Prince Edmund, the Inquisition, the Ecclesiarchy, and the entire Haikk Crusade deal with the aftermath of Rogers discovery on Haikk Five. The prince makes the decision to move from a mission of pacification to finding out what is even happening planet side as he struggles to contain his outrage. In the meantime, the questionably lucky knight rides to Stratioupolis to get some answers and finds plenty, some baffling, others obvious in retrospect. But to accomplish the wishes of his liege and patron, he will have to go far afield, at least if he can survive his own paranoia and Xenos cooking.
But in the nearby forests, the warriors of Ducaish have their worst fears confirmed from the ancient Webway Gates that dot the planet...
Dressed in full regalia, Walter de Burle, better known as the Bishop of Chelmster, looked through the picts and reports in baffled silence. He handed one of them showing the mass of tents from what was originally believed to be the barely organized and feudal forces of Haikk Five. His eyes widened at the statement of how many men Roger Wessyng had seen personally, the fact that they could outnumber an entire Imperial Guard Corps initially thought beyond the capabilities of anyone in the system. Even reading the after-action reports on Haikk Four at the battle of Acra paled in comparison, the tidal wave of men that Edmund had held against mostly being poorly trained levies. These men, whoever they were, had equipment and professional training.
"No one knew this?"
A slight chill ran up the Bishops spine at the question. Edmunds forebears had been infamous for the near murderous rages they could fly into, and despite it never happening before, the Prince of Gasceaux could be just as susceptible as any of the Planjou dynasty.
"No," Inquisitor Katherine Beauchamp muttered, almost stunned at the information he handed her. "Even… even our august organization had no idea of movements and organization at this level on the planet. This is almost unbelievable."
"And you, Bishop?"
His eyes looked at Edmund, whom he had avoided looking at. His face was bright red, veins throbbing in his neck, hands clasped so hard into fists that they were bone white.
"No. That the Ecclesiarchy was not informing myself or anyone else of such is certainly suspect."
The two sitting in front of the barely calm royal both quickly reached a conclusion that neither of them liked, but had to keep secret for matters of security. They would have liked to get as many allies as possible, but the risk of their investigations into an organization as slippery and cautious as the Temple Tendency deserved close-knit circles.
"Duck?" the Prince asked suddenly.
Lord Robert D'Uxford stared out the window into space, a mix of embarrassment and desperation at finding an answer to how this had happened keeping him quiet.
"Yes, Ed?"
"How the fuck did this happen?"
"No idea."
"Do you think the Konstantins have anything to do with this?"
"Intentionally? Doubtful. But that they would be so ignorant to these occurrences and not be aware of an entire army gathering on the planet? There could be many answers."
"Hanlon's Razor, Robert," his mother added.
The Prince's eyes snapped to her, his body trembling with rage.
"What the fuck is that?"
"An old philosophical rule of thumb from Terra's ancient times," D'Uxford said as he moved towards the desk. "Never attribute malice to what could also be stupidity."
"Meaning?"
"Prince Edmund, the Konstantins are either ignorant through their own faults, or they are doing so on purpose."
"Goddamn traitors," he hissed to the Inquisitor, as if to imply her help was needed.
"May I suggest another answer?" Chelmster said with a raised hand.
One of his best abilities as a member of the clergy was being able to use his spiritual rank to calm even the worst of situations. Here, he was able to use it to its fullest.
"I remember hearing from the Lord General Militant that the Konstantins had been working closely with the current government and nobility on Haikk Five. What if they are the ones keeping the Konstantins in the dark? Maybe these forces are either against them, or just simply have no interest in being led by them?"
"You think this colossal shitshow is because of politics?"
"If even the faith of our Imperium and the word of the Holy Emperor on Terra falls victim to politics of various sorts, why not a planetary dispute?"
"It is not a bad conclusion. Ed, I think we should find out more before we make a move. And Borricelli has had enough bad news this week, finding out we went on a wild goose chase would hardly keep us in his good graces."
Edmund snorted at his commander's name.
"Like we haven't pissed him off already. Man nearly had a stroke when we got the first reports in."
"Was this news really that bad?" the Inquisitor asked.
