The ride down was not as pleasant as one might think. The artificial gravity was manual, so I couldn't reach it without having to swim through the pod, and there was indeed room to swim. From the manual Jurgen was reading aloud for my benefit, this pod was able to hold at least twenty people, fifty in a pinch. I hoped that taking off in it with just myself and Jurgen wasn't going to be seen as me attempting to flee from combat. Sure, I'd absolutely love to do that, but the issue is that I'd have to somehow manage do that without the Commissant, and now probably the Inquisition as well, coming after me(1). As we remained latched in, tumbling through space, I looked around for a way to unshutter a porthole so we could see. After fumbling around a bit, I was able to open a hatch that showed us the void around us. The stars tumbled around as we were thrown this way and that, and I immediately regretted my decision as nausea overtook me from the spinning motion. It was probably my status as a daemon that kept my dinner within my stomach; poor Jurgen had barely managed to find a vomit bag in time. Every now and then, we could see the Imperial fleet trying to overtake the Ork fleet, trying to get back into a proper formation to engage. Many of the troop transports were releasing lifepods or shuttles, usually a combination of both. As we watched, one of the transport ships went up in a massive explosion, before the vacuum of space snuffed the flames out. I made the sign of the Aquila, uttering a prayer for those souls lost with the ship, with Jurgen dutifully following suit.
"What are our options, sir?" Jurgen asked me once his stomach had settled and the battle drifted away behind us. I considered his question, and started listing what viable options I could see at the moment.
"Option one, we light a distress beacon, but we're heading towards the Orks…"
"And though their sensors are trash, they'll still pick it up and use us for target practice. Ork aim may be shit, but accuracy through volume is still accuracy." Jurgen stated sagely. When you got to know the man, he could be surprisingly insightful at times, especially on subjects he was familiar with such as his people's sworn enemy. I nodded in satisfaction that his thoughts followed my own on the matter.
"Exactly. Option two is that we let the pod float towards the planet; that'll take three or so weeks." And while being in a somewhat enclosed space with Jurgen for the better part of a month wasn't my idea of a good time, it certainly beat getting shot at.
My aide just shrugged, accepting my reasoning without complaint. "Works for me, sir." I hesitated, but decided to list the last option I'd thought of, even if in my opinion it was the worst of the lot. Jurgen deserved as much transparency from me as I could afford to give, considering his proven loyalty and even friendship to me. It's not just any man who can accept his superior turning into a Daemon Prince after all.
"Option three is that I try to see if I can summon a warp portal and send us to the planet much faster… Though odds are I'd accidentally send us into the crust(2)."
"At least we wouldn't have to worry about daemons trying to frak that up." Jurgen mused idly.
"That, and since the troopers saw me use the Warp, I'll probably have to get screened and sanctioned as a Psyker…" I groaned, thinking of what would be done with me being known as a Psyker (3).
"I'm sure you'd pass." Jurgen replied encouragingly. I just stared at him in bemusement. Leave it to Jurgen to have such misplaced faith in me.
"Jurgen, I'm a Daemon Prince. How I'm even still here and not trapped in the Warp, and being forced to serve the literal embodiment of nymphomania and sadism is beyond me."
"I imagine it has to do with The Emperor's blessing." Jurgen asserted confidently. I chuckled at that, a bitter sound with no amusement behind it. While I held onto the Aquila, I had serious doubts that the God-Emperor had bothered with me.
"He on Terra wouldn't bless one damned such as I." I replied sadly. What my aide… No, what my friend said next touched me deeply, and I swore to myself I'd repay him somehow for his loyalty and kindness.
"His loss." Jurgen answered back with a shrug, as we both made the sign of the Aquila at mention of the God-Emperor. As if he hadn't just suggested that the Emperor, the Great Guardian of Humanity, would somehow be lesser for rejecting a wretch such as me. Truly, I really didn't deserve Jurgen.
Eventually we decided that the second choice was our best and safest option out of the three I'd come up with. Settling back in the crash harness, I got ready for a long ride.
The next three weeks were spent practicing. I was able to use my Witchcraft (4) to some extent. Were I to guess, I'd estimate that I was a Zeta grade Psyker, as there was minimal effort in pulling on the Warp. Jurgen's odor was the main issue, as I wasn't able to concentrate very well with it around. When I wasn't practicing my witchcraft, I was practicing with the blade. There was no telling what we'd meet on the planet, and I didn't want to die, even though as a Daemon I'd probably 'just' be banished to the Warp. Being banished to the realm of the Four Fucks sounded quite awful for my remaining sanity and faith. Finally, towards the end of the third week, we began to reach orbit. I had no idea where we were going to land, and if we wanted that information risks would have to be taken. I hurriedly reached over to the auspex array to check for bogeys, then began to dial in on the vox. Most of the bandwidth was covered by the Orks, their lack of vox-discipline surprising to me at the time. Then again, they weren't Guardsmen, but greenskins with all the discipline issues such implied. Finally, after several bits of turning dials and checking frequencies, I finally got a hit.
