After Rylanor's gift, the Reclaimers warmed up to us considerably. Gries invited us to follow him up to the bridge of the Battle Barge for a proper briefing. As our party made its way through the well maintained halls and passageways (somewhat less claustrophobic than other vessels can sometimes be due to everything being sized to fit Astartes), Felecia made some small talk with Drumon as we walked towards our destination. I stayed back a bit to overhear it, concerned that in her enthusiasm she might let slip something we'd rather not come up just yet. Fortunately, so far at least the conversation seemed innocent enough.
"So, is it true?" Drumon's tone was nearly reverent as he regarded our resident cog-girl. He was treating her very respectfully considering he was one of the Emperor's Angels addressing someone he believed to be a mere mortal. "The Tech-Priests whisper that you're blessed."
Ah, that explained the respect. I'd forgotten for a moment that these Astartes and this one in particular worshipped the Clockwork Emperor. If they had heard about what our quirky Techpriestess had gotten up to (officially at least) on Gravalax, then it was a wonder they weren't kissing her feet like the other machine worshippers we'd been around."The news got here already?" Felecia asked, surprised at such. I however wasn't; as a Commissar you learned that there was nothing in the universe that spread faster than idle gossip.
The Techmarine's expression was one of awed rapture, looking at Felecia the way I'd looked at Saint Celestine before mistaking her for a daemon; I still needed to apologize for that now that I thought of it. His voice was a low whisper of religious ecstasy, and I could swear I saw tears glimmering in his eye. "So it is true then? You uncovered an STC? Not even a fragment, but a full and complete STC?"
She nodded, equal parts giddy and solemn. "For a water purification station, yes." Felecia elaborated. "Guided by The Omnissiah, of course." She hastily added.
If he weren't an Astartes(1), with the way Drumon was looking at Felecia in that moment I'd have feared for her virtue. I suppose nothing fires up a Cogboy's engine quite like talking about archaeotech. "I see…" He suddenly paused in mid sentence then, his eyes moving over the empty hall to our side. That didn't look good, since we were in tight quarters with a Space Marine who seemed to be staring at phantoms. If Drumon went crazy for whatever reason, my first priority was getting between him and Amberley.
"Captain." The Techmarine stated, body and voice tense. "I saw a small dragon-like creature made of necrodermis scamper around over there." I couldn't help myself, and immediately facepalmed. God-Emperor damnit Maggy. The Space Marine officer seemed to notice my reaction, so turned to me rather than his Battle-Brother.
"Commissar, you seem to have an idea of what might be going on. What is it? A new type of Necron weapon?" Gries asked me, face stern and hand hovering near his weapon. Best if I try to defuse this situation quickly lest they decide we were in league with the 'Necrons', whatever those were.
"No, Lord Captain, it's not. It's… well. It's rather hard to explain, and you wouldn't believe me either." Evidently, Maggy liked the Techmarine enough to sync up with him(2).
"I'm listening regardless, Commissar." Drumon chipped in, looking at a seemingly empty section of corridor. "If it is not a weapon, then what is it?"
"Drumon, there's nothing there." Gries stated with a hint of concern, carefully looking at the spot where his Battle-Brother was staring. In response to this statement, Drumon walked over to the area had been staring at, and tentatively poked at air. This just increased Captain Gries obvious concern and bewilderment. "What exactly are you doing, Drumon?"
"Feeling the dragon, sir." Gritting his teeth in frustration, the Captain stomped over right in front of where Drumon was poking at things none of the rest of us (save Felecia) could see. This caused Drumon to startle and look around awkwardly. "It's… it's gone."
Gries laid a hand on the Techmarine's shoulder, voice firm. "Because it was never there, brother. Are your augmentics functioning correctly?"
Drumon cocked his head, very similar to how Felecia would when she was consulting her cerebral augmentics. "Running diagnostic… All readings come back clear and operating at peak efficiency. The Machine-Spirits seem to be particularly pleased today."'
The combead in my ear crackled, Maggy's voice soon flowing through it. "I LIKE HIM."
"I noticed." I whispered sarcastically. Yet again I was seeing why the Emperor referred to the Xeno god as a friendly and eager canid.
"Commissar?" Drumon asked, looking over to me; Astartes ears would have easily caught my faint whisper. "Who are you talking to?"
"The dragon you saw." I answered truthfully. If Maggy liked Drumon enough to appear before him, then who was I to gainsay the Omnissiah? At the very least, I didn't want the friendly dragon to start having a less than friendly attitude towards myself. "He's real, and again, very difficult to explain."
"I think you owe us that explanation, Commissar." Gries replied coolly, threat implicit in his tone.
