The agri-world of Verdana was, as the name suggested, a verdant and beautiful world. It could have been a Pleasure Planet, but the Sabbat cluster did not need a place of respite nearly as much as they needed food. So the gorgeous planet was dedicated to agriculture, entire fertile bands devoted to vast farms raising beautifully fresh vegetables and fruits. They were then prepared in all manner of ways, from drying to pickling to canning, so all manner of flavors and nutrients could be sent elsewhere. The grasslands of the planet were devoted to vast herds of grox, which were also sent away in many forms. The one thing the planet did not generate much of was simple grains and tubers… Cawl did not quite know why, but Verdana was not suited to that. Vegetables, fruits and meats were their contribution to the galaxy.
In keeping with that, the planet was peaceful and productive. The people living there were well fed, provided they put in good work. The planet was well supplied with equipment from a nearby Forge World, very advanced for an agri-world, so it was a good life. The only truly dark thing about life on Verdana was that cities were not permitted to form, as they would take up good farmland. Excess population was taken offworld, generally into the Guard but if not that, to join the industries of Forge World Canaan. And if that had to be as servitors, so be it.
Cawl's shuttle put down in a small, stony plain, high in the mountains of Verdana. And waiting for them there was a towering structure of blackstone, reaching for the sky. Dead and inert, right now, waiting for a spark.
(Belisarius Cawl spared a moment to wonder how the mountains had not been worn down and the Pharos destroyed. Had the necrons done something to stop the process of erosion?)
"The Pharos," Ahkaros said, his raspy voice reverent as he gazed upon the ancient piece of necron technology. Cawl was powerfully reminded of a Mechanicus tech priest, reacting to a perfectly preserved piece of human technology. "Perfect, it is perfect…" Ahkaros fell silent for a moment before shaking his head. "No, I must test it, make certain it is ready to be powered." Yes indeed, if it wasn't it could have a catastrophic failure. "Come, I will show you."
Ahkaros did not fully understand the Pharos yet, but he didn't need to, to check to make sure it was in proper operating order. He checked for any breaks in connections, any signs of damage, anything that could cause a failure when the ancient technology was reactivated. Cawl assisted and they were quite thorough, spending days looking for anything wrong. And they did find a few minor issues, which Ahkaros was able to fix before they powered up the Pharos.
For Cawl, that was even more fascinating than the Pharos itself. Ahkaros pulled out a tiny cube and it became an entire rack of what seemed to be power cells? Each one glowed with an almost painful light and Ahkaros mumbled to himself before selecting one. It was brilliant blue, pulsing slowly and Cawl watched as he sorted through metal casings, finding one that could interface well with the Pharos before inserting the glowing ball.
"What is that?" Cawl finally had to ask.
"A star." An entire star?! "The power of a star, syphoned off… millions of years, for each of these." Oh, syphoned off! That was still… quite terrifying, but less so than the thought of an entire star. "Even my kind, so impatient, just use a C'Tan… psh." Well, Cawl could see why now if making proper power cells took millions of years. Although…
"How are we to mimick this? How can we make Pharos of our own?" Cawl murmured, confronted by the terrible thought of how to power them. Ahkaros chuckled, a dry, rattling sound.
"You know how." He did? "You give entire planets to the dead. I have seen them. Great mausoleums… you remind me of the necrontyr." Cawl blinked at that. "But whole planets, nothing but places to bury the dead. Give a planet to the Pharos." Eh? "Nothing but power plants, endless power plants, feeding into the Pharos. Make the Pharos bigger. Make everything bigger. You can do it." Oh… an entire planet that was nothing but a massive power generator? A truly herculean effort but Ahkaros was right, the Imperium of Man could do it and for the lighthouses, shining through the Immaterium, they WOULD do it.
"You are right. We can do that…" Cawl was still cogitating on the idea, contemplating how a world could be converted into nothing but a massive energy generator. As he thought of it, though, he gave Ahkaros a curious glance. "Our technology is so inferior to yours, but you have learned it?" This seemed to indicate that Ahkaros understood human technology, and not just DAOT versions. The great Technomancer nodded as he went to the Pharos, power cell in hand. Cawl followed, curious to watch the operation.
