazing at her in a peculiar way.
"Ah, Zefrehna… I would say you look like your mother but alas, these days it would be a lie." What? Zefrehna felt mildly puzzled. She knew she had a mother, technically, but could not remember her in the slightest. "However, in other ways you are so much the same… and that is why I need you to come home with me. I know you love it here but I need you to come home, daughter." Zefrehna froze as an ancient bell seemed to ring in the back of her mind.
"…Father?" The word just slipped out. There were no true memories behind it, only a deep feeling of confusion, like an abyss opening up under her feet. Yet, she trusted Trazyn absolutely, in a way she trusted no one else and he nodded. Then he offered her a hand.
"There no need to put you in stasis like your brother. Come with me, Zefrehna." She took his hand and followed him out. Leaving Gheden behind.
Zefrehna had no real understanding of why she trusted Trazyn so much, but she would follow him anywhere.