"Who is this?" A crackling voice asked. I noticed that the voice had an odd inflection to it, but passed it off as radio interference.
"This is Commissar Ciaphas Cain." I replied, then gave my regiment so they could crosscheck to make sure I was who I said I was. "Assigned to the 12th Valhallan Artillery Regiment. I request information on the planet and landing coordinates."
There was a pause, but even though the Vox I could feel a sense of… awe and adoration? Regardless, after I'd given my name the person on the other end of the vox-call was treating me like I was a High Lord or something.
"Greetings, Commissar. Where are you?"
I hesitated for a moment, but decided that the Orks didn't need to trick us with a human captive speaking to us if they wanted to blow us out of the sky. "In a lifepod, about to crash into the planet. I've been trapped in it with my aide for quite some time." I replied, before asking after my regiment. "What of the 12th Valhallan Artillery regiment?"
There was a pause before the vox-speaker crackled to life once more. "I have heard that they arrived a few days ago, ahead of most of the other Guardsmen."
Wonderful. Whoever I was talking to wasn't in the Guard. Probably PDF, but at least they didn't sound like a civilian who didn't know anything. "Acknowledged. Turning on the beacon now." I nodded to Jurgen, and he flipped the pod's emergency homing beacon on. Another pause before the vox crackled again with a rather confusing statement.
"I see you. Expect pickup shortly. Please refrain from shooting me on sight." And on that strange note, the line cut off.
"Something was off about him." Jurgen mused, brows furrowed in thought.
I just shrugged, trying not to be too paranoid over that somewhat bizarre exchange. "He's likely a PDF trooper."
For once, Jurgen didn't just agree with me. "No, it's his voice. It had a strange accent I've never heard."
"Maybe that's Perlia's normal accent? I mean, the Catachan have the Awsie(5)." I pointed out, though Jurgen certainly had a point. My aide conceded on the matter of the accent, before bringing up something else that was niggling at me about our vox exchange.
"Fair enough sir. But that last bit…" Yes, why would a loyal Imperial citizen be concerned with us shooting them on sight?
"A mutant, perhaps?" I wondered. However, this line of questioning was then put to rest when the pinging of ammunition striking metal rang out as bullets began to hit the Lifepod. Almost immediately, the hissing of air was heard, and we raced to the main area of the pod, Jurgen slamming the door behind himself. I checked the auspex to see if whoever had hit us was going around for another pass. The auspex was scrambled by the drumming we'd taken, but I could see an Ork fighter jet arcing around for another strafing run. It was my first time seeing Orkish machinery in person, and I was astounded that the damned thing could fly. It could certainly shoot though, and Jurgen wouldn't survive if this portion of the pod was ventilated as well.
Focusing on myself and my witchcraft, I brought up the energy of the Warp and imagined a bolt of energy. I arranged my fingers into the shape of a gun, and pointed it at the moving target. In a fit of whimsy, I uttered a single word as I willed my abilities to fire. "Bang."
The target was no longer there, an explosion of purple visible from the window.
"Nice shot, sir." Jurgen replied supportively, thankfully managing to keep his nausea at our craft's shaking down in the face of a threat. "Think you can do that again?"
I began to move the aquila, but it was suddenly red-hot to me. I quickly began to chant hymns to He on Terra, still holding the aquila in my sinful hands. After a few verses, it cooled.
"Sir?" Jurgen asked, face concerned at my lack of response. I shook my head, blood chilling at what the Aquila's response to my attempt at Warpcraft might mean.
"Using my curse like that… I think that I distanced myself from The Emperor for a moment…" I whispered. Jurgen cocked his head to the side curiously, a confused look on his face.
"It didn't seem to hurt you when you saved the guardsmen, sir."
"I was using it for selfless purposes." I replied, thinking of any difference between then and now. Poor Jurgen's confusion only seemed to grow at that logic.
"You didn't just save your life with that stunt either, sir."
