Chapter-12
Shadows in the Dark
Chateau Vasey
Brécay
Manche Commune
Occupied Francovia
1990.
The Chateau was silent at night. Inside, in the darkness, the Guardsmen and women of the XXIth Arkana regiment slept…everywhere. Their officers got the best rooms while they slept on the floors, the couches, just everywhere. The nation of Francovia had lost some eastern lands and even now was fighting a desperate and brutal battle for Parise. The sleeping guardsmen couldn't care less. This land, heck this planet was strange. The people here spoke various languages and had different cultures and religions. None of them knew about His Holiness the Emperor, or the Imperial Creed. All of this had nearly caused an Inquisitor to be restrained when he saw that a local church was dedicated to someone called "Jesus Christ." Said Inquisitor was also in this chateau, sleeping. Outside the tired sentries did not notice the shadow slipping in.
Wearing the gear of a commando, the soldier unsheathed his Commando knife and entered the room that was the main foyer, here he began his work with surgical precision. The first guardsmen received such a quick cut, that he did not even wake. Guardsmen who were sandwiched in three, two died while one remained. The man, whose insignia read OSS, the same as the Concordian organization from The 2nd Great War, continued doing this from room to room until he had covered the entire floor before heading upstairs to the bedroom areas. Here he dispatched Guardsmen sleeping in the corridors before dispatching officers, the Inquisitor, and other key officials in a similar manner. Commissars, he killed always, it was bad enough they wore such distinctive headgear.
Then quickly as that he went out. He spotted three sentries, timing his reactions he dodged and dispatched the two on the east side, hiding their corpses before going to the last sentry. This sentry, a young girl was rubbing her hands to get some warmth into them. Creeping up, the commando whispered, "Hey, you, Jodie Foster!" The girl gave a startled yelp before turning to face him. The sight would remain with her for the rest of her days. Light Blonde hair cut in a short buzzcut, a slightly handsome face with the bluest eyes that bore into her soul.
The sentry attempted to speak, not realizing that the people of this planet did not speak Low Gothic. Before she even had a chance to reach for her lasgun, a fist flew at her face. "Sweet Dreams." A voice whispered before she was flung backward onto the grass. Stars were spinning before her sight went black.
The commando inspected his handiwork with a slight grin. "Well, I think that's enough for 1 night." The commando chuckled at himself. Looking back at the chateau, he smirked again.
"Hasta la Vista guys, you are gonna have one hell of a shock when you guys wake up." And with that, he slipped into the night.
The first thing Guardsmen Hersh noticed when he woke the next morning was that the sun of this planet, was extremely bright. OH, come on… oh well, better wake up the guys and gals. Hersh thought before turning to the person next to him. "Hey, Cox." He shook the other guard. "Cox wake up man, commissar's gonna have a frakkin fit if we don't wake the hell up before the communion." The other man did not respond. Hersh frowned as Cox remained unresponsive, lost in apparently deep slumber.
"Hey, rise and shine!" He shook the other guardsman harder. Still no response. Now thoroughly annoyed, Hersh grabbed Cox's shoulder to roll him over.
"I swear if you're just shamming sleep I'll..." Hersh's voice died as Cox limply flopped out of his perch, landing on his back with a plonk! throat sliced wide open, eyes closed. Shocked, Hersh looked around, only now taking in the still forms of guardsmen and officers around him, blood pools beneath them.
Horror rising, he did the only reasonable thing any young man would do when surrounded by corpses, needless to say, his screams woke up the rest of the survivors.
"Hey whassa…whassa matta." Lt Lara came into the room swinging her powersword, behind her, a dozen others came. Spotting the corpses, the rest soon joined in on the screaming. The commissars were dead, so was the Inquisitor and a few officers. The screaming awoke the knocked-out sentry outside. Rubbing her eyes, the young girl entered the chateau. All around her, on other floors, on the ground floor, Guardsmen and women were waking up to dead comrades, some sandwiched between them.
"Holy…how in the Emperor's sweet Gold throne did this wiseacre get in here?" an officer wailed, tearing his hair out.
