Cainopolis rejoiced, for the Liberator had returned in triumph.
The entire city, it seemed, had come out to meet its victorious heroes. The side-walks were packed with thousands of civilians, who cheered the troopers of the United Slawkenberg Army as they marched past, walking in perfect parade formation.
Atop the Lord of War, greatest of the warmachines crafted by the Bringers of Renewed Greatness, sat Cain himself, smiling and waving to the adoring masses. Seeing the Liberator hale and hearty was a relief to all, for though none doubted his martial prowess, the mere idea of losing the one who had delivered them from the Imperium's tyranny was more than they could bear.
Next to him, clad in crimson armor and holding a great chainaxe, was a veritable giant of a man. According to the rumors which were already spreading through the crowds, he had been found on the doorstep of the evil which had sought to devour Adumbria, wounded to the very edge of death after trying to stop it with his slain comrades. The Bringers' ministrations and the wonders of the Panacea had then restored him to health just in time for him to fight alongside the USA against the Infected. Footage of his prowess had been sent ahead of the fleet which had carried the victorious heroes home, and its popularity was second only to that of the Liberator's own exploits.
There had long been stories of the Angels of Death on Slawkenberg : the previous regime hadn't shied from using them as threats, claiming that their fury would descend upon all who dared rebel against the Giorbas' divinely appointed rule. In the years since the Uprising, however, new legends had begun to circulate, speaking of how some of these Angels had turned against the Imperium after seeing its corruption.
Now the Liberator had returned from a just and righteous war against the forces of rot and decay with one such angel at his side. Those who followed the warrior creed prevalent in the Unified Slawkenberg Army recognized the icons of the War God painted on the warrior's armor, and rejoiced that such a champion of their patron now stood at the Liberator's side.
Today had been declared a public holiday by the Liberation Council, so that all but the most vital of workers could go out and celebrate. Over the next few days, the fallen would be buried with all due honors, in ceremonies attended by the entire Liberation Council and led by preachers of each of Slawkenberg's major creeds, to ensure that their spirits found the peace they deserved.
Yes, tomorrow there would be time to mourn. But today, Slawkenberg rejoiced.
As the sun set over the day of the expedition's triumphant return, Jafar met the Liberator on a small balcony with an unimpeded view of the capital. Cain's aide had already poured a cup of recaf for the Chief Clerk when he arrived, with precisely the dosage of cream and sugar he preferred, and Malicia was also present, of course. But apart from these two, they were alone : while the knowledge Jafar was to deliver would no doubt end up being shared to the rest of the Council, for now only those present would know the full picture he'd uncovered.
And by all the hidden names of Tzeentch, what a wondrous and terrible picture it was.
"So, Jafar," asked Cain. "What did you find out ?"
"It took a lot of effort, and the interrogation of multiple daemons, but we have managed to uncover the child's origins. They are … fascinating, to say the least. I honestly believe you should be sitting down for this, Lord Liberator."
The Liberator raised an eyebrow, but still sat on one of the comfortable chairs which had been dragged on the balcony. In the great scheme of things, it was a minor thing, but Jafar still appreciated the simple fact that Cain was willing to follow small advice like that. Even after more than a decade, it was a pleasant contrast from the people he'd worked for prior to the Uprising.
"What do you know about the Imperium's Assassins ?" Jafar asked once the Liberator was sat.
"Oh, I already don't like where this is going," groaned the Liberator. "To answer your question, not much. I was taught that they exist, are deployed against those who really tick off the High Lords, and supposedly never fail. Of course, even back then, I already found that last bit doubtful."
"An accurate summary," allowed Jafar. There had been no reason for the Imperium's slave trainers of the Schola Progenia to teach him anything more, after all. "In truth, even our divinations didn't reveal a lot : the whole organization's past and present are protected by anti-scrying wards of incredible potency."
Which couldn't possibly have been created without the efforts of numerous and powerful psykers with extensive training in the arcane arts and access to the kind of occult lore Jafar and his brethren could only dream of. Once again, the Imperium's hypocrisy was all too obvious.
"That's to be expected," remarked Cain. "They wouldn't be able to do their jobs if anyone having access to divination could predict their actions."
"Indeed. Still, while the organization itself is protected, the echoes of its deeds aren't. We did manage to find out that there are different branches of the order, called Temples, each specializing in a particular method of elimination, ranging from the undetectable to the very obvious, depending on what best serves the High Lords' interests. These Temples have existed since the organization's founding, and have killed untold numbers of people in their blind service to the High Lords."
Given that the Assassins were supposedly bound to the will of the High Lords of Terra, and that presumably those tyrannical monsters had lots of demands on their time, one might have thought the Officio would be deployed only rarely. And yet, the sheer amount of bloodshed Jafar's auguries had revealed indicated that either the High Lords were very, very liberal with the use of their hired knives, or the Imperium's ultimate slavemasters were far from being the only ones who could afford the Officio's services.