"I think that it requires more people to be on the line." I hypothesized. Or maybe it was the type of witchcraft I'd used; I'd heard that there were schools of the stuff(6). Of course, my thoughts were cut short when several other objects were picked up on the glitching auspex; evidently the death of one of their comrades made nearby Orks think that there was a fight to be had. "Jurgen! We're coming in hot!" I shouted, throwing myself towards the console, and frantically typing out the commands for emergency landing.
I finished the desperate command, and suddenly I was flying in the cockpit, the floor dropping out from under me. Jurgen, who had strapped himself in, was pushed upwards, but not by much. I basically swam through the air, trying to reach a seat. I managed to strap myself in, albeit barely, as we began to see clouds approaching rapidly below us. Now the entire pod was shaking violently, with Jurgen once more making use of the provided air sickness bags, and I was worried that our craft would tear itself apart before we managed to get to the ground. And even assuming that it didn't, there was no guarantee that we'd survive impact. And that impact was coming closer and closer with every second. The pod's cogitator certainly wasn't helping; it was telling us that the systems were damaged, thus making the impact even more dangerous. And then we made our first contact with Perlian soil.
The force of the impact caused us to bounce, the pod skipping over the ground like a stone a bored juvie had chucked at a pond. Finally, after several more bounces, we skidded to a halt, leaving a scarred trail of debris and molten glass behind us based upon our view through the cracked porthole. We unbuckled ourselves, and prepared to see the wider area we found ourselves in. I stumbled towards the escape hatch, and pressed the button to open it. The door slid open with a jerk and the whine of strained motors, and an Ork stared back at me from the other side of the opening. For a moment, we just stared at each other. Then, he let out a bellow. Before I could bring up my laspistol, or dare to call upon the foul sorcery I had at my disposal, the beast's head exploded. Not even an Ork could come back from having their entire head removed in a splatter of gore and bone fragments. There was silence for a long moment after the shot.
"What was that?" Jurgen asked, stepping out of the pod behind me.
"That wasn't you?" I asked him, glancing at his lasgun. I knew Jurgen to be a credible shot, able to bring his weapon to bear in an instant, so I was surprised that the dead Ork wasn't his handiwork.
"No, sir… And there are more of them." He pointed nonchalantly into the near distance, and sure enough there was a large group of the beasts racing towards us, eyes glowing with malevolence. Jurgen hefted his lasgun, ready to fight. I drew my laspistol and chainsword, readying myself also. But before the Orks got in range, more of them were dropped. This time, I could see the thin laser bolt lighting up the air before one Ork after another fell.
"A sniper?" Jurgen wondered, keeping his weapon aimed but holding fire for now.
"Most likely." I replied as the remaining greenskins reached us. To my surprise, the sniper was still firing. One bolt flew mere inches from me, hitting an Ork that had managed to get behind me dead in the eye. By that point, I had begun to use my chainsword (thankful that Jurgen had managed to get it to me before our exit), slicing two of the green brutes apart. In an instant it was over, with all the greenskins dispatched and silence from our friendly sniper.
"Crack shot, huh?" Jurgen mused thoughtfully, turning to glance at me. "Did you see where the bolts came from?"
I pointed to the right. "That way." I said. "Shall we meet our mysterious benefactor?"
"I think I see them, sir." Jurgen replied, pointing. Sure enough, there was a figure trudging over the dunes towards us. Humanoid, but moving a bit more gracefully then I would have expected. The armor didn't look standard, either. In a matter of moments, the figure was close enough to realize exactly what it was.
"Is that…" Jurgen began.
"An Eldar." I replied. Hopefully it wasn't one of the Dark Eldar(7). Commorragh was definitely not on my list of places to visit for a nice holiday. Actually, weren't the Eldar bound to Slaanesh? Maybe going there would solve a few problems… I was brought out of my musings when the Eldar paused. He stood several feet away, rifle slung over his back.
"What in the name of Isha are you?" He asked me, what sounded like wary shock in his tone. And then he turned to Jurgen. "And how are you not writhing in pain with him near you?" That voice was familiar.
"Is this why you asked us not to shoot you on sight?" Jurgen growled, hefting his lasgun and pointing it at the Xeno. To my surprise, the Eldar did not move from its sights or offer any hostile moves.
"Had I wanted you dead, you would be dead." The Xeno pointed out calmly. "And even your power, human, wouldn't be able to save you."
Human? Didn't they call us mon-keigh or some other insult in their tongue?
"My power?" Jurgen asked, confused, as was I when I realized he was talking about him and not myself. Power? What power did Jurgen have besides being an excellent aide? The alien sniper continued, explaining his meaning even if it didn't make much sense.