"'SUP, BITCHES?" Mag'ladroth's voice suddenly boomed out from Felecia's mouth. Gries didn't move or so much as twitch, which was surprising as I'd fully expected him to at least draw his weapons in alarm. The possessed Techpriestess soon explained the reason for the Captain's lack of action. "AND DON'T TAKE IT OUT ON YOUR ARMOR. I ASKED IT TO LET ME EXPLAIN." 'Can paralyse anyone in powered armor', yet another checkmark on the list of reasons why Maggy was terrifying and I was glad he liked us.
"We do not have time for this, Mag'ladroth." Fyodor groaned in exasperation, the sort that comes from having to herd Felind auxilia. Instantly Drumon's head snapped towards the Lord Inquisitor, and Gries followed suit as best he could considering his immobilized armor.
"Did you just say…" The Techmarine began before Maggy cut him off.
"OH, SO YOU KNOW THAT NAME. HI AMBERLEY." Amberley was shaking like a leaf, so I stepped next to her and put a hand on her shoulder in reassurance. She gripped my hand like it was a lifeline, anchoring her within the turbulent sea of terror I felt pouring from her soul. "IF YOU'RE SCARED, DON'T BE. I CAN ASSURE YOU THAT I AM A VERY FRIENDLY METAL DRAGON GOD."
Somehow I doubted that made Amberley feel any better after how the Void Dragon had threatened her upon their first meeting, or that the Xeno god's words reassured her in the least(3).
"Transcendent Shard." Karamazov explained hastily, trying to defuse the situation that our benevolent mechanical abomination had cheerfully gotten us into. "While not harmless, it seems to be firmly allied to us."
Feleica's head nodded in that mechanical way that showed she wasn't currently behind the controls of her own body; I still had no idea just HOW she was okay with that(4). "NO SHIT. AND I REMEMBER THE ANATOLIAN MENTIONING YOUR DADDY WHEN I PESTERED HIM ABOUT THE GOINGS-ON. SAID HE'D BRING HIM AND ANGRON DOWN TO MEET ME AFTER THE CRUSADE." The Xenos that also happened to be the Clockwork Emperor clicked Felecia's tongue in frustration and shook her head. "NEVER DID GET AN ANSWER TO WHY HE WANTED THOSE TWO SPECIFICALLY TO MEET WITH ME."
Rylanor spoke up then, eyes distant as he drifted into memories of the distant past, a time of legend and myth for everyone else in the corridor. "If this Xenos truly commands all technology, I assume that the Emperor, Beloved By All, wanted to bring Angron to them to help alleviate the effects of the Butcher's Nails." Seeing the incomprehension from most of us, he continued. "It was a crude and barbaric piece of archaeotech that turned him and his World Eaters into frothing, bloodthirsty berserkers… As for Uncle Ferrus, Ferrus Manus' hands were coated in living metal."
Maggy in Felecia's body nodded sagely. "AH. NECRODERMIS. YEAH, THAT'D EXPLAIN IT." The C'Tan Shard seemed to think hard for a moment before seemingly coming to a realization. "HOLD ON A SEC…" There was a pause, as Felecia suddenly returned to not being possessed by a Star God. It was a temporary return of control, as less than a minute later her eyes went glassy again and a smug smirk curled across her features. "AH, YEP. GOT HIS SOUL."
….What?
"What?" Nearly all of us whispered my unspoken thought, the two Reclaimers in particular utterly shocked.
The possessed Cog-girl's head nodded eagerly, and her mechadendrite was wagging like it was the tail of an ecstatic canid. "YUP! HIS SOUL IS MINE BY RIGHT OF NECRODERMIS. THE SOCIOPATHS SCOOPED HIM AWAY, BUT I GOT IT IN THE END." Felecia's hands became cupped, and began moving over her form as if investigating it.
"This seems remarkably childish." A new, gruff voice stated languidly from out of Felecia's mouth, as she made motions with her hand like she was trying to use an invisible hand puppet. It switched back to Maggy's more familiar, booming mechanical tone as the friendly star eater snarked back at the new voice.
"OH, YOU KNOW YOU LOVE IT."
The new voice sighed in reluctant agreement as it shrugged Felecia's shoulders in a more natural manner than Maggy did. "Anything to be able to speak again…"
"Is that who I think it is?" I squeaked in shock, connecting the dots from what Maggy had said and this new voice. In response to the voice after they'd recovered from their own shock, the two Astartes knelt with reverent tears in their eyes as they looked at Felecia. Or rather, the soul that currently possessed her body. "Yes… yes it is…(5)" I spoke softly, feeling rather faint. Could a Daemon Prince even faint (6)? I mean yes, I suppose that I had fainted a bit after the 609th had for some incomprehensible reason accepted me as I was and Karamazov had pronounced me a Daemon-Saint, but still.
Felecia's tone switched back to the more familiar booming voice of Maggy. "SORRY FOR THE LACK OF COMMUNICATION. I CAN'T REALLY GIVE HIM A BODY, JUST A MOUTHPIECE."
