Peril 2.5
Victory of Politics
We fought for twenty-seven years the Orks on Dacium. It was a horrible war, the greenskins had complete aerial superiority for the first ten years and in the first months my regiment was wiped out three times before being brought back to strength anew and thrown back on the frontlines all over again. We bathed in the blood of our companies and fired with the weapons of destroyed armies. We had to fight night and day the xenos and their technologic aberrations that should never have functioned correctly. For twenty-seven years I prayed the God-Emperor to send be away from this forsaken hellhole.
When the bureaucrats of the Administratum finally noticed my service terms were long fulfilled, I was a general and one of the few men having participated to the first landing. They shipped me back home aboard a light cruiser two Terran months later. At the time, I thanked the God-Emperor for his merciful deliverance.
Then I came back home and discovered that as long as fought the orks in the trenches and the swamps, at least I hadn't to deal with the nobles of my Hive...
Memories of a Wuhanese soldier from an anonymous author, 530M34.
"Ah, Imperial politics. My only weakness." Last words of Lord Solar Severus Amor before being thrown into a lake of supergators, 998M33.
"The soldiers of the Guard win the day on the battlefield; the diplomats lose their nights in their gold towers." Anonymous Nyx Guard veteran.
"Let the games of the Asao Gold Hour begin..." Governor Chen Cao of Wuhan, ten hours before his assassination by the Inquisitorial strike teams.
Ultima Segmentum
Nyx Sector
Moros Sub-Sector
Wuhan System
Wuhan II
7.272.289M35
Thought for the day: They who feast today do so in ignorance of their mortality. Tomorrow they must die or change.
Sergeant Gavreel Forcas
His armour had always been black, a colour really useful when it came to hide the battle-damage it had received to the eyes of the enemy. In its ruined state however, it was a colour of ruin and shame. He could only thank the long-dead tech-priests who had once made his battle-armour. His alert sensors had told him the protections had been pulverised. Seeing the different parts spread on the workshop of Magos Lankovar, this estimation was safely conservative. This damned C'Tan had played with the reinforced layers of ceramite like a tank played with light infantry.
The difference in firepower and technology had been that great, apparently.
"I suppose, Magos, that there is no hope of rebuilding my armour?"
Gavreel asked the question but in his heart he already knew the answer. The first two battle-armours he had once worn before this had been replaced for far less intensive damage. This one had the chest plates broken not once, but in five places. The legs cables and their servos were out of order. Every cogitator and armour-control was dead. The reserves of air had shut down minutes after Iash'uddra had slammed him down on the ground of the xenos fortress-temple. The blood oxygenation chambers were experiencing critical problems. The temperature regulator was randomly showing temperatures varying from absolute zero to the inferno of a volcanic world.
The Imperial Truth told you there were no miracles, but that his battle-armour had received such damage and he had had minor contusions and wounds that his transhuman body had easily healed...well, it made him wonder.
"Simulations give a 0.00058% opportunity of restoring your Mark IV Maximus-pattern Power Armour," said the Adeptus Mechanicus in his toneless voice. "Astartes armour reparation is not my specialty but should I find an Adept of this tech-speciality in the Nyx Sector, there is a high probability this venerable armour would be declared unsalvageable."
At the Magos command, two red-robed servitors pressed series of commands and half a dozen green-lighted screens lighted in front of them.
"It is extremely regrettable, naturally. Maximus-pattern Power Armours of the thirty-first millennium are valued relics." Desmerius Lankovar spoke in a half-conversing half-teacher mode. "I had heard about how the joints and the new armour casings were a revolution when Mars authorised them of course. They provided a fifty-three per cent increase in protection and seventeen more minutes of battle-endurance at the price of three-per cent mobility. It was an acceptable performance for the final days of the great Crusade."
Then the images of his armour and the schematics as they should have been if they had been operational vanished to be replaced by a new model of power armour. At first glance, it looked impressive. The chest plastron had been considerably compared to the Maximus-pattern and the helmet was showing a family air with the Corvus prototypes which had been tested before they were banished on Caliban. The armour of the shoulder was also different and it had the double-eagle of the Emperor on the chest.
"This is the blessed Mark VII Aquila-pattern Falco-variant Power Armour." The representative of Mars explained before turning his head in his direction. The Magos had done a good job providing the illusion of an appearance, but his face was too...rigid. He was ready to bet there was a lot of metal underneath this shell of flesh. "This is one of the best armours equipping the great warriors of the Adeptus Astartes now."
Gavreel thought rapidly about it. The tech-priests rarely mentioned things just to listen the sound of their own voice.
"You have found a way to obtain one of these power armours."
Lankovar nodded vigorously.
"Between the events of Fay and the decisive actions done on Wuhan, Magos Suvrex-Gamma has expressed significant satisfaction at the outcome of Hive Asao's battle. Civilian and military production has resumed and the quotas of the Administratum will be compensated in two and a half months. Thanks to his support and those of several Magos in the Harbin System, I have been able to secure one Mark VII power armour from Metalica for your personal use, Sergeant Forcas. If the Warp-currents are favourable, it should arrive in five weeks."
"My thanks for providing a replacement armour so quickly, Magos."
"Don't thank me so rapidly...Legionary."
The former member of the Calibanite Defence Force observed in milliseconds his surroundings and noticed how empty the Mechanicus workshop was. Aside from a dozen of servitors, Lankovar was the only thinking being inside these halls. Obviously it was not a coincidence.
There was no vicious and threatening move from the Magos Explorator but Gavreel felt unease meeting this unblinking stare. More than ever, he knew how vulnerable he was in the simple black robe he wore.
"You know." It was not a question.
"You introduced yourself as a member of the Dark Angels Legion." Desmerius Lankovar slammed the lower extremity of his sceptre against the ground. "But the Legions have been disbanded by the order of Lord Commander Roboute Guilliman and forged into Chapters after the Scouring over four thousand years ago."
Gavreel tried not to show sadness at the mention of how many centuries the galaxy had endured before he reintegrated reality. In the days since the end of the battle, he had had the confirmation the days of the Crusade were long gone and the Imperium he had served a forgotten memory, but hearing a high-ranking member of the Mechanicus speak it still hurt.
