Author's Note: Hey everybody, Ghostwriter here back again. You guys may be wondering what happened, as the reddit version of this fic got updates while here it didnt. I'm not abandoning this, at least not in the short term, it was this site's ongoing server issues that prevented me from updating this with the latest chapters. I'm not gonna go into my opinions about the whole situation, its kinda complicated and a bit touchy. Just go read Fiction Press' response on their twitter if you want an idea of what happened, and form your own opinions. But enough about that, its update time!
With all that out of the way, lets get into the fic!
The ship was remarkably quiet given she was traveling through the Warp; Maybe the Immaterium was calm today, she half-heartedly joked to herself.
Hathor had instructed, more like dictated, the remaining crew of the Discord to perform a blind-jump to a set of coordinates outside of the Eye, before she ended them as well. It was the closest thing to mercy she could offer those corrupted souls.
The Red Fist put up much more of a fight than she expected. Maybe her apparent resurrection had left her fatigued?… that thought didn't feel quite right to her. She was weaker, she knew that as much, however that didn't stop her from annihilating the Red Fist Warband in its entirety. You'd think her armor was originally red given the amount of blood that caked its black surface when she was done. She really needed to get in practice with this new body when she could.
Now though, she sat alone on the bridge of this Chaos Warship.
Hoping that her plan was successful.
Hoping that she had successfully escaped the grip of the Eye Of Terror.
Hoping she finally escaped the threat of the Four returning to haunt her dreams again…
Although, that remains to be seen. For now though, she had been sitting on the bridge for approximately 72 hours now, according to the Nav-Terminal.
And she had another 192 to go before she reached her destination…
But sleep wouldn't come to her, she wouldn't let it. So here she was, staring into the empty expanse of the bridge.
She had found the captain's chair, it was the only seat large enough to fit her in her armor comfortably. She guessed that the former captain liked to have their presence known on the bridge, either that or they had an ego; It was probably the latter, she mused.
The Nav-Terminal in front showed her predicted arrival time, the current status of the ship's gellar field, alongside other crucial systems. She was thankful that most of the Escort class ships operated themselves for a time when given a blind-jump. This is the 62nd time she has checked the terminal for any inclination that things were going wrong, but so far, everything seemed fine.
She powered down the terminal again, a strategy that she thought would save power, but in reality was inconsequential. As the screen turned black, all she was left with was a reflection of herself in the dimmed screen display.
And she hated what she saw.
Every fiber of her being screamed at her that the image she was seeing wasn't her. Her face didn't have a perpetual scowl, she was jovial and often sported a smile wherever she went, even in combat. Her hair wasn't white, it was a dark maroon, almost black. Her eyes weren't this unnatural purple hue that reminded her more of her sister's than of her own, which were a deep amber. The face on that screen wasn't hers. The hair she saw wasn't her colour. The eyes staring back at her weren't her own. It wasn't her…
It wasn't HER…
Her fist slammed on the side of the chair, leaving a sizable divet in the metal as the echo was carried around the room. Reminding her of reality…
IT WAS HER…
She sighed as she powered up the terminal for the 63rd time, and she bemoaned herself that she was keeping count.
++ETA: 191h 17m 43s+++
++LIFE SUPPORT: 92.20%++
++ENGINE POWER: 87.61%++
++GELLAR FIELD INTEGRITY: 81.73%++
The gellar field integrity had gone down by .02% since she last closed the terminal. Maybe they had found her?
Maybe this was the beginning of the end for her cobbled together, half-assed plan.
Maybe this was…
Maybe…
She was driving herself insane.
She moved her face away from the terminal and stared at the wall instead. She wouldn't be reminded of how much her bargain with Chaos had physically changed her looking at the ceramite columns that supported the bridge, she thought. Instead her mind wandered to the ruinous powers themselves, in their ever confusing nature.
She was traveling through the Warp, literally right under their collective noses. She was basically strutting her psionic presence through their domain at break-neck speed. How had they not noticed her? Was her power that much weaker where even the Trickster, who had eyes and ears everywhere, couldn't care less about her presence? Maybe this was their game, to lure her into a trap and either kill her outright, or forcibly return her to their grim embrace.
The uncertainty was killing her inside…
But… that wasn't the only thing that was eating away at her already diminished psyche.
That ring… The thought came back to her again.
She had removed her thunder claw long after she had slaughtered all of the crew on board, and now it laid on the floor alongside her acquired mace, next to her slumped form.
She removed her gauntlets, alongside the corresponding under-gloves to see her hands. They were a paler white than she was used to, just like the rest of her skin. Another item about her new appearance that vexed her so. But that wasn't what drew her attention…
She hovered over her left hand, her right thumb rubbing the base of her ring finger. Where that ring would have been.
Where it should have been…
All at once, the memories began flowing back. He was a simple man, the 6th son a planetary noble, who had been auctioned off by his father to prevent his dynasty from being consumed by the encroaching Imperium of Man during the latter decade of her Father's crusade.
