**Author's note: Minor content warning for an evil Chaos Marine saying evil Chaos Marine things. Also, this chapter was accidentally deleted for a short time before I reuploaded it. Apologies for any confusion! Edit: 7/22/23: It has been brought to my attention that the file for chapter 108 had some of its formatting mysteriously cleared which made it difficult to read. That problem has now been fixed.**
"Ladies and gentlemen, we continue to report on the desperate situation in the city of Evna for you. While we do not have confirmation on the party responsible for the terror attacks, we will continue to report as much as we can in the sudden absence of Sinclair News Network. Once again, the hated Sinclair name is mired in controversy and danger, but fear not, dear viewers, for we of the People's Army of Justice of downtown Immense City will endeavor to bring you all the objective reporting we can concerning these catastrophic Evian events. Stay tuned for more breaking news," the masked news anchorwoman reported from the display.
Throne Agent Claudine Greyweaver of Ordo Hereticus sighed in irritation at the news as she picked at the plate of dumplings that sat before her at her table. The whole situation down on Tar Vigaz sounded like a bog-standard rebel insurrection complete with disruptive terror attacks in the capitol city to sow confusion. This would definitely make her assignment more difficult, she contemplated with frustration. Maybe the governor was actually dead now, and she had been sent all the way out here for nothing? That would certainly be a disappointment.
Claudine sat at her table in the posh first class lounge of Spaceport Evoldo as it orbited above the world of Tar Vigaz. The Throne Agent was a shorter, muscular woman with bronze skin and jaw length straight black hair. Her bionic eyes were dark, harsh, and watchful as she kept a close eye on her surroundings in the first class lounge. Claudine was not attired in her proper Inquisitorial uniform, but was dressed as a mere wealthy tourist wearing a smart black suit with tall boots. Her rosette was hidden inside her jacket pocket. Sometimes, the small metal object held a peculiar comforting warmth when she was experiencing a heightened emotional state. As a Theta ranked psyker specializing in telepathic surveillance, manipulation, and interrogation, she was very sensitive, and strange warmth would often ripple from her body when she was upset. The Throne Agent reminded herself to be professional, and kept herself well under control most of the time.
Spaceport Evoldo was a public port catering to the wealthy travelers who could pay the exorbitant docking fees. It contained high-priced shops, restaurants, and even a few hotels along with serving as a place of disembarkment for Warp-capable vessels unsuitable for atmosphere flight. While not specifically private like Spaceport Alpha, this port was quite opulent, and often hosted passing important Imperial dignitaries through their business or pleasure. Very wealthy yachts, ornate trading ships carrying luxury goods, and other large personal Warp-capable craft would park here before taking a shuttle down to one of the massive megacities below.
The Throne Agent, along with the other wealthy individuals visiting this lounge, was watching a flickering pirate media broadcast on a central display screen mounted to the rear wall of the expensive space. It was quite crowded in here due to the outbreak of violence in the capitol city within the past few hours. Many travelers had decided to wait in the terminal before deciding to fly their shuttles down to the world below, concerned by the situation in Evna. The pirate broadcast that was being broadcast originated from the whimsically named population center of "Immense City", Tar Vigaz's second largest megopolis. Manned entirely by masked freedom-fighters (who conveniently disavowed any knowledge of any terror attacks), the broadcast filled the hole left by Sinclair News Network's sudden disappearance. SNN was the dominant state-run media on this world, and as of a few hours ago, it had mysteriously gone dark after a final desperate report by a bedraggled anchorman proclaiming that Lord Justinian Sinclair had been kidnapped by xenos pirates with leering smiles, pointed ears, and jagged dark armors.
Hearing this, Claudine unfortunately had her confirmation on the likely identity of the media mogul's kidnappers, and she said a quick prayer that the aliens that had stolen Justinian away would kill him quickly. Despite her knowledge, she said nothing of this to the people in her company, and she continued to silently watch the broadcast as she watched her surroundings. The Throne Agent was here on a very specific assignment, and she did not want anyone to prematurely discover her identity as she waited for the rest of her team to arrive. They were late, which was upsetting.
Claudine was an exceedingly ambitious young acolyte of Ordo Hereticus, and she had been ordered to visit this remote world on a very secret assignment rumored to have been personally initiated by one of the High Lords of Terra. What she was investigating was all very confidential, and truth be told, the more mysterious assignments were very exciting. Perhaps she would finally be promoted to the rank of full Inquisitor soon? All these years working under Inquisitor Lord Ariaz were about to pay off, she just knew! Her promotion was certainly long overdue considering the amount of effort she always put into her work.