"I learn everything. I know your technology… crude, inefficient, but it can be… fun." Fun? "Once, I decided to live among your kind for thousands of years. Just to understand and learn… working within such constraints, making things work despite how bad it is, it is fun," Ahkaros rasped and Cawl's mind went back to his appearance on the ship, as a human. Had he worn that guise before? "You can find me if you want… I was called Arkos Vallek." Cawl had never heard that name before, but noted it in his mind for later.
Ahkaros connected the power source and gently tucked it in, sorting out the insides of the Pharos. As he did, Cawl looked up and saw the soft lights of the Pharos ignite, as it came back to life. Reaching out to the ship in orbit, he communicated with his Navigator.
Can you see it? Having a Navigator on hand was very helpful to them both. Ahkaros had ways to check the Warp, but they were difficult for him and took time. The Navigator could just look.
Yes, I see it. It is so bright! Well, it needed to be. Not a pin on the astronomicum of course, but still very bright. Perhaps a tenth of the brightness. Good, good, that matched his records of the other Pharos. And that was what they needed. Instead of a single, blinding light, Cawl envisioned an entire network of smaller lanterns. That was what the ancient necrons had been trying to do as well, back when they had still dreamed of using the Immaterium for travel. From speaking with Ahkaros, Cawl knew why that had been… necron FTL travel, while very good, had some limitations compared to travel in the Warp. The ancient eldar in the times of the War in Heaven had been able to use the Webway, but also manipulate time via Warp travel, so they could actually show up to a battlefield before they had even left. It had been beyond frustrating for the necrontyr and despite the herculean nature of the task, they had been trying to figure it out. Cawl knew that such time accidents did happen for the Imperium, as well, but that was by accident. The aeldari had been able to do it deliberately back then.
"It is working," Cawl advised Ahkaros who nodded, pleased.
"Good. Now… let us begin to understand." Yes. Now was the start of their true work, which would take many months. Not years though. If Cawl had been doing it himself, it would have been years but with Ahkaros present he was confident it would be measured in months. As Ahkaros began tracing the innards of the Pharos and muttering to himself, Cawl was deeply thankful for the ancient Technomancer.
When they were done, Cawl was confident that he would have mastered this technology.
Manric knew the lunar base of the pirates was unusual, but he wasn't quite expecting what he found.
It was built deep into the moon, literally a giant hanger where a small fleet could be sequestered. Beautifully made, despite the abuse the pirates had put it through, Manric recognized the technology of it. The Crypteks easily confirmed it.
This is indeed technology of your species, from the later part of the DAOT, I would estimate. Yes, this was truly lovely. Manric thought it was probably better than what their STC contained. A combined research and military facility, it was likely abandoned during the Age of Strife. There is a Warp storm not far from here, it was probably extremely fierce back then. Ah, that could be it. They might have been forced to flee before the Warp storms entirely cut off this base. Or perhaps they had stayed and been gradually wiped out… the pirates would have discarded the bones if so, so they might never know.
"We must garrison this place. It is too precious to give up," Manric said, although he was loathe to leave behind a big enough force to hold this place. Yet, they couldn't leave it abandoned, orks or a new set of pirates could find it. And destroying it was just not acceptable, it could be a great asset to the Charnovokh. "Hey Ahmakeph, would you like to garrison this place?" Manric said, just teasing.
No, rust off. Manric sent glyphs of amusement, but then seriously considered who would be best to garrison the moon and watch over the world. Hmm.
"Overlord Nephekht, I will need you to garrison the moon and keep watch over the planet. While you are here, please investigate the suitability of the species on the planet for a slave race," Manric said. They had done a tiny bit of preliminary work on the planet, and there was a species of purple skinned sentients there. Fairly human in appearance, they had hair ranging from raven black to a beautiful, royal blue. Their eyes were mostly brown, but sometimes ranged into a burnt orange shade. They had odd, boney ridges on their foreheads and also six fingers. Despite that they were really quite attractive… the lower gravity of the planet had created a slender, willowy build and they tended to have delicate features.
Oh, nemesor, about that? That was the Cryptek and Manric tilted his head. There is no need to investigate them. They are humans. …What?!