The shrill screams and cries of shock echoed through the halls of the chateau as the Imperial forces awoke to the carnage in their midst. Bodies littered the floors, comrades who had retired for the night now lifeless and coated in blood from slit throats. Utter confusion and alarm reigned among the survivors.
"Emperor's teeth, how did this happen?!" Lieutenant Lara shouted, swinging her power sword wildly as if expecting the killer to leap out. The young sentry girl staggered inside, roused by the bedlam, eyes going wide at the scene before her.
"Sound off, who's still alive?!" Lara yelled hoarsely. A ragged roll call followed as shellshocked guardsmen took stock of who remained. Nearly a third of their force was gone - commissars, the inquisitor, veteran officers and troops alike cut down in their sleep.
"Fan out, search the grounds!" Lara ordered, rallying her rattled unit. "Secure the motor pool, weapons lockers, everything! We have a killer loose here!"
The survivors mobilized on instinct, years of discipline overriding their horror. But as they stumbled over corpses and slipped in blood, the questions remained. How had one enemy infiltrated so deeply, leaving no trace but his victims? What objective could justify such wholesale carnage?
And most chilling of all - would he return to finish the job?
Lara suppressed a shudder, gripping her blade tighter. They had to fortify and prepare for another attack. But the shadowy killer had sown terror and paranoia with ruthless efficiency. He had turned their own refuge against them.
Miles away.
A few miles away, in a Peugeot Minivan that was driving away, the young man driving it cheered. "Dude, you are a genius." the blonde man beside him, the commando merely grinned, "You weren't so bad yourself Armand." The young man driving merely whooped.
"You gave those invaders a goddamn bloody nose." He returned his eyes to the wheel, "And you took crates of their weapons, especially those laser rifles of theirs."
The blonde shrugged, "These guys are extremely incompetent, I mean what idiot has such a massive cap? They are literally screaming Kill me."
Armand laughed, "Humorous as ever, Cray."
The blonde cocked his head. "For Pete's sake I have a first name, call me Jack. And what's the latest scoop in Brécay?"
Armand stopped laughing before speaking again. "Well as soon as this, fleet came into our orbit it began to invade. From what little news I could get from the radio, Afrika and South Liberia are the only continents under Invader Control. North Liberia, Euronia, and Erusea have multiple nations captured but we are still fighting. Here in Euronia, the Organization of Free Nations have established the "Parise Line." The Confederation of Concordia in North Liberia is sending us equipment but has to deal with the invaders on its east coast. Halifax, your Northern neighbor is doing all right I guess."
Cray nodded, motioning for Armand to continue. "In Brécay, the situation is not bad per se. These guys plant a few churches and oppress a few critics, but otherwise its all normal. The new "Governor" can't seem to understand the Internet, so he has those red-robed cyborg guys of his analyzing every piece of tech we have. You'd think these guys with that massive fleet of theirs and lasers would know what the internet is."
Cray began to think and analyze, his superiors back in DC needed any new info, especially with the East Coast under occupation. "Anything else." He asked Armand.
The other man began to rack his brains. "Oh yes, you know those black armored nuns, the ones with the fleur de lis and xenophobic attitude."
Cray nodded, "Yeah, what about them?"
"Well, they started a school, it's a massive church-like building with that gothic style. They began mollifying the parents to send their daughters here. The poorer ones have already given theirs up."
Cray looked up, "Shit, Checkpoint up ahead, you sure you hid the crates of weapons?"
Armand nodded, "Yup."
A guardsman appeared, hefting his Lasgun. Armand gave a cheerful smile and handed him the new Identification card. One of those robed cyborgs was inspecting the car in what looked like awe.
"Who's...the...friend." a female sentry asked in broken Edenite, pointing at Cray.
Armand flashed a disarming grin at the sentry as she haltingly asked about Cray in broken Edenite. Time for some fast talking.
"Oh him? He's my cousin, Alain, just visiting from up north," Armand lied smoothly, clapping Cray on the back. "Poor lad's a bit simple, born that way. I'm showing him the sights down south."
He nudged Cray sharply under the guise of a friendly shoulder squeeze, signaling him to play along and act dim-witted.