The Throne Agent had come here under an assumed name as a passenger on a luxury merchant ship. She was told that the rest of her team, along with Lord Ariaz, would be meeting her at this designated port. For about six weeks now, Claudine had patiently waited and psychically watched the wealthy and powerful of this world as they passed through this busy terminal. The Throne Agent was here on a sort of reconnaissance mission, and had been instructed to simply observe her surroundings before the rest of her force arrived on the Reasonable Solution, their cruiser. If through some disaster they did not arrive, the merchant ship she came in on would not be leaving for another month, so Claudine wouldn't be stranded. It was certainly irritating to be kept waiting.
The assignment here was slightly unusual, from what she had been told. One of the High Lords wanted this independent frontier world and its planetary governor visited on a so-called surprise "diplomatic" mission from the Imperium. From what little information the Throne Agent had been given so far, the eccentric governor Lady Langwidere had been under close observation for many years by a trusted Imperial source. All was well for a time, and this source faithfully delivered reports concerning the governor and her world back to the Imperium. Recently, these regular reports had ceased, which caused great concern. Mars appeared particularly interested in this assignment for some reason, and as such, Claudine had been informed that the Reasonable Solution held a sizeable contingent of Skitarii, Tech-priests, and numerous servitors as it traveled to this remote world. This only served to make the assignment even more intriguing, which excited the Throne Agent greatly.
As she waited for the Reasonable Solution to arrive, the young Throne Agent had been instructed to psychically observe the traffic within the port ahead of the Inquisitor Lord's arrival. Claudine passively skimmed through the surface thoughts of thousands, secretly searching for any overt heresy with her gentle telepathic touch. She was to note anything of interest in a journal, but not act upon it unless in a dire situation. Tar Vigaz claimed to be an independent world that existed beyond the Imperium's formal reach, but that wasn't quite true if she was here and spying on the thoughts of the locals, Claudine thought with a smug smile. The Throne Agent continued to grin as she quietly invaded the mind of a passing well-dressed nobleman departing the lounge. She quickly discovered that this jolly plump fellow traded in young boys to deliver to degenerate Imperial hosts elsewhere in the galaxy. Truth be told, most of what she sensed here was distasteful, but not immediately heretical. The Throne Agent had been ordered to simply watch this port as she waited, not to act if she could help it. And, if she did well, surely a promotion would be offered to her soon. Claudine's psychic observational skills were effective and just, she thought indulgently as the fat child trafficker tugged on the arm of a frightened kidnapped young boy that he called his "son".
A distant repeating alarm began to sound outside the lounge and through the terminal. Two men in military clothes ran past the lounge in a hurry. The Throne Agent overheard someone discussing the defensive minefield above the terminal in hushed tones.
Not hearing much of interest, Claudine instead continued to watch the pirate news broadcast in the lounge. "We're now getting reports of widespread power outages due to solar irregularities plaguing Evna, Seedonia, and parts of Immense City. Sinclair News Network remains offline, so stay tuned as we-"
The masked anchorwoman was handed a sheet of paper from somewhere off screen, and as she read it, she placed a hand up to her face in a gesture of shock. "Ladies and gentlemen, as you know, we've been reporting on the desperate situation in Evna for the last many hours. While we do not have confirmation on the party responsible for the terror attacks, we will continue to report as much as we can in the absence of Sinclair News Network. But, we've now received news that there have been reports of irregularities in the defensive minefield above. On top of this, I-" the anchorwoman paused again, her eyes clearly displaying the emotion of shock. She turned to glance at someone off camera, and quietly asked. "This can't be true, can it? Do we have clips?"
The Throne Agent blanched in her seat as a wave of dread passed over her. This sort of icy existential fear had often gripped her in the proximity of Chaos or extreme danger. Her hand went to her rosette within her jacket as she covertly began to study the people in the lounge.
"Dear viewers of Tar Vigaz and the greater Conglomeration of Ev, what we're about to show you may shock and upset. Please turn young children and those with sensitive constitutions away from your screen. We are now receiving reports that the Statue of Libertine outside of Evna has... it has apparently come alive! We have footage of this ongoing event, but be warned, what you see may shock you!"
The display flickered, and now, it displayed what appeared to be a titanic gold-skinned statue of a crowned woman with three very daemonic arms, and a massive red sword! The statue licked its lips, and the camera panned back to display the city of Evna, demonstrating that the entity was standing right outside the city! Claudine was horrorstruck! While she wasn't specifically a daemonhunter, she had knowledge of notable daemonic incursions. Seeing what appeared to be a daemonically-possessed giant statue, the Throne Agent instantly judged this world to be in terrible danger, if not lost already! They weren't equipped to handle something like this; it was so much worse than anything she could have assumed! The story of Amnaich the Golden and the greater daemon's similarly possessed statues in the Golwyn Belt was a common study of the insidious nature of Chaotic corruption, and now, another daemon had enacted a similar plot, and it had apparently succeeded! They needed to call Malleus as soon as possible!