Her son nodded with a sigh.
"For all his achievements so far, from befriending and commanding Eldar, saving Third Corps many times, and rising himself from the yeomanry to knighthood, he has accomplished something few humans can truly say."
"And that is?"
"He's single-handedly thrown an entire Crusade on its head," Edmund answered. "We all believed Haikk Five to be the single loyal and calm planet in this God Emperor forsaken system, apologies for using His name in vain, Your Grace. But now we're scrambling to figure out what the hell to do because we've been kept in the dark about this. Borricelli is not saying a damn thing to anyone, especially the commander of the Konstantins, considering they might be in on it. But I gathered you here to inform you of the situation and to tell you about Roger and the Leopards. I have new plans for him."
"Yes?"
"Since he's doing work for the both of you in various forms, I'm letting you two know I'm going to change his orders on my end. He's no longer on Haikk Five to ensure the planets loyalty, but to figure out what the ever-living fuck is going on there."
Katherine and Chelmster nodded in agreement.
"He has not begun my mission," she said calmly. "I think letting him get a lay of the land and gather information will benefit all of us."
"Agreed," Chelmster said politely.
"What exactly is Roger doing for you, Your Grace?"
"Matters that do not concern someone of your stature or position. More for the lower but well-skilled of those among us."
"Ah, dirty work. Well, don't break him. At the very least, I could use a supportive vote in the Commons of Parliament once this war is over."
The three Anglois laughed at this, Katherine not pretending to understand the humor. She had lived among their kind for a few years but was more versed in the intricacies of the Western Isles given her long term mission on that side of the planet. The Inquisitor almost believed nothing had resulted from that, but the spymaster standing nearby certainly put that idea to rest.
"I understand that this all seems quite sudden, but Roger and his men certainly have a knack for finding trouble, don't they?"
"They certainly do, Your Highness. Now, if there is nothing else you have to share, I must return to my duties."
"Of course, Your Grace. If he finds out anything more, I'll inform you as soon as possible. And you as well Inquisitor."
"We all have a vested interest in one man," Katherine sardonically concluded. "Let us hope he can bear the burden."
"He has borne worse; I can assure you."
She nodded at her son and the prince before she stood, the Bishop following suit.
"May the Emperor bless and protect you all."
"Thank you, Your Grace, I would ask that you keep our dear knight in your prayers. I feel he's going to need them."
The two bowed politely and exited the office, Edmund and D'Uxford watching them depart before the door slammed shut.
"I am surprised they did not notice the missing chair or the dent in the wall."
"Fuck off."
D'Uxford smirked slightly at the response. Even his barely contained rage when the members of Church and the state security apparatus were present was nothing compared to his first reaction to Rogers findings. Having thrown and thoroughly destroyed one of his office chairs, nearly foaming at the mouth and on the verge of quite literally having a stroke, he had certainly calmed down since then.
"I hate being out of the loop, but I can't decide who to blame for this. You and I thought we knew what was going on, and so did most of the command here. Now we can't get even basic shit straight. What a goddamn mess."
"Agreed. Should we send any more men to support Roger?"
"Hell no. He's got Eldar, he'll be fine. And we don't want our… allies on Haikk Five, I suppose, wondering what we're up to."
"Understood."
Edmund pulled open a drawer and lifted a dark bottle out from its depths. Strong stuff, crafted in the northern frontiers of Avalon with a price and alcohol volume almost equal.
"Throne, you aren't going to be drinking that by yourself, are you?"
"Are you asking for some of it?"
"Hell no. That rotgut could kill and embalm a man simultaneously."
"I'd argue you have no taste, but I don't think one can have much of that left after a nip or two. And yet-" he poured himself a thimble sized shot glass full and raised it to his spymaster. "I'll bloody drink it."
He grimaced as he did so, shuddering at the taste and strength of the spirit. D'Uxford looked over one of the reports again and shook his head.
"Roger certainly knows how to get your attention, doesn't he?"
"True. The Eldar, the convoys, finding out the rebels were headed to us, and now this."
He sighed and sat back in his chair.
"Maybe one day he'll have the fucking decency to bring me good news for once."