Cray did his best exaggerated vacant stare and dopey smile, letting a bit of drool slip out the side of his mouth for effect.
The sentry narrowed her eyes, struggling to parse Armand's rapid patter. But the robed Tech-Priest was already waving them through, satisfied they posed no threat.
Once safely down the road, Cray's smile faded. "Those soldiers you mentioned, the so-called Battle Nuns...looks like they're building some kind of academy?"
Armand shook his head grimly. "That's not good. Fanatical troops are bad enough, but if they start indoctrinating local girls too..."
He trailed off. They both knew it spelled trouble. Cray added it to the growing list of intelligence to report back on this occupation and its forces. The more they learned, the better chance of someday driving these conquerors out for good.
For now, though, they had a mission to complete. Armand gunned the engine, putting distance between them and the checkpoint. The weapons crates in back might mean life or death for the resistance. It was up to them to deliver the goods.
IMPERIAL FLAGSHIP DIVINE RIGHT.
Lord Admiral Vallin groaned. The aide was recounting what had happened planetside. "The XXIth Arkana were billeted at a manse in..." The aide squinted before butchering the word. "Vasey, in Frank-ova, in the continent of Eur-oonia?" The Prioress of the Order of our Martyred Lady blanched, "Vasey, that's near Brécay, we started a new training academy."
The Prioress of the Order of the Valorous Heart snickered. "What's the matter, princess?" The aide koffed before continuing. "At approximately 3 PM, a commando, or killer snuck in."
The Prioress of the Order of the Valorous Heart smirked again as her counterpart from the Order of Our Martyred Lady paled at the news of an attack near their new academy site in Brécay. An opportunity to embarrass a rival was too good to resist.
"What's the matter, Princess? Your fancy new school is a little too close to the action?" she sneered. "Perhaps we should station a Valorous Heart contingent there since your Sisters clearly can't secure the region."
The aide shifted nervously as he continued the troubling report. "This infiltrator managed to, ah, dispatch a significant portion of the Arkana regiment billeted at this chateau. Several veteran officers, the assigned Inquisitor, and the Commissars were among the, erm, casualties."
He swallowed hard before proceeding. "The methods were quiet and efficient. Slit throats as they slept. By dawn, nearly a third of the regiment was, well..."
"Out with it man!" barked Admiral Vallin, patience wearing thin.
"My apologies, sir. The end result was massive loss of leadership and morale, plus theft of some wargear before the killer vanished." The aide concluded meekly.
A shocked silence followed, broken by Prioress Mathilda snarling in rage. "How could this happen?! Those were consecrated halls, guarded by the Holy Inquisition itself! They had been Cleansed for Throne's Sake!"
Prioress Ludmilla laughed coldly. "Some inquisitor you assigned! He slipped past your vaunted defenses like a shadow!"
Mathilda whirled on her, eyes blazing. "And I suppose you could have done better, with your pack ofHenry. usurpers?!"
"Why you pompous little-" Ludmilla shot back before Vallin slammed a fist down.
"Enough!" He bellowed. "Save your petty rivalries for another time! We face a coordinated foe here, willing to strike at vulnerabilities. "
He speared each Prioress in turn with an icy glare. "Increase security at all facilities. Vet personnel thoroughly. And for the Emperor's sake, stop bickering over precedence and work together!"
Both women had the grace to look abashed. Vallin took a breath, composing himself before turning back to the nervous aide. "Have our remaining forces on this…Francovia been alerted to tighten defenses and be wary of infiltration?"
The aide nodded. "Yes sir, the order has gone out to all regional commanders. They are on high alert for further commando raids."
"Very good," Vallin said. "We will overcome this enemy's tricks in time. But only through vigilance and unity."
The Prioresses murmured assent. Vallin only hoped it would be enough. This shadowy foe was unlike anything they had faced before.
Sister Angela Sabriya, 3rd Company, 2nd Squad
Adepta Sororitas Order of the Valorous Heart
Somewhere in Ul-raz-navia?