"Quite dreadful, isn't it?" a deep voice of black velvet sounded beside the Throne Agent, momentarily spooking her. Somehow, she had missed a very (and suspiciously) large man seated by himself at the lounge table beside her. He was attired in grey robes, and had long black hair, tanned skin, and amber eyes that twinkled mischievously as he held a small teacup daintily in his large black leather gloves. Next to him, a thin pale man with wild eyes and sparse light brown hair sat watchfully. He was wearing a long black leather coat and what appeared to be a wide collar around his neck as he glanced nervously about. These rich people and their kinks, Claudine thought with disdain.
Claudia turned away from the suspiciously large individual, and her psychic senses again began to grip her in worry as she continued to watch the broadcast of the corrupt walking statue. What on Terra was that thing, she angrily and loudly thought in outrage. What sort of monstrous heresy are these people involved with, and how has it gone unchecked for so long? And, where were her people? They're late!
"The Family of Liberty was responsible for that little problem, you know," the stranger quietly offered in a silky deep voice as he pointed at the display while sipping his tea. "They're a Chaos cult. Slaanesh-flavored. They should not have been ignored and unmanaged in their corruption by the Evian authorities for this long, but with the madness and ill-repute of the governor, I suppose that is understandable."
Above the statue, a very large gold eagle (which the Throne Agent assumed was some sort of decorative flying vessel) then appeared in the sky, and the statue seemed to be speaking to it. The entire lounge gasped as the statue abruptly struck at the eagle with her blazing red sword! The stranger kept his unnerving attention fixed on the Throne Agent, and he then lowered his voice to a near whisper. "And this eagle, you see, is piloted by a new hope for humankind. A woman of heavenly power who came from beyond the stars and even the Warp itself. Perhaps you, being who you work for, you already know of her?"
That was enough to suitably alarm Claudine away from watching the broadcast, and she turned toward the stranger.
"Who are you?" the young Throne Agent asked seriously, and narrowed her perceptive bionic eyes. Something was "off" about this man, but she could not figure out what it immediately was. The rosette hidden in her jacket began to glow colder. Was this man an Astartes? At the very least, his lack of mutation seemed to suggest that he wasn't Chaotic in his alignment, but renegade marines were still very dangerous. "Do I know you?"
"No. We've not yet been acquainted. I'm just a former concerned citizen of Evna looking to make a few friends, my dear lady," he rumbled. "My name is Harry Smith, and I collect books and see things that aren't usually seen. This is my assistant, Veeya." The man gestured to the nervous individual twitching beside him. Veeya grunted as he began scratching at the collar around his neck. "A little bird told me that the situation is more dire than it seems even here."
"And why would that be?" Claudine asked. This man seemed to imply that he who she worked for, and now, the Throne Agent was growing concerned that her cover had been somehow blown.
"You see, daemonic statues aren't the only problem Tar Vigaz has," Harry replied as he rummaged in a large canvas sack beside him. The unsettling giant removed a large blue book, and he opened it. Unfortunately, his large gloved hands covered the title, and it could not be seen. After a few moments of reading, Harry then made an affirmative noise of confirmation at what he was reading, and closed the book again. "There is a massive fleet of xenos that has recently arrived in system. Necrons. They're in high orbit on the other side of the world, but very soon, they'll be visible in this location. These aliens have come so quickly that only a few people on this world know about them. But, I do, of course. Very soon, they'll be here, and this port will descend into glorious chaos at the revelation!"
Three more men in military uniforms raced down the corridor of the terminal, and the alarm still dimly chimed.
"How do you know all of this?" the Throne Agent inquired, now overwhelmed with suspicion. As she clutched at her rosette inside her jacket pocket for security, Claudine began to reach out with her telepathic strengths to discern who exactly this giant "Harry Smith" was, skimming his surface thoughts to understand what this man knew. Since they were in a public place, and she was confident of her psychic interrogation skills after a decade on the job, she was self-assured that her highly honed abilities could give her a general assessment on who this unusual suspected Astartes was, and his motives.
She blinked, and then, her landscape changed. Throne Agent Claudine found herself standing before a perfectly calm pool filled with what appeared to be icy black water. This must be his mind, she concluded. Most people set up barriers between themselves and outside influences, but it appeared that this individual was wide open, his intentions manifesting themselves as a calm black pool. Fool.
Claudine grinned as she walked forward inside the mind of what she now knew as an Astartes. This would be easy, she thought. Due to their mental conditioning, many Space Marines were actually paradoxically easier to dominate than typical humans if you knew what parts of their souls to invade. The only Astartes she had ever been intimidated away from interrogating were those slavering mutated animals aligned with Chaos.