"It is not what I mean and you know it, Magos." The Dark Angel patiently replied. "You are aware of Astartes like me who suddenly appeared on worlds long after their disappearance."
"It is possible Stygies VIII Magos are aware of incidents involving black-armoured Astartes wearing the symbols of the First Legion." This was the next best thing to a confirmation he was going to get. "But our investigations on these appearances have faced complications. Many of the mysterious Astartes have fallen to the Ruinous Powers and must be eliminated at all costs."
The souvenir of certain superior officers modifying their symbols came to his augmented mind. What had these idiots been thinking? He liked less and less the weird orders the 'Saviour of Caliban' and their commanders had given them...
"But there are also the Dark Angels Chapter and their successors to take into account." Astartes could not feel fear but Gavreel knew the shiver in his spine was not a feeling of battle-joy. Of course their former brothers knew what happened on Caliban and how they had betrayed their vows. And if their wrath was sufficiently roused, he would be lucky to get a bolter round in the head when he met them and opened his mouth to salute. "Every time there are whispers of these black-armoured warriors somewhere in the Galaxy, it is an extremely rare event if a Dark Angel Company does not come investigating within a decade."
"I suppose they do not offer explanations." His Legion and the Orders shaping it had had their own share of secrets and they certainly would not boast of a battle which pitted brothers against brothers on their homeworld.
"They lie from the moment they appear to the moment they depart." It was obvious Magos Lankovar was not the greatest admirer of the Dark Angels. Whether it was because the First Legion had stopped them from gaining the access to important pieces of archeotech or for more personal reasons remained to be seen. "And sometimes the servants of the Omnissiah disappear while successors Chapters of the First Legion are in the same sub-Sectors. There are still three unexplained incidents in which Explorator fleets from Stygies have disappeared metal, flesh and soul without leaving traces." The sceptre was slammed a second time. "Stygies is not the only forge-world to have suffered losses in these circumstances. Therefore, there are...protocols and safety measures I have taken the liberty to activate on my own authority. The ten companies of the Dark Angels are currently engaged in a campaign against the secessionists of Nova-Terra but it is better to take no risk."
"What sort of measures?" He didn't know what the cogboys had invented in the last millennium, but during the Great Crusade contingency measures of the Mechanicus had a disturbing frequency to end in pulverised warships, destroyed cities and lost records...
"You are officially a Battle-Sergeant of the Dark Wardens, a Chapter of some renown which was officially recognised lost by the High Lords of Terra four hundred years ago," declared the red-robed Magos. The images of the screens changed to reveal the image of black-armoured warriors which indeed had a lot of common points with the power armour he had used until now. They had not used the wings of the Dark Angels, but the silver creature they had used as their banner was sufficiently close to silence the doubters. "Since there was some speculation among the Genetors if they were issued from the Lion's gene-seed, it shouldn't be too difficult to explain you were one of the Astartes sent on independent deployment who survived your Chapter destruction."
This...it could work. It would probably require a lot of paperwork and reshuffling official reports who may or may have not seen the debris of his armour.
"And what do you want in return?" His interlocutor had been perfectly obliging, but Gavreel was not completely naive. A set of Astartes power armour was expensive and thus a huge investment of money. By the Great Beasts, the Fay regiment could sold several of its Chimeras and still not have enough money to pay for one.
"First, I want your recollection of the events having taken place on Caliban in the first years of the thirty-first millennium."
Two seconds of reflexion were enough to accept. While he knew the Caliban officers had betrayed and lied to them, it was the Lion who had sent them to Caliban and forgotten them while the Great Crusade entered its most glorious phase. And trying to erase all traces of the past...many of his brothers had just been massacred in their fortresses. Moreover if the Mechanicus was aware of some of Caliban's secrets, maybe the Dark Angels would need to be more careful threading around the armies of the Imperium...
"Agreed but be aware I was a Sergeant and I have no idea what went on between our commanders and their exchanges with the installations in orbit around the planet." He warned.
The first instant after all when he had truly realised how badly they had screwed up was when the drop-pods had screamed their war song in the atmosphere.
"Since we have little but old tales and baseless rumours, anything I will know will be far better than the information we don't have," shrugged the Magos Explorator. "Second, you will join the expeditionary forces under my command when I leave for the Andes System in two months. I will leave you the choice between harbouring the symbols of the Black Wardens or the unadorned armour of a Blackshield."
"My allegiance does not go to Mars...or other forge-worlds." Gavreel rumbled. Rarely during his service had Astartes Legionaries served under Mechanicus Explorators and for excellent reasons. At the first sign of technology, military goals and plans were going out of the windows leaving the military deal with the fallout.
"Your allegiance as we speak is to no one." And there was something like reproach hinted by the Mechanicus Tech-priest. "I offer you a chance to change this."
"How?"
"Major Taylor Hebert saved your life twice. She will travel with me along the rest of the Fay 20th. I suggest," by the way Lankovar stressed the word, it was anything but a suggestion, "that you swear a Knight-Oath to her. You will be her shield and fight for her in the name of the Emperor until the debt you owe her is repaid."
Under his breath, the Sergeant cursed. The Mechanicus knew far more in their data-banks about the Dark Angels' culture than they had thousands of years ago. It was logical, but it was frustrating. And it did not help he was right. If Gavreel refused to do it once he had been offered the 'choice', his honour and word would be absolutely worthless.
"I accept," he affirmed, doing his best to remove his hostility from his expression. The Major may be worth following in the end, but the Mechanicus certainly was not. He would follow the young woman until the honour-debt was fulfilled or death came for him...but blind obedience to Stygies VIII and Mars was out of the question. "Are there any other conditions you want to add?"
They were more, as a matter of fact. In his mechanic mind, the Magos Explorator had perhaps thought about hundreds of points. The recovery rights and purchases of archeotech were figuring in good place, but there were far from the only issues. Replacement of Astartes gear, xenos civilisations to purge or to ignore, dealings with the local political structures...between the logistical and political problems Gavreel Forcas felt a painful headache. He had never appreciated how boring and thankless the work of the non-Astartes in the Expeditionary Fleets of the Crusade was; after two hours in this room he had the shadow of an idea and none of the will to learn more. The Legionary had also never bargained in a long time, and he had a dreadful feeling the transactions were extremely one-sided and not in his favour.