Jafar wasn't sure which option was worse.
"That's all very interesting, especially since there's the possibility the Imperium will use them against us at some point. But how does this all relate to the girl ?" asked the Liberator.
"Patience, my lord," Jafar jokingly chided. "I am getting to it. Over a thousand years ago, a faction within the Assassins sought to create a more efficient method of eliminating their targets. In essence, they sought to create a brand new Temple, one whose Assassins would be able to kill not just a single individual, but entire groups, despite the fact that any successive kills become more difficult as the targets are now aware of the Assassin's existence."
"That's not an assassination, that's a purge," Cain pointed out. "Don't the High Lords have Space Marines for that ?"
Jafar shrugged. "I am fairly certain there was a certain degree of inter-branches rivalry involved in the whole thing. And I am absolutely certain that Assassins were deployed against Space Marine commanders in the past."
"Of course there were," muttered the Liberator, rightfully disgusted by the Imperium's murderous infighting. "Continue, please."
"They called this the Maerorus Temple, and poured an obscene amount of resources into making it a reality. They recruited some of the finest genetors of the Adeptus Mechanicus, and provided them with genetic material from a variety of species, including obscure xenos breeds, in order to create a hybrid that would function as a literal living weapon," explained Jafar. "The Maerorus Assassins were meant to be deployed without any equipment, because their own bodies were all the weaponry they needed, and they could assimilate the biomass of their victims to grow more dangerous with every kill."
"That … that sounds remarkably like the Tyranids' ability to endlessly adapt and create new bioforms from the biomass they devour," Cain frowned. "Except you said the Temple was created a thousand years ago, and the Hive-Fleets were only discovered in the 700s."
"I think in this case, the superficial resemblance might genuinely be a coincidence," said Jafar. "After all, Legienstrasse's abilities worked on herself, and were nigh-instantaneous, which was what made her such a deadly fighter. But I cannot be certain. The Assassinorum was extremely thorough in covering their tracks : no one outside of their order knew of the project's existence until their first success, a being called Legienstrasse, escaped her conditioning and broke free."
"Of course she did," groaned the Liberator. "Really, what did these morons think was going to happen ? Their hypno-training machines would all have been calibrated for purely human brains, not whatever it was they ended up creating."
"I imagine that fear of reprisal played a big part in the whole disaster," suggested Jafar. "Until Legienstrasse herself, their tech-priests wouldn't have had any way of testing whether their undoubtedly customized hypno-training devices could work on the still-theoretical Maerorus Assassins. But they might have felt it unsafe to tell that to the Officio."
"You're probably right," sighed Cain. "Go on, tell me what happened once Legienstrasse broke free – though I think I can guess."
Indeed, it didn't take someone of the Liberator's intellect to predict how that particular tale ended.
"She slaughtered her creators and escaped, setting off a chase across the stars that lasted for decades until she was cornered on a remote world named Opis. There, she bound the local aristocracy into her service, along with numerous powerful servants of the Gods, to the point that when the Assassins found her again they had to engineer a full war just to get her exposed."
And what a war it had been. The powers that had been leashed by the Officio and usurped by Legienstrasse had been such that Jafar could only compare them to the Lady Emeli herself, vessels of the Gods' blessings whose deeds had shaken the foundations of entire worlds.
The fact that they still hadn't been enough was a sobering reminder of the terrifying potency that the Imperium, for all its crippling flaws, yet possessed.
"In the end, Legienstrasse was killed by the Imperial Fists, though not without exacting a fearsome tally. All the daemons with which we communed believed that her progeny had perished with her, but when you defeated Gurug'ath and freed the child from Nurgle, she was revealed to them as being the last of them, salvaged from her mother's defeat at the last moment and kept hidden from all until she was brought back to the Materium on Adumbria."
"Where her unique biology was used by that thrice-damned bastard Adrien to create the plague," finished Cain. "That explains what Basileus-Zeta found when studying it."
"Exactly. The plague could endlessly adapt and reshape the flesh of its host, just like Legienstrasse could reshape her own biomass in whatever way she desired. Of course, like everything touched by Decay, that ability was only a pitiful shadow of the original."
There was a moment of silence as the Liberator considered what Jafar had just revealed to him. The follower of Tzeentch couldn't help but feel excited, wondering what decision Cain would make. It was always a joy to see such a master schemer at work.
"You will not spread this information to anyone," Cain said at last. "The Protectorate cannot handle the Assassinorum coming after us to hide their past mistakes at this time. I trust you to use whatever means required to ensure the silence of your people, without taking it too far."
"As you wish." It made perfect sense : given what Jafar had learned of the Opis Campaign, it was obvious the Assassins had no sense of restraint whatsoever when it came to keeping their failures from being revealed. "And what of the child herself ?"
