Isha strode out onto the balcony of her chambers, breathing in deeply and smiling at the sight of the city below her.
The Emperor's capital was a far cry from what it had been a mere five years past. Now, there were large parks and forests around the city, vibrant and green in the spring, with great trees as tall as any of the buildings, and blooming flowers. More than a dozen large lakes that shimmered a soft blue had been created across the city, and birds flew through the air, chirping happily, and settling on the great trees.
And above all, sunlight shone down on upon the mountain range at last. The sky above was not yet completely clear, but it was much lighter than it had once been. No longer did dense, dark clouds block the sunlight, much of the pollution having been cleared away by the devices she and the Emperor had developed together. There were still more clouds than there should have been and they were a greyish-white in colour, but they should be fixed soon.
It made Isha smile. She could sense the vibrant life that hummed throughout the city, hear the singing of the birds, the pleasant hum of the trees, the bright life in every leaf and every blade of grass. The lakes thrummed with life as well, fish and other aquatic life carefully transported or cloned (in some cases both) having been placed within them.
And the people were happy too. Happier than they had previously been. Their home was cleaner and more beautiful now. No longer did they breathe poison or know nothing of sunlight. Isha could see the children playing in the parks, the hustle and bustle of the markets and malls, hear the sound of traffic, and the laughter and joy of the people all around the city. There was pain, fear and sorrow as well, Isha had never known a city without it, but that was the way of life.
Bai-heng was a glowing bastion of life, and Isha basked in the light that no one else could see, even through the wards on the balcony.
The medicines and crops she had created for the Emperor had also aided vastly in improving the quality of life for the people of the city, and the larger Imperium as well, and that, more than anything, made Isha happy. Curing diseases, eliminating hunger, cleansing the air...she was proud of those things in a way she never could be of how her work fed the Emperor's war machine.
And yet, her heart could not help but ache. As much as Isha was glad to have helped the people of Terra, she longed to be with her children. She could feel them through the Warp now, their fear, their rage, their sorrow...and those who had heard her message, praying to her, searching for her. Others, who said that she and her family has failed, and they needed no gods any longer. And some of them, fearing that she had abandoned them out of anger at their crimes.
I will come for you, my children. Isha promised. I am angry, yes, but I have not abandoned you.
Isha stood there for several long minutes, enjoying the fresh air and the beautiful sights, before she finally sighed. It was tempting to stay here all day long, but she had work to do.
"I'm telling you, the Thunder Warriors are safer to use than the Legio Astartes." Astarte snapped, slapping her hands down on Malcador's desk.
The Sigilitte merely regarded her, unfazed. "And why is that, Director?"
"We don't have the Primarchs." Astarte said, wishing she didn't have to repeat this argument yet again. "I've told you this before. Without them, the Space Marines are inherently unstable. Even if we find the Primarchs, the Space Marines will be instinctively loyal to them first and to the Emperor second. I understand that I cannot dissuade the Lord Emperor from using the Space Marines entirely, but using them as the bulk of the Imperium's elite strike force is a mistake. The Thunder Warriors already serve perfectly well in that capacity, and lack any genetic loyalty to people who are not the Emperor."
"Yet, the Thunder Warriors were only stabilised by Isha, whom you have expressed mistrust of before," Macaldor observed. "Why suddenly change your mind, Director? Has she finally infected you with her softness after all these years?"
The words were spoken causally, but Astarte did not dare to imagine that Malcador was not truly suspicious. She exhaled and spoke carefully. "She has not, but all evidence points to the fact that she has done nothing to the Thunder Warriors. Ever since they were stabilized, they have served the Imperium well, and have yet to show any signs of disloyalty. By contrast, both you and I know of the flaws in the geneseed of the Primarchs, Malcador. Not to mention that if the Primarchs truly do live as the Emperor believes, we have no guarantee of their stability and trustworthiness. I do not trust Isha, but the facts speak for themselves. I truly believe replacing the Thunder Warriors with the Space Marines outright will be a mistake."
Malcador grimaced, but said nothing, seemingly mulling her words over. Astarte understood his concerns, truth be told. She had struggled with years on whether or not to raise this subject to the Emperor
But she meant it when she said that she felt it was too reckless to use the Space Marines. Their geneseed had some frankly alarming qualities that should not have been there. None of it had manifested as an actual problem yet, but compared to the Thunder Warriors, who had no problems any longer…
Perhaps Isha could stabilise and correct the geneseed if the Emperor would permit her access to it, but he was reluctant to do so, for all the trust he had placed upon her in these past years.
"Very well." Malcador said finally. "I will support your arguments when we speak to the Emperor, though I cannot promise he will change his mind."
Astarte nodded, relieved. "Thank you, Malcador." She knew swaying the Emperor on this would be hard, but it had to be tried.
"-and the last of Kalagann's former generals that were holding out have been slain and their domains taken at last, my lord. Ursh is finally at its end." Valdor finished his report.
The Emperor smiled in satisfaction. "Excellent." After Kalagann's death two years prior, his already diminished empire had crumbled to dust, divided between petty warlords who had once served the lord of Ursh, none of them even capable of approaching the same power and influence that Kalagann had once commanded. Mopping them up and bringing them to heel had taken some time, but it was done.
It had taken more than a century, but at last, there were no more kingdoms or empires that worshipped Chaos upon Terra. Ursh had been the last and most terrible, but in a few short decades, it would be nothing but a memory.
But the work was not done, the Emperor reminded himself. "And what of the Pan-Pacific front?" He inquired. "Has Dume responded to our offered terms?"
