Twelve had originally left the teleporter, not including the one who had carried the homing beacon into the Tyranid fleet. Of them, seven bodies would return – with only five of them moving. With their ab-human physiology, the space marines could limit their oxygen consumption to easily make the thirteen-hour wait… but as it became clear that Redmane and Mable's combined grief had deprived them of what little oxygen their tank and power armor was capable of storing, the space marines around them would cannibalize the dead.
Or at least, their armor. Connecting Mable's oxygen tube to the dead Astarte's air supply inside of his chest armor, Mable was able to resupply on oxygen, and due to whatever xeno-modification had occurred within her internals, or just because she was younger and had smaller lungs, Mable was able to hold her breath for longer periods of time than Redmane, who began to fade in and out of a controlled conscious state as Ulvos used her five-hundred-year-old son's armor to resupply her in bursts.
Then, as the thirteen-hour mark arrived, Mable would be held by the chain of fully conscious space marines… and, searching for the future, Mable would find it… but the foreboding black wall of nothing in front of her remained, even after the Tyranids were in theory dead.
When they arrived, the scene was… different, to say the least. The hive ship, having become stable, floating in stillness, drifted slowly away from when they had left it half a day ago… half of its original body missing after the nuclear blast severely crippled it. Looking at the scene of other dead vessels, Mable watched the once active environment of the hive fleet simply floated in the void.
It was peaceful.
Flying in the void of sea and meat, Mable would point to the hole within the flank of the hive ship she had originally entered. Moving towards the seemingly dead vessel, Ulvos would pull them through the silent cloud of charred viscera with his jetpack.
Carrying Redmane as they walked through the tunnels she had carved in her initial entry into the Tyranid ship, Mable would find the Night Shroud… partially impaled, attacked, and shoved… but ultimately fine looking. Wondering if this was because of the living metal 'Necrodermis' that seemed to heal most damage, or if the Tyranids just hadn't fully committed to the inanimate object's destruction when there were more important things to do, Mable would will the tomb open, and find the servo-skull trapped inside, next to the spare oxygen tanks Redmane desperately needed.
Breathing deeply, the woman would be placed in the seat of the Night Shroud to catch her breath while Mable and the Astartes looked around… only finding a single, very confused Termagant biting at the wall of the hive ship's meat interior to satisfy its hunger. Having seen the creatures do this before, when their psychic link to the hive fleet was severed, Mable would let the battle brothers put the creature out of its misery, and return to Redmane. Choosing to stay and guard their only way of moving back to somewhere feasible to be picked up, imaging how rough the flight was going to be for the three space marines that would have to cling to the ship's exterior, Mable would find the conscious Redmane staring at the servo-skull she had given her days ago… and then glancing to the satchel bag she had carried throughout the adventure.
"You still have that hard-drive?"
"Yeah." Mable confirmed over the vox, moving inside the Night Shroud and sitting in the woman's lap… who, rather than making a joke about her attempt to find comfort in the embrace of the armored woman, just accepted her presence.
"Good. Hold onto it. That will be important someday."
"Can you… be more specific?"
"No." The woman joylessly told and then informed her something awful. "We're not out of the time bubble yet."
"Soon?" Mable asked… not liking the idea that… everything she was going to suffer through was already… predetermined in a way.
"I don't know. That's the problem with time bubbles. You never know if you're out of it… you just know when your time in it is over."
"How… how so?"
After a moment of reflection, Redmane answered her question with another question. "Have you ever heard of the quandary between the chicken and the egg?"
"What's a chicken?"
There was a pause.
A moment of very genuine reflection now.
"I think it was some kind of avian livestock in the past. Regardless, it's an old Terran philosophical question. Which came first, the chicken or the egg? The baby, or the mother?"
Sitting in silence, waiting for an answer, Mable… tried to take the question literally.
"Well… the mother."
"Yes, but that mother was, at one point, a baby. The chicken, was once the egg, laid by a different chicken. Eventually, if we follow that logic all the way to the dawn of time… the answer remains unknowable." The inquisitor told her, letting out a scoff as she shifted, putting Mable into a more comfortable position on her lap. "That was the first thing they asked us to think about, when I joined the Ordo Chronos. I think they were trying to get us to open our minds about temporal positional awareness, or compare us to creatures that hadn't hatched from the mental prison that was our ignorance until then, but… for us, Mable… you're the egg right now, and I'm the chicken. One day, that's going to change."