She gazed over the black pool, and before her, she saw images of battles of brave Space Marines in red armor fighting xenos, reading books, and laughing with children in fields of flowers. Good. Claudine quickly concluded that she was dealing with a repentant renegade marine. It appeared that he was a psyker, but undisciplined enough to allow her this access into his thoughts. Of course, he would eventually need to be interrogated and later exterminated when the Reasonable Solution arrived, but perhaps he could prove useful to their investigation with a little mental coercion? A bodyguard would be nice in these dangerous times.
Distantly, she felt her hand relax back in the conscious world, and someone whispered, "I've got it, master!"
Wait, what was-
The images of laughing children immediately transmuted into vicious gibbering daemons in the pool, and they reached for her with long black claws! Claudine reflexively withdrew her mind from the water, and went to summon the power of her rosette against the hidden devotee of Chaos, but she then perceived that her pocket had been cut, and her rosette had been stolen!
It was then that a long black tentacle emerged from the black pool of horrors, and it swiftly wrapped itself around the the Throne Agent with the strength of a constricting serpent! She could no longer speak or even breathe!
"I wouldn't fight, little Inquisitor girl." A dark voice lashed through her mind, and Claudine felt tendrils of fetid corruption attempt to reach through her very being! She struggled! "I was telling the truth before you so rudely attempted to break into my mind. And just so you know, I really do enjoy books and killing aliens with my Brothers, but the whole thing with the field of flowers was just some grox shit that I made up for fun. Now, what to do with you? Fancy going for a swim?"
Claudine was effortlessly picked up by the black tentacle, and plunged into the dark, icy pool!
The Throne Agent was assailed with images of Chaos Marines in spiked red armor aggressively preaching to frightened masses of scarred and filthy nude human slaves as they were forced to praise Chaos for their lives! The strange man with the long black hair was there, and he now stood before her in his corrupted power armor wearing a wicked smirk on his disarmingly handsome face. "You now witness a touching memory of my past, little memory thief. I was certainly an ignorant foolish lad after the second Black Crusade, but now, fear not, for I have seen the light!"
Her mind screamed as her mental defenses began to crumble in the dark water, but then, she found herself lifted up and out of the black fluid. She was being held motionless before the Chaos Marine, who now stood beside the pool in the same red power armor she had seen earlier. Quickly, she studied what she had seen, and soon the Throne Agent was able to recognize the heraldry of the Word Bearer legion of traitor marines! Likely effortlessly hearing this thought, the devil before her grinned happily, and said, "Despite what you may presume about my legion, I'm not an unreasonable combat-mad beast, nor am I a mindless daemon-fellating evangelist of Chaos. In fact, I've mainly retired from the whole 'Chaos Marine' life, for I have now basked in the divine presence of the new god of humanity, and I find myself reborn!"
"What... do... you... want...?" Claudia was able to choke out in the vice grip of the tentacle.
"My want is simple! What I want is to live so that I can bring the word of the salvation of the Star Child to the galaxy. That's what I want. Wouldn't you want humanity to see a new and glorious dawn? A living god walking among you instead of a rotting corpse, leading humanity to a brave new future? A being worthy of worship instead of the desiccated screaming husk on Terra?"
When she did not respond to this blatant heresy immediately, Harry plunged her back into the vile black pool. This time, the visions that she received were of herself laughing as she mercilessly gunned down Inquisitor Lord Ariaz in cruel madness while in the middle of a battlefield of cavorting daemons! Her dying mentor asked her, "Why?" and all she could do was laugh! This wasn't true! This never happened!
"Yes, but it could happen if you're a good girl, and you serve me well! Maybe we could pay your old mentor a visit later?" the Word Bearer chuckled into her mind as she witnessed racing daemons brutally murdering people that suspiciously resembled her family on the battlefield. Her mentor remained bleeding and pleading at her feet, and she continued to laugh at his suffering. "Ah, yes! I see now! You suffer resentment! I can see into your mind that you grate under your mentor's tutelage, and that he still has yet to promote you after many years of loyal service! For shame! But, today is your lucky day, as fate has turned a corner for you, Claudine!"
Harry brought her back up again out of the black pool, and Claudine couldn't help but scream now! "What... what...?!" she cried out!
"I understand that it might be hard to concentrate after that, so I'll be reasonable and patient with my wants here, little girl. I want off of this port, and away from this system. You will walk my Brothers and I onto the merchant ship you came in from, and assist us in hijacking it. I know that their crew is currently on board conducting a drill, so now is an excellent time to conduct such an endeavor. You will also come with me on my travels, and learn about your future as a human under the love and light of the glorious new Dark Queen that is currently rising. You will address me as 'Cardinal', and you will defer to me in all things. In return, I will become your new mentor. Do you understand?"