Valdor shook his head. "No, sire. He did not respond at all, and our fleets continue to battle his. However, several of his generals that we approached have responded favourably, and the agents we sent to stir up unrest and riots have had great success. Dume's grip on his empire diminishes by the day, and our spies say he is going more and more mad."
"Good," the Emperor mused, steepling his fingers. "Still, instruct our spies to be careful with him, and his most powerful subordinates. Now that all the warlords of Ursh are fallen, I suspect that Chaos will seek new puppets, and Dume would be ideal."
Ideally, the Emperor would have had Dume assassinated, but the man was a genius, for all his insanity, and the remnants of Golden Age technology he had reverse-engineered made it difficult to kill him. Several assassins had been dispatched so far, and none had yet succeeded. Though perhaps it was time for another attempt. He would have to speak to Malcador on the matter.
Before he or Valdor could say anything further, there was a knock on the door.
"Come in," The Emperor said, already knowing who it was.
The door of his office opened and Isha stepped in, gliding across the plush red carpet.
"Your Majesty," She said with a brief bow and then nodded into Valdor's direction. "Captain-General."
"Lady Isha," Valdor replied, returning the nod.
"So, tell me, what do you have for me, Isha?" The Emperor asked, leaning forward and steepling his fingers.
"The work with your Space Marines is done," Isha informed him, offering him a dataslate, which the Emperor took. "Director Astarte and I have refined the design as much as we can. You have three thousand Space Marines available and ready for deployment, and I estimate that there should be another several hundred ready by year's end. However, I'm afraid that I cannot fulfil your request to speed up their production any further. Even if we compromise on quality, it would simply not be worth it."
The Emperor hummed. "I see. And what of cloning?
Isha stiffened, her features twisting in anger and her eyes glowing slightly. "As I have told you before, I will not help you with that," Isha informed him coldly. "I cannot stop you from creating clone soldiers, but I will certainly not aid you in it. And I will not change my mind no matter how many times you press me on it."
The Emperor suppressed a sigh of exasperation as Valdor stiffened next to him. Isha's abject refusal to aid with creating cloned Space Marines had been a source of conflict between the two of them for some years now. Oh, Astarte on her own could clone Space Marines herself, and had done so, but the process was painfully slow unless they compromised heavily on the quality. But no matter how many times he pressed Isha on the matter, she refused to help in any way that did not involve creating Space Marines from consenting adult recruits. Isha's soft heart was useful in many ways, but an annoying impediment in others. Still, pressuring her again was unlikely to accomplish anything.
"Very well," He told Isha. "Is there anything else you have to report?"
Isha relaxed slightly, clearly relieved to have avoided this argument, but eyeing him suspiciously all the same. "I'm happy to report the sixth consecutive annual yield from my farms." She replied. "With the newest one, we have increased our yield by another 50%. We have a large surplus of crops and medicine that is yours to do with as you please. Even without that surplus, we have enough to supply the needs of every single person in Imperial territory for two years even if we halted production this instant."
The Emperor nodded, pleased. The ample food and medicine produced by Isha's farms and distributed by the Imperium helped keep his people happy, and the surplus was useful for placating the people of conquered territories and persuading rebel movements to join the Imperium. With every passing day, the quality of life in the Imperium rose, and the Emperor had high hopes that Terra would once more become a post-scarcity world as it had been during the Golden Age, once it was united under one banner once more.
He had been hesitant to give Isha more than the original farm, but it had turned out very well.
"Well done," He said, hoping to soothe the annoyance caused by his earlier inquiry.
Isha nodded curtly. "Thank you, your majesty. I must tend to my work now, however."
Ah, not soothed then. "You may go, then." He nodded. Hopefully, working on her farms for a few hours would calm her down. "Do not forget your disguise."
"I will not," Isha assured him icily, not bothering to turn around as she swept from the room.
The Emperor turned back to Valdor, who relaxed as much as a Custodes could once Isha was gone. "So, is there anything else, Valdor?"
"No, sire. We are waiting on reports from the Fifth Legion Marines we dispatched to scout nearby star systems, which should arrive later today or tomorrow, but there is nothing else for the moment."
"Very good," The Emperor said. "Let me know when the reports arrive."
"Of course, Your Majesty."
Isha strode through the large hallways of the Emperor's fortress, feeling anger bubbling in her chest. That wretched man. There were times when she thought they could almost be friends, and then he would make such ridiculous demands of her no matter how many times she refused.
The memories of the War in Heaven still haunted her. She had created so many clone soldiers, slave soldiers, of her own children for the Old Ones. And not just of her own children, but the Krorks, the Jokaero and other weapon-races as well. All those poor beings, who had never anything but war, who usually died, their minds, bodies and souls annihilated by the Yngir and their servants, or if they were 'lucky' the Old Ones would reincarnate them to fight again.
She would never be party to such a thing again, and damn the consequences. Isha did not care what the cost was.
Isha forced herself to calm. She had work to do, and being angry would not help. It was time to adopt her guise, in any case. Pausing in the hallway, she focused for a moment.
Her body shrank, from equal to that of the Captain General's to just a few inches above six feet, and her limbs and muscles shrank to the same proportions. Her pointed ears became rounded, and a quick pulse of power saw her clothes shrink as well.
Now in a human guise, it would be safe for her to leave the fortress.
Author's Note: And here we go with the first post-timeskip chapter.
For anyone wondering about the clone Astartes, it was revealed in Valdor: Birth of the Imperium that the first ten thousand Astartes created after the Unification Wars were all cloned. I thought it would be fun to play with here.