Angela ducked before the shot slammed into the concrete wall. Damn! She thought. For weeks they had been brutally fighting for this sector. Everything was built in either the same grey, minimalist, utilitarian concrete blocks that were massive, or skyscrapers of glass and steel. Crawling on her stomach, she got inside what must have been some family living space-luxurious by Imperial standards. The living space now served as a sort of HQ for the squad. Latia was cleaning her heavy bolter, Agatha was checking a few pieces of technology, Sister Superior Celestia was talking on the Vox, Mayleena, the youngest was praying and Maria…was reading local literature. Angela shrugged before joining her little daughter, Ayla.
"Hey Kiddo, you've eaten?" she asked her daughter. The 5-year-old nodded. She had Angela's brown hair; Angela patted her shoulder.
"It'll be alright, I promise." She kissed her on the forehead before looking around. Seeing as there was nothing else to do, she took a few books and began to read. The first one had a strange sort of name in its native language…Lied der Gotter.
"Well…aren't you a pretty thing," Angela said as she inspected the book. It was a reddish-brown hardback. On the cover, 3 circles were etched like a Venn diagram, in each a small diamond. Star? Whatever it was, Angela didn't care, she opened the book and began to read.
There exists a connection between all of us that few are fully aware of. A song that we all dance to, but few can hear. This deep vibration of the cosmos can not just be heard and felt. We all resonate in harmony with it, shaping it, deforming it around us.
Those select few who can consciously perceive it often fear it. Too oppressive is the sound of the stars, too invasive the noise of the unaware around them, polluting the song with their fickle emotions. But every once in a while, some are born who cannot only hear and play this music of the worlds but who can conduct it. Gifted individuals are capable of manipulating the essence of the world around them.
Many believe that the Grand Empress and Emperor were such beings. Their immense will bent Ulraznavs into the Empire of Ulraznavia and lifted us to the stars during the medieval times. It was their power that imbued life into the first of the machine servants that now carry the weight of our nation on their carbon-steel backs.
"The fuck is this?" Angela said to herself. What the hell was this shit. It talked about some, song or something. And this "Grand Empress and Emperor" were these people the statues she often saw in the churches. This book looked as if someone had made a botched attempt at combining the beliefs of the Mechanicus and the Imperial Creed. Snapping the book shut, she inspected another one. This one was a slim, almost utilitarian booklet.
"Bioresonanz Technologie und Ihren Grenzen." She red on the cover before opening it. "I swear if this is another piece of nonsensical bullshit, I will burn it."
This passage was more of a structured one. Less fantasy and more informative.
No other technology has changed our Nation as Bioresonance has. Would we ever have been able to free ourselves from the stranglehold of the Empire without the support of Replikas? Essential technologies from the 50s like Klimaforming and Induced Gravity would be impossible without Bioresonance Technology. Despite that, it feels like we've made little effort to really understand or replicate bioresonant effects with conventional technology. Our progress in the development of electronics and microprocessors has stagnated for nearly a century now as we focus on this barely understood phenomenon. Take Replika production, for example The process of duplicating a neural pattern from a Human host to a Replika brain is still not fully understood. How does Synchronicity happen? Why is the duplicate imperfect? What happens to the preexisting patterns in the receiving brain? Recreating a Replika purely with acroprocessors and digital programming may be far out of reach, but I believe that we are looking at a poorly understood technology controlled solely by a few gifted individuals.
Angela groaned before closing the book as well. "Are these guys really fucking simpletons," This planet seemed messed up? Sighing she trooped over to Maria. "What are you reading?" she asked tiredly.
"Oh nothing much, just what seems to be a sci-fi novel." The illustration on the cover of Maria's book depicted a spacecraft engaged in a turning maneuver. "Die Jäger des Sternennebels ("The Hunters of the Star Nebula"), really Maria? "
"Plus, the other novel is good too." Maria shoved another book in her face. "Millenium Königin ("Millennium Queen")" Angela read.
The cover depicted a long black-haired woman with pale skin wearing red armor, with the night sky, a scarred planet and its moon in the background. The woman also had a halo around her head. Angela sat down next to Maria. "So, Maria, what do you think is Bioresonance? And what are these Replika's, from my bare understanding of the language, are exactly.? I'd like your theories on this."