"The Assassins made the same mistake with Legienstrasse the Schola made with me," mused Cain. "They assumed that their brainwashing methods would be enough to control her, because those methods worked on them. It is really quite horrifying, don't you think ? Brainwashed agents taking orders from brainwashed superiors, and taking murderers to be brainwashed into more effective murderers, all following precepts that were written ten thousand years ago, with Gods know what mistakes and glitches slipped in over the centuries."
Jafar shivered at hearing it put so plainly. The Liberator, as always, was correct. The Officio Assassinorum was a grotesque instrument of tyranny, made up and maintained by slaves too broken to even realize they were slaves. Without free will, without the ability to think for themselves and argue with one another, it was all too easy to imagine how the Maerorus project had been allowed to proceed despite the many, many flaws in its very premise.
In any sane organization, the idea would never have made it past the drawing board, if even that. But in the Officio, there had been nothing to hold it back, nobody with the wit to stand up to their superiors and point out how monumentally stupid and dangerous the whole thing was.
"However, the girl is innocent of any of that," continued Cain. "And I will not blame her for the sins of her mother, or those of her mother's creators."
"Even so, she is no ordinary child," Jafar pointed out. "I do not know how much of Legienstrasse's abilities she inherited, or how her time in Nurgle's captivity and subsequent exposure to the Panacea affected what she did inherit, but that much is obvious."
"Then it is fortunate there are so many extraordinary people on Slawkenberg who can help her grow up as a stable and happy individual," replied the Liberator with a small smile, before turning away to look at the sunset. "Legienstrasse turned on her makers because she wanted to be free, instead of being used as a weapon. We will give her daughter that freedom, just as we give it to all those under the banner of Liberation."
"And she will make a powerful ally once she grows up," mused Jafar, before freezing where he stood.
The Liberator was glaring at him. His face was pale with fury, and his eyes cold as death. Not since the days of the Uprising, when Cain had emerged from the transport bringing him back from his confrontation with Caesariovi Giorba, had Jafar seen the Liberator like this.
"She will be whatever she wishes to be," Cain growled between gritted teeth, "and nothing else. There will be no pressuring her, no manipulating her, no indoctrinating her into thinking her powers, whatever they are, are the only thing of value about her. Am I understood, Jafar ?"
"Yes," Jafar squeaked, painfully aware of Jurgen and Malicia staring at him too, and of how none of his sorcerous protections would protect him from either of them for long. "Yes, my lord. A thousand apologies, I spoke without thinking –"
"Yes, you did," the Liberator cut him off. "We will not speak of this again. Now go. I will see you tomorrow at the funeral."
His heart pummelling in his chest, Jafar bowed and beat a hasty retreat, only realizing he had brought his recaf cup with him once he was halfway across the palace. Deciding it might help calm his nerves, he raised it with trembling fingers and drank slowly.
He knew where he'd misstepped, of course. Looking back, it was obvious. Of course Cain wouldn't agree with anything that even remotely resembled his own treatment by the Imperium. How stupid of Jafar to forget.
He'd have to remember that in the future, because while Cain was willing to tolerate a lot from his subordinates, clearly Jafar had found the line that, if crossed, would finally make him turn his prodigious power on them.
It had been a long day.
After riding though the streets smiling and waving at everyone, I had been forced to make another bloody speech, although by now I had enough experience it had gone like a charm. I had rambled about the duty we all had to assist our fellow humans who had been abandoned by the cruel and callous Imperium, about the threat of Decay and its servants, and the valor displayed by the USA and those who had made the ultimate sacrifice.
I had pointedly not mentioned my own against Gurug'ath, both because I still felt uncomfortable thinking about it and because I knew appearing to downplay my own achievements would only increase my undeserved reputation for leading from the front and taking on the greatest challenges even more.
The plebs and soldiers alike had lapped it up. I would probably have to give another one tomorrow at the ceremony in honor of those who, despite the power armor and Panacea, had died in the Cleansing of Skitterfall. The USA total casualties for the deployment were a frankly absurdly low number, given the opposition we had faced, but I knew that would mean little to their families and friends, and appearing not to care about them could plant seeds of resentment that could, in time, blossom into attempts to kill the one they thought was responsible (and since I was the one with my face on the pict-screens the most often, it would probably be me).
All in all, I had already been feeling tired when Jafar had dropped his findings on me with all the subtlety of an artillery shell. So, after Jafar left, I finished my recaf and returned to my quarters, where I promptly collapsed on my bed.
Between Hektor's history lessons and this, the more I learned about the Imperium's past the more it seemed the whole thing was trying to self-destruct in the most spectacular way possible. What the frak had the Assassins been thinking ?!
