As always, there are three advance chapters on P-atreon (remove the spaces and dashes):p-atreon/ SkySage24
Bai-heng burned.
High above the capital was a grand ship the size of a small town, that looked more a cathedral than a war vessel, painted a deep ruby-red and decorated with symbols of the Omnnissiah, broadcasting religious chants that nobody had heard before. Crimson and gray vessels that looked like great birds of prey streamed out of their mothership and flew across the capital, raining down missiles at strategic locations.
Screams echoed throughout the streets, pillars of smoke rising from great infernos, and the stench of fire and death drifted through the city.
But the attackers were not unopposed. Bai-heng's own defenses had been taken by surprise when these cloaked attackers appeared out of nowhere, but they were responding swiftly. Gold and black airships, smaller than the attackers but more numerous, swept out of the Emperor's mountain-fortress, and shield generators across the city were being activated, having been built for precisely such situations. Golden force-fields expanded across sections of the city, shielding them from further harm.
But the assault continued, the Mechanicum attackers no less daring or determined than the defenders, and better armed. Two scores of the Mechanicum ships were focused on the mountain docks, preventing the Epona from rising to the defense.
And though the Imperial air squadrons were faster, they were also smaller, with less firepower than their counterparts. The force fields were potent defenses, but concentrated fire could still disrupt them momentarily, and the Mechanicum sought to locate and destroy as many of the generators as they could before they were activated.
The assault might have dragged out, becoming a bitter siege.
But that was not to be.
Even though the sky was cloudless, the Aetos Dios appeared in a flash of golden lightning, with a thunderclap that rolled across Bai-heng.
The sound brought joy to the defenders, reinvigorating them and strengthening their unity and resolve, even as the same sound struck fear into the hearts of the attackers, disrupting their focus and coordination.
The Mechanicum mothership immediately began to withdraw at the sight of Aetos Dios, but did not escape without damage as the Emperor's flagship opened fire, blasting away at the Mechanicum's vessel as it fled away into the higher atmosphere.
The smaller fighters began to run as well, but none of them escaped, unable to muster the mental coordination to do so as they were shot down.
The battle was over…but the war had only just begun.
In the aftermath of the Martian assault, Malcador called the Imperial High Council to discuss the matter.
The Emperor sat at the head of the table, his face shadowed by his long, dark hair. He was silent, but it was an oppressive silence, one that made everyone present keenly aware of his presence.
There was Captain-General Valdor, of course, standing behind his liege rather than taking a seat even though it was his by right.
Malcador himself sat at the Emperor's right, the Sigillite's eyes sweeping over the rest of the Council.
There were only four other seats, except the one left vacant by Valdor.
That was his own design, of course. While the Emperor tended to the work of conquest and research, of leading their armies across Terra, quelling the monsters that rampaged across its surface, gathering the loyalty of those they would need, and scavenging for lost technology, it was Malcador who had been given the task of organizing the empire, of building an administrative system.
Indeed, it had been his own empire that served as the core of the Imperium. Before the coming of the Emperor, the Sigillites had ruled the Himalazian Mountains and the surrounding regions, and Malcador had ruled the Sigillites. It had been a smaller and less powerful empire than the ones he had ruled before joining the Sigillites, but it had been an empire nevertheless, strong enough to survive and resist all attempts at invasion and conquest even amid the horror that Terra had become.
When the Emperor had at last returned to Terra after centuries of absence, it had been Malcador who had been the first to kneel and swear loyalty to the cause, to offer the resources of his empire to the Emperor's vision. His domain had become the core from which the Emperor's will spread, his armies had become the Emperor's armies and he had become the Emperor's right hand.
Few remembered this now, of course. It had been almost two centuries since then, and Malcador had taken great pains to shroud his past and enhance the mystique of his old friend. As far as most people were concerned, the Imperium had begun with the Emperor, and there had been nothing before him.
It was even true, from a certain point of view. The Emperor took a hands-off approach, but it was not as if he was a figurehead who abstained entirely from ruling in favour of conquest. It had been he who had revived Latin as High Gothic from his memories, penning the lexicon to suit his needs and serve as the Imperium's new official language. He had designed the imperial sigils, written much of the propaganda, and reorganized large sections of the empire to make them more efficient and serve his purposes better.