Mable didn't say anything… because she didn't know if Redmane meant in general, or for her specifically. Unsure if… she was someday going to be meeting a younger inquisitor, and tell her everything that happened during this time, Mable… would question the woman who held her tightly.
"Did you know? That he was your son?"
A pause.
Silence.
She didn't want to answer.
But she eventually did.
"Yes." The dry voice of the inquisitor spoke.
"And… you chose to come anyways? You… let him come?"
"Well… I had no right to refuse him… and he clearly knew who I was. Hell, he probably knew the moment he saw you what was happening. Imagine… being a four-year-old boy, and, in the last days you ever hear about your mother, you see a xeno-human hybrid that invades your house, steals the shit she tasked you to protect, and then vanishes without a trace. Then, after being given the privilege of joining an associated inquisitorial order when you come of age, you hear tales of said xeno girl appearing throughout the years, always vanishing shortly after, scaring the populace like a ghost." Redmane… empathized, her son's life not being unknown to her as she explained her child's perspective. "And then, over a career that lasts half a millennium, that bitch just shows up in front of you, not knowing who you are at all… and the events you've already seen, quashed, and suppressed in the search for truth is all revealed in the last two weeks of your entire life. Thinking about that, and how he… so easily kept his mouth shut, and grasped the delicate situation… well, fuck. What a great goddamned inquisitor… that I'll never get to truly know."
The woman asked her one final, meaningful question… and as she felt like the woman was crying, Mable would just nod her agreement. "Isn't that awful?"
"Yeah… yeah it is."
"Thank you. Finally, someone gets it." Redmane breathed out… and then leaned her head against the resting pad that she had installed within the cockpit days ago. "I fucking hate time bubbles, Mable. I really, really, do."
"Same… same here." She whispered, finding a somewhat comfortable spot to rest her helmeted head on the woman's breastplate.
Feeling the knocking on the tomb's cockpit, both Mable and Redmane would jolt into alertness as she looked for enemies. Seeing instead the ceramite clad Ulvos and his battle brothers, Mable would crack the cockpit, and then be given a nod by the warrior who blared his vox at her.
"We need to get in range of the planet. The hive ship is dead, but… the fleet isn't, entirely. We'll need to go quiet, and slow." Ulvos stated… and as she nodded, she would give her order.
"Go, um… to the big hole, up there. I'll come out after, and you all can hop on. If we remove the teleport beacon, we can fit… the bodies of the inquisitor, at the very least."
"Leave it as it is. The Mechanicus would eviscerate us if we brought it back damaged." Ulvos stated… and as she nodded, the warrior would depart, leading the Primaris out towards the tunnel.
And back towards Hisperia.
Going as slow as possible, using as much of the still meat as possible for cover from the hive ships that were still harvesting from their planet, Mable flew them closer towards Hisperia. Watching as queues of these smaller Tyranid vessels lined up next to their larger dead kindred that refused to take any of the biomatter they had collected, Mable almost felt pity for the mindless vessels that were peacefully waiting for a response… until, at last, the servo-skull reacted. Piloting from the lap of Redmane, who jolted at the sudden blare of static that came from the entity's vox, Mable too would nearly jump in her seat and almost send her vessel into a barrel-roll to shake off an unknown enemy… but, as they calmed themselves, they were able to send a message out that their mission had been successful.
Telling her that Thunderhawks were on route, the skull simply ended the communication, which prompted Mable to inform those within her vox-range. Then, just waiting for another three hours as the space marine's surviving void-capable craft found them, Mable became incredibly jealous of those whose suits had bio-relief functions. Getting out with Redmane as the Thunderhawks who, she was told, had enough room for some privacy inside, Mable felt lucky that she didn't need to humiliate herself in this moment of victory for their species. Taking the opportunity to explore the compartments of the vessel she had only been allowed to sit within under supervision before, spending a grand total fifteen minutes wiping her face of the dried tears, drinking water, and using the pathetic 'facilities' on the vessel for long-distance flights, Mable would suit up, jump back into the Night Shroud, and then follow the Thunderhawks to Hisperia Prime Majoris.