I had no choice but to hope what I had told Jafar would turn out to be true, and make damn sure that the biological abomination I had brought back to Slawkenberg didn't have any reason to hate me when she grew up. Considering what Jafar had said at the end of our exchange, it was clear that I'd have to raise her myself. I couldn't trust anyone on this whole planet to do it in a way that wouldn't create a threat to the Imperium – and, more immediately concerning, to everyone living on Slawkenberg, me included – that surpassed my worst nightmares.
It did mean I would spend time near someone who could kill me instantly any time she so decided, but really, what was one more at that point ?
I would make the announcement the day after the funerals. The images of me emerging from the crumbling gubernatorial palace with her in my arms had already spread across Slawkenberg, but I'd ordered everyone involved in watching over her to stay silent until I learned what the Tzeentchians had found out. I wouldn't even have to lie : I could honestly say that we'd found her at the heart of the Nurglite corruption on Adumbria, a baby used by the servants of Decay to fuel their vile works, and whom we'd saved using the Panacea.
A miracle child, rescued from the very pit of Hell and given a new chance at life. As I dwelled on that thought with morbid amusement, I was struck by the realization that I needed to come up with a name for the girl, too, if I didn't want her to think she was being treated as a tool or a weapon. She couldn't just be called Legienstrasse, that was guaranteed to bring the Assassins to my doorstep with pointed words and pointier blades.
After spending entirely too much time thinking about it and browsing several tomes from my suite's bookshelves (which, considering what I knew of its previous occupants, likely hadn't been read in generations, despite the absence of dust which spoke to the cleaners' diligence), I finally decided : the daughter of Legienstrasse, first and last member of the Maerorus Temple, would be called Zerayah Cain.
The Retribution-Class battleship Throne Eternal hung in orbit above Coronus. For all its majesty, the scars of the recent battle it had fought against the Hive-Fleet were all too visible : entire decks had been abandoned due to the damage the xenos bioships had inflicted.
Through the observation window, Inquisitor Amberley Vail (most would call her Lady Inquisitor these days, but she still thought of herself as 'simply' another Inquisitor) could glimpse the rest of the fleet which had barely managed to save the world of Corania from the maw of the Great Devourer. There were over two scores of Navy vessels, along with strike cruisers belonging to the Bone Knives and Reclaimers Astartes Chapters and a small flotilla of the Adeptus Mechanicus.
The victory at Corania had been hard-fought. What had begun as a mere clean-up of a Genestealer Cult, for which the gathered strength of the Panacea Cabal had been ludicrous overkill, had become a desperate battle for survival the moment the Hive-Fleet had arrived. In the end, it had only been a daring boarding action by the Space Marines which had disturbed the Hive-Mind long enough for the Imperial forces to gain the upper hand and defeat the main swarms on the planet while the xenos fleet was defeated in the void.
Amberley's days of going undercover to expose the xenos cults seeking to undermine the fabric of the Imperium were well and truly past her at this point. These days, she was forced to delegate such work to her operatives. She missed the thrill of it, but knew that she could best serve the Imperium by making sure the Panacea STC was spread across as many worlds and used to benefit as many loyal citizens as possible.
The battle of Corania had provided them with the opportunity to test the Panacea on individuals infested by the Genestealers, and the results had been very promising. As they'd hoped, the Panacea could purge the xenos taint from implanted individuals, freeing them from the brood mind, although the psychological scars of being violated in such a way remained. However, the Panacea could do nothing for the born hybrids, regardless of their generation. According to Magos Lazurus, the Tyranid genes were part of their natural state of being, so the Panacea merely healed them of any injuries or sickness, like it did for the transhuman Space Marines (not that Amberley would ever have compared the Astartes to Genestealer Hybrids, of course).
"Lady Inquisitor," a gruff voice called out. "They are all ready to meet you."
"Thank you, Ruput."
Major (formerly Captain) Ruput Broklaw was the highest-ranking survivor of the Valhallan 301st, a crack planetary assault unit which had been badly mauled by the Tyranids. Impressed by their bravery, and more importantly their martial skills, Amberley had decided to recruit the survivors of the Regiment directly into her service. She needed additional firepower she could rely upon, and the 301st were fiercely loyal to the Imperium and dedicated to her, since she'd gone personally onto the planet in her suit of power armor along with the reinforcements which had kept them from being wiped out and devoured by the Tyranid swarm.
Given who ran the Militarum in the Damocles Gulf these days, she had no doubt she'd get away with it.
As Amberley made her way to the meeting room, she found her psyker fidgeting in the corridor, clearly waiting for her.
"What is it, Rakel ?" she asked gently.
"The sickness is screaming in pain and fury," she replied with an expression of utmost seriousness on her face. "The shadow has defeated it, claimed the abandoned crossroad, and rescued the child of the seventh house."
"I see," said Amberley, lying through her teeth with practiced ease. Sometimes, the psyker's ramblings were understandable, and other times, they only made sense much later. This, it seemed, was the latter case. She'd have to see if Mott could make sense of it once the meeting was over.