But the foundations…Malcador had laid them long ago. Even now, it was primarily his duty to manage the day-to-day business of ruling, though the Emperor had taken more of an active role in the last twenty years as Isha had given them more room to breathe, supplementing their efforts with unexpected resources and aid.
Malcador brushed aside the thought of the xeno goddess. Now was not the time to dwell upon her. No matter how much he mistrusted her or was frustrated by his old friend's faith in her, the fact remained that Isha was bound by a compact that limited her ability to harm the Imperium.
The far more serious concern was Mars.
The Lord Commander Militant, Kli-San Weia, was the first to speak. "Do we know how the Mechanicum's ships evaded all of our sensors?"
The Lord Commander was dark-haired and pale, a native of the Pacific region. He was short and a little unassuming, but he was astoundingly competent. He had been one of the Emperor's first generals, and had stood out for both his military skills and his brilliance at playing the political games of the nascent Imperium. Malcador had seen talent in the ambitious young man and took him under his patronage until Weia had risen through the ranks to become the top general in the Imperial Army.
And through the usage of juvenants, he still served after nearly a century. He had risen through the ranks to become one of the four High Lords some decades ago. Though in truth, his ascension had merely been a formalization rather than him being granted any new duties.
And his question was a good one.
Unfortunately, Malcador had no answers for him.
"We do not know," Malcador answered grimly. The sensors and warning systems had been designed by the Emperor himself, not even the Mechanicum should have been able to evade them outright.
Malcador waited a moment for the Emperor to say something, but the older man was silent, so he continued on his own. "The Terrawatt Clan is scrambling to analyze our systems for any mistakes and to update them accordingly, but it will take some time."
Though more worrying than the ability of the Mechanicum to evade technological sensors was the fact that neither he nor the Emperor had seen this coming. Malcador would freely admit that divination was something he had only the most basic grasp of, but the Emperor was far more skilled. The fact that the Lord of Terra had no inkling of the invasion had deeply worrying implications.
Noum Retravia was the next to speak. "Will we be ready when the next assault comes?" The Master of the Adminstratum was taller and at first glance more impressive than Weia, with a perfectly muscular physique and perfectly coiffed blonde hair. But Malcador knew that Retravia looked like that only because he had used his fantastic wealth, inherited from his family, to buy genetic augmentations. Nevertheless, Retravia was a shrewd and competent administrator and did his work well, rigorous in his efforts to accomplish every task set before him.
Then there was Pelops Dravagar, Chancellor of the Estate Imperium, a small, mousy looking man with brown hair and eyes. He was Retravia's creature…or so most people believed. In truth, Dravagar was one of Malcador's agents, who was there to spy on Retravia and make sure the Master of the Adminstratum never got it into his head that his personal enrichment came before the good of the Imperium.
Weia nodded curtly in response to Retravia's question. "Even if they evade our sensors again, all our air fleets are on full alert. As per the Emperor's command, the Aetos Dios and the Epona, are active and ready to defend us as needed."
"Do we know why the Mechanicum attacked us?" Grand Provost Marshal Uwoma Kawandire asked. Physically, she was the least assuming of the council. Of height with Weia, her dark skin was rough and leathery, and she was not in the best physical shape, being round.
But she was also perhaps the most reliable member of the Council. Unlike the other High Lords, Kawandire was an idealist at heart, who truly believed in the idea of equality for all before the law, and justice for everyone. It was why the Emperor had personally chosen her for the position, though she did not know it. While Kawandire was a little too idealistic to be let in on the full scale of their plans, Malcador's old friend appreciated her fervent belief and dedication to her ideals. And so it was that while the other High Lords had been chosen from amongst the Imperial aristocracy, the position of Grand Provost Marshal had been fulfilled by a refugee from Afrik.
"According to the reports my spies on Luna sent, it seems the Mechanicum has been alarmed by our abrupt progress these past few decades," Malcador said, steepling his fingers.
The High Lords all grimaced or scowled at the news, but none of them seemed surprised. They were all intelligent people and had suspected the same.
The Mechanicum had been the undisputed hegemon of the Sol System since the last remnants of the old Terran Union had collapsed in the late 28th Millennium. The Selenar Gene-Cults had briefly contested them for the position several centuries ago, but they had lost, and lost badly.