Again the switch between tones of voice; it was quickly getting confusing. "I appreciate it, Xeno."
Snickering came from out of Felecia's mouth. "BET YOU NEVER THOUGHT THAT'D BE COMING OUT OF YOUR MOUTH, HUH?"
Now a frustrated sigh. "No, I certainly didn't…"
Yeah, rather confusing, and I spared a moment of consideration for Felecia's poor vocal cords when the Loyalist Emperor's Children Astartes stepped forward with a big grin.
"So, Uncle Ferrus returns."
Felecia's eyes blinked, before her mouth split into a wide grin. "Rylanor? Is that you?"
Rylanor smiled, and I could see his eyes getting misty at being reunited with his 'uncle'. "It is, uncle. I managed to survive this long." He looked down, shame pouring from his soul. "I am… sorry, Uncle Ferrus. I couldn't stop my bastard father, Fulgrim."
Felecia's body stepped forward, and did its best to wrap its arms around the Astartes. "I don't blame you. And I'm glad you're still following my direct order to refer to me as 'uncle'. My Sons aren't giving you any trouble, right?"
We all winced as Rylanor's mood soured and he delivered the bad news. "They appear to have a capacity for jokes equal to your brother, Rogal."
The spirit of Ferrus Manus lightly slammed Felecia's head against Rylanor's lower chest repeatedly, much like many would beat their heads against a wall in frustration. "Damn it."
"Father…" Captain Gries whispered in awe, tears streaming from his eyes as he stared at the possessed Cog-girl. Drumon was right there beside him. Felecia's form released its embrace on Rylanor, and strode forth to place her hands on the shoulders of the kneeling Astartes before continuing on in that gruff voice, thick with emotion.
"My Sons… I am sorry I cannot be there with you, but only speak through a Xeno."
"They're going to try to kidnap Felecia, aren't they?" I asked Amberley, who nodded mutely while her left eye twitched(7). As the Primarch inhabiting our Techpriestess' body continued to speak, my own eye began to twitch right alongside hers.
"I understand that being around one of Fulgrim's sons makes you want to lose your head, but you must be head and shoulders above your own emotions and think rationally. Thinking with your heart and not with your head cost me the latter. Think ahead, and let the grudge go for him, at least. It's a heady tactic, but it'll have to do(8)."
…Seriously, what the frak? One of the God-Emperor's own Sons, making puns about his own violent decapitation that were so bad they caused my cursed form physical pain? How was this my existence? The two Reclaimers however seemed to have had the jokes fly completely over their heads… Oh sweet Emperor, now he had me doing it!
Regardless, Gries and Drumon seemed blind and deaf to our reactions, focused solely upon the tiny Cog-Girl being possessed by their Primarch. "...We will do as you have ordered, Father." Both of them were shaking with emotion, tears streaming freely from their eyes which were locked upon Felecia's gentle smile as Ferrus Manus continued speaking through her.
"I am proud of you, my Sons. Now, I think I'm getting ahead of myself, but I do not think that the Dragon would be pleased with you forcefully adding his favorite tech-priestess to your head count."
Maggy's booming voice soon followed, confirming that statement. "NO, I WOULD NOT."
"Crisis averted." Karamazov muttered to me as I nodded, glad to see that we wouldn't have to worry about our resident Cog-girl getting abducted as a holy relic.
It obviously pained Captain Gries to agree, but there was little else he could do when instructed by both his Primarch and the Omissiah. "V-very well, Father…" Then he went on, obviously desperate not to lose this connection to his beloved Genefather. "But… do you… perhaps…"
Again Maggy interjected. "GIVE ME A SERVO-SKULL, AND I CAN PROBABLY HOOK YOU UP WITH A SOURCE OF CONSTANT COMMUNICATION." This time there were winces even from the Reclaimers as Felecia's glassy eyes blinked in confusion. "WHAT? WHAT DID I SAY?"
"I approve." Ferrus snorted from out of Felecia's mouth.
Again her posture and eyes changed, showing that the Void Dragon was once more in control as realization came over the Tech-Priestess' face. "OH. OH, RIGHT…"
I imagine that the bridge crew were surprised with Gries ordering a servo-skull to be brought to them on the double, but they seemed disciplined enough to follow through without question. Soon, a servo-skull was brought forwards, and Felecia placed a hand upon the skull. For a moment, there was no effect, before the eyes glowed a sickly green light tinged with the gleam of steel and flickers of gold. The optics flickered, as if blinking, before the gruff voice of Ferrus Manus emanated from it.
"...A talking head." The servo-skull chuckled. "I can work with this." The servo-skull moved around, bobbing in the air as it inspected the bridge. The menials and crew hastily got out of its way, many staring with awe after Drumon and Gries had a quiet word with them. The servo-skull, now housing the soul of a Primarch, returned to our party before speaking once more. "This is far better than serving as a headpiece on Horus' throne." That statement caught my attention, and my curiosity boiled over rapidly.