Maria chuckled as Angela plopped down next to her, clearly baffled by the strange books. She set down her sci-fi novel and pondered the question.
"Alright, let me take a crack at this. Based on context, I'm guessing these 'Replikas' are some kind of androids or artificial humans," she theorized. "And 'bioresonance' refers to replicating an actual person's brain or consciousness to create them."
She tapped her chin thoughtfully. "The book mentioned a 'neural pattern' being copied over, and preexisting patterns in the receiving brain. So maybe they take a blank android brain, scan a human's mind, then transfer their memories and personality over into the machine."
Angela looked skeptical. "That sounds insanely advanced. Are you telling me these heathens can copy souls into soulless machines?"
Maria held up her hands. "Hey, just hypothesizing here! Though it does seem they rely heavily on this bioresonance process for much of their tech and industry."
She picked up the other book Angela had rejected. "As for this fantasy nonsense, no clue. Magic songs, gifted individuals shaping reality with their willpower?" She snorted derisively.
"Clearly some primitive superstitions linger, even in such an otherwise advanced society. Every culture has its irrational beliefs."
Maria stretched and grabbed her sci-fi novel again. "Anyway, that's my best guess on their techno-wizardry. Let me know if you decipher more from these weird books!"
She settled back in to read, glad to take a mental break from the chaos outside. Angela had asked for theories, but Maria knew better than to put too much stock in the texts of heathens and heretics. Even if their subject matter proved fascinating.
IMPERIAL MEDICAL SHIP "HOUSE OF the HOLY CHALICE"
Orbit above newly discovered planet Nova Arcadia
Day-2 of Invasion.
Apocathery Ferdinand Sigizmund stared at the corpse on the autopsy table. It was a young woman of maybe 19 standard years of age. He checked his dataslate.
"Myra Bryonis, Astropath and Psyker aboard Lord Admiral Vallin's personal flagship the Divine Right." Sigizmund stared at the corpse. With him, was a member of the Adepta Sororitas Hospitaller, the Order of Serenity, a Techpriest and an Imperial Navy Doctor. Sigizmund himself was a Black Templars Apocathery but had come aboard this ship on personal orders of the Lord Admiral.
"Well?" Sigizmund asked surprisingly softly, for an Astartes. "Have we found the cause of death yet?"
The navy doctor, an experienced one as seen from his bionic hand and scars wiped blood of his garb. "No…not a goddamn thing of this looks familier." The doctor had a strange accent way of talking, one that reminded Sigizmund of the ancient Terran "New Yorker" accent.
The Sister Hospitaller removed her surgical mask. ''it's the strangest thing I've ever seen, and the only other thing it reminds me of is that Astartes Librarian that was picked up yesterday. His squad was most distraught."
All three now inspected the corpse once again. Myra Bryonis, noted Sigizmund, was quite pretty, although now that was up for debate. Her skin looked to pale, almost white and translucent, her lips, once full were now twisted and frozen in a silent scream. The worst were her eyes though, Sigizmund remembered from the pic on her profile that they were Cadian Purple, now, the entire eye looked black, Irises, even the whites. Two inky black pools stared out at them. Her cheeks were covered with what looked like black tear tracks.
The doctor was the first to speak, "I've seen the worst infections in my life, Tyranid, Genestealer, hell I even had to heal a guy who was infected by those Death Guard bastards, those Nurgleites." He suppressed a shudder, "But this…" he gestured at the corpse. "This ain't no Chaos Corruption and it sure as hell ain't a warp born thing.
He looked back at Sigizmund and the Sister. "What the fuck was she tryin to do?"
Sigizmund consulted the dataslate. "According to Lord Vallin, he sent Ms. Bryonis to sed a message to Lord Robute Guilliman to inform him the reason for our delay in not arriving to join his new crusade against Hivefleet Leviathan. Ms. Bryonis followed the Admiral's orders, and she began to try and reach Holy Terra and the Astronomicon…followed by screaming, something about us not being in our Milky Way, or not feeling the Warp or Astronomicon… and hearing a song and a dark mass…" he trailed off
"What next." The doctor asked accusingly. "Why the hell you stopping."