Flying over the millions of dead Tyranids, Mable was informed over the short-range vox of what Ulvos was learning from his pilot aboard the Thunderhawk he was on. Piecing together through the static that, in the twelve hours after the introduction of the Wine of Oblivion, that the Tyranid fleet expended much of their biomass stores creating generations of creatures that were more resistant to flames, and possessed more eyes as an adaption against her specifically, it seemed. Sending this genetic material to the spawning pools on the planet's main continent where their hive city was, the millions of fresh Tyranids that were reestablished to the synapse network would, moments before marching into the hive city, drop dead.
Although these creatures were the first to slow and then fall by the defenders of the planet, soon too did the hive ships that had taken material from the heavily damaged vessel Mable had invaded. Spreading out the biomatter that had been dispersed throughout the ship, any Tyranid vessel that took from the Norn-Queen's pool from the main ship died within twelve and a half hours… the Eldar poison being extremely effective, regardless of their size. Wondering then why the Eldar did not use this poison on the Tyranids every chance they could, Mable would be chastised by the space marine over the vox, asking her:
"What do you think would happen if the Tyranids managed to replicate it?"
Not liking the idea of the Tyranids having access to such a lethal poison that a single drop could apparently kill a hive city of sixteen billion people, Mable had silenced herself, and heard the best news yet from the space marine:
The Tyranid tendril was clearly retreating as they descended. Not just pulling back, regrouping, and preparing for the next wave. The Tyranids were leaving the planet half eaten, and environmentally devastated for generations to come – but alive. Leaving behind any ship of theirs that was too stupid to connect to the new synapse's will, the hive fleet was leaving the system… and in a few days, would be off in search of a different planet to feast on. Avoiding their planet as though it was a Necron 'Tomb World,' which were apparently planets that were entirely claimed by the machine-aliens that she had greatly benefitted from, Mable… let out a laugh of disbelief.
There was still clean-up operations to do, as untold billions of now wild xeno aliens were scattering to the plains, foothills, and mountains of Hisperia. These billions would rally around the few creatures that had enough synapse to form an organized infestation, but even so, it became clear they had won.
They had done it. They had done it without titans, which were several dozen meter tall giants that slew armies on their own – and their absence being the reason why the Tyranid hivemind had not made expensive bio-titans of their own to crack their city walls. They had beaten the fleet without any sizeable void-craft, for the original Imperial Navy that had contested the space above their planet had retreated nearly immediately upon seeing the size of the tendril coming towards them – which now less than a fifth was still moving around.
They had not just survived and held out, but won… and although it was of little consolation after the fresh losses she and Redmane had suffered, Mable… knew that Sindarion would be proud of her, for their tireless efforts in fighting for her planet.
Redmane, upon finding out that she was the highest ranked inquisitor on the planet – for all others had either initially escaped or heroically died fighting for the planet, went on a multi-week hunt for any information about Mable, and obliterated it. Only unable to expunge the unknown Mechanicus records, for they were beyond even the Inquisition when she was but an isolated inquisitor, Mable heard the news that, at least in the eyes of the Ordo Xenos, Ecclesiarchy, and most importantly, the Administratum, she did not exist anymore.
Taking the news that things were good, Mable continued to rest up in the weeks that followed the Tyranid retreat, trying to keep up with the reports that were still trickling to her in the governor's mansion.
In terms of the Malcevisor Crusade, two thirds of the entire Astarte force was killed – and a handful were unaccounted for ever since the battle against the Swarmlord. Diminished, but still present enough to be an authoritative presence, the Angels of Death now awaited reinforcement and new orders from the marshal who originally ordered the castellan to this planet. Redmane, asking the Adeptus Astartes on her behalf what would be reported about any Saints or xeno-hybrids running around, would get an answer from the castellan that 'to his knowledge, there had been a lot of xeno-hybrids on the planet, and that she'd have to be more specific.'