XXXXXX
The gates to Stratioupolis were still as imposing as ever, as much a show of the Konstantins power as a warning to anyone who defied them and the Imperium of Man. But as the lone horseman approached, the guards in the gatehouse seemed more interested in their drink and dice games than ensuring their rule over Haikk Five. One of the men nudged his partner, who stood up and looked down at the visitor in annoyance.
"Who goes there?"
"Sir Roger Wessyng of Anglerre. I need to see your commander immediately."
"Oh really? And what if you're some dumb local peasants who dressed up as a knight to sneak in her and cause havoc?"
"First off," the man with a strange but certainly not local accent answered. "I know Papagos is angry enough at you boys enough. Second, you're too busy playing dice to have a weapon on hand in case I shot something at you. Between the fact you know that name and you aren't dead should be enough."
The guards friend leaned over and looked down at the challenger.
"We should take this smartass out."
"I believe him. And he's right, he could've shot me or you by now and gotten away."
"You want to let him in?"
"It's my ass on the line, not yours."
"But you're the worst dice player in the city. I'd lose my revenue source."
"Malaka."
He turned back to the horseman and cupped his hands around his mouth.
"Give us a moment, Sir Roger! We will lift the gates!"
As the metal grate lifted, the two took the opportunity to throw one more round of dice.
XXXXXX
Walking down the polished floors of the main fortress, Roger cradled his helmet and tried to disguise his foul mood. What had once seemed to be high living for soldiers was revealed as time wasters for an Imperial Guard mission that was as blind as it was vain. He became more suspicious of the obvious red flags hiding in plain sight here and had one hand on his Eldari blade, the other within reach of his dagger should he drop his helmet. As he approached the commanders tower, he received respectful salutes from the well-dressed guards. He counted everyone as he responded in kind, thinking he could fight through them easily. Some of them did not seem to even have their Lasguns fully charged.
"Sir Roger Wessyng?" an aide asked.
"Yes. Is Komes Papagos present?"
"Certainly, along with Basil Argyros."
"I need to see them immediately."
"I do not know if that is possi-"
"Now."
He was never one for intimidation, given his stature and rather plain face, but he had taken some tips and advice from some of the most feared warriors and finest actors in the galaxy. Well, if one was aware of their existence, which few were.
"E-erm, yes, sir."
The aide quickly moved to the door and opened it slightly, speaking in his native tongue for a few moments before turning back to Roger.
"The Komes will see you now."
"Much appreciated."
He rushed into the office, seeing the welcoming glares of the commander and what was presumably his intelligence officer from the little interaction the knight had with him.
"Ah, Sir Roger!" Manuel Papagos said boisterously. "You have returned! Your mission was completed quicker than I thought. Or did you run into issues we need to help you with?"
Basil watched him apprehensively. Even with the Komes' mood, his comrade could quickly tell something was wrong, and Roger was about to drop unwelcome news on them.
"Yes, Komes, I did have a bit of an issue. And maybe you can help me by explaining this."
He pulled out a folder, copies of his initial report and picts taken at Meurthe stuffed inside. Initially, Roger thought about slamming onto the Konstantins desk, but thought better of it. Handing it over to Papagos, he opened it and flipped through the pages, his ebullient smile vanishing slowly until he reached the end, closing the folder and gently dropping it on his desk. He looked at the floor for a moment, tapping his fingers on his desk before sighing and looking up at the knight.
"Ah. You figured it out."
"You knew?"
"Of course. I apologize for keeping you in the dark, but that seems to be our Tagma policy as of late."
Papagos handed the folder to Basil, who looked it over but knew instantly what he was talking about.
"So there's no conspiracy going on that will kill me for knowing about this? Because if you want to get rid of me, Edmund knows by now."
"We are not those kinds of men, despite what you may now believe," the spy responded. "But there is a… cover up, a whitewashing of sorts."
"Would you mind explaining?"
Basil looked to Papagos, who nodded and offered a chair to Roger.
"When we first arrived on this planet, our commander, the experienced and brave Strategos Ioannis Apion, made contact first with the western peoples of this planet, mostly under the rule of the Argac family. Have you heard of them?"