"You are a void in the Sea of Souls; the touch of the Empyrean cannot stand you."
"That can't be right." Jurgen refuted. "The Commissar can handle me just fine, and use some of his psychic powers around me…"
The being standing across from us shook his head and turned back to me. "And that leads me to my next point. What in Khaine's name ARE you, Slavhreenur(8)? Your soul is shielded in a layer of golden light that is pleasant to see, but I cannot help but feel slight apprehension in your presence."
"Slav-what?" I asked, confused. That seemed to jolt the Eldar out of his desire to interrogate us. If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn his expression was a bit sheepish.
"Apologies. It means Salvation." The Eldar replied. "I learned your language through my Path of the Outcast, but the word salvation seems… underwhelming."
This seemed to confuse Jurgen as much as it did myself. "How is the Commissar your salvation- oh. Right. The Eldar woman did mention something like that…" My aide seemed satisfied now with his realization, while leaving myself and our 'friend' still in the dark.
"Eldar… woman?" The two of us not cursed by halitosis asked in stereo.
"I mean, that's what she looked like." Jurgen said, shrugging. "A nervous Eldar woman who was very upset at the idea of giving the Commissar a raw deal… And also was wearing quite revealing undergarments."
"Jurgen, you're confusing me." I told him blandly, ignoring the alien who seemed as lost as I was, if not moreso. Obediently, my faithful aide tried to explain and alleviate my lack of understanding.
"It was on Slawkenberg during the summoning ritual, sir." Well that cleared matters up somewhat, but I still had no idea what the smelly Valhallan was talking about; he'd been in the same room as me and seen what I had, hadn't he?
"Jurgen… That was Slaanesh, remember?" I noticed the eyes of the Ranger(9) widening to almost comical levels. "I saw an overly seductive Eldar…"
"She seemed more embarrassed to me, sir." Jurgen replied, shrugging as he politely disagreed with me.
"I'm going to need time to process this…" The Eldar Ranger whispered in shock. "You bargained with an avatar of She Who Thirsts?! How?!"
"Something called the Darkstone." I replied, finally relaxing somewhat as the Xeno seemed non-hostile for the moment. At that the Ranger's fingers gripped his rifle harder.
"How did you come across that… thing?" He spat, and I was taken aback by the pure loathing and rage in his eyes.
"A Harlequin sold it to me." I answered truthfully, figuring I might as well pass the throne-gelt to a deserving target.
"The Laughing God had the Blackened Soul this whole time?" The Ranger whispered, voice shaking and eyes wide in rage. All I could do was shrug helplessly.
"Don't look at me. All the Harlequin said was that smashing a soulstone was a capital offense."
The still unnamed Eldar released his rifle, letting it hang from the sling over his shoulder so he could expressively fling his arms in the air in a series of angry gestures. "That one is the sole exception! He would have known that!"
Of course. Of course the Harlequin was lying to me in order to screw over Slaanesh more, and me with her. "Frak." I muttered.
"So, why exactly have you saved us, Xeno?" Jurgen asked, sensibly getting to the actual important questions. At this our conversational partner finally seemed to calm, and he nodded to Jurgen before inclining his head respectfully towards me.
"It's a part of the Path of Humility(10)." The Eldar explained resolutely.
Now I was even more confused. If there was one thing that was well-known about the Eldar, it was that they had an arrogance unmatched by anyone else in the galaxy. I imagined that humility would have caused them to burst into flames. Still, as skilled a liar as I was, I was pretty good at spotting when someone was lying to me, and this Xeno seemed truthful. Furthermore, his words made me genuinely curious. "What is this… Path of Humility?"
"I imagine you don't know much of our history, let alone what the Path system is." The Ranger replied, a smile spreading across his face as he explained this 'Path'. "But to explain it simply, it is our way out of the mess our ancestors made, with the price being our pride."
"I imagine that many don't take this path." Jurgen replied mildly.
Our apparent friend shook his head. "Some don't, to their own detriment. But many have, myself among them." He pointed at the Orks. "But enough talking. Do you have any incendiary devices?"
"You burn them too?" Jurgen asked, surprised for the first time at finding common ground with an alien.
"Of course. It's the only way to prevent the spores from spreading and taking root." The Eldar replied with a nod.
"Spores?" Jurgen asked, confused once more. It seemed like he wasn't the only one, as the Eldar regarded him oddly.
"...You don't know how the Orks reproduce?"
"They don't do it the same way everyone else does?" Jurgen inquired, confusion only growing on his face.