Taking the implied silence for what it was, Mable would play the role of a ghost in the governor's mansion. Helping clean it with newly recruited serfs while in disguise, Mable rested in deserved solitude, being allowed to eat and drink as much as she wanted – within reason. Entertaining the bored daemon with the recorded war-footage of imperial forces, as he was entirely disinterested in the rebuilding effort going on Hisperia, Mable essentially had free reign to go wherever she wanted within the city – provided she did not do so while waving a flaming sword around and promoting her presence.
And what she found horrified her. Knowing that the prime hive of Hisperia had once been home to sixteen billion people, it was now down to an estimated seven, which were apparently just the 'good estimates' that local administrators were able to put together. Although she had not known it until weeks after her final mission, ten billion more lives were ended in the secondary and tertiary city on the other side of the planet while they had been fighting so hard for just one. Outside of their hive city only one other imperial bastion still stood, which had been the vital Adeptus Mechanicus manufactorum-fortress whose population was now busy leading the repair efforts of all destroyed infrastructure of the primary hive… and also studying the ecological damage of the planet.
The repair effort would be extensive, and require the greater empire to support them – as all food for the city needed to be grown in controlled climates that were sealed from the currently 'mildly' toxic atmosphere that the Tyranids used to alter their planet for better consumption. Essentially breathing in the essence of the planet if one were to walk without a rebreather on, the population that would be stuck in the middle hive for the foreseeable future would be forced to get creative if they wanted to claim more living space.
For now, the Mechanicus had secured their weapons munitions factories, and were resuming production to rebuild the fighting power that was still needed to wipe out the rest of the wild aliens, lest a creature grow in synapse potential, and require either her, or the Astartes to hunt down. Castellan Malcevisor, who was currently the overall commander of the planetary defenses now, did not want her in the public eye, and ordered her to remain within the city regardless of the threats that still plagued its borders, streets, buildings, or exterior plains.
Which he would remind her of several times after each of the few sorties she went out on at night to strafe the hordes or shoot down swarms of scattered gargoyles and singular harpies she had managed to find while 'stretching her legs.' Still only wanting to help, and limiting her involvement with the regular civilians and fighting soldiers of the imperium, Mable's insubordination would be a thorn in the side of the ever-grumpy, and omni-busy warrior that was becoming more akin to a planetary governor by the day. Always too distracted to genuinely punish her, the castellan would be given false promise that he had to accept as Mable intended to help for as long as she was capable of.
As the weeks continued to press on in the ebb and flow of minor emergencies needing to be solved, and then, the covert missions she'd take to meet with Erithi to ensure she was still doing alright, Mable would be alerted of a favor that was needing to happen by Redmane. Seemingly done with the vital 'inquisitor stuff' she needed to accomplish, Redmane broke into her room one night, told her of her strange desire, which Mable had no reason to refuse at this point.
Having grabbed her combat kit in case they encountered the few Tyranid elements that still infested the city, Mable quickly hopped to her feet and snuck out of the governor's mansion once again, taking the path Sindarion had shown her when they had stealthily flown away from the city in Valkyrie transport.
Needing to apparently take the woman back in time by a thousand years at the location of the orphanage, Mable had dutifully brought the inquisitor to the lower hive… which was now a ruin. Unsure as to the woman's motives, Mable was quite surprised as she found a small convent having taken residence in the old orphanage… and as she greeted the few civilians who were trying to reclaim some kind of life in the ruins that were abandoned during the xeno-cult uprising prior to the proper Tyranid invasion, Mable… would realize she saw a few familiar faces.
She had been the ninth child of her father, and although it had felt like decades since she had last seen them… their eyes were like her mothers. Soft, brown, and… much different from what Mable had become, she would go unrecognized by those who spoke of their sister, whose name had been the same as the Living Saint who had saved their city.
It had been a surreal moment, seeing her siblings be zealous and faithful. Filled with regret, and spite, towards the father who had apparently died during the once thought of insurgency, whose failures had begun when he had abandoned one his children as punishment for the death of his first wife. Telling her their story, unprompted and without notice of who they were really speaking to, Mable was told that her family had been culled by six members throughout the war for Hisperia. Telling Redmane and Mable that, were it not for their new mother – who had become a born-again 'Daughter of the Emperor' after a life of profiting as a harlot to miners – that none of them would be here, Mable… now felt entirely confused at the tale's conclusion.
