Deep in the outer reaches of the Ultima Segmentum, within Imperium Sanctus yet still far from the light of the Astronomican, a great fleet of gleaming warships congregated in the space above the skies of Macragge. The largest among them was a mighty Gloriana-class Battleship dubbed Macragge's Honor, The flagship of none other than the Imperial Regent and Lord Commander of the Imperium, Roboute Guilliman. The colossal ship drifted through the void into a specially crafted spacedock, one of thousands servicing the beleaguered fleets of Ultramar. As the ship came to a halt within the port's scaffolding, Guilliman stood in his personal quarters staring out at his homeworld below. It was merely a virtual projection, a live feed of the ship's exterior, but it helped him feel less… trapped.
Having just arrived in the Realm of Ultramar from the Eastern Fringe, the main contingent of the Indomitus Fleet had seen better days. Deep wounds and scars marred the leviathan-like ships of the Lord Commander's fleet, and their stocks of weapons and supplies had been emptied to perilous levels. The Primarch's forces had been locked in a brutal campaign for nearly 3 years against the Sautekh Dynasty, one of the most powerful Necron dominions in the galaxy. It all began when a patrol fleet was alerted to what was initially believed to be a minor raid just beyond the Rift, at the edge of Imperium Nihilus. What began as a skirmish between a chapter of Primaris marines known as the "Rift Stalkers'' and a small host of Necron Destroyers quickly escalated to a prolonged conflict spanning multiple sectors, spilling out across both sides of the Cicatrix Maledictum and even attracting the attention of Guilliman himself, such was the size and scope of the rapidly proliferating hostilities.
Despite protests from his more zealous advisors, Guilliman had attempted to open a line of communication with the dynasty's Overlord in an attempt to avoid a costly and drawn-out campaign. He knew from the scattered records he had managed to excavate from the byzantine libraries of the Administratum that some Necrons were not the mindless machines many thought they were and could in fact be reasoned with… to some extent. Hoping that the leader of this dynasty was one of the saner members of their race, he managed to arrange contact with the Phaeron "Imotekh the Stormlord". To Guilliman's dismay, the Necron regarded him with little importance, seemingly annoyed at even granting him a few moments to speak. Their conversation was brief and largely fruitless, with the Stormlord ultimately declaring that he would judge whether the Primarch was worth his time in battle.
What followed was a brutal and grueling campaign, with Guilliman's forces stretched across dozens of different warzones all across the Great Rift. The Primarch, realizing the nearly inexhaustible resources of his enemy and the Stormlord's forces' penchant for direct, open combat, quickly adopted a flexible hit-and-run strategy which would prioritize isolating and brutally annihilating the enemy before they could concentrate their forces while preserving as much of his own supplies and manpower as possible. Even still, the battles fought were apocalyptic in their scale, drawing in reinforcements from all nearby sectors merely to maintain a coherent fighting force to repel the constant Necron incursions. Cities were wiped clean like polished glass, Planets were razed to smoldering rock, and several chapters of Primaris marines were depleted to the point of near extinction. The metal-clad xenos fought with unparalleled ruthlessness and efficiency, requiring all of Guilliman's strategic genius to simply contain the rampant destruction and bloodshed from consuming the entire Segmentum. It was a hard-fought, cataclysmic, near-pyrrhic victory, but ultimately the Necron attacks ceased. In truth, Guilliman realized, this had been a mere skirmish in the enemy's eyes. The Stormlord had merely sent waves of probing attacks to determine whether the armies of the Imperium were yet worthy of his attention… and eventually the Necron Overlord had simply lost interest.
Still, in Guilliman's mind, a victory was a victory, and despite doing his damndest to minimize his losses, the Imperial Regent's forces were exhausted and depleted. There would be more battles to come, more wars, more destruction, more death. His Indomitus Crusade had penetrated the Rift and brought temporary reprieve to some of the beleaguered worlds of Imperium Nihilus, but this was more akin to raids behind enemy lines than the "reclamation" that was promised. The Imperium was besieged on all sides by enemies, suffering a thousand cuts and bleeding from every one. He had a million external threats against the Imperium to handle, like a ship with an uncountable number of holes to fill. Yet, in spite of this, the majority of recent thoughts were far from the war-torn borders of the Imperium. Instead, an even more troubling matter had come to his attention.