"Lord Manus?" I asked questioningly, causing those few who Gries and Drumon hadn't already spoken with to startle and stare at the hovering skull with awe. The skull bobbed to face me, silent a moment before the Primarch's voice echoed out of it.
"Before your… friend yanked my soul into himself, Horus had dragged me out of the Warp and entombed me in my own skull. I was then placed as a trophy upon his command throne on the Vengeful Spirit. I was there, watching every action, every atrocity throughout the civil war." He was quiet a moment, before speaking, gruff voice soft and tinged with emotions. "I… I saw the duels."
There were only two duels upon the Vengeful Spirit worth mentioning, and I was gripped by religious awe at the implications. "You saw, my Lord? The death of Blessed Sanguinius? The duel between the Arch-Heretic Horus and the God-Emperor?" I whispered, mouth dry.
Ferrus Manus paused, then the skull turned to stare at the Ancient of Rites. "...Rylanor? Care to explain?"
Rylanor placed a hand over his eyes, seemingly pained. "Lorgar's first religion seems to have become the state religion of the Imperium(9), Uncle Ferrus." The Ancient informed the ensouled skull, sighing with bone weary exasperation. "I imagine that The Imperial Truth is now seen as heresy, at best. Assuming it's even remembered at all."
The Captain of the Reclaimers stepped forward, posture respectful. "The majority of the Astartes remembered that He on Terra wanted to be seen as a Man, not a god." Gries replied.
"Oh thank goodness for small mercies." Ferrus groaned, a sigh somehow escaping the servo-skull. It spun around for a moment like a canid trying to catch its tail, seemingly looking for something. "Also, is there a vox device installed in this thing? Is that how I'm talking?"
Felecia, or rather the Xeno god that sometimes made use of her body, shrugged. "I MEAN, IT'S MORE LIKE I TWISTED THE METAL TO MAKE ONE. A MORE PROPER VOX CASTER CAN BE INSTALLED LATER." Maggy explained. The Captain waved the serfs away, silently telling them that this was fine, before returning his attention to the skull.
"Father… you saw it? The confrontation between the Great Angel and the Emperor and the traitor, Horus?" The skull bobbed up and down again in acknowledgement, as if nodding.
"I did. Sanguinius fought bravely, but Horus was filled with all of that dark power and was unstoppable. On top of that, I could see that Sanguinius was exhausted and worn down by constant fighting, while Horus was fresh and filled with Warp energy." Ferrus' voice paused, becoming even more somber as he continued to speak of the legendary moment where the Great Angel fell, an event the Imperium as a whole still mourned to this day. "Horus offered him a position in his treachery, to stand beside him as they once had before. But Sanguinius refused him soundly, loyal to the end. They fought fiercely, more savagely than I'd ever seen either of them do so before. For a moment, in the most violent moment of the duel, Sanguinius hesitated. I could feel his sadness, his reluctance to strike down his brother. But Horus took advantage of that moment, and Sanguinius died at the hands of the brother he was once closest to. Even in defeat, my brother was great and noble, the best of us all. He did not plead for mercy. He did not beg. He was defiant to the end."
Silence filled the room, before I spoke once more, voice hesitant after hearing of the Angel's death. But there was still more to know, more history clouded by time and myth, and my desire to know was overwhelming. "And what of… the Martyrs?"
The skull turned to regard me once again. "There were two; a Custodian, and a humble Guardsman who stood defiantly before Horus. The Guardsman seemed to know The Emperor well."
"Pius was real." I whispered in awe. The Patron Saint of the Imperial Guard had been more than just legend and myth, but a real person. A simple Guardsman who had stood between his Emperor and the Arch-Traitor, loyal and dutiful even in the face of certain death. A man who'd willingly given his life to give the God-Emperor just one moment more, one chance to strike down His traitorous Son. The thought filled me with reverence and pride at the thought that I was part of that legacy, part of the Imperial Guard who held the line; even if my cowardice dishonored that legacy even before my transformation into a walking ball of heresy.
Ferrus' servo-skull nodded again before continuing. "That wasn't all. Before Dorn and the Khan found Him, He spoke to Horus one last time." Everyone on the bridge had already been paying rapt attention, but now all of us were leaning in towards the servo-skull, trying to catch every word. What had the God-Emperor said to the most hated traitor to the Imperium?
"What did He say?" Karamazov whispered, clutching at his own aquila as he eagerly anticipated hearing the words of his god. He was not alone, as I and everyone else there were also awash in religious rapture at hearing the God-Emperor's own words, perhaps some of the last words He spoke before His ascension to the Golden Throne. But none of us could have expected what Ferrus Manus said next through his possessed servo-skull.