"Go get some rest for now," she told the psyker, before walking into the meeting room.
There, waiting for her, were Lord General Zyvan, who had settled in as the supreme Militarum commander of the Damocles Gulf; Captain Gries of the Reclaimers and Chapter Master Khetep of the Bone Knives Space Marine Chapters; Admiral Jaymstea Flynt of Battlefleet Damocles; and Magos Lazurus, representative of the Mechanicus elements which had been informed of the Panacea's existence.
The Bone Knives and Reclaimers had been brought into the fold by being given copies of the Panacea STC along with samples of the final product, despite their kind's reluctance for all this cloak-and-dagger business. The decrease in battlefield casualties this had caused had convinced them of the importance of providing this technology to the rest of the Imperium, regardless of what entrenched powers might say. The Reclaimers in particular supported the cabal's agenda with enthusiasm, both because of their tight bond with the Mechanicus and because of how vital the Panacea had proven to their efforts in the Viridia Campaign.
The Chapter Master's armor, painted in the same magenta color as all Bone Knives', had been recently cleaned and polished, but the damage from boarding the Tyranid bioship was still visible. No doubt the Chapter's Techmarines had been too busy directing the repairs of the ships to have the time to perform more than the most basic maintenance (that, or Khetep had deliberately held from removing the traces of battle before this meeting as some kind of power play). Gries' own battleplate, painted in the white and yellow of his brotherhood, was in a similar state, the two of them having fought side-by-side at the turning point of Corania's defense.
Admiral Jaymstea Flynt was considered something of a maverick in Battlefleet Damocles. A scion of one of the many families which made up the bulk of the Navy's officer corps, he had spent decades stuck at his current rank due to being absolutely uninterested in playing the games of politics which were required to advance anywhere past a certain rank in any Imperial organization.
But for all his habit of playing the fool, there was no denying his skill at void warfare. It had been his daring manoeuvres at Corania which had given the Space Marines the opportunity to board the Hive Ship, and then to defeat the xenos fleet without sacrificing his entire Navy battlegroup in the process. And the crews of the ships under his command absolutely loved him, a love he either genuinely returned or went to great lengths to appear to (Amberley wasn't sure which yet, but she would find out eventually, for curiosity's sake if nothing else).
Compared to the Guard and Space Marines, the Navy had comparatively less to gain from the generalisation of Panacea use, but 'less' didn't mean 'none', far from it. Life aboard a starship was dangerous at the best of time, let alone during battle, and thousands of injured crewmen had been saved and returned to their duties thanks to the Panacea following the void-battle of Corania. Since there was no way of hiding how this medical miracle had happened, Amberley had decided she might as well bring Flynt on board. The Admiral had been utterly delighted to be made part of the Panacea Conspiracy; partly, Amberley suspected, because he enjoyed the excitement and intrigue of it.
It would have been easier to have this meeting by hololith, but also easier for it to be intercepted by hostile parties. This room, randomly selected among those available aboard the Throne Eternal, was as secure as they were going to get.
"Gentlemen," Amberley said as she took her seat – as the founder and nominal head of the Panacea Cabal, she sat at the head of the large conference table. "Thank you all for being here. Now, let us begin. Admiral, what is the status of the fleet ?"
"It needs repairs, a lot of them," replied Flynt without hesitation. "Half the ships need a complete dry dock and refit before I'd take them anywhere someone might shoot at them, and the rest could do with a few months in the care of the tech-priests but can still sail and fight."
"Nothing we didn't expect, then," said Amberley. "Lord General, what about the situation in the rest of the Sector, now that our astropaths have recovered from the Tyranids' shadow ?"
"The war against the Tau isn't going well, that much hasn't changed," said Zyvan grimly. "It's a meat grinder, and one that's taking valuable resources away from other fronts."
Gravalax's position at the end of the Imperial supply lines had allowed the Tau to bring their own assets to bear much more easily than they could. The planet itself was little more than a pile of rubble by now, not that it had been worth much to begin with. And while they were busy trying to salvage the situation on that front, the wily xenos had sent feelers across the entire borders to take advantage of their weakened presence.
Unfortunately, they couldn't just let the Tau take Gravalax and the rest of the border systems. In addition to being an affront to the God-Emperor, it would leave the rest of the Imperial territories in this galactic region unacceptably exposed.
"I have had our diplomatic corps reach out to the Tau Empire and explain that the whole Gravalax debacle was the result of a Genestealer Cult's plot, but without success," said Amberley. "The Tau have had little experience with such infiltrations themselves, and they think we're lying to cover up the fact it was one of our Governors who shot their Ambassador and started this mess."
Which, to be fair, was absolutely the kind of thing the Imperium would have claimed in an attempt to manipulate the ignorant newcomers to the galactic scene. It was just that, in this particular instance, that was the actual truth. If that traitorous, xenos-touched bastard Grice hadn't died long ago during the purges which had followed one of the Imperium's short-lived recaptures of Gravalax, Amberley would have gleefully executed him herself.