Something inside of her desperately fought wildly against these demands, and so, she was plunged once again into the corruptive black pool. This time, she found herself violently stripped naked and bloody by the claws of a passing daemon on the battlefield. Her rosette was torn from her and tossed aside like useless garbage. Claudine then felt herself forced to the ground as she engaged in willing brutal sexual congress with a daemon on top of the dying body of Inquisitor Lord Ariaz, all with the battle still raging all about her! Even worse, she found that she was actually enjoying the unholy act as claws erupted from her own mutating fingers. Corruption began to rush like a blissful black torrent into her soul, and in own voice, she heard herself calling out to the daemon for more!
Claudine's mental defenses shattered like glass as her soul was blackened with Chaotic energy, and she felt her new master reach through her soul to completely dominate her being.
As quickly as she had witnessed all of this, she was then back in the lounge, and the amber eyed stranger was smiling at her as he held her hand on the table. His hand wasn't actually a hand, but a group of cold black tentacles that gripped her fingers in a knot. One tentacle gently caressed the top of her hand in an almost affectionate manner.
"So?" the brutal Word Bearer psyker asked the former Throne Agent. He grinned warmly, and the beast's amber eyes flashed in satisfaction.
"Yes, Cardinal," Claudine whispered, her will completely crushed beneath the monster before her as she recalled the joy of her new profane union with Chaos. "I will obey."
Elsewhere:
"You'd better obey," I scolded Null as I began my quick climb upward into the atmosphere. Around us on the bridge, the revolting broken bodies of Flayed Ones were being moved out of the way by Zok, Ennoia, and one of the Skitarii warriors. I had been under the assumption that Necrons, when "killed", would teleport away in order to regenerate elsewhere, but I was wasn't confident enough in my lore knowledge to know if this was true or not. For now, I was happy that they were broken. We could throw them out into space later.
"Please have mercy upon this very stupid and repentant soul," Null continued to sob before me on the floor as the Divine Retribution offered me a quick estimate of fifty minutes before the Grandiloquent Abundance could fire its cannon again. We needed to get the hell out of here! The situation with Null losing his mind to a corruptive influence for the second time would have to be dealt with later, as I couldn't spend the great amount of heavy energetic effort in fully examining his soul with Sight right now. Instead, I decided to keep him on the bridge and under guard.
"I can't trust you in the engine room right now, so you're staying right here. When we're gone from here, I'm going to scour your soul for any disloyalty or corruption. If you have any other secrets, I'll find them," I informed the Tech-priest with a harsh flash of my Corona to punctuate my words.
"Omni-... uh," Null chattered as he prostrated himself before me, his entire body on the floor, his mind echoing dramatically with fear. Lian stood behind the Tech-priest, his arms crossed in disapproval. Virgil also quietly stood watching the encounter with a stern expression on his face. The Fallen Paladin's sword lay slung across his back, and he appeared to be breathing heavily. Null began to stammer again, and he nodded quickly. "I devote myself unquestionably to you! I will devote myself to humanity once again! The heresy of my past will never be repeated! I've seen the light! Never will I-"
The Tech-priest's sobbing was interrupted by a notation on the large display before me, and Alberich brought my psychic attention to a tiny flyer that was approaching in the sky. Tired of everything, I armed one of my remaining plasma torpedoes, and readied myself to blast whoever or whatever this was out of the sky.
"Wait, no!" Alberich sensed my destructive intention and cried out in alarm. The psyker then pointed at my display. "Look! Magnify this image!"
The vessel responded to Alberich's instruction, and on both my display and his, we now saw what was frantically following us into the sky.
"What..." I mumbled incredulously as I recognized the craft, and I even began to laugh! What on earth?!
"Horse of a Different Color! It follows us!" Zok cried out happily after placing the last Flayed One in a pile on the side of the bridge. "There was barely any charge left in her when we left! How is she flying?! And no pilot!"
The Horse of a Different Color was a bright tapestry of excited rainbow colors as it soared desperately through the sky! A quick look into the vessel displayed that it indeed had no pilot, and that the flyer was seemingly operating itself!
"It must have really enjoyed our escape if it seeks to follow us!" Zok laughed as he walked into my field of view, stepping between my throne and Alberich's throne. Rasputin continued to moan in pain as one of the sisters attended to his wounds. "Incredible!"
"What follows?" Null asked with a stammer as he stood. The Tech-priest turned around, and observed the flying car pass by a fluffy cloud on its way upward. It now seemed to be struggling in its flight. "A flyer with no pilot?"
"I stole that car from Evna's downtown museum when we needed to escape. The car changes color according to the mood of the machine spirit!" Zok proclaimed proudly. "Look at her go!"
"It's having trouble!" Alberich proclaimed, looking to me with a pleading expression. The car was beginning to slow, and its rainbow colors were beginning to dim.