"Barely, but I know of them."
"They quickly surrendered to us and treated us as saviors. We even crushed the few rebel forces that were on this planet still with their help. But as we moved east, things became increasingly complicated. And I do not just mean politically."
"You were aware of Branders and the Burgons? Along with their capabilities?"
Basil nodded.
"Yes, and it did not take long for our command staff to contact them. And that is where the problems began."
"Do tell," Roger said, politely refusing a glass of wine offered by the Komes, who took a sip and cleared his throat to speak.
"What I can gather from rumor and conversation with friends, the Burgons and the other easterners welcomed them, but did not treat us like saviors. More as equals. This… rankled the high command, who preferred the westerners like the Argac. Ego is a hell of a thing."
The Anglois knight blinked, finally accepting some of the wine after watching the two before him drink it. One does not imbibe in drinks they poisoned, and he had brought a catch-all antidote that solved most acquirable variants provided by D'Uxford. He thanked the mindfulness and far-sighted nature of his commanding officer and took a sip, stealthily preparing the vial.
"Are you saying that your Tagma prefers one faction on this planet over the other because they treated your leaders better?"
"It is one of the reasons," Papagos sighed. "But there were already unresolved issues when we arrived. From what I can tell, the Argacs and the Burgons originally came from the same royal family that once ruled this planet. What was a family dispute nearly tore this planet apart, and when the rebellion began, they raised armies to both prove their loyalty to the Imperium and destroy their rivals. The Argacs needed us to help finally crush them, and we expected the same moving inland."
"And it didn't go that way?"
Basil rubbed his eyes and let out a depressed sigh.
"The Burgons and Beneligers had crushed them with no issue, and when our forces arrived, the Argacs ordered our men to attack them. We refused, seeing how they were loyal soldiers and had saved us a lot of work. Within a month of our arrival, the planet was pacified. But within half a year, the easterners became increasingly open in their refusal to accept any rulers but their own. So, we have been in a stalemate ever since, the Burgons and Argacs fighting small border skirmishes as we made sure it does not go too overboard."
"But the Burgons and their allies could provide forces we desperately need!" Roger protested. "And because they didn't inflate your leaders' egos, you're going to ignore them?"
"There are other reasons."
"Like what?"
Basil looked to Papagos, who shook his head.
"Local differences."
The knight raised one of his eyebrows.
"I don't believe you."
"The situation has been under control ever since we arrived, and there were-"
"Dammit Basil, we should tell him."
"Manuel!"
Papagos stood and moved to a nearby shelf, a battered war mace with dried blood still on it.
"Ego is a danger, Sir Roger. But what of arrogance?"
"I would think they could equally lead to disaster."
"Correct. And we learned that at Mauryes."
"Mauryes?"
Papagos shuddered and took the mace in his hands, Roger initially worried that he was about to be attacked. But he quickly realized that it was damaged, near useless.
"Seven months after we arrived, we sent a thousand men, five bandons worth, about the same size as this garrison each, to stop a Burgon intervention across the neutral zone we agreed on. After all, we had Lasguns and some of the finest training the Imperial Guard could provide, and they had primitive gunpowder weapons and pikes. The result was never in doubt, as you can imagine."
He stared past Roger, lost in thought. His face twisted subtly in horror, as if he were reliving a terrible event.
"I was in command of one of the Bandons that day, and I warned the Komes we chose as our commander that we were rushing in blind. Certainly, we had nothing to fear, cavalry on the flanks, fine armor, the best training, superior troops..."
He swallowed and clenched his teeth.
"Then the first cannonballs smashed into us from the trees. Their firearms, arquebuses, more advanced than the standard metal ended pikes we saw them use, tore through men with a clap as loud as thunder as arrows and crossbow bolts rained down like hail. Our Guardsmen were falling wounded or dead in droves, the flak jackets saving most of them from the initial fire. Before we could arm ourselves and let them taste lasbolts, the knights charged into our center. And those coustilliers… they tore through our flanks. Their infantry, a mix of those with horrible club-pikes, sword armed knights, and infantry with everything from poleaxes to warhammers slammed into what was left. I barely survived as our lines collapsed. I struck down two who nearly took me, but it haunts my dreams."