When the door opened in a metallic hiss to reveal Lankovar's second-in-command and Major Hebert, he did not jump in joy but certainly felt a large relief.
The happiness was certainly not returned by the two new arrivals. Both the Mechanicus Questor and the Guard Major looked particularly...tired and disgruntled. It was more difficult to see on Alena Wismer's face of course, but her mechadendrites were spiralling violently and the flashing green eyes were far more brilliant than usual.
"I take it your day was not as productive as ours," started Desmerius Lankovar before shutting his vocal apparatus when the young insect-controller sent him a death-glare.
It was not as effective as it was normally was, since in this parade uniform covered with military decorations, her appearance was a bit...ridiculous. At least it was for his Astartes senses.
"You told us it was a small parade and a modest celebration ceremony," growled Taylor Hebert." We had to walk five hours in front of this monstrosity of a palace, endure one hour of platitudes and three hours of shaking hands and bowing in front of the Lord-Magnates!"
"Err...yes." The Magos Explorator suddenly discovered himself a firm urge to turn around and examine the flow of data recorded by his servitors. "It was a small ceremony by Wuhan standards. According to Magos Suvrex-Gamma and the archives I have been able to visualise, the parades and other ceremonies which are planned for the Sanguinala and the Governor's birthday are easily ten times this size."
The mutters of the Guard officer in Low Gothic gave him an accurate idea of what she thought of these 'small celebrations'. An opinion Gavreel shared. There had been celebrations when the Great Crusade was conquering the Galaxy. Pretending otherwise would be extremely hypocritical. But the wealth and the decadence of the nobility ruling this Hive World...no, he had not had the displeasure to meet this spectacle of debauchery when he was crusading with his brothers and exterminating the enemies of humanity. The Governors of this time had not been paragons of virtue, but they had been competent military officers rewarded for long decades of military service and countless triumphs. The corruption, administrative problems and intrigues had existed, but there were nothing compared to the atmosphere of murder and poisonous machinations reigning now.
Dynasties had forgotten their origins and what had seen them rise to power after four thousand years. The Masters of this world had become corrupt and did not care about their duty to the Emperor. Billions of people worked in the most complete misery to fuel the forges and the factories while people who had nothing but their birth to be proud of feasted and partied every hour they were awake. It was sickening.
"I hope the ball organised tonight will not be in the same league, in your interest." The smile on the face of the woman who had just convinced Trazyn the Infinite to steal men and xenos elsewhere was somewhat evil. "You're invited too, Lord-Magnate Asao's recommendation."
"I wonder who suggested this invitation to him," said the Magos Explorator, turning his attention away from his screens and displays to look at them.
"I have no idea what you're talking about," replied virtuously the second-in-command of the Fay 20th.
Lankovar was not human but the loud grunt he made told them not all of his humanity had fled his carcass of meat and alloys.
"My simulations can affirm the contrary with 97.45 per-cent certainty." Unblinking eyes fixed the chest of the Major. "I see they gave you new decorations."
"The Order of Wuhan First Class, the Asao Cross, the Cao Shield, the Gold Skull, the Marksman Laser Target and the Astra Militarum Underground Battle Medal." The young woman recited, pointing to each military medal as she listed the awards she carried on her black and grey uniform. "And according to Imperial regulations I will be forced to wear all of them every time I am invited to a formal ceremony..."
Despair may be too strong a word to describe the accent in the Major's voice but there were hints of revulsion. He could sympathise, really. All these medals had just been won in two campaigns and were somewhat on the light side compared to what the Wuhan PDF officers had been granted, but the amount of metal the Fay officer carried had to be enough to stop one or two shots from a laspistol. It was certainly not a small weight.
But many soldiers had confided while he was in ear-range that unless you were awarded one of ten greatest Guard decorations galactic-wide like the Star of Terra or the Order of Ollanius Pius, regulations imposed you wore all of them.
It was inefficient to the extreme, but the Guard was not and never would be the Imperial Army, alas.
"Amusing," commented the Magos Explorator though as always, no sign of amusement or hilarity could be found on this imperturbable face. "But I fear that we will need to hurry if we must assist to this ball of victory. Let's speak of the Necron technology we have managed to save."
"You have understood how their technology works?"
The nod received in return was definitely negative.
"I concluded a few things from my studies...mainly this technology is far in advance from anything the Mechanicus is able to create in our forges. It is beyond our means to replicate and the only certainty we have is that with the null-wards installed all over my workshops, these 'Necrons' never relied on Warp-based engines and weapons. These scarabs and crystals are breaking several laws of physics but they are achieving it by non-psychic means. How they achieved this feat... "
Gavreel had never thought he would see the day where a member of the Mechanicus admitted he had no idea what he was working on, but this day evidently was full of surprises.
"And the lines of codes extracted from the scarabs?"
"We have entire libraries worth of data...for all the cogs and promethium it's going to provide us." Mechanicus Magos did not sigh but Lankovar was not far from there. "There are eighteen thousand and four hundred-two unknown distinct cryptograms in the Necron alphabet. Since asking the Infinite Collector is going to be problematic, not to mention dangerous, we have nothing to run our cogitators on."
"Tech-Priest Ur-Alpha suggested these symbols may be based on existing star constellations." Wismer told her superior. "The solution to understand the Necrons may be in our astrogation charts."
"This theory brings its lot of problems – assuming it is true." Lankovar seemed reluctant at acknowledging a theory was good if it didn't come from his brain. "We have no point of reference, no idea where the Necron homeworld is and of course none of us has heard a Necron speak in their language."
Said like this, it was true the chances of deciphering a complex xenos code were small.
"And don't forget how old the Necron civilisation probably is," continued the Master of the Magos Laurentis. "It is likely their culture rose to the stars tens of thousands years ago."
"They predate the settlement of the Imperium on Wuhan for sure." Taylor Hebert said quietly. "Someone would have noticed if the Necrons were building their refuge-fortress under Hive Asao."
This meant the Necrons had probably dominated this sector of galactic space long before humanity decided to leave the Solar System. There might be a chance they were even older than the moment the first humans discovered fire. The civilisations supposed to be that old were few and far between. Of all the species he had fought against during the Great Crusade, the Eldar were the only xenos civilisation that old, no matter how arrogant these long-ears were.