I chuckled as I wiped away another bloody tear from my face. I was still somewhat unbalanced from my own death, getting beaten up, and the rush of defeating Am'Erika a second time. Maybe the next time I kill that daemon I can somehow use water so it can be a proper Wicked Witch of the West Oz demise? "Oh, okay. So you guys want a car?" I asked my bridge.
I didn't actually stop to listen to anyone's answer as I began to approach the struggling little craft as it slowed its ascent. "Divine Retribution, can you fit this car in your hold somewhere? I know you and I just got bigger so maybe you have more space?"
"Affirmative," the ship announced impassively in its androgynous whispery voice, and after a short rumble through the ship, the Divine Retribution spoke up again. "Shuttle hold bay A now reconfigured for use. Retrieve craft?"
"Yeah. If you can actually grab it out of the sky that would be awesome. Don't hurt it though, that little car is-"
The Horse of a Different Color then sputtered its last, and began to fall. It's paint turned from a brilliant rainbow to a dark blue! Oh no!
"Get that flyer!" I shouted to the ship, which immediately obliged me.
I felt my right talon extend and deftly catch the falling car. "Store flyer in shuttle bay?" the vessel asked me.
"If you can do that when we're still flying that would be amazing, but do it fast. We don't have a lot of time left!"
I felt the ship rumble below me as I sensed that it had placed the amazing Horse of a Different Color into a small hold near the rear of the ship before retracting its talons again. The Divine Retribution announced that the shuttle was now safe and secure. We had a flyer now!
"What a miraculous vehicle!" Zok mused with a grin. Alberich was also smiling, and the psyker even clapped in excitement.
"It'll be even more miraculous if we can get out of this," I replied as we continued to soar upward through the clouds.
"I hate to the bearer of bad news again, but the minefield is still active," Null quietly reminded us. "Any mine in high orbit and above the altitude of the space stations is active, and it will hunt us and destroy us if we draw close. The hole has passed overhead, and it has likely mended itself by now with repositioned mines."
"I will use my code and kill it," Rasputin groaned weakly beside me. He was actually worse off than I had presumed earlier, I could sense through my vessel. It appeared that a Flayed One had struck the Mad Monk in attempt to decapitate him on his throne, but only succeeded in striking his neck and shoulder. This was enough to nick an artery, and the Russian was quickly bleeding out on his throne!
While the Divine Retribution wasn't in the best shape, we had just eaten a hundred farmers, so we weren't running fully on fumes anymore. The ship definitely wanted to rest to regenerate its damaged hull, and I could see (and sense) multiple points of damage along my left wing, back, and even my head. But for now, we were in less danger than we previously were. Above, the display informed me that we were at about 45% void shields and 34% Parson shield strength. I directed a small amount of energy into Rasputin's throne in order to heal him.
The Mad Monk reacted poorly to the sensation of the Divine Retribution invading his body again, and cried out in pain. After a short bit of time, the Russian was now no longer bleeding or in any immediate danger of dying. "The code..." Rasputin hissed in pain.
"Alright, but how? Just speak it?" I asked, now realizing that exhaustion was beginning to take hold within me. This had been a very long day, and I hoped that I would sleep well tonight if I survived all this.
Null spoke up. "Have the Divine Retribution lock on to the frequency I share, and then, speak the code."
"Do you trust him?" Lian interjected behind Null as the Tech-priest stood before me. The Fallen Paladin now held his blade at the ready once again.
"For fuck's sake," I groaned in my exasperated fatigue, and with a quick cursory pull of my Sight, I discerned no deception in Null's statement. Doing this caused my Corona to flash like a matchstick, causing both my copilots to cringe away from my light. "It's fine," I announced.
I paused for a moment as I considered my options. If the minefield was permanently deactivated, this would remove any obstacle for any invading xenos into this world, but at the same time, it would allow people to evacuate again. I didn't think I could cross the breadth of that dangerous area of space through constant phase shifting, and premature translation to Warp was also a no-go, as I didn't want a repeat of Kolch. Hopefully, I really could lure the Necron fleet away from this world.
I really didn't like the option of completely disabling this world's defensive minefield, but I felt like I had very little choice at the moment. "Divine Retribution," I began heavily. "Fix onto the coordinates Null speaks."
Null began to rattle off a long string of numbers. He then turned to me, and nodded.
"Alright..." I sighed heavily as I added another long numerical chain. Here goes nothing...
As I spoke the code, I felt that Rasputin was watching me incredulously, his jaw dropped in disbelief. The Mad Monk was somewhat paler than before due to blood loss, but he was no longer in danger of dying as his wounds had been mended. "You... you took it out of my mind! How-"
"Magic," I answered bluntly after I completed the code.
I didn't get any indication that anything had worked through the Divine Retribution's senses, so I reached upward with my Sight to survey the minefield. I was easily able to see that it was now inoperative, and now, we could flee!