"The Konstantins were defeated?" Roger asked in horror.
"Soundly," Basil said coolly. "Half the force was lost before a single shot from our side could be fired. We were utterly embarrassed and told no one in shame, burying it so that no one would know. We are the only ones with communications to the Langriano and the Crusade, so the story only stayed with us, under the gravest of penalty should it be revealed."
"W-well, I'll stay quiet. But why-"
"No, we have been kept leashed and muzzled long enough. Someone like you must get the ear of someone important. But try to keep our names out of it, yes? Anyways, they beat us, but only so that we would stay away from this planet's affairs. We were sent here to merely monitor them and ensure that they do not violate the stalemate."
"Throne, what a mess. Wait, you told me last time it took you a year to secure this place, the village burnings, all that."
"Bandits that we wrote down as rebels in the reports. And some of those deaths on both ends were from skirmishes with the easterners. Another unfortunate half-truth."
"Why didn't you attack them? I'm fairly certain your commanders and Guardsmen would gladly wreak vengeance on them for their petulance."
Papagos and Basil looked at each other, the former shrugging.
"It was buried; few know what really happened there. And as for our commanders, the defeat... it was a blow to our morale and psyche. But more than that, it proved our high command wrong, and they cannot ever accept that."
"What does that mean?"
"Our leadership bet that the Argacs and the westerners were the better choice to support, and the lavish bribes and gifts only furthered that belief," Basil replied. "They never would be able to beat our men, even in an ambush, so to lose terribly to those you were convinced were inferior is a wound that never heals. But it also terrified them into inaction. Nobody wants to have another Mauryes to their name. So, a string of forts has stayed to ensure the Burgons do not attack again, or at least before we aware of their actions. And then there is the issue of them not being heretics or truly rebellious. Our men will not fight those who serve the same Emperor and Imperium they do. It is a slippery slope we have fallen down, I am afraid."
Roger tapped the armrest of his chair before shaking his head in disbelief.
"What a bloody mess," he said flatly.
"Mess is one way to put it, my Anglois friend," Papagos said as he put the broken mace on the shelf again. "And that is just one side of the issue. Does your homeworld have a… what do they call them in most of the Imperium, a cardinal? For the Church? Highest one on a planet?"
"Most feudal worlds have one representing an entire world I believe. Why?"
"Haikk Five has two of them," Basil finished.
Roger shrugged.
"This planet seems big enough to warrant that."
"Oh, it is not because there is too much work. One represents the western Church, the other the east. They both claim to be the true, single Cardinal of Haikk Five."
"Wait, you don't mean- oh for fucks sake!"
"Bad news comes in droves, does it not? But the less you have to think of such things, the better."
"Is there any way I can speak to the Argacs? Just so I can get some guarantees for Edmund and vice versa? He hopes that the government your commanders support can give assurances or at least some answers."
The Konstantins looked at each other, trying to figure out a way to do so.
"We have a Valkyrie fly in daily to deliver small items from the capitol, Nou-Par. We can fit you in on one of those flights, get you some papers, and into the Chateau de Seneschal. That is where Louis holds court."
"Louis?"
Papagos snorted in derision.
"Louis the Twenty Ninth, Seneschal of Haikk Five. Title is some ancient nonsense, but he is a king in all but name, at least in the west for now. Dedicated to chivalry and pageantry, so shine that armor and bring out your best surcoat."
"That's doable. May I stay here until it arrives?"
"Of course! Tower you and Sir Erwan stayed at is empty. Speaking of which, where is he?"
"Left him in Meurthe as acting commander. He'll be fine."
"Well then, we will get the parchment ready, and you should start cleaning your essentials. If you need anything else, let us know."
"I appreciate it, Komes. I'll humbly accept."
"Well, enjoy our hospitality for the rest of the day, and get some rest. The court of the Seneschal is… exhausting, I can assure you."
"Of course. Thank you, gentlemen."
