Author's Note: There are currently three advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dash): p-atreon/ SkySage24
Stepping out of the shuttle onto the grass, what startled Taymon Verticorda most was how clean the air was.
He had seen verdant places such as this on Mars, in the labs and carefully cultivated habitats of the Magos Biologis. Those were sealed environments, yes, insulated from the pollution of the surface, but they were not dissimilar to the scene he gazed upon now.
There was a field of grass and trees in the distance. The sky was slowly turning blue, Sol blazing overhead.
All these things were not unfamiliar. Some of the simulated biospheres on Mars were as large or even larger than this field. Sol was brighter, perhaps, more so here than it ever could be on The Red Planet, but even that could be replicated by the right lighting systems.
But the air was unfamiliar.
It wasn't any smell. Rather, it was the lack of smell. It was not as if Verticorda had visited every or even the majority of enclosed biospheres on Mars, but there was always some smell there. Of experimental plants and pollen, of chemical additives to the air that made it sweeter.
The air here on Luna was just…clean.
Nothing more. Nothing less.
To a son of Mars, who had grown up among the cities of iron and glass, where the air was always heavy and the sky never clear of dense, dark clouds, it felt almost wrong.
Taymon knew this was far closer to the environment that humans had evolved in, of what Terra had been like before the coming of the Old Night.
It should have felt like home, but it instead felt foreign. Alien.
Before he could dwell on it too deeply, Verticorda saw a golden shuttle, larger and more ornate than his own, in the distance, making its way towards him.
Verticorda tugged on his collar uncomfortably as his Skittari guard fanned out, forming a perimeter around him. As the shuttle drifted closer, he felt almost naked without the protection of his Knight, but a mere shuttle would not have sufficed to transport Ares Lictor.
There were larger transports available, of course, but bringing his Knight along could have been too easily interpreted as a sign of aggression.
So instead, he clasped his arms behind his back and waited, eyes fixed on the shuttle above.
To his surprise, the golden vessel didn't land. Instead, it stopped some distance away, hovering in the air. A door slid open on the side, and under Verticorda's astonished eyes, someone jumped out.
The figure landed on the surface with impossible grace, not disturbing so much as a blade of grass before making his way over, and as he approached, Verticorda recognized him.
The Emperor was shorter than he had appeared in the transmission.
Instead of the golden giant clad in ornate armour, the man placidly approaching them was roughly Taymon's height, perhaps a little shorter. The armour had been replaced by a simple but elegant dress uniform, a deep black trimmed with gold.
It was unsurprising, powerful psykers could adjust their physical appearance as they pleased, but it was still a little unnerving.
As he finally reached within hearing distance, the Emperor smiled, pearly white teeth flashing, waving one gloved hand.
"Lord Commander! Thank you for accepting my invitation!"
"Lord Emperor," Taymon acknowledged, finding some of his tension draining away.
Perhaps he and the Emperor could hash out a peaceable resolution to this matter, after all.
"You did not bring any guards?" Verticorda asked after a moment, scanning the undergrowth and wondering if they were simply hidden somewhere.
The Emperor had been the one to choose this place for the meeting, after all.
The Terran warlord's smile didn't waver at the question. "No. As I said, this is a parley. I thought it would be, ah, overly aggressive to bring my guards here."
Verticorda shifted a little, suddenly feeling self-conscious of the red-robed Skittari around him, bristling with hidden weaponry, but he pushed forward determinedly.
"You have adepts and soldiers of Mars as captives, Lord Emperor. I would like to see them released."
The Emperor chuckled warmly, folding his arms. "Well, I would certainly like to release them, Lord Commander, but that depends on your terms, I'm afraid. What are you willing to give me for the freedom of your people?"
Verticorda suppressed a frown. "I will take the Mechanicum's vessels and our people, and leave. There will be no conflict between us, and we can go our separate ways."
The Emperor's smile didn't waver, but it did take on an edge. "Come now, Lord Commander. Do you take me for a fool? Your people assaulted my realm and were preparing for a larger invasion when I repelled their initial strikes. I am not going to release them for nothing."
Verticorda had expected that, but he had to make the offer. The Mechanicum did not negotiate with barbarian warlords. Even leaving without any reprisal was a larger concession than most others would have offered in his place.
"Then the might of Mars will fall upon you," He said simply. A diplomat or ambassador might have played around it longer and sought to convince the Emperor of the folly of challenging Mars with pretty words and implied threats, but Verticorda was a soldier. There was no reason not to get to the point. "We do not tolerate our priests being taken hostage."
"And I do not tolerate unprovoked assaults upon my realm by a foreign power," The Emperor countered easily. "Come now, Lord Commander. You seem like an honourable man. Surely you cannot expect me to just pretend as if none of this ever happened?"
It was true. Verticorda wasn't comfortable with any of this. He remained unconvinced the Emperor was a threat to Mars, STC or not, and this whole affair felt like a waste of time, resources and lives.
But he had sworn an oath, and he would see that through to the very end.
"It's out of my hands, Lord Emperor," Verticorda said finally. "I am only a soldier, here at the command of the Fabricator-General. I do not have the authorization or ability to make any sort of deal with you."
The Emperor's smile widened at that, as if he had been waiting for those words. "Perhaps, Lord Commander. But what if I gave you an incentive, something that would make your masters on Mars happy?"
"And what sort of incentive would that be?"
The Emperor flicked his wrist, and vines and wood sprang from the ground. Verticorda stumbled back immediately, even as the Skittari brought up their guns, but the only thing that happened was that a table and a pair of chairs formed.
"How to do this, of course," The Emperor said, seating himself and leaning back. "I daresay they would be very interested in the technology I used for this."
Verticorda's eyes widened. What the Emperor had done just now was such a small thing, but if he was reading the man's intent correctly….