She'd researched that it was customary for his people's rulers to marry off one of their kin to forge alliances, and she was half-right. She accepted simply because the prospect of fighting a war as bloody as she predicted wouldn't be worth it, militarily at least… She was also certain the constant conflict and death was getting to her as well, but she'd never admit to it at the time…
She did feel sorry for him however, if only in some smaller capacity, since she foolishly believed that he agreed to this proposal.
She couldn't have misjudged the situation any more if she tried.
He was a nervous man, surprising given his status, but understandable given how most humans interacted in the presence of being such as herself. But he was… different…
He was quiet, reserved, and generally kept to himself for the most part. It took 3 weeks just get him to have a conversation with her that wasn't:
"Yes",
"No",
"I Understand",
Or some variation of those three phrases; she felt a slight chuckle rise from her vocal cords remembering that little tidbit.
But it took even longer for her to understand why he had been so on edge when they first met. In truth, his father had sold him out.
The bastard had always despised him and viewed him as a failure for his entire life, and for a reason even she couldn't quite pin down. So, as she later found out from him herself, this would be a perfect opportunity to get rid of deadweight and also protect his dynastic control over the region.
She distinctly remembered how he told her that, "He would be useful for the first and only time in his life".
That memory makes her blood boil…
His father also spoke about how she was this great conqueror and warrior who would likely strike him down the moment he stepped out of line, likely in an attempt to intimidate him. While his father was admittedly correct about her being a conqueror, and an excellent warrior at that, she wasn't indiscriminately violent; the thought of which quickly reminded her of her actions on Istvaan… She preferred not to go there again.
Bringing herself back from that thought, she was reminded of her first proper conversation with him. It was in her quarters aboard the Vengeful Spirit… they were having dinner.
"What do you think of the food?" She asked him, concern painting her expression.
"It's Good" He said flatly.
"..." The silence that permeated the air was deafening, even for her. She had been trying to be cordial to the man who was supposed to be her Consort, even if in name only. She studied his face, noticing how flat and emotionless it was, almost like he was a puppet who had his strings cut. She couldn't break the mask he was putting up no matter which approach she took… which got her to where they were now.
She sighed, it had been 3 weeks, and no progress whatsoever. She had hoped this arrangement would be a bit more… pleasant… But with the way things were now, she doubted that she could make a breakthrough, which she quietly mused to herself. She had to think of something… that was until…
A loud, metallic clag was heard throughout the room. She had knocked some pepper shaker off the side of the table, but that wasn't what surprised her…
He jumped… It was like he had been predicting something would happen and any small disturbance would cause him to panic, his eyes said as much. He was scared of her… that much she already knew.
"Are you okay?" She asked, trying her best to appear disarming to the man.
"I'm… fine" He quickly said, trying desperately to put the mask that had momentarily slipped back on. But he didn't know he was dealing with the greatest tactician in the Imperium, second only to her Father.
She knew how to press an advantage…
"You're afraid of me, aren't you?"
"..." He couldn't respond, his head craning down as if preparing himself for the guillotine. This was a problem she had to address… Quickly…
She got up… which caused him to panic slightly. The mask slipped again, he was getting sloppy. This was her chance.
She walked over to the other end of the table. She towered over him, which normally caused fear in her opponents, but… that was not her goal here.
She got down on one knee so that she was eye level with him. His breathing had picked up, likely fearing he had upset her, and that this was the time for punishment.
But instead of punishment, he got something much different.
She hugged him…
"I would never hurt you" She whispered into his ear with as much meaning as she could muster. Maybe she was being a bit manipulative, but she simply couldn't stand the awkwardness between them that had lasted for so long… she had done similar acts to help her sisters get along, how hard could comforting one human be? She thought to herself.
"..." Silence for a brief moment dominated the room, he was probably contemplating what was happening right now…
"How… How can I know that?" He breathlessly asked, almost at the tone of a whisper. She hadn't expected that response, but his apparent distrust of her got under her skin… Did he not know who he was talking to? She was not one to go back on her word, no matter the circumstance. She would have to prove him wrong… dead wrong…
"Because… I promised you that I would…" She responded, as quiet as he had been. Trying to emulate how her adoptive mother talked to her after a particular gruesome raid on Cthonia. She had promised both him and his father when the arrangement had been finalized that she would never bring any harm toward him or his family for as long as he lived…
"And I never break a promise…" A slight pause in his movements… His breathing slowed…
He then began to shake in her arms… The mask was breaking. His smaller arms reached around her larger frame, and finally… she got her wish…
The mask broke.
And he cried in her arms…
The memory eventually took Hathor back to her current predicament. How she wished she could just stay in that time.
When her and her Father's mission was progressing smoothly.
When her and her siblings were getting along.
When He was with her…
But it was ultimately for naught. She was alone on this ship. Alone in the cold darkness of the universe… She was… truly alone now…
She began to cry, much like how he would… It was a small, pathetic whimper at first, that eventually descended into a painful wail. The sound of which echoed throughout the empty halls of the Discord and reverbated inside the bridge, reminding her of the emptiness that existed inside her, it felt like a part of her had been ripped out, and was profusely bleeding… The stinging pain she felt reminded her that for the first time in her life, Hathor knew…
She had broken a promise…