"Indeed. Although how the topographic studies of the first colonists missed it in the first place can only be attributed to another cloaking technology from these abominations or incredible incompetence." The display at the centre of the room instantly was modified to show Hive Asao and the xenos complex below it. "They must have had far more limited initial resources than the Adeptus Mechanicus but they had STC with complete terraforming data-bases. Perhaps my patrons at Stygies will be able to tell us more once we give them our information."
"I would go with the cloaking explanation, Magos." Wismer respectfully told Desmerius Lankovar. "These xenos are not to be underestimated."
"They are able to imprison a creature like the C'Tan, teleporting through a planetary crust, phasing through walls, annihilating matter with their infantry guns and somehow fitting sixteen thousand trillion lines of codes inside one scarab." The Mechanicus survivor of the clash with the C'Tan said. "Anybody who underestimates these creatures deserves a painful and final death."
No one tried to counter this assertion. One meeting with the metallic xenos was sufficient to recognise the truth.
"And the Nebula's Shard?" The former Dark Angel asked.
"My studies have been able to tell the sword is of Aeldari origin and the scabbard is a Necron design." The eyes of the humans in the room turned to the stasis field containing the object in question. "The Infinite Collector has imprinted an advanced genetic recognition system on it however. Only Major Hebert can draw the sword from its scabbard and use it safely."
By the angry posture of the speaker, several Tech-Priests and servitors must have discovered it the hard way xenos artefacts could and would kill persons who weren't supposed to touch them.
"Swords aren't my weapons of predilection," admitted the Major. "And this Nebula's Shard sounds far too dangerous for my level of swordsmanship. I will let you studying it for the time being."
"Thank you," said in a voice apparently sincere the Explorator. "But you still need lessons to learn fighting at close-quarters and a teacher has just proposed himself..."
Gavreel groaned. He really had to improve his negotiation skills for the next time he would have to bargain with Lankovar.
Vice Admiral Vortigern Von Drenthe the Eighth
From the bridge of the Holy Wind, the world he was watching was giving an expression of serenity. Mining and merchant ships were travelling in neat lines to the shipyards and orbital constructions around Wuhan. Promethium tankers were selling their precious cargo to the Cartels and other mega-corporations dominating the economic life of the Hive World. Warships and trade carracks were leaving their berths to return to their homeworld or sell the goods in their hulks in another system of the Nyx Sector.
The debris of the naval battle between the Great Tithe, the Light of Intolerance and the Anvil of Persecution had been towed to the scrap yards or served as target practises for his gunners. In appearance, it was like the events of the last month had been a bad dream.
If only it was the truth. While on the outside the planet he had in front of his eyes was peaceful, there had been severe upheavals. Production had resumed and the tech-priests had thrown the corpses of many traitors and rebels in their pools of metal in fusion, but the consequences of the Inquisitorial feud would shake Wuhan for decades. The military situation had been resolved rapidly but this meant nothing for the political problems. Any Planetary Governor's demise was bound to create some problems, but the death of Chen Cao had been anything but natural and his successor was not interested in a peaceful transition.
The Vice-Admiral did not usually care about who was ruling a planet – the nobles he had met in his long and distinguished career were useless and interchangeable – but Hongfeng Cao was a really unpleasant bugger and had already begun to confiscate assets of his rivals right and left. The purges of the nobility had not yet started – the Inquisitors had killed a lot of their House leaders – but he had a feeling it would not be long in coming. The dismissal of the PDF Marshal and the hostility of the current Pontifex Mundi were obvious signs supporting this theory.
One day, someone was going to put a dagger – perhaps coated in neurotoxin or another agonising poison - in the new Governor's back and the sooner, the better. It didn't do anything for his current predicament, though.
"So Hongfeng Cao wants a grand ball after all these parades and stupid feasts he ordered." Tradition and circumstances had made certain there would be celebrations, but Vortigern von Drenthe had hoped the colours, the songs and the ceremonies would be at least passable.
It went without saying they had been no such luck and the detachments he had sent walking on the great streets of the capital hive had been rather grumpy and disgusted after the ridiculous manoeuvres they had to present over and over again before an assistance which understood nothing to war.
"He wants a grand masked ball and he insists on your presence, this time," his chief of staff affirmed with a calm and stoicism the cadets of Kar Duniash should really be inspired to imitate. His loyal subordinates had also a lot of practise, unfortunately. Out-of-the-norm demands were the average when you dealt with fat and useless nobles.
"Of course he does." The senior officer of the Imperial Navy in-system shrugged. "Correct me if I say something troubling, but I thought the principle of these events was for everyone to be anonymous. If the Governor's courtesans choose the costumes for everyone..."
He didn't finish the sentence but his subordinate nodded, understanding the meaning. Given the number of spies every Lord-Magnate and the nobles paid to know the secrets of state, every influential aristocrat would know who had received which costume.
"At least we know the Governor's feelings towards your person are not friendly –if the costume he demands you wear is any indication," noted the naval officer.
Vortigern grunted. He had never hidden his dislike of Hongfeng Cao; the fat bugger had been no friend of the Navy and had rubbed him the wrong way. For this fat mass of grease, nothing more mattered than his own rise to power. Guardsmen, nobles, servants and Ecclesiarchy priests: they were all tools to support or bleed in his ascension.
"Show me," he ordered and a data-slate was handed to him. The press of a button materialised an image in the air and for a moment he tried to see what in the name of the Emperor he was seeing. For a second or two, he didn't believe his eyes and closed them in consternation before articulating a few words. "I've seen xenos clothed with far more respectable outfits."
This was the polite version of what he intended to say. Red, gold and a costume looking like these dumb buffoons animating the large throne room of the Cao palace...no doubt Hongfeng Cao thought he was funny.
"Red and gold. Red and gold! Are you sure I can't say a mysterious illness has struck me for tonight?" A Vice-Admiral of His Most Holy Majesty should not speak in a pleading tone, but given the laughs he was going to receive if he went to this ball he felt he had the right to search any excuse to avoid this humiliation.
"I would advise against it, Admiral." The grimace on his subordinate's visage convinced him not to push on this path. "The bugger – pardon, our great and glorious Planetary Governor – has already cancelled the production of the Barbarian-class Interceptors to replace them by the Inferno-class his companies breveted. I would not put it past him to cancel other military contracts you supported by sheer spite."