Someone in the upper echelons of the Imperium was coordinating a highly sophisticated operation that was drawing resources from all across the galaxy, and he had no idea who it was, what they were doing, or why.
He'd become aware of the conspiracy shortly before the "Storm War". as the men had taken to calling it. He was approving a fresh stack of acquisition forms for the Departmento Munitorum, flipping through the towering stacks of stamped and sealed parchments which listed recruitment numbers, manufactorum quotas, and resource stockpiles. He wasn't checking for errors or misinformation, as he knew nearly everything in the documents was already miscalculated, manipulated, or forged at some point in the twisted labyrinth of bureaucracy they took to reach him. Corruption was such an endemic feature of Imperial administration that trying to uproot it all at once would leave nothing but a barren waste. Instead, he found himself having to move with the current, as it was paradoxically more efficient to temporarily accommodate the corrupt bureaucracy than to dismantle it, at least in some cases.
All of this to say that Guilliman was paying little attention to the largely fake numbers he was skimming through and stamping with his approval. Yet, despite his conscious disinterest, as the numbers on one page in particular passed through his gaze, a stirring in his subconscious gave him pause. He wasn't sure why these numbers in particular seemed out of place, a mere list of rote allocations of naval resources for a local Battlefleet in the Corribra Sector. Yet something gnawed at him, causing him to read the numbers over and over with increasing scrutiny. Then suddenly it struck him, the reason why the numbers stood out. He recalled a distant memory of his early years on Macragge, a lesson imparted to him by his adoptive father Konor. He remembered Konor discovering that one of his administrators was embezzling tax revenues, and he'd discovered it by noticing a pattern in the numbers the corrupt administrator was reporting. Or, more accurately, the complete lack of a pattern. Bureaucracy, as inhumane as it may often seem, is ultimately a function of human beings. Each has their own way of doing things, a unique fingerprint that expresses itself even in the most mindless of activities. A lack of that pattern, pure randomness, was then itself statistically unlikely and could indicate some sort of careful, coordinated manipulation.
If that indeed was what Guilliman was observing, then it was leagues more advanced and sophisticated than a simple case of fraudulent tax collecting. There should have been a pattern, some corrupt planetary governor consistently underreporting taxes, some fleet admiral overstating their needs, or some other infinitesimal anomaly caused by human error or malfeasance, yet he simply found noise that would have easily passed any routine bureaucratic filters or audits. He flipped through the stack of papers again, this time looking for the same anti-pattern with conscious intent. He discovered a handful of other examples which seemed to match, like needles in a haystack. Yet, in the end, he still had little to show for his efforts. He tried mapping out the anomalous paper trail, triangulating a potential geographic or hierarchical center of mass that could lead to a culprit, but the evidence stretched out across the entire Imperium showing no signs of geographic or administrative limits. This meant only one of two things: either Guilliman was simply losing his mind, or whoever was behind this was high up. Very high up.
Then, the Storm War broke out. Guilliman divested from his bureaucratic puzzling, focusing entirely on strategy and putting the strange episode out of his mind. As the war dragged on, he thought less and less of the matter, and as the conflict drew to a close, he was nearly ready to write the whole thing off as a strange coincidence that would merely distract him from more important matters.
He was going to do just that, until he received an encrypted message from Yvraine. The Ynnari Emissary requested a personal meeting with Guilliman, and through her wording implied a desire for discrepancy and confidentiality. The alliance between the Ynnari and the Imperium had been fairly… reserved, to say the least, with the two parties having had little interaction beyond the rather hectic events which brought them together. Still, allies were a priceless commodity in the Imperium, and Guilliman had not forgotten Yvraine's role in restoring him from near-death.
The expediency with which the Aeldari arrived upon receiving his reply surprised Guilliman and gave yet another hint as to the hidden urgency behind their actions. They met in a secretive yet secure location, beyond the prying eyes of those within the Imperium that might take umbrage with the Primarch's dealings with Xenos. Yvraine greeted him with respect and honor, retaining an air of formality and nobility without being too alienating. Their meeting was cordial and succinct and the Aeldari wasted little time in conveying exactly what she wished to say and what she wanted to know from him. She was an exemplary actor, weaving her words and behaviour in such a way that Guilliman understood perfectly what she wanted him to know, while keeping the rest of her secrets close to her chest. The prophetess knew better than to underestimate Guilliman's intelligence, and Guilliman himself expected nothing less.