"Wait, what?" Manric said, flabberghasted. But then he quickly understood. "Oh… the Warp Storms were quite severe then." Manric had heard of this phenomenon before, although he'd never witnessed it. But it was not unknown for entire populations of humanity, cut off from the rest of the Galaxy and isolated by Warp Storms, to diverge substantially from true humanity. Very different from the one-off mutations suffered by individuals, these became stable, planet wide mutations. By and large, when the Imperium found a stable sub-species of humanity, they were allowed to live unmolested but discriminated against in the Imperium as a whole. Although some very unlucky ones had been wiped out… either for diverging too far or simply because they'd come into contact with most intolerant branches of the Imperium. "Well, nevermind that then." It was not needed.
As you command, nemesor, Nephekht responded. Manric wasn't surprised… he was actually an Uhnashret Overlord, recovered from Coreworld Abydos and come to join the Stormlord's army. That meant he was more obedient than Zahndrekh's restive crew. Will you be asking Charnovokh to come relieve me? Not that he wanted to waste his time in this backwater, though.
"Yes, as soon as possible. And if they can't spare the forces, I will ask Phaeron Rahkaak to take control of this world." The lunar base really was too precious to be destroyed and if they weren't going to garrison it, they would need to destroy it. "Don't worry, you should rejoin us soon." Manric was sure that was Nephekht's concern. No one liked being put on garrison duty, even when they understood the necessity.
After deciding what forces could be sacrificed to watch the world, they moved on. Manric was quite pleased and thought that Zahndrekh would look favorably on his performance, when he reviewed it later.
He could hope so, at least.
Ahmakeph would never say it to Manric, but seeing the humans of this planet had given him ideas.
Ahmakeph was well aware of the tentative plans to revitalize the Pleasure Caste. Imotekh found it all a bit repulsive, but he had run a bit of a poll of the Overlords and Lords to see how much interest there was and roughly half of them were interested. Ahmakeph himself had decided that he wanted to try it. Yes, it was perversion, but so what? Had that ever been a problem before, in the Flesh Times? Memories told him no, it really hadn't. What had they called that one warrior caught fucking a farm animal again?
Leaving that level of perversity aside, Ahmakeph knew the Stormlord was quietly looking for a planet that would be suitable to supply the new Pleasure Caste. It was proving surprisingly difficult, mainly because of necron preferences. If they were going to experience flesh, they vastly preferred the illusion of a necrontyr partner. That meant dark skin and the Imperium was not oversupplied with such hues. There were only three planets Ahmakeph knew of in the Sautekh sphere with the right appearance and they were all culturally unsuitable. Hope, another Knight World and a very puritanical Civilized World. Maybe they could make it work anyway, by slowly accumulating slaves and breeding them, but was there anything better?
This planet seemed to be better. The purple skin was considerably lighter than most necrontyr, but in a good way… Ahmakeph vaguely remembered a lighter purple being a very prized shade among noblewomen. The bony foreheads were alien, but no more than humans were in general and they had a good build. Culturally speaking, they were also suitable… Ahmakeph hadn't spoken to them himself, but he'd gotten some of the Crypteks on it. These people had been hammered hard, by drukhari raiders, Chaos raiders and now, pirates. Unlike Hope, they had no functioning STC and were a basic agrarian colony so when anything came down on them, they just rolled over and died. They had been supplying the pirates with concubines already.
On top of everything else, there was another advantage. Humans were deeply prejudiced against mutants in general. Seeing their Necron Overlords with normal humans as pleasure slaves might bother them, but mutants? Particularly a stable race of mutants that were well outside the bounds of acceptable mutations? Ahmakeph thought their human subjects would adapt to that well.
Ahmakeph decided to send a private, canned message to Zahndrekh to advise him of the planet, the humans on it and all of his thoughts and speculation. It wasn't that he was hiding this from Manric, exactly, he just didn't want to distress him. Ahmakeph knew that if this were brought to Manric's attention he would be deeply unhappy but would report it out of a sense of duty. Manric was resigned to the cruelties of the universe and knew such things were part of necron culture, but it pained him.
Still, Ahmakeph saw no pressing reason Manric should know. It wasn't a military matter. Perhaps all of his ideas would be shot down and nothing would come of it.