"What a joyous day," he had known the bad performance at Petersburg, Fay and Harbin of the Interceptors had likely condemned them to an ignoble retirement, but if Wuhan demanded their withdrawal from the battlefields, it was quite likely Nyx would follow their move once they read the officers' reports. "Very well, tell Cao's liaison I will be here."
Some the sacrifices he had to make in the name of the Navy worried him. They didn't teach how to be polite with the civilian morons they were forced to listen to at the Academy.
"Now what is the status of this new squadron the Magos Explorator Desmerius Lankovar is gathering?"
"As we're speaking, this is a very light squadron, Admiral. Aside the cruiser Magos Laurentis serving as his flagship, he has the Gracious Overlord - a Gauntlet-class corvette Fay authorities gave him – one Hippopotamus-class destroyer, two supply ships and one troop transport."
"Plus three Guard regiments the Governor was happy to 'loan' him as long as he remained in the Nyx Sector." Added the Vice-Admiral who to his great sorrow had a few clues his retirement would not come soon.
"Yes, them too," But yes, sounding like this, this was not a huge force when the threat of orcs in the Sector was very much real. "What does the Magos want to do with them?"
"Don't try to guess the intentions of the Tech-Priests," said gravely Vortigern. "There is only madness waiting for you on this road."
"Yes, Admiral."
Major Taylor Hebert
"You aren't serious."
The robe was magnificent, Taylor was forced to admit. When she touched it, the feeling was similar to the silk she had produced with her spiders at Brockton. It had probably a higher price tag than the most expensive fashion shops of Boston or New York, now that she thought about it.
There was no way she could afford to buy this robe with her funds, and it was after she had earned thousands of Throne Gelts for her victories against the orks. It was a Chinese dress –though the name and the origins must have been lost centuries ago. The short sleeves which were supposed to cover her forearms had sapphires – or gemstones looking like the blue-coloured jewels – decorating them. The azure colour of the cloth had dark and gold threads to make it more spectacular. Holding it vertically, the other gemstones and the robe material shone and moved like a slow cascade. On the bad side, the cleavage was almost indecent and the robe's rear would leave half of the back naked.
This was absolutely not the robe a Major of the Imperial Guard should wear. This was the robe of a woman noble, and not a poor one. The upper classes of Brockton like the Major and his friends had not worn such clothes when the Undersiders and she had disturbed their little victory party.
"There must have been a mistake," Weaver said, trying to keep her voice posed. It would not do to show how desperate she was. She had not worn a robe or any really feminine clothes since...forever. With Brockton in ruins, the Endbringer fights, the Slaughterhouse Nine, Lung and Coil, there had been little incitation to improve her image as a teenage girl. The fact her former best friend Emma had liked modelling had just been another incitation not to care about the latest mode trends.
"There is no mistake, Major Hebert," replied the woman who had brought her the azure robe. "His Most Graceful Grace the Governor and his councillors were very clear you were to receive these clothes for the masked ball."
Ah, yes she had almost forgotten the other clothes. First there was the mask. It was black, silver and of course azure, in a mode mixing the Venetian and Chinese models of Earth. Unlike the Venetian masks however, it was covering completely the visage. How her face was going to fit into it while they had not done a moulding of her visage before was a mystery. Still, the mask was the best part. In second came the undergarments and a rapid glance at them was enough to make her cheeks blush a deep red. It seemed the Wuhanese noblewomen conception of lingerie was extremely...bold. The panties and the bras were a shade of blue so light there were almost transparent. And after that came the sandals. Gold and blue with ten centimetres-high heels, these shoes looked terribly uncomfortable and Taylor was sure she was going to break one ankle the moment she had to walk a few steps unaided.
"But," several sentences came to her mind as excuses. 'I don't want the ball invitees to think I'm a prostitute' would have the merit to be honest but might create trouble between the Governor household and her regiment. 'I am an officer of the Guard and would prefer something looking like a uniform' may be less honest but more diplomatic and impossible to prove. In the end, the former supervillain decided to act on some information she had learned during the endless medal ceremonies awards.
"Please forgive me if I made an incorrect assumption, but I thought only the Governors, his relatives and his allies had the right to wear the azure colour."
"Your understanding of our customs is accurate, Major." The small smile on the Wuhanese woman's lips was betraying her amusement.
Oh, by Scion and his Golden Light. Taylor was evidently not a relative of the Governor, there were no blood ties tying her with these pompous nobles. That left the 'ally' status and she was ready to bet her monthly pay this was exactly what the Governor in mind. If she dressed like this, she would tell the audience of the ball that she had struck a deal with the highest authority of Wuhan.
With this realisation, her regard on the Wuhanese woman in front of her changed and it did not take long to arrive to the logical conclusion.
"You're not a helper for the robes, aren't you? You're an emissary."
"Well-reasoned, Major," There was a hint of compliment and the noblewoman bowed slightly. As she inclined her head, the colour of her hairs was slightly altered and so were the traits of her visage. Instead of the previous shade of brown, the elaborate hairdressing was showing blue-black hairs. There had been a minor scar and two spots on her cheeks seconds before; now these imperfections had disappeared like they had never existed. Deep inside, she had to admit this was a very impressive cosmetic technology there...perfect for spies and assassins.
"I am indeed an emissary. My name is Wei Cao, Governor Hongfeng Cao's second daughter. I come bearing an offer from my father in his title of ruler of Hive Cao-Lai."
Yep, Taylor really didn't like where this was going. She had done best to stay away from politics when she was in the Fay System, and what she had seen here in the Wuhanese Hives had not been of a nature to change her mind. She didn't know how convincing she looked – she suspected the answer was 'not very' – but the former supervillain feigned ignorance.
"Should not a negotiation like this go through Colonel Larkine first?" She demanded in a reasonable voice.
Wei Cao golden eyes pierced her like they could see her very thoughts.
"Please, Major. The Colonel is a good officer, but his skills when it is time to purge the xenos and the traitors are far less useful than yours. Did you think the Governor's loyal agents were so blind they wouldn't be able to report your formidable insect-manipulation powers inside one of our own Hive? Magos Explorator Lankovar was able to disable and collect the information reported by machine-spirits, but you were in one of the greatest Hives of Wuhan. Once communications were re-established after this dreadful coup, the Governor security's services had thousands of agents as witnesses...discovering the truth wasn't that difficult."