He stood up and shook hands with the two men, still cautious as to their possible betrayal at any moment. There was a part of him that did not even trust the Valkyrie ride, with his equipment, he would be a force to be reckoned with.
"Should we send food up for your supper?"
"I brought enough supplies to last me a few days, I'll be fine. If you excuse me, I'm going to prepare my equipment."
He bowed politely and quickly moved out of the office and started for the knights tower.
"Is he telling the truth?" he whispered into the Eldari comms device.
"There is a daily arrival of a flying craft to this fortress, I remember that."
"Thank whatever you worship for your good eyes and memory, Anya."
"Do you trust the Konstantins?"
"No, but I haven't a choice now. Hopefully, I can get an answer when I get to Nou-Par. Wasn't expecting to meet a planetary governor, I will admit."
"You are becoming quite famous. Enjoy it."
Roger chuckled as he opened the door to the tower, instantly locking it behind him. He had quite literally forced himself into a corner if Papagos and Basil wanted him dead, but he could hold out with the supplies he had brought. He also had a hidden ace up his sleeve, who could pick off enemies from a safe distance, and come to his aid with her blade. He had a feeling even the newest of Rangers would be better sword fighters than most humans. He opened the window and remembered a repair kit left for their previous occupants' convenience and began to scour his armor. He noticed a flicker of motion coming from the window in the corner of his eye.
"I think traveling alone in these circumstances is a poor choice."
Anya's fiery red hair, tied in a ponytail as preferred by her Ranger kin, gently followed the breeze from the window as she sat down.
"I agree. But as I said, what choice do I have? Edmund wants answers, and the best place to find them is by facing this head on."
"Your men and my kin will not be able to help you in time. You are aware of this, correct?"
"No risk without reward. And don't forget Evita."
He heard a metallic clank from the corner of the room, his hand shooting towards his blade. He only released it when he realized it was a cooking pot being placed on the grate, the Eldar lighting the fire underneath.
"Thrones sake Anya, I'm on edge enough as is."
"What, a sudden noise is enough to terrify the hero of Acra? The paladin of Prince Edmund of Anglerre?"
"Thank your Gods that they blessed you to be so pretty, otherwise I'd throw something at you."
"And I would dodge it and slap you thoroughly before you realized what happened."
"But the intent would still remain."
Her head shook in disappointment as she poured something into the pot.
"And that is?"
"Rations I spared for you. I know you did not pack as many supplies as you said."
"The less time spent with those two, the better. And… thank you. For the meal."
"It is of no trouble. I should warn you; I am no great chef by Asuryani standards."
"As long as it doesn't kill me, I think I'll be fine. I have no doubt whatever would come from that kitchen a floor or two below would be as poisonous as a nest of vipers."
He could hear liquid boiling, trying to focus on his armor as the smell of what she was cooking became too pleasant to ignore.
Give it a little longer to cook. I guarantee you will enjoy it.
Stop reading my thoughts and getting in my head. Or at the very least do it without me knowing.
"Very well," she sighed. "I did want to ask, should you not have specialists or a servant to help you with your equipment?"
"Ha! You'd think. If I had the money or the serfs to do it, I would. But for now, I'll have to handle it all myself. I don't get paid that much anyway."
"You do this for pay?"
"Don't you?"
"Commerce means little to the Eldar," she said while pouring some of the food into a bowl. "Of course, we trade and interact with other species and craftworlds for certain materials, but our society is beyond the need for such things. Resources are infinite for so many basic necessities that we rarely think of dealing with such issues."
"Lucky you."
She shook her head as she beckoned him to a nearby table, setting two bowls down on it.
"If you knew anything about the Asuryani, you would know we exhausted our luck long ago."
He put his armor down and sat down across from her, looking down at the filled bowl. It was a stew of some sort, the color and presentation as good as it smelled.
"What is it?"
"A recipe of the Konstantins. Chickpeas, leeks, garlic, a variety of spices, and milk. I... requisitioned the ingredients from the kitchens during your meeting."
"Stealing isn't very nice, but I won't argue now. Can you eat it?"
"Of course. While this will be of little taste to my palette, if I made an Eldari dish, it may overwhelm your senses and kill you."
