Author's Note: For those interested, there are now eight advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dash): p-atreon/ SkySage24.
The shimmering map of the galaxy created by the hololithic projector hung in the air, revolving slowly.
The stars and worlds glittered like silver gems against the black void, the human names of each one displayed in shining letters above them. It shone all the brighter for being the only source of light in the Emperor's office, where the curtains had been drawn and no other lights had been switched on.
The map displayed many colours, being a nearly perfect replica of the galaxy: stars were shown in yellow, orange, red and more, with planets in grey, brown, blue and green were depicted everywhere. Even the paths of meteors and the placements of nebulas were noted down.
"This map is a few millennia out of date, but the positions of the stars and the planets are unlikely to have drifted," The Emperor said, manipulating the display with deft hands. "I will update it as the Crusade progresses, but it will serve for now."
With a touch, he highlighted nineteen different worlds, each one shining with a different bright gold numeral.
"Here," He said almost reverently. "Are my sons."
Across the desk from him, Isha and Malcador both frowned at the map, albeit for different reasons.
"A few are quite close by," Isha commented. "Do you intend to fetch them soon?"
George nodded with a smile. "The Sixth is here," He gestured to one of the highlighted words not far from Sol. "And the Second is here." He pointed to another one somewhat further away but still not too far. "I cannot go immediately, but soon."
"Is that wise?" Malcador asked, his shrewd old eyes scanning the map. "There is still much to be done. Terra's unification is only recently complete, and Mars chafes at our restrictions on them. It may be best to wait until we have the entirety of Sol firmly in our grasp."
"The Primarchs are important," The Emperor insisted. "Not just because they are my sons, but because they are my greatest creations, my finest weapons. Having more Primarchs on hand will help accelerate the conquest of Sol. And leaving them vulnerable to the predations of Chaos is not an option."
Isha's frown deepened at the word 'weapons' but fortunately she said nothing, only looking down at the map again.
Malcador seemed unconvinced, however. "There is still a great deal of work to be done here," He insisted. "At the very least, you should send a detachment of Astartes and Custodes to pick them up instead of going yourself."
George felt a prickle of irritation at Malcador's disregard for his sons but pushed it down. His old friend and student would only listen to logic and pragmatism, not to emotion.
"The Primarchs are vital, Malcador," The Emperor emphasized. "They are the pinnacle of warpcraft and science both and would be incredibly dangerous enemies if Chaos can corrupt them. There is a chance they may already have corrupted or at least influenced some of them. We must find them and bring them to my side as soon as possible. I will leave an avatar here on Terra if that will put your mind at rest, but I must go."
Malcador absorbed this for a moment, his grey eyes narrowed.
"And if you find one who has fallen into the thrall of Chaos?" The Sigillite asked softly, his voice barely above a whisper.
The Emperor was silent for a long moment, his eyes closing as ancient memories flashed through his mind.
"Mama, look at this!" A small child with sand on their clothes gave a gap-toothed smile as they looked up at her - at him - their hands cradling a particularly colourful seashell.
"Die!" The same child, now fully grown, with eyes burning with madness and fey light, crimson lightning and black flame crackling around him in an inferno.
"So you're a monster too…" The last gasp of the child before he died of his wounds, cradled in the arms of his killer and parent.
The Emperor opened his eyes, now fully molten gold and burning all the brighter in the shadowed room.
"I will kill them." The Master of Mankind said, his voice cold as ice. "Does that satisfy you?"
Malcador bowed his head. "It does, my lord." His voice carried both acceptance and an implicit apology.
As for Isha…the Emperor had half-expected her contempt and disdain, but she only looked at him with a bitter sort of understanding.
It came to him after a moment. There was still hope for the Primarchs, at least. For Isha…she would have to stain her hands with the blood of more than one of her children in the centuries to come.
Thousands of Eldar would likely die by the hand of their Mother, for the sins they had committed.
It would be a lie to claim that the thought did not bring him a kind of dark joy and satisfaction, for all the misery that the Eldar had wrought upon mankind.
But there was a kind of sorrow too, a regret that Isha would have to do it.
Neither outweighed the other, both were simply…there.
It was perhaps for that reason that George spoke his next words, though he had already intended them beforehand. "Isha, will you come with me to find the Primarchs?"
The alien warp construct gave him an indecipherable look - and not for the first time, George wished he was as adept at reading her as she was him - but nodded briskly. "Of course."
"Killing the Primarchs is a last resort for a variety of reasons," He told Malcador, who was now subtly radiating displeasure. "Isha can purify any Chaos taint if it is there, as long as they are not fully in thrall to Chaos and she does not have to contest their soul against one of the Four."
Malcador reached up to stroke the beard he had begun growing recently. It had made George chuckle when Malcador had confided his intention that it should make him look more like one of the mythic wizard advisors of old, much like George himself during his life as Merlin. "What of the psychological damage they will have endured as a result of the corruption?"
The Emperor sighed. "I will rewrite their minds to deal with the trauma," At this, there was a distinct flash of disapproval from Isha. "But if it is too deep for me to do so without damaging them, then they will have to go into stasis until I have time to help them. It is not ideal, but better than letting them be slaves of Ruin."