Well, the notion of keeping a low profile died there. Taylor hadn't been exactly an anonymous figure of course before – being the second-in-command of a Guard regiment was a visible military assignment – but it was not the same thing. That said, until now she had not seen her image projected on every hololith and projector the Wuhanese used for the news and their information-propaganda services.
"My parahuman powers aren't illegal under Imperial law since they aren't Warp-based in nature," she defended herself to the older woman before sitting on a cushioned seat. Wei Cao looked like a twenty-five year-old or so but with the rejuvenation process available to the nobility, it was impossible to guess her real age. "The dissimulation was done to avoid...disagreements with the Inquisition and certain factions."
"And you were right to do so," agreed Wei. The Wuhanese imitated her and seated on the other seat of the room. Now that she examined her in detail, Taylor saw that she was half a head taller than her but discreet grey-white heels had compensated the difference.
Wei Cao was slim and had the body of a model. Not for her the muscles Taylor and the rest of the Guardswomen had strengthened in hundreds of hours of physical exercise. It did not mean she was not dangerous of course: just with two bugs and her own eyes, the parahuman could tell three of her nails on each hand were hollow and filled with unknown substances, the innocent stick in the black-blue hairs had a core of metal – certainly a short blade – and the earrings in black colour were emitting suspect vibrations which had nothing to do with vox-communications.
"Pontifex Mundi Jasonius is not a tolerant man; it was not a mistake for him to support a pretender-Inquisitor from Gathalamor. But his influence after the assassination of Governor Chen Cao has collapsed and his hateful sermons in the aftermath of the victory have made him a very unpopular figure. He's getting desperate and at least six of his subordinates are plotting to replace him."
"And you think that if I walk in an azure dress he is going to lose his wits?"
"Oh, no," the smile of the Cao woman was somewhat frightening. It reminded her of the crocodile-like Tarellians she had killed in Hive Asao. "He has already lost whatever intelligence he had in his skull and hired several assassins for tonight. They have orders to kill everyone wearing azure."
"And an assassination attempt against an officer of the Imperial guard is a capital crime." Weaver finished, half-impressed by the simplicity of the scheme and half-disgusted by how low the rulers of this Hive World were ready to sink in the name of their ridiculous feuds. After several days on Wuhan, she was thinking she had been lucky to arrive on Fay; the Governor there had been an incompetent figure, but the main enemies had been the orks and these greenskins weren't the type of stabbing you in the back.
Had the C'Tan managed to defeat Trazyn and ravage this world, would they have united against the alien threat or continued their petty bickering until Iash'uddra drowned them in a metallic tide? Weaver was ready to bet on the latter. Supervillains of Brockton Bay were sometimes ready to call for truces when bigger threats were around, but the nobles of Wuhan didn't seem to understand the concept.
"Why should I disguise myself and risk my life for the Governor's plan? Whether it works or not, the result will be the same for the Fay 20th. Now that I think about it, it's better for me to stay outside politics. When the Guard regiments will leave Wuhan, the Ecclesiarchy and your enemies will forget us. We are no threat to them."
"You underestimate how vengeful the Pontifex and his cronies can be for the smallest slights, I think." Wei Cao stood to seize something next to the cart she had used to transport several robe-holders and the accessories. Once she sat again, the Wuhanese noblewoman had three scrolls of what looked to be old-fashioned parchment in her impeccably manicured hands.
Then she handed the one with green ribbons to Taylor. The bug-controller opened it and read the text. It was full of aggrandising expressions proclaiming how generous the Governor Hongfeng Cao was, but the message underneath was not difficult to understand.
"The Governor promises to re-equip our regiment?" Some incredulity must have transpired in her question because Wei raised an eyebrow with an approving expression. "Does he realise how under-mechanised we are?"
By all rights, the Fay 20th should have fielded about two hundred Chimeras for its ten companies, but between the disastrous losses against the orks and the administrating duties left by the fall of Boris Byukur, they had only been able to take forty Chimeras with them and forty-five Sentinels. The rest of the engines were overwhelmingly consisting of Tauros and these light cars were for rapid assaults, not entrenched enemies. In the first minutes of the attack of the Hive, they had proven...useless to crush entrenched fanatics.
"According to General Yu, you need about a hundred and eighty Chimeras, sixty Sentinels plus the usual repairing and supply vehicles." Wei commented like if it was the most natural thing of the world. "A brand-new Chimera is worth two million Thrones, a Sentinel a quarter of a million. Once the support vehicles are added, the bill will be around four hundred million Throne Gelts. It is pocket change for any Lord-Magnate, never mind my father."
And here she thought the award of a quarter of a million she had been granted after the two battles of Ramev's Pass was a big amount of gold...these people were so rich they must have forgotten the value of money generations ago.
"And you are ready to offer this if I wear this dress and go to the masked ball?" Either she had missed something or these nobles were completely crazy. "It sounds too good to be true."
"Don't forget the risks of assassination," reminded her politely the daughter of House Cao. "But yes, this is indeed the deal." Three seconds passed before the noblewoman admitted in a whisper the reason of this unexplainable generosity. "The Pontifex is under investigation by his own superiors and it is quite likely Wuhan will be able to recover a few of the trillions he has misappropriated and hidden in his secret accounts."
Fine, the Governor was not generous at all; he was just convinced he was going to grab a bigger amount of money than the millions which would go in military spending. And Taylor was not naive: the move was going to be advertised and broadcasted all over the planet. In the news it would probably be presented as an impressive gesture from the new governor; he provided superior weapons to the soldiers who had at the price of hundreds lives put an end to the Inquisitors-pretenders' threat.
In a way it didn't matter. The nobles were greedy and amoral and it was just an ugly reality that wouldn't be changed next morning. Even if she killed every aristocrat in this Hive, there was no doubt others would take their place. Refusing the deal would just send her regiment in battle on another battlefield where they would lack adequate armour and heavy weapons. In the end, was her will to avoid politics stronger than the lives of the men and women following her orders?