Martian raids had been common upon Terra before the rise of the Imperium, expeditions searching for relics of the old days, demanding tribute or simply raiding for slaves. Even after the Emperor returned and the Terrawatt Clan began building defenses under his guidance, the raids had only been pushed back, never truly ceasing.
Malcador himself had grudgingly paid tribute to the Mechanicum in the days of old, aware that even his psychic prowess and hoard of relics were not enough to withstand a full assault by the Mechanicum if they decided to crush him.
But that was the heart of the matter. A full-scale invasion by Mars was…unthinkable. It was true that unlike the barbaric warlords of Terra, the Tech-Priests of Mars were gathered under one banner. But that simply meant their disunity took a far more complex form than simple slaughter and conquest, full instead of byzantine politics and the trading of favours, knowledge, and artifacts.
The Mechanicum could have conquered all of Sol long ago, becoming direct masters instead of mere hegemons, but no Fabricator-General had ever mustered enough unity among the various cults to push them towards such an action.
And yet, it seemed Fabricator-General Kelbor-Hal had done exactly that. The ships that had raided Terra were only part of the squadron that had joined with Luna, and that in turn was not even the vanguard of the invasion Mars intended to launch.
All as a reaction to the Imperium's upward surge as a result of Isha's efforts.
Malcador opened his mouth to speak again, but before he could, the Emperor spoke at last.
"We must respond to Luna immediately. I will lead the strike myself. Prepare Epona, as well as the Legio Cataegis and Legiones Astartes. No effort is to be spared. Lord Commander Weia, Valdor will help you organize this assault."
Weia seemed a little startled, but inclined his head. "Of course, Your Majesty."
"You are all dismissed. Malcador, stay here."
The High Lords filtered out, clearly a little taken aback by the abrupt dismissal and how short the meeting had been, but none of them were willing to defy the Emperor. Valdor also left, joining the Lord Commander to plan the assault, leaving only the Emperor and Malcador alone.
The Emperor stood, his face becoming visible and when he spoke, it lacked the resonant edge it had before.
"Chaos is behind this."
Malcador grimaced and nodded. "Yes. They are the only ones who could blind you."
The Emperor began pacing, his features creasing in a frown. "I thought I had made some progress at piercing the veil they had placed over my farsight, but clearly, I was wrong. There are only a handful of Chaos Daemons who could blind me so thoroughly. Kairos, Bel'akor…and Vashtorr."
The last word was spat like venom, filled with more hatred and contempt than usual. The Emperor despised all creatures of Chaos, but with Vashtorr, it was deeply personal.
Not that Malcador could blame him.
"Could Vashtorr truly blind you so? I did not think he was a sorcerer."
The Emperor grunted sourly. "Vashtorr is not a sorcerer on par with Kairos or Bel'akor, true. But he has enslaved many Daemons of Tzeentch to his will, and there are many hidden secrets in the Forge of Souls. He is the least likely candidate, but I cannot discount that he has built something which can blind me, especially given that he would have an interest in the Mechanicum."
Malcador nodded grimly.
The Emperor stopped in his pacing and turned to face Malcador, his form shrinking until they were of the same height, eye to eye. "Old friend, we have had our disagreements recently, but if Chaos truly sinks its claws into the Mechanicum…it would be disastrous. I must know, are you still with me? I cannot do this without you."
Malcador let out a raspy laugh. "Do you even have to ask? Of course, I am. I am, and always will be, on your side."
It was the truth. For all his doubts, Malcador still truly, wholeheartedly believed in the Emperor's vision.
There was no one else in this galaxy who could save humanity and defeat Chaos.
As much as the Emperor's growing friendship with Isha alarmed Malcador, and he believed it necessary to stem it…that did not mean he was going to rush off half-cocked and abandon the man to whom he owed almost everything.
The Emperor smiled, relief shining in his golden-brown eyes.
"Thank you, Malcador."
Author's Note: This chapter draws heavily from Valdor: Birth of the Imperium for the structure of the Imperial government at this stage, as well as the identities of the High Lords.
There are other materials which state the High Lords weren't established as an institution until after Ullanor, but the way Birth of the Imperium portrayed it was most convenient for me, so that's what I went with.
Here's an invite code for my Discord: w3TyHvnh
And if any of you have any interest in Worm or DC, please consider checking out my newest project, Thunder of the Gods. You can find it on my profile.