He doubted it, but you never knew.
In the depths of the Immaterium, Lorgar was on a holy quest.
If Corvus Corax was around, Lorgar did not see him. He assumed his brother had gotten bored and gone off to do something else. Understandable, Lorgar had been meditating for a considerable length of time. Perhaps he'd fallen afoul of some other Warp entity, but Lorgar doubted it.
"Where are we going, father?" Ariton Kellos, a young Chaos Marine, asked him. Lorgar paused for a moment to just look at him. So young and bright, so full of promise. A long life ahead of him. Lorgar had thought very hard about which of his sons to bring with him, even contemplated bringing Erebus. But he understood the nature of the nameless God now and thought he would not want something as old and diseased as that. No, he would want something fresh, something still worthy even by the tenants of that ancient faith.
Ariton was very fresh. Accomplished in battle yet still young, he was relatively uncorrupted by Chaos, with only small horns as his first starting mutation. Lorgar knew, with the sight of prophecy, that he could have a long and illustrious career ahead of him, serving the Ruinous Powers and bringing death to their enemies. Sad to waste that, but it was what made him suitable.
"We are going to the top of the highest mountain we can find," Lorgar said, gazing at the formation he'd located. The Immaterium was very strange, with vast planets and strange features. This particular mountain was on an ancient world and it sparkled with brilliant energy. Not the energy of the Ruinous Powers but a more neutral strength, Lorgar had foreseen that this planet and this mountain would be ideal for his purposes. "Then, we will make our sacrifice to the nameless God, so that he might speak to us."
"I see." Briefly, Lorgar pitied his foolish son. As a Chaos Marine, he really should have guessed the nature of the sacrifice and noticed they hadn't brought any slaves. Well, soon he would understand.
Climbing to the top of the mountain was difficult, as Lorgar had expected. Not that it should have been… he was a Daemon Primarch of Chaos Undivided, his body should have made easy work of it. But the trial was as much spiritual as physical and it bogged him down, forcing him to forge his will to adamantium. Ariton cursed a little but also forced himself through, equally determined. And in time, they came to the top of the mountain.
The top of the mountain was bitterly cold and windswept. Surrounded by sheer rocks, there was a flat, open space and in the middle of that space, a single, flat rock. There was nothing ceremonious about it, no jewels or insignia, just brutal rock but Lorgar could still recognize an altar.
Turning to his son, Lorgar exerted his full influence as the Daemon Primarch of Chaos Undivided. Moving unwillingly, Ariton slowly removed his helmet. That was all that was needed.
"Father…" Ariton's eyes were wide as he understood. Lorgar knew he would likely not understand, but decided to offer reassurance anyway.
"You are the finest of my sons, Ariton. The first among them and this saddens me, but only the finest can be offered." Ariton nodded jerkily, falling beneath the power of his father and settling upon the altar. Lorgar pulled out his sacrificial dagger, an ancient weapon of curving, meteoric steel. Ariton closed his eyes tightly as Lorgar raised his hand before bringing it down –
And he was halted in midstrike, his arm caught with filmy blue and white light.
/Stop/
/God does not accept sacrifices of death/ Lorgar's eyes widened as an entity slowly solidified in front of them. Was that what he thought it was?!
/Only of life/
/However, your willingness to offer, and the worthiness of this sacrifice, is noted/
/You may speak to the voice of God/ The being in front of him glowed with beautiful white fire. There were many wings, constantly moving, yet always covering the body. Lorgar could see little beyond those wings.
"Father, what have you done? You have summoned an angel of the Emperor!" Ariton said harshly and Lorgar wondered a bit himself. Yet, Tzeentch had sent him on this path, surely it could not be wrong?
/We are not angels of the Emperor/ Wings continued to beat slowly and a single feather spiraled down, landing in front of the altar.
/We are angels of God/
/Sometimes we answer the prayers of the Emperor/
/As we answer to all Humanity/ Lorgar felt a moment of lunatic hilarity and couldn't help but bark a laugh, as he stepped back from the altar.
"The Emperor, praying? HAH! He would never lower himself so, the arrogant, prideful fool," Lorgar said and the Angel conveyed a feeling almost like a shrug.
