Lord Commander Militant Caiphas Cain
I steepled my hands as the full weight of the words hit me, the little noises were rattling about in my head and I desperately wanted someone, any one of the real High Lords around me to speak up. But I was Caiphas Cain, hero of the Imperium, Lord Commander Militant, and chosen by the Emperor's own golden champions to be of particular importance. Never mind that I was pretty sure they'd gotten everything horribly wrong and were just too embarrassed to say anything about it.
Nobody spoke. I'd really have taken anyone, even that cretin Haemotalion. But unfortunately the downside to my egregiously falsified reputation is that on matters of importance, people expected me to have something useful to add to the conversation.
"So what you're saying is..." I let the words trail off, allowing the appearance of consideration on what I was about to say. "that we have no contact with the greater Imperium outside Terra? No food shipments, no reinforcements, and no word of what is happening," I gestured to the gigantic flaming warp rift in the heavens stretching above Terra. By the throne it looked like the sky was bleeding. "up there?"
I turned on the two people I hated most in the galaxy at this moment. Raskian, master of the Mechanicum with too much metal where his brain ought to be, and Throde, the master of the Astronomicon who unfortunately didn't have Raskian's excuse. I gave them my best number two glare, practiced as it was when I left the Scola Progenium.
"And the Golden Throne, source of the Astronomicon, which ensures that humanity can travel across the stars as the Master of Mankind deemed our right ten millennia ago, is failing." I kept a side eye on the other members of of the High Lords throughout my speaking. Most of them looked quietly contemplative, except for Valoris whose armour let him go entirely unreadable to even my skills at interpretation. As he was my effective sponsor to even being on this council, that was a problem. "Which is a problem neither of you know how to properly fix?" I ceased the wandering of my gaze and focussed its entire intensity on the two incompetents who might doom us all, and more importantly me. "Is my understanding of the situation correct?"
Raskian and Throde looked at each other, made some sort of shuffling motion, and then proceeded to look back at me and nod in what I was reasonably sure was shame.
"Well then." I rallied myself with what I must say was an actually heroic effort, successfully preventing myself from drawing my bolt pistol and shooting the pair of them. Never before today had I cursed the damned mistake the Custodes had made in declaring my protection something the Emperor wanted. In retrospect i'd been doing absolutely fine in the Lord General's office. All those suicidal missions he got me caught up in weren't half as dangerous as the politics on Holy Terra itself. "Looks like we don't have too much to worry about."
As one, the High Lords of Terra looked towards me, on Haemotalion's face was astonishment mixed with bovine stupidity. Dhanda and Fadix were curious, well as much as I could get a read on anything from the master of the Assasinorum. Darchmar was gleeful, Slyst was trying to present a front of piety. Unfortunately though, the one thing I could see in all of them was hope. Desperate hope. The sort of hope that only gets shown when they have no Throne damned ideas of their own to fix things.
My plan had been to see who had the most idea of what to do and let them take charge, keeping my fraudulent reputation and thus continued existence intact, whilst also actually preserving the Emperor's most holy Imperium. Instead, to keep my head on my shoulders it looked like I was going to have to do some quick thinking. Some very quick thinking.
"Fabricator General, Master Throde." Both men looked up at me with indecent haste. "You will be happy to learn that your imminent executions have been... suspended." Throde's eyeless face blanched in an instant, Raskian looked indignant with rage for all of five seconds before his eyes darted to the rest of the High Lords who were pointedly not objecting. I'd thought as much, give them someone to blame and divert any responsibility from themselves or me. "In fact if you can get the Golden Throne running properly again, I think this council may even elect to let you live. Master Fadix?" The master of assassins glanced in my direction like a hunting dog. "Please formalise the orders in case they fail the Emperor so completely again." A curt nod was answer enough.
The rest of the meeting passed in a blur. I knew the civvies of Terra weren't too different from any other Hive World, I knew we'd need to keep them fed and under control as long as possible, so I let Haemotalion come up with the figures and left him to arrange the practicalities. I knew security for a planet suddenly cut off was vital and set Fadix and Drachmar to start a fresh purge of known chaos cults, the last thing we wanted rising in the middle of all this. It took hours and hours, and more recaff than any Human ought to consume, but yelling at other people to give me numbers enough eventually gave me the semblance of a real plan to keep Terra together, and my head attached to my shoulders. If they all thought they had important things to do, they'd be too busy to start plotting my horrible demise as a scapegoat. Two centuries of service to the Emperor, and somehow the threats to life and limb never seemed to end. It almost made me wish for the simple days back with the 597th.
Finally it was done. Everyone had left the chamber except me, and Trajan Valoris. The Captain General of the Adeptus Custodes strode to my side and looked down on me. I could tell he knew that I was just making it up as I went along. The level stare of his helmet told me as much. He knew I was a fraud, that I wasn't meant to be picked by his colleagues and that my victories had all been in the name of saving my own hide, that I hadn't even known the Tyrannid Hive fleet would strike where it did and i'd been keeping myself safe behind the lines. He knew it all, I could tell, I could tell, I could te-
A golden gauntlet rested heavy on my shoulder like a swords edge. My heart hammered in my chest like a bolter on full auto. My mind came up with nothing, nothing to save me. Nothing to excuse my failings to the Emperors own guardian.
"At times like this, I think I know why he chose you." The Golden Giant said in a voice almost contemplative despite its barritone power. Then he turned around, and left the chamber as well, footsteps echoing into the distance.
"Oh throne." I whispered to the world. "I fooled them too."
Cain continues to exemplifying the phrase, suffering in success, to the extreme. Being a High Lord saves him not from his constant worrying.