"Even if they believed us, it would change nothing," said Gries. "The xenos are notorious opportunists. The Gravalax incident merely gave them the justification they were looking for to invade without seeming to be the aggressors, in order for their propaganda to sway the weak-minded among the population of the worlds they steal from us."
"You're right, Captain," sighed the Inquisitor. "We'll just have to tough it out and hope the Tau run out of steam before they do too much damage."
That the Imperium could outlast the upstart xenos wasn't in question. They had their own informants within the Tau Empire – their very philosophies made them worryingly easy to infiltrate – and knew that for all their advanced techno-sorcery, the Tau were still only a minor power in the grand scheme of things, contained to a fraction of the Eastern Fringe, whereas the Master of Mankind's dominion stretched across the galaxy entire.
"In other news," she continued, "I've received astropathic word from my operatives on Periremunda. With the help of Captain Gries' battle-brothers, they managed to locate Killian's lab and destroy it. It turned out he was taking refuge inside a Sororitas convent of all things, lying to them about the nature of his work. Unfortunately," she grimaced, "while they got Metheius, Killian himself managed to escape with the artefact."
"That is unfortunate," said Zyvan. "Do we know what exactly that renegade was working on, at least ?"
"Most of Metheius' research was destroyed alongside the heretek himself," buzzed Lazurus, who had received the same reports she had through his own agents within the investigation team. "We do know, however, that it involved working with a small local Chaos cult."
"Oh, brilliant," groaned the Lord General. "Do you think he'll make a run for Slawkenberg ?"
"It is possible," admitted Amberley, although she had trouble imagining Cain entertaining the mad delusions of a Radical like Killian for long. Besides, Killian's particular brand of insanity was all about using any means necessary to destroy all followers of Chaos, and she could only hope Killian wasn't so far gone he'd hand over whatever it was he and Metheius had been working on to someone as dangerous as the Liberator.
"I am sorry to interrupt," asked Admiral Flynt, "but who are you talking about ?"
Right, he hadn't been part of the Cabal when she'd explained this before. Amberley gave the Admiral a brief summary, editing all the bits Flynt didn't need to know without even needing to think about it.
Years ago (while Amberley was enjoying the dubious hospitality of Archon Vileheart, in fact), a joint research facility of the Ordo Xenos and the Mechanicus on Perlia had been ransacked, its entire crew slaughtered and the invaluable artefacts being studied there stolen. It had taken years of investigation by her operatives while she was busy with trying to bring the wonders of the Panacea to the Imperium, but eventually she had figured out what had happened.
Metheius, one of the tech-priests working in the facility, had gone mad after spending too much time working on unravelling the secrets of ancient xenotech, an all too frequent professional hazard, and contacted one of Amberley's less-than-sane peers (also an all too frequent professional hazard) in order to pursue his own radical interpretation of the artefact's possible uses.
Ernst Stavros Killian, the member of the Ordo Hereticus in question, had tried to get the project passed under his control, and when the rest of the Damocles Conclave had rejected his request, decided that the only logical course of action left was to have over a hundred faithful servants of the Golden Throne brutally murdered in order to steal the artefact. How he had thought nobody would suspect him was, frankly, beyond Amberley's understanding. The Damocles Conclave had immediately summoned him, and when he'd failed to respond, branded him Excommunicate Diabolus.
Because Amberley was still a member of the Ordo Xenos, who had initially sponsored the research on Perlia, and one of the most junior Inquisitors in the Sector, she had been saddled with the task of finding the renegade and bringing him to justice. Since she didn't want her peers to realize how busy she was with the Panacea just yet, she'd had no choice but to graciously accept this honor.
Fortunately, her growing network of allies had given her more options on how to hunt Killian down, as well as the ability to call on a couple squads of Space Marines when her Acolytes had finally found him. And a good thing to, because if not for the presence of the Reclaimers to awe the Sisters of Battle enough for them to realize they had been deceived and used by a renegade, things would undoubtedly have turned ugly. As it was, the sisters of the Order of the White Rose on Periremunda had needed to be talked out of committing ritual suicide to atone for their unwitting participation in Killian's schemes.
"I see," said Flynt once Amberley was done bringing him up to speed. "This is … I confess, I had no idea the Inquisition was so fractious."
"That's very much on purpose," replied Amberley. "Keeping up the pretence of unity is more or less the only thing everyone agrees upon, since showing the cracks supposedly weakens the authority of the whole thing."
"Then why tell us this ?" asked the Admiral, not unreasonably.