"I've known plenty of women whose cooking could kill already."
Anya frowned at the statement, taking a few moments to realize he was being humorous. He took a spoonful of the stew, chewed on it, and nodded.
"You say you're a bad cook?"
"By Asuryani standards, yes."
"Don't put yourself down like that."
He continued to eat, the Ranger watching him with satisfaction.
"Would you like some help with your armor when we are finished?"
"Sure. Maybe you'll learn a thing or two about human armor."
"I know it is quite breakable. Even the kind your Space Marines wear."
He lowered the spoon from his mouth and frowned slightly.
"How exactly did you find yourself facing Astartes?"
"It is a long story."
"We have until tomorrow morning."
She nodded slowly and took a spoonful of her own stew.
"We had been sent to assist some Exodites. Your kind started to build things that polluted the ground and sky, so we were obligated to assist…"
XXXXXX
Kallen Socher, acolyte of the Striking Scorpions Aspect, watched in silence with the rest of the Leopards Asuryani contingent as two figures stalked around the near-ruined Webway Gate they had arrived through. He felt Moire move to his side, briefly glancing over to her.
"Where did you find them?" the Avengers commander asked.
"Old friends of mine. From another age."
"Ah."
The two moved around the Gate in a strange, dance-like fashion, their robes and armor almost flowing together. They had not bothered to bring their helmets, large and almost decorative, but none of those assembled could mistake them for anything but what they were: Bonesingers.
"But twins who are such?"
"They do not get much serious work, I think their peers are afraid of them. Tragic, as they are some of the finest Singers I have ever seen at work."
Twins were an incredibly rare thing in Eldar society, treated with reverence. Birth rates were what they were, but to be blessed with two children at once, and why it was so infrequent, remained a mystery even with the millions of cycles they had existed and recorded in their history. Fate would inevitably see Caeroth and Caerin, the two who followed the Path of the Singer, entwined in the greatest of Asuryani constructs: a Wraithknight. But for now, they took pleasure in the forging and strengthening of the Wraithbone. As if them being twins was not enough, they were brother and sister, making them even rarer.
"Has Anya contacted you?"
"Roger has arrived safely and is awaiting transport to one of the larger cities on this planet. Something about fact finding for Edmund."
"I see."
"He will be going alone. There is no other way."
"Unwise."
"He admits such, but it is the only way."
Moire watched the two Singers at work, silently processing the information.
"His fatalism will be the end of him."
"A daughter of Asuryan critiquing a human over fatalism? I would laugh if I could."
The hair on the back of Kallens neck stood up as he felt the Singers approach. Moire backed off slightly, their kin closing in around them to hear the twins' assessment.
"Well?" he asked.
"It is quite strange-" Caeroth began.
"-that a Gate this ancient stays operational," Caerin finished.
"Is the network across this planet able to be traversed safely?"
"Of course. The Gates in this star system are remarkably-"
"Resilient, agreed brother. But this one, it has been repaired, but not by-"
"The hands of professionals. Or Craftworlders, to be specific."
"We suspected that," Moire replied.
Were it not for the slight differences in hair style, the two would be identical. Even the keen instinct of the Asuryani did little to help identify one from the other.
"These gates," Caerin almost whispered, "Are from the days of our great empire. That they have survived-"
"Is certainly because the humans have ignored them or fear them."
"Maybe both, brother. They might even worship them, knowing their ignorance."
"But the ones who repaired them," Kallen said to refocus them. "Corsairs? Exodites?"
The two quietly laughed, unnerving the Leopards around them.
"Oh no. We are quite-"
"Certain. This is the work of those who have no respect for skill or-"
"Art. These repairs are the work of those who understand and can use them but take no pleasure in doing so."
"So, these were-"
"Yes," the two answered simultaneously.
Kallens nose wrinkled as he looked to the warriors of two Aspects and the Outcasts.
"Then it is official," he said grimly. "Ready your blades and sharpen your wits, brothers and sisters. We are not just dealing with humans here."
Even as he thought of the name, his body quivered with revulsion. Even as he refused to say it, the words he uttered oozed with disgust.
"Our benighted cousins walk upon this world."