/We cannot see the mind of the Emperor/
/Any more than we can see the mind of God/
/Perhaps he sees it differently but to us/
/It is prayer/ The Angel paused for a moment and Ariton pulled himself up, still shaken by his experience.
/But you did not make your sacrifice for that/ No, they were getting distracted. Although it was pardonable, considering he had not expected to see this kind of Angel, not at all. Lorgar had truly believed they belonged to the Emperor… it was intriguing to find out he was wrong.
/You are here for the matter/
/Of the end of all mortal life/
"Yes. Tzeentch said you might be able to help me," Lorgar said and the Angel gently beat its' wings.
/For the matter of the Pariah Nexus/
/Your contributions are/
/Meaningless/
/Fate will be decided/
/By the forces already in play/ That was… dismaying to hear, yet not terribly surprising. If Lorgar could do something to genuinely affect the outcome, Chaos Undivided would have advised him years ago.
/However/
/By the grace of God/
/The future is clearly revealed to me/
/And among many favorable outcomes/
/There is one that stands/
/As supremely favorable/
/For all/
/Even Chaos Undivided/ Ah, yes, excellent. That was what he wanted.
/To find this gracious outcome/
/Will require/
/Grave danger to you/
/You will have to bring a message to the Stormlord/
/He may order your death/
/death of the soul/ Lorgar scoffed at that.
"The wretched Necrons do not have a weapon capable of permanently destroying a Daemon Primarch!" he said sharply and was met by a deathly silence. Even the wings of the Angel seemed to still and Lorgar hesitated. "Do they?"
/They do/ The Angel said simply and Lorgar swallowed. Yet… his devotion to the Ruinous Powers was beyond peer and he had been sent here for a purpose.
"What is this message?" The Angel explained, not just the message itself, but the context that would drive Imotekh to an absolute rage. Lorgar frowned as he listened. This would indeed be quite dangerous… yet, he was confident in his ability to defeat a mere necron, even if they did have some kind of super weapon capable of annihilating a soul. "I see why this is the most favorable outcome." The path they were explaining could lead to the end of the Tyranid threat. That was incredibly important to Chaos… the new Kronos Hive Fleet had been causing them nothing but headaches, reaching into even the Eye of Terror. And even without that, the way the bugs scourged all life could potentially end the Warp, just as thoroughly as the Nexus.
/And only you can bring about this outcome/
/We suggest/
/This time and place/ Lorgar breathed through his teeth as the Angel gave him an exact moment in time and space where all the ones he needed would be within striking distance of a useful Chaos Storm. It would be insanely dangerous, nearly suicidal, but he could reach them.
/Be not afraid/
/We shall aide you/
/Even as your own Patrons strengthen your arm/ That was actually quite reassuring. Lorgar knew the strength of the Ruinous Powers and if this entity was also going to provide strength, he was certain it could be done.
"Very well, I will undertake it." His actions would not affect the outcome of the war for the Pariah Nexus. All life could still be lost there. But if Imotekh won… if he took the Nexus intact… Lorgar's actions could potentially change everything.
/Good/
/Now/
/For you/ The Angel's attention turned to Ariton and a spectral wind stirred the feather on the ground before flipping it up. Lorgar watched as it turned into a soft piece of cloth, pure white and gleaming with the power of the Warp. Ariton caught it easily.
/This gift is a sovereign cure/
/To all disease and injury/
/It can only be used once/
/Spend it/
/In the spirit of charity that it is offered/ Ariton bowed his head. Lorgar was deeply pleased with his son… he sensed no resentment, just humility and understanding. He understood that he had been chosen because he was the best and the honor it was to be considered worthy of sacrifice.
"I will do so, thank you," Ariton said and the Angel dissipated, the audience ended. "Father… next time, just tell me, please?" Ariton sounded a touch pained and Lorgar couldn't help but laugh.
"There will not be a next time I think." The Ruinous Powers preferred quite different kinds of sacrifices and honestly, Lorgar preferred those. The power of the Nameless God was very cold and pure, orderly even. Lorgar did not think it was the enemy of his Patrons, not like the Corpse Emperor, but it was also not their friend.
He would not be making any offerings to it in the future.