Because using the assets of the Panacea Cabal meant she had to explain why she needed them in the first place. The rest of the Ordos weren't going to be happy she was sharing the Inquisition's dirty laundry with outsiders, but frankly, she didn't care. To her own dismay, the more she worked to bring the Panacea to Mankind, the more she was beginning to think Cain had a point with his disapproval of the way the Imperium ran things
As an Inquisitor, she technically outranked everyone else in the room, even Khetep, but pulling rank on them would never have brought them as far as they were now. The simple truth was that you could get a lot more of people long-term by treating them with common courtesy than by threatening them with unspeakable torment at the slightest perceived failure.
And besides, Amberley felt she was already keeping enough secrets as it was. After several years of stringing them along, Amberley had finally learned the name of the group of ancient Inquisitors she had stumbled upon before being abducted by Drukhari. They called themselves the Concilium Ravus, and together its members were a powerful block in the Damocles Conclave.
Amberley still had no idea what had caused them to band together despite their wildly varying expertises and ideologies, however, and had been forced to be very cautious in her investigations, lest the misunderstanding that had led them to accept her within her ranks be exposed. From what little contact she'd had with the other members since that first accidental meeting (most often trading them copies of the Panacea STC or stocks of the stuff itself for favors or information), they still thought her to be the proxy of the Inquisitor whose seat she'd taken.
She had no idea who that mysterious Inquisitor was, or what he or she would think if they ever returned and found out what she had supposedly done in her name. Hopefully, should that ever happen, her position would be strong enough that it wouldn't matter.
Of course, she couldn't say any of that to Flynt. The existence of the Concilium Ravus was something she had kept secret from the rest of the Panacea Cabal, lest she drew the ire of its members upon her allies. From what she'd gleaned, only a few Inquisitors of the Damocles Conclave even suspected the existence of the Concilium.
"Because I don't believe that pretending a problem doesn't exist will solve it," she replied instead. "And also because I trust everyone in this room to keep this to themselves."
The 'or else' wasn't spoken aloud, but everyone in the room heard it clearly all the same.
"In any case, there is little we can do on the matter at this moment," declared Khetep. "Once he is found once more, we'll deal with him, and if he has allied himself with the Slawkenberg heretics, then we shall crush them both. Until then, we have more pressing concerns to address while Inquisitor Vail's agents continue the hunt. "
"Indeed," said Lazurus. "The events of Corania have rendered continuing to conceal the existence of the Panacea a futile exercise."
True. Until now, the output of the Imperial Panacea production facilities had been mostly used on the same planet where it was produced, and the isolation of every Imperial world had helped keep things quiet. Furthermore, the only Guardsmen (who, unlike the immense majority of Imperial subjects, travelled from one star system to another until they died) to have benefited from the Panacea had been located in Militarum hospices, which were hardly the most public of locations.
But with how much it had been used on Corania, coupled with the fact that they had needed to withdraw to Coronus, where billions of Guardsmen passed on their way to other warzones, word would inevitably spread if it hadn't already. And while some of Amberley's colleagues might not have hesitated to execute every trooper and mark them as lost in battle against the Tyranids, Amberley wasn't going to do that, Throne have mercy.
"What do the rest of you think ?" she asked.
"I'm all for going public myself," shrugged Zyvan. "I understand it's going to get us a lot of attention we'd rather do without, but it was always going to happen eventually. By now, there're enough copies of the STC spread around that nothing short of the will of the Emperor Himself could pin that particular angel back to the heavens. Everyone in this room might get killed by the morons who'll try to anyway, sure, but the Imperium at large will still benefit."
"The Lord General is correct," said Gries, "though I feel he overstates the risks. With the possibility of monopolizing the secrets of the Panacea lost, any such selfish individuals will instead seek to acquire them for themselves so as not to be left behind. My Chapter is ready to send an envoy with another copy to Maccrage : once the Ultramarines are made aware of the benefits of this technology, they will make sure to spread it among their Successor Chapters."
And since those Chapters made up a good portion of all Space Marines in the galaxy, the benefit to the Imperium would be immense and impossible to roll back.
"At that point," continued the Reclaimer, "the only source of trouble will be the original STC. Which, as before, I believe should be sent to Mars, both for safe-keeping and to get it off your hands before you get yourself killed because of it, Inquisitor."
"How remarkably direct, Captain," Amberley chuckled.
Not that Gries was wrong, of course. While the existence of the Panacea STC was still kept a secret from the galaxy at large, there were still many outside the Cabal who had learned of its existence, and there had been numerous attempts to steal it from Amberley, even while there were copies of its contents far easier to acquire.
"While such a course of action would be the most convenient for us," intervened Lazurus, "I estimate non-negligible odds that sending the STC to Sacred Mars will result in the very internal conflicts we wish to avoid occurring there instead of here. Is this a choice we dare to make ?"
There was a moment of silence as they all considered the dreadful possibility. Then Khetep spoke up :
"There is … another option. One that I hesitated to bring up, but which would ensure the STC ends up serving the Emperor's will with as little internal conflict as possible in these circumstances. As Chapter Master, I have access to certain channels to the Throneworld."