"Minefield is dead. Time to get out of here!" I announced to the crew.
I quickened our rate of ascent. We were now flying upward through the thermosphere as we raced toward the exosphere. Through the three windows of the bridge, the sky began to darken, and stars began to appear on the dark backdrop of space. Above us, an irregularly shaped bright object was now coming into focus in high orbit. My curious attention on this object caused a magnified window of the distant structure to appear on my screen.
Orbiting the world of Tar Vigaz at approximately 220,000 kilometers, this object appeared to be a spaceport. It was a very long branching structure covered in what appeared to be reflective solar panels. A handful of larger space crafts of differing shapes and sizes appeared to be docked alongside it like ships in a pier. The port also seemed to have a few covered terminals for more private docking. From here, it appeared that four Warp ships of significant size were docked. Three of these larger Warp vessels appeared similar in design to a classic Warhammer 40k-styled long Imperial ship from the lore with slight variants in design between each one. Each of these larger ships was between two and five full kilometers in length, and all appeared very heavy. Since I never played Battlefleet Gothic when that was a thing, I had no idea what these bigger vessels were called, but it was super interesting to see these ships in person!
As I observed the port from below on my magnified display, I watched as one of these large ships began to disembark, withdrawing from its position on the pier, its engines glowing in the darkness in space.
"This is Spaceport Evoldo," Lian informed informed me as he clutched Null's shoulder. "This is a wealthy public port used by the rich to conduct their trade. Beyond this port, the minefield reaches far into this system. For a thousand years, it has protected this world against all manner of pirates and xenos. It is a pity that it can no longer protect this world."
"Pity indeed," Rasputin snarked beside me with a dry cough. "Do not trouble yourself too much with your decision, tsarina. With no astral wind originating from the furthest reaches of the Astronomican to soothe the Warp in this region, this planet was doomed to fall. It was a question of if, but when."
Speaking of failing worlds, I set the vessel to continue to fly at an upward angle while I searched for the current location of the Necron fleet. The entirety of the fleet was now passing over the western horizon. It was orbiting at a might higher orbit than the spaceport. As this fleet continued to move, I could see that they continued to destroy the mines that lay before them with green lasers and some kind of electric whip, apparently not knowing that the minefield was disarmed. From here, the fleet appeared somewhat thinner than before, and a brief flash of Sight offered me the intuition that they had lost a fair amount of their vessels in their mad dash to get to me as soon as possible. However, the three Harvest Ships remained, and the lead ship, the Grandiloquent Abundance, still had its doomsday cannon!
I raced into the sky, fully understanding that I was very visible from the location of the Necron fleet. I could only hope that these xenos were more interested in hurting me than hurting this world!
Elsewhere:
"Look! There she is! Turn! Turn the damn fleet! Follow!" the Nome King screamed at his bridge as cringing Nome Crypteks frantically directed pilots, and surveyed various systems of the Grandiloquent Abundance. "If we don't catch her, she's going to get away! The thief removed the belt, and I can't track them unless the belt is being used! I don't want the alien running away again!"
The Nome King's long suffering brother Valgûl quietly stood before a control panel, his cold expression registering a semblance of disappointment in his singular red eye. Kaliko, Roquat's Chief Steward, was standing beside the Fallen Lord. The dour Overlord of the Flayed Ones certainly did not seem pleased. "My people aboard the eagle have been routed, and I cannot recall the shells of my warriors," he intoned flatly to the Chief Steward. "It appears this craft, Gir'Auda or not, has energetic shielding that prevents our technology from retrieving their bodies. We cannot get a teleportarium lock any longer either."
"It would seem so," Kaliko replied dryly. The two Necrons watched as the Nome King began to beat one of his lesser advisors over the head with his staff. The violent contact with the artifact caused the unfortunate red-robed Cryptek to cry out in pain.
There was a pause between the two differently-cursed beings. Both Valgûl and Kaliko were essential figureheads of C'tan-cursed dynasties, and each were both somewhat inexplicably resistant to the peculiarities of thought that ran rampant through the circuits of their respective peoples. After another piteous wail from the Nome King, Kaliko turned to Valgûl, and sighed. "He's fixated on destroying Gir'Auda. He will not see any reason until his rage passes."
"And my people?" Valgûl asked as he watched one of his ravenously hungry Lychguard warriors reach behind and gnaw upon the tattered skin draped across his back. The pitiful creature sounded a long low cry of hunger as he chewed on the disintegrating human hide.
"Roquat will not see the requirements of your people in this state, I'm afraid," Kaliko very quietly muttered as he turned away.
"Mmm," Valgûl hummed, watching the Nome King continue to scream like a small child having a tantrum. "One could say that with your soundness of mind that you would be a good leader to the Nome people. Both you and I remain resistant to our particular eccentricities within the minds of our peoples."