"I wait for you, and I forgive you."
My face was a mask of stunned disbelief and awe, as were those of everyone else who heard those incomprehensible words. Faced with the Arch-Traitor, one who had brought war to Holy Terra itself and torn the Imperium of old asunder, who had just brutally murdered the fairest and most beloved of all the Primarchs, the God-Emperor had FORGIVEN all of that? I spoke shakily, certain that I must have misheard Lord Ferrus. "My Lord… The Emperor. He… He said that…"
The servo-skull nodded solemnly, or as solemn as a floating skull possessed by the soul of a Demi-God could be. "He forgave him. I don't care what Angron said, He did love us. I saw Him weeping as He reached out towards Sanguinius' broken body, and how He could barely bring Himself to strike down my traitor brother. At the very least, He loved Horus enough to forgive him, even if He felt nothing for the rest of us. And I doubt that He didn't hold at least some affection for all of His Primarchs, His Sons."
There was utter silence for a long moment before the Lord Inquisitor broke it, eyes wide with a look of having come to a profoundly disturbing realization. "The God-Emperor forgave the Arch-Heretic, Horus. Does that… Does that count as an official Imperial Pardon?" Karamazov asked weakly, the mere thought obviously making him sick with anxiety and mixed feelings. I too had extremely mixed and bitter feelings about the possibility of karkking Horus himself being pardoned and forgiven. But shamefully, amongst the feelings of disbelief and disgust was a growing nugget of brilliant hope. Selfishly, I thought how if the God-Emperor could have forgiven Horus himself, then maybe He was correct in my not being truly damned? Then again I was just some cowardly Commissar that kept getting lucky before I got damned, not a Son of the God-Emperor Himself; I was nothing special(10).
The servo-skull's anti-grav motors whirred as it turned side to side, akin to a shaking of the head. Ferrus' voice was even grimmer when it came out of it, with a tinge of sadness to it. "No… A pardon only works if it's accepted. Horus died smiling even as tears of regret poured from his eyes. I think that he saw himself as beyond redemption, and so accepted his demise. I also saw the death of Garviel Loken; stabbed by that bastard Erebus, right as the Loyalist Luna Wolf had almost gotten through to Abaddon, encouraging him to surrender. Without that moment, perhaps the Traitors would have been brought back into the Imperial fold. But it wasn't to be."
I swallowed thickly as I took in that name. Erebus. It just oozed with evil and malevolence, bringing to mind images of treachery, betrayal, and utter vileness. I looked to the side to see that Lord Karamazov's teeth were grinding together, and his eyes were flashing with rage.
"Lord Inquisitor?" Amberley asked, obviously concerned for the man who had quickly become a mentor to us both. Fyodor drew in a sharp breath, getting control of himself again as he spoke, every word dripping with righteous disgust.
"Erebus. The Dark Apostle. The Vile One. The Hand of Destiny." He turned to face me then, features grim. "That was the man who orchestrated the entire Heresy, according to the Custodes and everything else I've been able to piece together; the Oathsworn confirmed it as well. An influential member of the Word Bearers Legion. He tempted his Primarch, Lorgar, who in turn tempted Horus, and then…" His fists were shaking with holy fury at the thought of such a wretched creature as this Erebus. "He serves as one of the heads of the Word Bearers to this day."
Fyodor's eyes met and held with mine, enraged determination within them. "Ciaphas, hear me well. If you should ever find him, then nothing is too painful or cruel as a punishment for this willfully damned soul. A quick death is far too good for him, especially as with Lord Manus' testimony every Black Crusade, every atrocity of the Traitor Legions for the past ten thousand years can be laid at his treacherous feet." I knew what he was asking of me. But if this 'person', who was apparently personally responsible for the entire Heresy, had truly served Chaos so well against the Imperium, then there was no way that I'd be that Favored to be able to enact justice as my so-called patron probably wanted him to keep existing(11).
"I'll see what I can do." I replied honestly. Someone that evil needed to be scourged from the God-Emperor's galaxy as quickly as possible, no matter the cost; justice had already been delayed for over ten thousand years after all.
Karamazov held my eyes for a few moments more before nodding in satisfaction, drawing in a deep breath before turning to the Astartes Captain once the Lord Inquisitor had gathered himself. "Good. Thank you, Ciaphas. Now, Captain, what of the planet? Have there been any serious actions that you've observed?"
The Space Marine grimaced. "There was an attempt by their naval forces to fire upon our Battle Barge." Gries replied bluntly. Karamazov just facepalmed, while Gries and Drumon nodded in sympathy. "Yes, we thought so too."