What followed was a long tirade in the Eldar language (11), before the Ranger paused. "The Orks are a fungus. They reproduce from spores. These spores are incredibly hardy, and come from their corpses. The best way to prevent more Orks from forming is to burn the corpses, and as soon as possible."
"Oh." Jurgen replied, nodding his understanding like a Schola student who'd just had a difficult concept explained to them before turning to me. "Did you know that, Commissar?"
"I'm afraid not." I admitted. Was that why there was the faint taste of mushrooms in my mouth following the death of the Orks? Taking a quick swig from my canteen, I swished the water about in my mouth before spitting it out, just to be safe.
The Eldar's face eventually turned to one of calm. "Very well. But we should move on. They will eventually come for the violence heard here." He waved his hand, and we followed the Xeno. As we trudged along, I made a mental note that I should probably get his name at some point.
Except from One Front Closed: The Effects of the Eldar Integration (Published in 045.M42):
The news of the Integration was met with extreme skepticism across the Imperium. The Eldar, a Xenos Race that had attacked Humanity since the time before the Age of Strife, siding with us? Willing to throw their lot in with those they called mon-keih? It seemed antithetical. Heretical. Impossible. Even as many turned to His Tarot, and the results spoke of an alliance, there seemed to be no way such an action could happen. Not only were they too proud, but our wariness towards the Xenos threat would have likely stifled such a truce across the galaxy. And yet, through the Astropaths, new information began to flow. A Dark Eldar raid intercepted by their Craftworld brethren. Ork Waaaghs diverted. Even entire splinter fleets of the Tyranids were destroyed- and on more than one occasion, by the force of an entire Craftworld. Ships thought lost were returned, the crews swearing up and down that they had been saved by the Corsairs. There were still reports of some of the Eldar holding to their nature, such as the Craftworld Biel-Tan, more and more reports flooded in of Eldar stepping in to aid humanity. Such a trend was unprecedented. And then… the Battle of Perlia. The first phase was, to put it frankly, an utter catastrophe. Of the ships that exited the Warp, only half managed to make planetfall, the Ork Warboss having amassed a fleet far larger than expected. These forces were unlikely to hold off the Greenskin horde, especially as the Imperial Navy was still watching for the rumored Eldar force spotted nearby. For the time, the forces that had made it to the surface of the planet were cut off and on their own- their only hope to kill the warboss. Thus, a desperate battle began, with only a portion of the planet held under Guard control, resisting wave after wave of Greenskin assaults. But it wouldn't be from the front that caused the salvation of the Planet, but from behind the lines…
1: If the Inquisition discovered a Daemon Prince trying to live a normal life, there would be a schism on whether to try to banish him or use him as a weapon.
2: While Jurgen would have likely been able to use a warp portal, this tactic would still be risky- especially since that portal would undoubtedly connect to the nearest cult of Slaanesh, wherever that may have been, and likely exposing Cain's true nature to the Inquisition much earlier. From what I have gathered, the nearest cult at the time was a few systems over, being purged by the forces of the Inquisition.
3: The paperwork for sending a tutor to Ciaphas was finished just after the Gravalax Incident, which rendered such necessities moot.
4: Again, there is no known explanation as to why Ciaphas can use the Warp around Jurgen when literally no one else can. Most Inquisitors throw their hands in the air and just say 'Emperor's Blessing', while a few try to figure it out. Most who don't throw their hands into the air go more insane.
5: Awsie is a term for the Catachan accent. To date, no one remembers what the term refers to.
6: A possible explanation. Ciaphas is, first and foremost, a master of Biomancy, able to even twist and mold the flesh of daemons.
7: At the time, it was difficult for many to know the difference between the Dark Eldar and their less sadistic kin.
8: This word roughly translates to 'Salvation'. As Cain opened up the Path of Humility to the Eldar, thereby providing a path to salvation, the Eldar among the Imperium refer to him by this title.
9: The fact that Cain was able to face down Slaanesh herself and live probably helped the Eldar believe that he was a savior figure. The fact that he had been turned into a Daemon and still served the God-Emperor only reinforced this, once it got out.
10: This is what the Oath of Loyalty is termed by the Imperial or 'Oathsworn' Eldar; by forsaking their arrogance and humbling themselves, they are free of the Thirst. For many, it's a bitter pill to swallow. For others not so much. But almost all that have committed to this action seem to agree that it's worth it.
11: As a speaker of their language, I have elected to remove the paragraph cursing the inability for authorities to part with necessary information for little to no reason.