The thought hadn't even crossed their minds that their abandoned sister had been the one to save the planet… to become the saint they now worshipped, alongside the Emperor of Mankind, in the same building they had abandoned her in.
Mable had laughed at that. She had laughed hard, and long, and in that moment of mirth, she had promised them she would leave, to never return. Telling them that she was glad that they had survived, Mable would depart without further word. Only getting looks of confusion, having been written off in her family's eyes years ago, probably, Mable… took the hand of Redmane, and asked if she was ready.
Getting a nod, Mable would vanish from her time.
As did Redmane, but for her, it would be forever.
"Ah. Ground zero." The woman sighed, looking at…
An empty foundation.
Blinking at that, Mable, having heard that the temple had been thousands of years old by the old matrons, would look to the woman who took off her rebreather.
"So… you said there was a tunnel that led into a facility here?" The woman asked… and as Mable… blinked, horrified by the realization that the lowest part of the hive had been the most recent edition to the city… she, looked to the one who jumped on the foundational stone. "How far would you say you went down, before finding the containment room?"
"I… don't remember." Mable truthfully stated, beginning to piece together what was happening.
"Eh, it'll probably be fine." Redmane dismissively told her, nodding to herself, and letting out a hearty laugh as Mable stared at her. "What?"
"You… you built it?"
Mable's words, despite sounding like it, were not a question.
"You wouldn't happen to remember the name of it, would you?" Redmane asked… and as Mable just stared at the one who ignored her question, the woman would continue on, uncaringly. "I was thinking… the 'Temple of the Forgotten Martyr.' Sounds good, doesn't it? A nice, forgettable name."
"I… Redmane, I don't understand." She told the woman whose brimmed hat was slowly… taken off. Revealing the graying, but still somewhat reddish hair, the older woman stared at her for a time, and left her with a small smile.
"I think this is where my time in this bubble end, Mable." The older woman spoke… looking towards the lower hive that was going to build into massive towers someday… her commentary being joyful, but… terrible, to the one who was with her. "It makes sense, though, right? What are the chances that a room you just bumbled into would have a secret tunnel that leads into a containment center for the Ordo Chronos? Do you really think that temples that… forgettable, would have secret tunnels to facilities such as that? Especially one so elaborate? I mean hell, you saw what I did with those other doomsday weapons. You think I'm the only inquisitor who relies on the trusty 'heavy brick' method? I hate to say it, but if it's not in a vault on a void-ship, it's getting destroyed by a brick, Mable. Preferably hundreds of kilometers away, but a brick nonetheless."
"That's… got to be the worst standard operating procedure I've ever heard of." Mable commented on, getting a shrug from the woman.
"You'd be surprised… what kind of holy…" The woman started, beginning to dig her hand into the rim of the interior of her hat. Watching in curiosity as the woman continued to speak, ripping something hidden from the central space that had stayed around the woman's head, Mable… felt confusion, as the Redmane revealed something alien to her. "Or, daemonic… relics that have met their ends to good ol', indiscriminating, trusty, rockcrete."
Truly working the hidden circlet out of her hat, Redmane eventually revealed the silver… or perhaps platinum crown that had eight small prongs poking out of the band. Tossing it to her, Mable… felt great confusion by the woman who stared at her knowingly.
"Smelt that down for me, would you? Platinum, or, as I hear, 'orichalcum' is worth a lot to some entities." Redmane told her… and as Mable slowly picked up the fractured crown, and then… felt a hat be placed on her head, she would look to the inquisitor she could only see neck down of now… the woman giving her a pointless compliment. "Wow. Look at you! Aren't you just Hisperia's cutest inquisitor?"
"A… hat doesn't just make you an inquisitor." Mable denied, her heart feeling crushed as she stared at the chest of the woman who was undoubtedly smirking at her in joy.