Chills went down my spine at this piece of news, indicating that things were worse than I'd initially thought. "If the naval forces have mutinied…"
Another nod from the Captain seemed to confirm my unspoken supposition. "The most recent status reports show that a full scale civil war has broken out." Gries said grimly, voice heavy with the weight of duty. "This rebellion must be crushed swiftly. Our entire Company is prepared to strike every identified rebel stronghold while bolstering the loyalist battlelines. We will deploy to the capital city immediately."
Here Drumon interjected. "Cogitator analysis estimates that barring unforeseen circumstances, the rebel forces will be broken and the war essentially won within thirty-six hours(12) of our deployment." Less than two days to end a planet-wide war. It was a heady and chilling reminder of what a Company of Space Marines were capable of. Frak, according to stories and reports, a single squad of Astartes in the right place at the right time was enough to save or destroy entire worlds. Sometimes even just one lone Space Marine could make the difference between victory and defeat. An entire hundred strong Company? I briefly felt a fleeting sense of pity for the rebels who had no idea what they were about to face.
Gries turned his eyes to the servo-skull, demeanor going from hardened war leader to a juvie pleading for their desired Emperor's Day gift. "Come with us. Father…"
Again the servo-skull swayed from side to side, rotating in its version of a headshake. "No, I can't lead you like this." Ferrus explained, the mechanized skull floating over to gently press itself against the Captain's own forehead in a familial gesture. "Lead them in my absence, my son."
Swallowing down his feelings, the Captain nodded resolutely, though I could feel the awe in him at being entrusted this task by his beloved Primarch. Determination welled and overflowed from his soul, and I imagined that he was silently vowing that he would not let his returned Genefather down. With that, he departed from the bridge and led our group to the hangar where mighty gunships awaited deployment. The open space was comforting in a way, but reminded me of the many times I'd address our regiment in one. "What of the 609th?" I asked, curious as to how my people would be used in the battle to come.
"If you're referring to your Regiment, then they will deploy after us." Gries explained, boarding a Thunderhawk as he spoke. I, somewhat reluctantly, followed him as did the rest of our party. Once we were all inside, the ramp snapped shut and I could hear pressure seals engaging before Captain Gries spoke softly into a vox and with a lurch we were underway. The Astartes joined us in sitting on the provided seats, staring intently at Fyodor. "Inquisitor? You said there was something you wished to speak to me about?" Gries somewhat politely demanded, tone indicating that the Lord Inquisitor should just get on with it. Karamazov looked around the mostly empty craft; it seemed that Gries and Drumon were the only Astartes in this Thunderhawk while the rest of the space was taken up by us, ensuring our privacy. It seemed as though Gries was impatient to hear what the aged man had to say.
"Yes, yes there is." Karamazov said, staring at the two Space Marines before he looked towards me. "Do you see that Aquila?" He asked, pointing to my prison.
Both nodded, with Drumon chiming in. "I do. A fine piece of craftsmanship."
Both were struck nearly dumb at Fyodor's next words. "The God-Emperor made it for Ciaphas." Karamazov explained simply. In response, the Captain and Techmarine both made the sign of the Clockwork Emperor, which I suppose was also the symbol of the Big Friendly Metal Dragon. The Lord Inquisitor gave them a moment to take in the gravity of being in the presence of a relic created by He On Terra Himself, before continuing. "Officially, Ciaphas is a Living Saint."
"Officially?" Gries mused pointedly, eyes shifting back and forth between myself and Karamazov. "And don't you Inquisitors generally shoot such 'Saints' anyways?"
"The foolish and shortsighted do." Karamazov replied drily. "But the reason for his Sainthood is that it's actually a cover. Ciaphas is truly unique in this Galaxy."
Gries' eyes narrowed, focusing on me even as he continued questioning the Inquisitor. "Unique how?"
Fyodor's voice was filled with honesty and faith, trying to impart the confidence he felt in me towards the Astartes. "He serves the God-Emperor faithfully, routinely risking his very soul and existence for Him, even while having been offered everything a servant of the Ruinous Powers could ask for. And yes Captain, I do mean EVERYTHING."
The Captain's eyes snapped open in shock, darting back to stare incredulously at Karamazov. "Everything?! Even…"
The Lord Inquisitor nodded firmly. "Yes. Ciaphas is, technically, a Daemon Prince of Slaanesh, and one that is Highly Favored as well."
"Please don't shoot me." I requested meekly. Gries glanced at me with disbelief before turning back to Fyodor. Astartes may feel no fear, but he was certainly startled, not that I could blame him.
"And you haven't summoned that one Chapter you're rumored to have WHY, exactly?(13)"
"Chapter?" I asked, confused. What Chapter was he talking about? Lord Karamazov already had the support of the Lamenters after all.
"I requested their support." Amberley admitted, still leaving me confused as to what they were talking about. "Only Lord Karamazov answered my distress call."