Sigizmund looked up at them, "i…am not at liberty to say.."
"Bullshit!" the doctor accused. "Here gimme that." With surprising strength he wrenched the slate from Sigizmund's hands.
"No! Stop!" Sigizmund tried to reach for the slate, but the doctor had seen it. "Holy Terra…. I need a drink." The doctor handed it to the Hospitaller. "Watch It! the recording! It shows everything that happened to the lady."
The Sister Hospitaller took the slate and began to watch it.
Myra Bryonis entered the room, preparing to transmit the data through her Psychic link to Terra to Lord Robute.
"Terra High Command…this is Battlefleet Scolaris…Come in Terran High Command.
Some seconds pass as the young woman stands and waits for a reply.
"Terran High command…come in…. Terra?
Bryonis pauses, through the vid, the viewer can see the faintest traces of black, the blackest black one can see.
"No! Impossible. No…no nononononono, There's no Warp! no Chaos! I would be quite happy at that but there's nothing. NOOOOOO!"
The Astropath Navigator shudders. "Impossible! Nooooo! No! No! No! please no! I can't see it. I can't see it at all!
At this point the girl has broken down into sobs.
(While sobbing.) "I'm Blind! I am fucking Blind! My eyes can't see at all. I can see everything, but at the same time, I can't See HIM! NOOOOOOO! His star isn't shining, The Astronomicon's light is missing, the Emperor's Star is gone! He's gone, We're all DEAD!
At this point the girl is on her knees sobbing, before giving an animalistic howl and shriek. Curiously, her tears and eyes are now fully black. Suddenly, the sobbing stops. Bryonis cocks her head upward, almost as if she's listening….
The video continued playing as the three doctors watched in disturbed fascination. The young astropath's breakdown had been shocking enough. But then her demeanor changed entirely.
The Hospitaller's face paled as she watched the disturbing footage of Astropath Bryonis' breakdown. The Navy doctor crossed himself muttering a prayer, while Apocathery Sigizmund's expression was stony.
On the vid, Bryonis' sobs ceased abruptly as she cocked her head, as if hearing something. "I hear...music...a song...it's beautiful..." she murmured dreamily, black-streaked face serene.
Then she threw back her head and howled, a guttural cry of pure agony, before collapsing.
"Throne of Terra..." the Hospitaller whispered. "It was as if something was...speaking directly into her mind at the end."
The Navy doctor shakily lit a lho stick. "Dunno what in the warp could make an Astropath flip her lid and burn out like that," he rasped. "But sure as hell don't seem natural or wholesome at all."
The Astropath woke up on the vid, the doctors watched in fascination as Myra cocked her head, as if listening to some inaudible sound. A smile slowly spread across her face, beatific and utterly mad.
"Yes...I hear it now too," she whispered reverently. "The song…its ...so beautiful!"
She clasped her hands to her chest, enraptured. "Why do you all resist? Just let go...become one with its harmony!"
The doctors exchanged uneasy glances. This was no chaos corruption, but the girl was clearly no longer sane.
Myra laughed softly, tears of inky black trailing down her cheeks. "It calls to me...promises such wonders!" She stretched out a hand as if to grasp something only she could see.
Then abruptly, her body went rigid, back arching. A silent scream contorted her face as cracks split her flesh, revealing the dark mass roiling beneath.
With a final chilling sigh, Myra collapsed, flesh calcifying to porcelain stiffness. The video ended, leaving the autopsy room dead silent.
Finally, the Navy surgeon spoke up hoarsely. "I changed my mind...I don't need that drink anymore. Not sure I'll ever sleep soundly again though after seeing that..."
The Sister Hospitaller quietly murmured a prayer, making the sign of the Aquila. Sigismund just stared numbly at the corpse on the table. Whatever malign force had corrupted the doomed astropath, it was beyond anything they had ever faced before.
Yes...I am taking a few things from Signalis. It's such a fascinating concept...Bioresonace vs Psykers. As for Maverick in the previous chapter, this is a different version where the Events of Top Gun ocuured in the 90s.