Amberley raised an eyebrow. The dilemma posed by Lazurus was precisely why she hadn't already sent the STC to the Red Planet years ago, and hearing of a possible way out of that conundrum was of great interest to her.
"Who exactly are you talking about, Chapter Master ?"
There were millions, if not billions of astropathic messages sent to Holy Terra daily, as befitted its position as the Imperium's heart, brain, and soul. Every Imperial organization worth the name was based in the Sol system, if not on the Throneworld itself. She could only guess which one Khetep was referring to.
Then he told them, and she had to admit it made perfect sense in hindsight. After all, who better to ensure that the Master of Mankind's will be done in this matter than His very own Custodes ?
Alone in his quarters aboard His Righteous Punishment, Ernst Stavros Killian fumed with impotent fury. So much work, all gone to waste because of interfering, dogmatic fools, too blind to see that, through His divine guidance, they had at last uncovered the key to turning the tide of the endless struggle against Chaos.
He had lost Metheius, most of the magos' research, the loyalty of the Order of the White Rose and the facilities hidden beneath their convent, and even the steady supply of test subjects the Covenant of the Blessed had provided. They had been so close, Metheius had assured him. With every test, they had gotten a little closer to perfecting the process, closer to their ultimate goal of an army of invincible psykers, soul-bond to the Golden Throne, bringing ruin upon His foes.
He sighed. At least he still had the Shadowlight. That was all that really mattered, he told himself. Everything else could be replaced, but there was only one psychic enhancer. And the self-destruct he had set up while escaping would keep his pursuers from realizing the true scope of his work until it was too late.
For now, it was time to withdraw, regroup, and rebuild. Looking at a map of the Damocles Gulf, he considered his options. There were dozens of small, isolated worlds which could theoretically suit his needs, but he needed to be careful. His enemies were still on his trail, and any slip-up would bring them down on him.
His gaze stopped on Torredon. A whole Subsector wracked by numerous Warp storms, its relative isolation from the rest of the Imperium made even worse by the recent loss of the Adumbria system. There were sure to be plenty of latent psykers hiding among the ranks of the shadow cartels which preyed upon the Subsector's few stable shipping lanes, and he still had enough resources stored away in safe locations to buy his way into a position of influence within one of the cartels. His own activities would be all but impossible to uncover amidst the mess of corruption and crime which ran rampant through the Subsector.
It would take time, and playing nice with such outlaw scum would rankle, but he could bear it. Yes, this would do nicely. He stood up, and went to inform the captain of His Righteous Punishment to change their heading to the Torredon Gap.
Hopefully, his master would understand and forgive him for the delay.
AN : No, I don't know how I wrote this chapter in two days either. Again, this won't last long, but I may as well enjoy it while it lasts.
Yes, all of you saw Cain adopting the child coming. It was a fairly obvious move, and the next chapter will explore the daily life of Zerayah Cain, daughter of the Liberator (and yes, I am recycling the name from several other stories of mine - and this version isn't even the scariest !).
It's going to be hilarious to write, and hopefully to read.
I know it's commonly believed that Legienstrasse was created using Tyranid DNA, but there is zero actual evidence of that in the book Seventh Retribution, and as Cain points out in this chapter, the timeline doesn't fit. And yes, I'm aware that there were Tyranids in the galaxy long before their official discovery, but the book itself refers to "rare mutant strains and shapeshifting xenos", thousands of which were reduced into goo from which the tech-priests refined the genetic material used to create Legienstrasse. Genestealers aren't shape-shifters as far as I'm aware, and neither are the rest of the Tyranid bio-forms : once a Tyranid creature is spawned, it stays the same until it dies and its biomass is reclaimed by the swarm. Truth be told, I'm not sure where the idea that Legienstrasse was a Human/Tyranid hybrid came from.
The Torredon Subsector is mentioned once in Duty Calls as part of the backstory of one of Amberley's Acolytes. Everything I have written about it in this chapter is part of the very short description we're given (well, not so much a part as literally everything in that description), except for it being connected to Adumbria by a Warp route. I'm not sure why I felt the need to add that. It probably won't come up again in the future.
Meanwhile, the Bone Knives are mentioned at the very end of The Last Ditch. And yes, their armor is magenta. That's all we canonically know about them, meaning it's perfectly fine for me to use them and give their Chapter Master the name of a Tomb King.
What else ... oh yeah, Broklaw is here. Sadly, the odds of him meeting Kasteen are quite low in this universe. But hey, Amberley Oak'ed him and the 301st into her warband ! Now they'll get to meet and kill all manner of interesting people.
As always, I look forward to your thoughts and suggestions. We're getting close to another timeskip, if only to give Cain's beloved daughter time to grow up, so now is the time to throw your ideas at me - maybe one of them will stick !
Zahariel out.