She watched the antique red Governor's sea for a few seconds before taking her decision.
"I accept," the young parahuman affirmed, trying not to sigh.
"A wise decision," to her credit, Wei Cao did not gloat or showed a pompous expression after her agreement.
But she has still two other scrolls in her hands. This meant two other bargains, one with azure and the other with red ribbons.
"What information is in those two?"
Wei licked her lips, but it had nothing predatory or joyful. Instead, she appeared embarrassed.
"This document, should you accept, would confer you the rank of General..."
"I pass." No way was she going to accept this deal. She had already difficulties coping with the difficulties of a second-in-command in a Guard regiment; if she hadn't had her insects to improve her communication and command skills, the previous battles would have been costly defeats she was sure. Becoming a Colonel was over her capabilities; a title of General would be completely wasted on her.
"This is a great honour."
"I'm sure it is," Weaver acknowledged. "Do I want to pay the price the Governor fixed for this commission?"
The Governor's emissary opened fast her mouth but the 'yes' did not come when their eyes met. Yes, that was what she had been thinking. Moreover, the military rank proposed would probably be one of PDF General, not a Guard General. The Governor of Wuhan could do what he wanted with the hierarchy of his armed forces – provided said armies enforced the Imperium rule over Wuhan, it went without saying. But his influence over the Guard promotions was not that absolute and the headquarters of the Sector were at Nyx, not on Wuhan.
"Your decision is regrettable and disappointing." The small pout did not cause Taylor much guilt. The scroll with red ribbons was set aside. This left the scroll in the colours of the Governor's House.
"And the third proposal is?"
This time Wei Cao looked distinctly ill-at-ease.
"A marriage."
"No."
The word had burst out her mouth. Taylor had not taken the time to think. She was sixteen and there was no way she was going to say 'yes' to someone right now. She was too young and no desire to be married to a noble who would try to manipulate, poison or deceive her the moment they exchanged ring on the altar.
"You did not even listen to the full proposal," the Wuhanese woman appeared hurt by her curt refusal. Taylor wasn't able to say if the sadness on her pale visage was feigned or not.
"I don't need to," Weaver replied. "I have no intention to marry anyone this year, and even if I did it wouldn't be for politics or another advantage given by your Governor."
An emotion she wasn't able to decipher passed on Wei Cao's face before disappearing as quickly as it had emerged. With a grace and elegance Taylor knew she had never had in her, the noblewoman stood up and opened another case on the chariot and drew out another robe, one which was a combination of red and azure on the same model as the one she was supposed to wear.
"Very well, but remember the proposition is still valid should you change your mind."
It was a polite affirmation, but it was the way Wei Cao placed the other robe next to hers' that was important. There was no pleading, but despite her limited knowledge of dresses and style, Taylor was able to see the two robes really complimented each other well.
"The proposition of marriage was for you and me, isn't it?" The survivor of Earth Bet demanded.
"I am one of five possible candidates," admitted Wei. "My father wasn't sure if you preferred men or women."
Taylor tried not to blush...a doomed enterprise from the start. She had really not imagined her sexual preferences would be a topic today and she was always uncomfortable when the subject arrived in the conversation. Truly, what was there to discuss? She was not pretty, she was too tall, and she had no breasts to speak of. The people who were interested in her were attracted by her powers, not by her body. And she preferred boys.
Somehow, the bug-controller still felt the need to activate her powers and bleed her emotions into the nearby razorbeetles when Wei Cao stripped of her white-grey attire with no sense of modesty whatsoever. Fortunately, the Wuhanese noble jumped into her ball gown with an unnatural speed and her naked body was soon no longer visible...though the red-azure cloth nicely supported all the right curves.
With an effort of will, Taylor pushed away these thoughts, startled how she had stared at the Wuhanese and praying that Wei had not seen it. By the amused look she was sent, this was not the case.
"Your turn," said the noble once she had added to her set a new pair of earrings, a sort of butterfly in her hair and a silver pair of high heels. Only the mask remained on the bed.
Taylor swallowed deeply before removing her uniform and donning the new undergarments as fast as she could. Then came the turn of the robe, which was thankfully easy to wear. Jewellery in form of rings, earrings and a golden necklace with a big blue gemstone were added. In a few seconds, it was over...but the harshest difficulty was yet to come: her undisciplined long hairs were to be done in the Wuhanese fashion, and unavoidably it took several minutes of suffering and various substances which made her hairs get a shade of dark black-blue.
"Is this marriage a good thing for you anyway?" The parahuman wondered out loud as her hairs took a flawless appearance, one they had never been given before. "I have...my skills but I am just a Major of the Imperial Guard and while I have a few thousand Throne Gelts in my account, my fortune is nothing compared to the one of your House."
"I am the second daughter of the Governor, fifth in the order of succession," explained Wei as she put the final adjustments on Taylor's hairs. There was no condemnation in her tone, but there was no joy either. "The fortune you are speaking of is indeed my House...but it is not mine by rights and never will be. My eldest sister Zhi will inherit the Governorship should a traditional succession transition take place after the Governor's death and three of my brothers come before me too."
Given the horrors and the disappearances which were rumoured to have happened after the previous Governor's death, it was not hard to see why the noblewoman was less than enthusiastic at this outcome.
"And how exactly this marriage is supposed to change this?" The rebranded supervillain felt curious. "Officers of His Most Holy Majesty are neither renowned for their wealth nor their long life expectancies."
"My father in his persona of majority shareholder of the Wuhan-Cao Cartel told us that the one who married you would earn one per-cent of the total shares."
The hair-dressing was over and they stood up. Taylor grimaced as the unfamiliar shape of the high heels took its toll on her feet and ankles. Wei handed her the multi-coloured mask in one hand while taking a gold-red-azure one to hide her identity away.
"It must be a lot of Throne Gelts," she remarked. One per-cent was a small number, but they were speaking of the biggest Wuhanese Cartel – or mega-corporation or gigantic industrial group depending on whatever you wanted to name it – and the diverse revenues had to be in the billions.
In her thoughts though, she cursed the Governor to play these little games on her back. Wei had said 'us' which meant they were others who were going to harass her in the hope of gaining the jackpot. Really and people wondered why the soldiers hated politics.