"Completely unnecessary, if you don't mind me saying Miss Vail." Jurgen spoke up from the corner of the craft, where he was desperately trying not to be airsick and distracting himself with his usual 'educational' dataslates. "The Commissar surrendered to your custody."
Amberlet flushed, embarrassed and immediately going on the defensive. "I had just witnessed him fight a Genestealer Patriarch in Single Combat and nearly accidentally create a Warpstorm that would be second only to the Eye of Terror in scale. Forgive me for fearing the worst." Amberley snarked testily. She turned to Karamazov, voice somewhat accusing as she continued to defend her actions. She certainly didn't need to defend them to me, as anyone sane would have panicked when confronted with the full truth of my existence. "Speaking of, something has troubled me the last few weeks. I sent out that distress call to every Inquisition aligned outpost in the whole sector. Why was it only you and the Lamenters that responded?"
"And Dominique." Karamazov pointed out mildly.
"And him, yes, of course." Amberley amended, still a bit testy. "I specifically requested more. Emperor's sake, I requested everything that could be mustered as quickly as it could get there!"
Fyodor gave a slight shug. "I assure you Miss Vail, your message was received by more than just myself. There was a quick Conclave hastily convened, and I was sent. My honest guess is that they were hoping that if it was as serious as you suggested, that I would perish in the attempt to bring order." The aged Inquisitor mused these things aloud casually, as the rest of us stared at him aghast.
"I had a Daemon Prince in my custody, the T'au ready to wage war, and a confirmed Genestealer infestation, and they decided that this was how they'd wash their hands of you?" Amberley asked, face incredulous and voice slightly shrill.
"From what I can gather, yes. For some of my rivals, losing a planetary system or even more would be a bargain in exchange for no longer dealing with me." Karamazov said plainly, albeit with a tone of frustration and disappointment. I could well understand his exasperation, as the thought of writing off entire planets in order to kill off a single, faithful servant of the God-Emperor seemed utterly obscene. As the pilot, beyond our sight or ability to hear us, banked into a descent the Lord Inquisitor caught Gries' gaze once more with his own countenance utterly serious. "But Captain, do know that everyone here as well as everyone in his regiment are aware of Ciaphas' nature; a Daemon Prince completely loyal to the Emperor of Mankind and His Imperium. As I said earlier, he is completely unique. I decided that, should the worst come to pass and this rebellion is in the service of the Dark Powers, then you should know the truth of the resource you have to call upon." Captain Gries nodded respectfully, understanding of the trust Karamazov and I were showing him in order to better coordinate our efforts. Then Fyodor turned to me, eyes sad but firm, and I dreaded whatever it was he was about to ask of me. "Ciaphas, heed me. If we come across a threat on the level of a Daemon or a deployment of Chaos Space Marines, I want you to be willing to unleash yourself." He stated the order… no, it was a request, as solemnly as possible. Sweat beaded on my brow in stress and panic, certain he couldn't truly understand what he was asking of me.
Swallowing my fear down, I responded. "My Lord, I fear you ask me to risk too much. Not just for myself, but for us all." I breathed out, both hands clutching the Aquila in a white knuckled grip. "You know that this Aquila is my prison and salvation both, Lord. And it was in a moment of fear, rage, and desperation that I removed it." Again I swallowed, then forced myself to spit out my confession, my admittance of how close I came to damnation. "When… when I took it off, I almost lost myself. To do so again…" My tone was pleading, showing my cowardice for all to see, but Karamazov looked upon me with compassion rather than judgement. Quietly, he asked a question.
"What brought you back?"
Well, this was going to be embarrassing. I flushed scarlet, scratching at my cheek. "...Amberley. She brought me back." I admitted honestly and sincerely(14), as Amberley blushed. To save her from further embarrassment, I quickly went on. "That, and my new sword."
"New sword?" Drumon asked, perking up and perhaps thinking that he might get the chance to behold another relic crafted by the God-Emperor. "Can I see it, please?"
Well, that was a reasonable enough request. I concentrated, and sure enough the bone-like blade appeared in my sword hand.
"HOLY FUCK!" Maggy exclaimed loudly, startling all of us as he hadn't even given any warning of taking control of Felecia again. "THE THUMB?!"
I blinked, examining the blade in confusion and trying to see if it was carved out of the thumb bone of some massive Xenos or something. "The… thumb?"
Felecia came back to herself, and Maggy's voice came out over the vox-speaker in the Thunderhawk's passenger cabin. "FELECIA, CONTACT ILLRIC RIGHT NOW. SERIOUSLY, RIGHT THIS FUCKING SECOND! TELL HIM CIAPHAS WIELDS THE THUMB OF MORAI-HEG, GIFTED TO HIM BY SLAANESH." The Tech-priestess immediately began to do so with Drumon's help, setting a vox-link back to the regiment. The Friendly Metal Dragon continued speaking through the vox-speaker, this time addressing me. "I'M SURE HE'LL EXPLAIN WHY THAT'S IMPORTANT, CIAPHAS. BUT SERIOUSLY, DISGUISE THAT. IF ANYONE CHAOTIC SEES YOU WIELDING THAT, THEY WILL KNOW SLAANESH FAVORS YOU." Yeah, that didn't sound good.