"Ha! That's what you think." Redmane told her… slapping her on the arm, adjusting the brim so that her face remained entirely obscured… and then, softly, placed her forehead against the… cranium section. Never having even owned a hat before, the most she ever had for headwear being a hood, Mable… felt her eyes burn as she felt so ignorant, and… lost, as Redmane whispered her final goodbyes. "Remember what you asked me when we first met?"
"How… how did the hat stay on?"
"Well, now you know." Redmane… could be felt, smiling with a terrible happiness. "Now… with that, all the mysteries are solved, right?"
"N-not at all." Mable sniffed… refusing to cry for the one she was saying goodbye to, while she was having such a good time at her expense.
"Yeah, well, you can't win them all. If you have doubts, just remember… keep faith…" The woman trailed off… and as Mable finished the phrase, she would laugh at the immediate rejection.
"In the Emperor?"
"What? Hell no, in the fucking Orb-peror, you time traveling idiot! You're still in the goddamned time bubble, Mable! Now, get the fuck out of here! I've got a lot of work to do, and I can't be seen cavorting with xeno-hybrids anymore!" Redmane said with a timeless energy, shooing her, dismissing her, pushing her, and then turning her back on her as she looked at the empty foundation that someone likely already had a plan for… which would undoubtedly be upset as Redmane plotted her next move. "Now… how many architects can I bully and bribe to build me a secret facility?"
Unable to answer such a question, Mable would slowly grip the fabric of reality… and, covering it over her new hat, holding the shards of a platinum crown that had apparently been broken with a brick, freeing the entity inside of it, Mable… let out a scoff as she spoke to the woman who didn't even turn to see her go.
"I'll be seeing you, Redmane."
Hearing nothing but the song of unity within the woman's heart, having heard it no louder than in this moment of truth, Mable fled from Hisperia's past… intent to never return to it.
"Nice hat." Mable heard as she laid down on her bed, placing down the platinum plates next to the halo of wires that seemed to grow emboldened by their placement. "Oooh. For me?"
"For you. Don't ask me where I got them." Mable stated, the daemon seeming offended by such a request.
"I'm going to be disappointed if you didn't murder someone for them. Are they war spoils? Loot ripped from dead warm hands? I'm curious, so tell me."
"Well… that's the fun bit. I don't know yet." Mable told the entity as she laid down… and as the daemon considered her words, she would stare into darkened 'crown' of a hat that Malcevisor had told her was the section that the brim surrounded. Finding it quite funny, as the halo would be forced to become the crown it had originally called itself, Mable took solace in the darkness… intent to sleep.
Blinking at her own thoughts, and then looking to the satchel bag that contained the hard-drive to the blueprints of the Solace of Hisperia… Mable glanced curiously at the wire crown trying to boil the platinum around itself.
"Don't look at me. I'm changing."
"Uh… okay." Mable agreed, and then stood up. "I'm actually needing to go somewhere. Will you come with me?"
"Will there be war?"
"Uh… maybe? I'm not sure." Mable truthfully stated… and after watching the platinum slowly begin to shift and bind… it became clear that the daemon had more important things to do.
"Oh… this is actually pretty nice. Wait, has someone been here before? Something smells… off. Like, as if a different daemon was in this until recently."
"Couldn't tell you." Mable muttered as she put on her shoes, and… did a double-take at the interior of her satchel bag, that Redmane, while distracting her with a hat, put a whole damned inquisitional seal inside of her bag. Smiling at the shiny metal 'I' that appeared to be of the same coloration as the crown that was being fashioned around her halo of wires, Mable… pulled the chain free of her bag, and placed it around her neck.
Trying out the image of an inquisitor, checking herself in the mirror of her black clothing, her seal, her big brimmed hat… and the flaming sword… Mable nodded to herself. Knowing it was a downgrade from 'Living Saint,' but likely afforded her a bit more operational cover, Mable would settle for becoming a false inquisitor until she managed to get herself a suit of power armor. Taking the scraps of the Solace of Hisperia, the hard-drive, and the aquila from Sindarion's helm, Mable quickly left to go find someone she could coopt to acquiring help from a different age.
And she felt like she knew just the person who'd be up for a little less tense time traveling experience, knowing that the busy Malcevisor had been the only Astarte she had yet to take on a time traveling adventure, and he could use a break for a little while.
They all could.