"In the last Terran year, owning a one per-cent share of the Wuhan-Cao Cartel granted you an income of eight hundred sixty-seven billion Throne Gelts per T-month."
Weaver stared open-mouthed for a good fifteen seconds before closing her mouth. At least her opinion these nobles were utterly and completely crazy had just been verified.
"My answer stays the same." The Major of the Fay 20th said. "I am not interested in marrying anyone."
Taylor placed the mask against her visage and to her surprise, the material softly fitted like a second skin, caressing her forehead, cheeks and jaw, and proving very comfortable to breathe through. Next to her, the daughter of the Governor imitated her, and the effect was impressive seen from the outside. The mask's features showed someone completely different and with a far more dignified visage. If someone recognised you under this mask, it was because they knew who you were from the beginning.
"In this case, may I ask for a place on your staff?" The question came as she opened the door and began to walk in the corridor. Wow, the noblewoman was really eager to get out of the crossfire, wasn't she?
"I have already the women and men I need," Taylor answered as they passed under lustres of crystal, contemplated ugly paintings of the former Wuhan Governors and other indecent decorations. The walk was slow, because the heels at her feet were pure murder. "And my subordinates are expected to fight like any guardsman or guardswoman if the circumstances are dire enough."
Wei Cao had been until now polite, so Taylor didn't tell her loudly how dangerous it would be for someone like her to be on the frontlines. Iash'uddra had proven beyond doubt that sometimes experiences guardsmen were massacred by the kind of threats lurking in the shadows of this galaxy. Wei Cao had no parahuman powers, and while she had likely poison in her false nails for self-defence, the effect against an ork in a hand-to-hand battle was going to result in her death.
"I realise my military credentials are poor compared to the rest of your staff, but my financial and negotiating abilities would certainly able to compensate."
That was a good point, actually. The real question was if she and the rest of the regiment could trust any sentence coming out of the Wuhanese mouth...and the answer was probably not. A few women of the 2nd Company had told her how marriages between nobles were market transactions, and Wei Cao wanted more money and more power. It was not exactly a good combination for creating trust and honesty between them.
"I will think about it." She said in a hurry as a man silently walked behind them. Too bad for him, the moment he had moved in her direction, the razorbeetles she had left behind had informed her of his suspect behaviour. And damn, this was a very weird dagger he had underneath his cloak.
"Please give me a chance, Major."
The assassin was two metres away from stabbing her hostess in the neck when the white razorbeetle tore his throat apart. The would-be assassin collapsed with an uncomprehending look on his face, his dagger falling and creating a deafened clang on the great carpet covering the floor.
"Survive the ball without my help, and I will consider it." The Major told the potential new recruit, who had paled considerably seeing the corpse.
Colonel Daviev Larkine
When the nobles said 'ball', the definition was really not the same employed by normal humans. Merchants, soldiers and common civilians would take it as an opportunity to develop their network of allies, improve their businesses or generally meet new people. Nobles, on the other hand, seemed to generally take it as an opportunity to practise the worst excesses humanity was capable of. The murders of their rivals by poison or exotic weapons seemed to come first, but the crowd of fat and inbred aristocrats was also fond of gorging itself of delicate food for hours. Hundreds of men and women – some barely deserving the name such were the ravages of augmentation and genetic surgery on their body – were drowning their sorrows and their triumphs in the very expensive alcoholic beverages. As for the rest of their behaviour, the less said about it. 'Orgy' and 'debauchery' were underwhelming words which were not describing accurately how low the nobility of Wuhan had sunken.
It was difficult to say which event had been the worse in this festival of depravation. Had it been the arrival of the governor in the ballroom, the small noble making his grand entrance on a horrid three meters-tall blue-green throne towed by naked young men? Maybe, though they had been other awful scenes. The local leader of His Most Holy Majesty's Church being dragged away by a company of guards after someone had poured boiling syrup on his face deserved a mention. A cousin of a Lord-Magnate had been drowned in a tank-sized recipient full of cream and sweets. Two of the Governor's children had never arrived to the gathering, and there were whispers spreading they had tragically fallen down the marble stairs.
"How many regiments do you think we could have equipped and trained with the budget of this ball?" The Colonel asked to his company officers around him.
In other circumstances, he would have whispered from the balcony he and the commanders of his regiment were staying, but given the ruckus the nobles were causing next and below them, the chances of being heard tonight and arrested for a crime of lese-majesty were not high. Dozens of obese old men were shouting for more food and drinks when they were dining on tables of gold and marble.
"A minimum of ten, I believe," answered Captain Steph Urskovoy of 1st Company. The other Captains nodded or grunted in agreement. "We heard from Major Hebert how they were ready to pay for the engines we needed just because they wanted us to wear these costumes...these people are not spending like us, Colonel."
Larkine nodded, before throwing a glance at his second-in-command who was in deep conversation with Magos Lankovar. The young woman had removed the heels she had arrived with and replaced them with a pair of boots once the Lieutenant serving as her chief of staff had brought new shoes for the women of the regiment. Coats and other clothes had also been added over their dresses. The organisers of this ball may have given the officers conservative robes by their standards, but this didn't mean much when the noblemen and noblewomen were half-naked.
"Have you seen what they did to the Tarellians and the rest of the Inquisitorial survivors? These people are nothing like us," grunted Captain Milolav Firov of 9th Company. The mood went darker after this sentence. Guard officers were generally not what one could call friends of xenos and traitors, but the summary executions of xenos and men who had surrendered in good faith was leaving a bad taste. The Inquisitors had given the orders; the Penal soldiers had obeyed and free will was not in play when you had an explosive device around your neck.
But since the stealing menace self-styling itself the Infinite Collector had spirited the Inquisitors away, the nobility had decided crucifying and burning alive the prisoners of war was entertaining. Many of the Fay Guardsmen had escaped to vomit their stomach's content in the toilets after these 'celebrations'.
"The sooner we leave this madhouse, the better it will be for our regiment's sanity...absolute power corrupts absolutely."
Daviev didn't know who had spoken, but he found himself in agreement. Why Magos Lankovar had manifested the desire to travel to the Andes System was still a mystery, but it was definitely less dangerous than staying with these inbred parasites. With a little luck, the nobles would mutually kill each other before their eventual return...it was not forbidden to dream.