"To say such a thing is treasonous, Fallen Lord," Kaliko narrowed his singular green eye, and the smallest hint of a smile crossed his metal features.
"I suppose it may appear such, but I am simply making an observation on your quality of character, Chief Steward Kaliko. You have been a great help to my brother, and to your people."
The Chief Steward turned away again. An information feed inside his mind kept him updated on the movements of the Grandiloquent Abundance and the rest of the Necron Fleet. Roquat had just ordered the fleet to immediately slow and change dramatic direction in order to follow Gir'Auda's trajectory away from the planet. Inside the Dire Hunger, the Harvest Ship to their right flank, trouble was brewing. The lesser Flayer Lord in charge of Dire Hunger was having great difficultly, and it appeared that the vessel was now actually facing a mutiny from within, which was nearly unheard of in Necron society. The fragile threads of sanity that barely held the Flayed Ones together were snapping as they starved. Something had to be done here, that much was obvious.
"My people need to eat. It is a requirement of their systems, not a preference," Valgûl quietly spoke. "We must eat. It is the entire reason I agreed on this fool's errand. Truthfully, I now agree with Orikan. I have no quarrel with this terrible relic from eons past. And, my brother's fault in losing his belt is all his own. Let him wallow in his failure, for I no longer wish to engage in conflict with this vessel," The Fallen Lord gestured to a three dimensional model of Gir'Auda that demonstrated possible weak points and hull damage suffered from its recent confrontation with the walking statue a short time ago.
"Perhaps an... alternative solution presents itself?" Kaliko quietly dared.
Valgûl turned toward the Chief Steward, his single red eye glowing balefully. "I will graciously forget that you have said such a thing, Chief Steward Kaliko. I enjoy our discussions, but my goal right now is to provide for my people, and I will do so without enabling my brother's wild temperament."
Kaliko nodded and said nothing.
"I will be returning to the Dire Hunger momentarily. I have ordered the teleportarium to lock onto my position and the position of as many of my people on this vessel as it can adequately handle. The rest will hopefully understand my intention, and will I estimate that they will follow me using their dimensional shift ability, which I have now given them free use over once again."
"My Lord will be upset," Kaliko replied grimly. "What shall I tell him? And where will you go now?"
"I will contact him directly after I've been transported with my people. I will lead my people on their Time of Bounty to the world below, and then, we will depart for Drazak."
The Chief Steward was about to reply to Valgûl, but then, an especially pitched scream interrupted their quiet meeting. Kaliko immediately turned toward Roquat, and found his Lord standing before another large holographic screen. A group of red-robed Nome Crypteks were chattering nervously, and pointing upward toward something on the display screen that had greatly alarmed them. Anticipating yet another psychotic meltdown by the Nome King, the Chief Steward walked forward to attend to his charge. What the hologram displayed before the group actually caused him to pause in genuine surprise, and Kaliko took a short step back when he saw what was causing all the commotion at the helm of the bridge.
"No military! The scans said no military! No defensive fleet! Easy target!" the Nome King cried out. "Will someone tell me what in blazes that is?"
Roquat pointed dramatically up at the screen with his staff and swirled his ruby cape. Before them was a model of an Imperial-aligned (and fully armed!) cruiser, and it was making its way into the system presumably toward the world of Ev. The Chief Steward, being well versed in alien shipbuilding, recognized the stylings of an Inquisitorial Cruiser as it lumbered ahead, having just translated out of the Empyrean a short time ago. While still far away, they were flying at substantial speed, and it would not be very long before they encountered the inner rim minefield. In this moment, attending Crypteks had quickly intercepted two communications from the vessel, and it appeared that a human man named "Inquisitor Lord Ariaz" commanded this vessel, and it held the name of the Reasonable Solution. They were trying to get a hold of the world below them, and were not being answered.
As Kaliko turned to inquire Valgûl on what he would do now, he was faced with a bright green flash as the Fallen Lord transported himself back to the Dire Hunger. Instantaneously, a third of the Flayed Ones aboard also followed their lord back to their Harvest Ship. The disorientation that erupted on the bridge then caused the remaining Nomes and Flayed Ones to panic, and in the terrible confusion, a Nome Lychguard snapped, and impaled a Flayed One with his warscythe, damaging the Necron to inoperability, and causing him to teleport out of existence in a flash of green light. This triggered more Nomes into violence, and they began to assault the Flayed Ones that remained aboard.
"Ahhh!" the Nome King cursed fate as he cried out in incoherent distress, completely incapable of processing the chaos that had erupted around him! On another screen, the Mad King watched Gir'Auda continue to gain speed as the craft left the atmosphere of Ev, its wings gleaming bright hated gold in the light of the sun!