"You mean the technology you used to terraform Luna," He whispered.
"The technology I am still using to terraform Luna," The Emperor corrected, waving a hand at the other chair in invitation. "I am willing to share it with the Mechanicum…under the right conditions, of course."
Verticorda took a seat warily. "And what conditions would those be?"
"Those are for the future, I'm afraid. As you said yourself, you do not have the authority to discuss such matters with me. But you can deliver a message to the Fabricator-General, that I am willing and able to talk despite the Mechanicum's aggression against me."
"And what reason does the Fabricator-General have to not simply take this technology from you by force?" Verticorda inquired. "What makes you think he would negotiate with you?"
"Oh that's quite simple," The Emperor leaned forward, steepling his fingers. "The technology I am using is from the Golden Age, but it is psychic. Only a psyker properly trained in its usage may wield it, may understand it. And Mars, for all its knowledge, is not a master of warpcraft, I fear."
That…was true. The Warp was a dangerous thing, one which even the Tech-Priests of the Mechanicum regarded with caution and mistrust, for it had driven the finest of them mad before. It had an allure, to be sure, for it seemed like there was nothing it could not do, but the study of the Warp was one of the few things every sect on Mars agreed upon as something to be strictly monitored and controlled.
Psykers were to be studied, used and sometimes trained if they were stable enough, but never trusted.
Yet, if the Emperor was telling the truth, the handful of psykers the Mechanicum employed would not be enough.
"I can guarantee nothing," Verticorda said slowly. "I hope you understand that. But I can deliver your message back to the Fabricator-General, yes."
"That is all I ask. I simply wish for a chance to speak to him," The Emperor said pleasantly. "And as a gesture of goodwill, I am willing to release Magos Augustus and the other prisoners. Not the ships they came here on, I'm afraid, but the people on them, yes."
"Then we have a deal," Verticorda agreed.
"Excellent," The Emperor's golden eyes flashed for a moment, the same colour as the sun above. "May it go well."
"I must admit, you are different from what I expected."
Verticorda remarked. "I was expecting… well…"
The Emperor laughed. It was a deep but pleasant sound, like a bell being struck gently but firmly. "A brute? A bloodthirsty warlord who would demand your submission, or attack without warning?"
"Well, yes. But you are…civilized."
The Emperor chuckled again. "To being civilized, then, Lord Commander. And let us hope your Fabricator-General accepts my offer."
"I hope so."
From Lunar orbit, cloaked so that no one might see him, the Emperor watched the Nike Squadron rocket away in the void, the members of the initial expedition on board.
"This is unlike you," Came Isha's voice from next to him. She was watching the Martians leave with something distinctly like intense displeasure on her face. "I have never seen you approach any enemy with such a soft hand."
Something would have to be done about that, though George wasn't sure what. It wouldn't do to have one pillar of his empire despise the other.
"It had to be done," He said. "I need the Ring of Iron and the expertise of the Mechanicum. My plans for the reunification of humanity are impossible otherwise."
"And there are no other options?" Isha asked disdainfully. "Surely there must be other centres of industry in the galaxy. What of the Jovian Shipyards?"
"None that I am aware of which are as potent as Mars, or could be persuaded to my cause," The Emperor said firmly. "The Jovian Shipyards are indeed useful, but they alone cannot serve. Not to mention that to claim them and drive out the xeno slavers that control it, I need the kind of fleet only Mars can provide."
"Of course," Isha agreed sarcastically. "The xeno slavers must be driven out, but human slavers are a different matter entirely. My apologies for not noticing the distinction."
The Emperor frowned at her. "Isha," He rumbled.
But the Eldar Goddess of Life simply crossed her arms and stared back at him with eyes as hard as jade, unyielding.
In the end, it was George who looked away first. "We'll discuss this another time," He muttered, not looking forward to it. "In any case, it is not as if I plan to yield to all the Mechanicum's demands."
"What is the plan, then?"
"The meeting is just a pretext for me to get to Mars without having to either force or sneak my way in. If Vashtorr is truly behind all this, I am certain he will have countermeasures prepared for me, so it is best to approach them from a diplomatic angle," George explained. "Once I meet with Kelbor-Hal, I am confident I can influence him to see things my way…even if I have to twist his mind a little."
Isha hummed doubtfully. "And you think Vashtorr does not have plans in case you try this approach either?"
"I am sure he will, but I must try."
Isha's expression remained doubtful. "Well, for your sake, I hope this plan works. But what if it does come to war?"
The Emperor was silent for a long moment, his eyes focused on the red orb in the distance, and the small squadron of ships making its way back towards.
"We will cross that bridge when we come to it," He said quietly.
Though he desperately hoped he would not have to.
Author's Note: And with this, we come to the end of the first book of Everqueen.
Is this the ideal place to end it? Probably not. But I think it is a decent enough jumping point, and I don't want to fall into the trap so many fanfic authors do of just continuing on and on, never taking a chance to split the narrative.
I think this will be a fresh start for me, and help me write more in the future, as well help make things smoother. Writing Everqueen has been a difficult process, and I won't say I don't have regrets. But that's part of being a writer. If you can't look back on what you wrote yesterday and think of how it could have been done better, then you've stopped growing, stopped learning from your mistakes.
But I have enjoyed it very much nevertheless. I've learned a lot, and had fun along the way.
There are, of course, many plot threads left to tie up and questions unanswered. Isha's story isn't even close to done yet. I'm still excited to continue writing about her, and so many ideas I still want to share with you all.
Which is why Book 2, Everqueen: Reclamation, will be released shortly and will fully delve into the Martian War and what happens after. As mentioned at the beginning of the chapter, the first three chapters are already available on my .
I will be posting an update here when I publish Book 2, and I hope that you will all keep following my work when it happens.
Thank you.