She spoke of Imperium Nihilus, relating a handful of poetic accounts which led Guilliman to deduce there was some kind of psychic or chaotic activity arising beyond the Rift that the Eldar were concerned about. He had waged a number of campaigns against the Chaos Warmaster Abaddon's forces beyond the Rift, with the explicit goal of breaking apart any attempts to form a cohesive "Anti-Imperium" in the galactic north. He had been largely successful, with Abaddon's forces shifting direction to engage the Imperium more directly in response. He had, however, heard scattered reports of a chaos warband expanding in the vacuum of the Dark Imperium following Abaddon's withdrawal, but it was a secondary threat at best. Nothing worth delegating another incursion into Nihilus over, not with the abundance of far greater threats he had to concern himself with. Guilliman's reluctant dismissal of the matter was received by Yvraine, a tacit admission of the Imperium's stretched resources.
They continued speaking for several hours, their conversation oscillating seamlessly between tacit discussions of strategy and simple small talk. It was an ingenious way of dealing with any outside parties that may have been listening in, and Guilliman was more than capable of following each and every subtle hint and tangent. He recalled that Yvraine had once been a resident of the dark city of Commoragh, and this technique was likely something she had picked up there. Ultimately the Aeldari seemed to exhaust all possible avenues of discussion, revealing all that she could to the Primarch without exposing too much. Guilliman, for his part, left the conversation with a better understanding of the Aeldari's overall strategic position and began exploring opportunities in his mind for potential areas in which they and the Imperium could act on their mutual interests. They cordially reaffirmed their open-ended alliance, with Guilliman expressing an interest in expanding relations, albeit reminding her of the difficulty in selling the concept of xenos diplomacy to most of the Imperium. Yvraine acknowledged and echoed his sentiments.
It was a pleasant change of pace for Guilliman, to be dueling with words rather than weapons, with the goal of cooperation rather than extermination. Still, a small part of him felt that by the end of their conversation he still did not quite understand why the Aeldari had been so insistent on meeting him, and with such urgency. Was their alliance really that valuable to the Ynnari? Or was this merely a small part of some larger plan that was yet to be fully revealed? Just another Aeldari riddle, he supposed. The two shook hands, Yvraine seemingly satisfied with what she'd accomplished.
Then, just before they parted ways, Yvraine said something curious.
"Lord Guilliman, may I ask a… personal question?" She asked.
The bluntness and sincerity of her words in contrast to her earlier tone surprised Guilliman somewhat, immediately capturing his attention.
"When was the last time you spoke to your father?" She said.
The words struck him like lightning hitting every neuron in his mind at once. Guilliman's face grew slightly pale, and Yvraine immediately and profusely apologized. She said that the question was "uncouth and improper" and left in a hurry. To a bystander, it would have seemed as if the Aeldari had committed a faux pas and simply left in embarrassment… but Guilliman perfectly understood the intent of her words. It was not a question he was meant to answer, but a statement directed at him. A warning.
Immediately, his mind returned to the string of administrative reports, the strange anomalies in material procurement, the hidden pattern that seemed to be everywhere and nowhere at once. The Aeldari had just confirmed his most dire of suspicions: someone in the Imperial Palace was acting without his knowledge. No one else in the Imperium would have the level of authority needed to execute such a vast and deeply embedded operation. He doubted that Yvraine or the Aeldari knew who, otherwise she would never have chosen such a striking method to reveal it. It was a way of prodding him into investigating the matter himself, which he fully intended to do.
Which lead Guilliman to here, above the skies of Macragge, carefully considering how exactly to handle this situation. He had spies in all corners of the Imperium, as anyone high up in the Imperial leadership did, which made the complete lack of warning or indication of a hidden conspiracy all the more alarming. Independent of that, there were the Adeptus Custodes and the Officio Assassinorum, both of which were instrumental in quickly and cleanly handling the attempted coup by the High Lords shortly after his ascension to Imperial Regent. He had briefly considered the possibility that this was the work of some kind of remnant of the Hexarchy, but quickly dismissed the notion. The rebellious high lords were sloppy and careless, with the Custodes, Assassinorum, and Guilliman himself all becoming aware of their seditious plans long before they acted upon them. He was doubtful that a weakened rump organization with a fraction of the resources would be capable of this level of conspiracy. There was the Inquisition, but Guilliman did not believe they were capable of such organized action either. Despite their famed secrecy being very much real, the Inquisition was also a highly fractured institution rife with factionalism and no clear hierarchy beyond fleeting relationships between individual inquisitors.