Malcador gave a sharp nod. "Understood."
"But before I can go, we have several arrangements to make," The Emperor said, a swipe of his hand manipulating the map so that it zoomed on a different region, still near Sol. But rather than being highlighted red to display the presence of a Primarch, there was a smear of green.
"This is the Ork Empire nearest to us," The Emperor said, zooming in on it. "It is not developing fast enough for it to be an immediate concern, the conquest of Sol should be complete before that happens. However, it should serve as a useful testbed for this first mission."
Malcador looked displeased, but this time kept it to himself. For all his mistrust of the Eldar and Isha, he understood perfectly well the need to curtail the Orks before they evolved too far.
"For the mission, I am considering two chapters of Space Marines from either the Sixteenth or Fifteenth Legion," George continued. "Isha, your thoughts?"
Isha looked thoughtful. "The Fifteen are the psychic ones, yes?"
"Universally so," George nodded. "A consequence of Magnus's gene-seed it seems. I thought their abilities might sync well with that of the Eldar."
"Hm," Isha considered it. "And the Sixteenth?"
"The Sixteenth are Horus's sons. The tip of the spear, excellent shock troops and generalists who are quite good at beheading strikes. Quite professional."
Isha tapped one long, tapered finger on his table. "I would recommend the Sixteenth," She said eventually. "My children are still in the process of reinventing their psychic abilities, and the Fifteenth's presence would likely grate on their egos. The Sixteenth will fit in better, and will serve as a swift sword if the hammer that is the psychomatons turns out to be unsuitable for whatever reason."
Malcador's face tightened at the mention of the psychomatons, and even the Emperor himself had to suppress a grimace at the thought.
The idea of Eldar still having psychomatons, even a limited number…was quite unnerving. The Emperor's fears were soothed a little by the knowledge the psychomatons answered to Isha above all, but still.
But it was useful in this case. The nearby Ork Empire was large enough that even a swift decapitation strike would have required a full legion and more ships than the Imperium currently had available.
The psychomatons, however, would be able to deal with it quite swiftly with only minimal help from the Eldar and Space Marine forces.
And if George was being honest with himself, it was why he and Isha had decided on this in the first place. A mission that was dependent on the cooperation of the Eldar and the humans involved to succeed…well. That was something for the future.
This was mostly just a trial to see if it could work at all.
"The Sixteenth then," George settled on it. "And I'll dispatch a few Custodes to oversee them," He paused for a moment before sharing his next thought. "I intend to send Horus along as well. It will do him good, I believe. He needs a challenge, and this should suffice as one without being beyond him."
Isha raised an eyebrow but didn't object, while Malcador's frown deepened. However, the Sigillite remained silent as well.
"Very well. That aside, I wanted to ask," Isha said slowly. "Why Space Marines and not Thunder Warriors? The latter are more battle-hardened and suited for such a risky mission, surely."
The Emperor didn't answer immediately. He could hardly tell Isha the actual reason, that the Thunder Warriors were positively disposed to her already to a worrying degree, and interaction with Eldar who worshipped her was…dangerous, to put it mildly.
"The Space Marines will be the main strike force of the Imperium going forward, now that we have worked out the hypno-indoctrination," He said instead. While the Emperor had been wary at first, Malcador's recruitment of Fo had turned out to be an invaluable boon in many ways. "They need to start learning how to handle Orks. The Thunder Warriors will be ending production soon and will be shifted to a role as reserves and trainers in the long-term, so they don't need to do this." All of which was technically true, but not the full truth.
Isha's expression suggested she understood full well that this was merely an excuse, but fortunately, she didn't push.
"Very well," She conceded. "I will go inform my children about this, and select the detachment to accompany your soldiers."
"Of course."
With that, Isha vanished in a burst of light, her presence hurtling through Sol and towards Alpha Centauri, where Iyanden lay.
"Is this truly a good idea?" Malcador spoke up as soon as she was gone, staring at the spot where she had sat with disdain.
George had to stop himself from rolling his eyes. "Yes, it is," He told his advisor sternly. "And that aside, I cannot turn down a chance at some access to the Webway."
That, at least, Malcador understood.
"It will be very helpful," The Sigillite acknowledged. "You're sure you can parlay into more permanent access later?"
"I am," The Emperor said confidently. "That aside, she has promised to teach more about warp tunnelling and what that entails," The Emperor was looking forward to it. He had learned much from the construction of the Kalium Gate, a project which had taken well over a thousand years at the time, but he was excited to expand his knowledge.
Isha had warned him that her understanding of it was limited, but what she did now was still knowledge she had learned directly from the Old Ones themselves.
"Will it be really that useful?" Maclador asked doubtfully. "The Kalium Gate was difficult enough back in the day, warp tunnelling now…"
"Most likely building new warp gates will be impossible," George agreed. "But it will help me refine and improve the Webway Project."
The Emperor didn't mention subspace. Malcador knew, of course, but it was too wild and unlikely a dream for the Sigillite to be convinced by it.
"Very well," Malcador sighed. "I just hope you know what you are doing old friend."
"I am," The Emperor assured him. "This will all go according to plan, you'll see."
"I hope so. I truly hope so."