Guilliman stopped himself from recklessly theorizing over hypotheticals without hard evidence. It was a poor habit which led to reckless and irrational action, something he needed to avoid at all costs. The simplest way to get to the bottom of this was to simply travel to Terra himself, something he had already been scheduled to do once the Storm War had concluded. That also meant whoever was at the top of this conspiracy also knew he would be traveling to Terra shortly, giving them ample opportunity to cover their tracks or worse. For all he knew, he would be walking straight into a trap. No, he needed to do something unexpected, something that might cause these conspirators to react impulsively and throw off their plans. His mind wandered through the endless list of available tasks which might provide a sufficient delay while also being worth his attention. Even if his intent was essentially to just waste time, that was no excuse to actually waste it.
He recalled a report he had received regarding a relatively young xenos race that had established a small empire for itself at the fringe of Imperial space, not far from Ultramar: the so-called "Tau Empire". Due to the overwhelming number of far greater threats and matters which warranted his attention, he had so far concerned himself very little with these "Tau", seeing them as just one among many xenos races which occasionally fought Imperial forces though posed no immediate, existential threat to the Imperium like Chaos or the Tyranids.
From what little he had read about them in Imperial reports, most in the Imperium's leadership regarded them as insignificant upstarts with no use to Humanity, simply too unimportant to dedicate a campaign of extermination to. Guilliman had seen this sentiment leveled at most xenos races by Imperial officials, usually as a way of saving face whenever the Imperium lacked the resources to actually deal with a threat rather than simply ignoring it. Yet what did stick out to him was a vocal minority of officers within the Imperial Navy and Imperial Guard who seemed to regard the Tau not only as significant, but worthy of respect. Such a surprising attitude towards xenos made more sense when Guilliman realized that these officers were all men who had fought the Tau during the Damocles Crusade, the Imperium's first and largest major conflict with the Tau to date. Many of them seemed to acknowledge the Tau as worthy adversaries, and some even believed they could potentially act as temporary allies against more pertinent threats such as the Tyranids, whom they appeared to have had a surprising success in repelling.
Guilliman's mind was made. He would take a small, unscheduled detour on the way to Terra, opening a direct line of communication with the leadership of these "Tau" and possibly establishing some kind of non-aggression treaty. It was certainly a worthy venture, if perhaps slightly beneath the Imperial regent, but that was of little concern to Guilliman. He opened up a hololink to the ship's cogito-network, establishing a data-tunnel with the main databases on Macragge. He requested all available reports and information on the Tau and their history, which he would review in preparation for planning out a strategic approach for diplomacy.
Still, it troubled him to simply leave the unknown conspirators to their own devices, even if it was part of his plan to flush them out. He needed a trusted agent he could send, if not to investigate then to simply keep an eye on the potential conspirators. He needed someone loyal to him, yet sufficiently independent enough to autonomously investigate any hints of disloyalty or conspiracy. He also needed a target, a group likely to be involved yet not powerful enough to invoke suspicion when investigated. After some deliberation, Guilliman made a decision on both. Opened a comms channel on his personal vox-caster directly to the ship's Astropath department.
"My lord? Do you require our services?" a frail-sounding voice said over the communicator.
"I need to send an encrypted message to an agent of the Inquisition, priority one." Guilliman said.
"Of course, my lord. To whom is this message intended, and what are its contents?" The Chief Astropath said.
"Recipient designation: Kararinya Greyfax of the Ordo Hereticus. The contents of the message are thus: Esteemed Inquisitor Greyfax, in light of your unyielding dedication and steadfast loyalty to the Imperium, I require services once again. You are to locate and rendezvous with the Astartes chapter known as the Minotaurs. As a fleet-based chapter, their location and activities are rarely logged in Imperial records, and in light of past events I require you to investigate their recent activities. That is all." Guilliman said.
"It will be done, my lord." the Astropath said, and the secure line went silent.
Guilliman took a deep breath and exhaled slowly. All there was left to do now was wait for his plan to bear fruit.
"In the meantime," Guilliman said. "I think I will busy myself with some homework."
He pulled up the records he had requested on the Tau and began reading, starting with an archived report written by the commandant of a Mechanicus Explorator fleet dated to the 35th Millennium.