"Disguise it how?" I asked; I'd had a lifetime of experience in hiding who and what I am, it shouldn't be too much harder to hide my new sword. Still, a little help in figuring out HOW exactly to do so would be appreciated. Maggy started giving me clear instructions.
"IMAGINE IT AS YOUR CHAINSWORD. I PICKED UP ITS MACHINE-SPIRIT WHEN IT WAS DESTROYED." I did so and surely enough, even through the Aquila, the pure bone-white blade flowed like the wax off of a votive candle and warped into the shape of a Chainsword, one which had its cutting teeth glowing white like it was pure of any imperfection. Other parts of it glowed with that light as well, though none so brilliantly as the edge itself. Maggy's voice came over the vox again, sounding pleased. "YEAH, THAT SHOULD BE ENOUGH… ALTHOUGH PERHAPS… UNO MOMENTO, POR FAVOR(15)."Suddenly, the Aquila glowed gold, and the blade felt hot for a moment as the white became streaked with burning gold before a nearly invisible sheen of purple covered it. From the tone of Maggy's voice, if he was currently puppeting Felecia's body I was certain that he'd be cocking her head to the side curiously. "HUH. WHO WOULD'VE THOUGHT. THOSE TWO ARE GETTING ALONG."
"Who?" I asked softly, even though I had a feeling I already knew who he was referring to; it just seemed impossible to contemplate. Naturally Maggy had no regard for not speaking of impossible or upsetting things, his answer blunt.
"THE ANATOLIAN AND SLAANESH."
All of us stared at the vox-speaker in disbelief at the suggestion that the God-Emperor would ever work with one of the Dark Powers, my own existence being an aberration. All of us except for my aide, who was holding his stomach and gallantly fighting against his airsickness. "Well, that makes sense." Jurgen mused nonchalantly, as if he wasn't speaking near-heresy. "She did say that He and herself were friends before she became a goddess. She said something about a glamour of some sort(16)."
"Pardon?" I asked weakly. Was Jurgen going insane? Was continued exposure to myself degrading my friend's sanity?
"Don't worry about it, sir." Jurgen stated as mildly as he could with his face going as green as a Grot. "It'll all work out." The Blank promised with a confidence that I certainly didn't feel. "After all, they worked together against the Hive Mind, right(17)?"
Oh, if only it was just the Tyranid Hive Mind that I'd be going up against in the near future. If I'd had any idea of what trouble would find me in the coming days, I'd have fallen upon my own sword and let the God-Emperor sort out where my soul should go.
Copy of Astropathic message sent out to all Iron Hand Successors by the Reclaimers:
FERRUS LIVES!(18)
1: At this time, Ciaphas was still unaware of his ability to restore an Astartes sex drive as he had unknowingly done with Rylanor. After the ability was discovered and understood, it has since been carefully controlled and slowly doled out, as there is little more troubling than a Space Marine going through a much delayed puberty.
2: Mag'ladroth can spread his influence to any piece of machinery, and those who have augmentics in their eyes can see him if he allows it; though, according to him, it's a hallucination but not. I couldn't understand the technical jargon.
3: Ciaphas is entirely correct here, they didn't. I know 'Maggy' was just making a point, but even a century later I still wake up screaming from the night terrors of that moment. Fortunately when I do have the nightmares, Ciapahs is there to get me back to sleep… eventually.
4: I assume it was due to growing up with 'Maggy' as a trusted friend and companion, establishing a bond of adamantium clad trust. As for… other reasons why Felecia was alright with relinquishing complete and total control to another, I'll leave those to Slaanesh.
5: And thus begins Cain's Primarch collection.
6: After a certain piece of news was delivered to Ciaphas after our adventures upon a certain Space Hulk, it was discovered that yes, Daemon Princes can indeed faint from sources other than overfeeding on raw emotions.
7: Amongst the Iron Hands and their Successor Chapters, Felecia Tayber is known as the "Double-Blessed" and "The Voice" due to both being seen as a Prophet of the Omnissiah and for having hosted the spirit of their Genefather, who spoke through her. Those Astartes of Ferrus Manus' line are fiercely protective of her, with those who've become acquainted with her coming to treat her like a much beloved sister. Needless to say, only the insane or suicidally stupid dare mess with someone who can call upon several Chapters worth of overprotective Space Marine "big brothers".
8: Yes, I hate it too.
9: Karamazov has informed me that yes, the Primarch that led Horus to Damnation had originally worshiped The Emperor. The irony is both tragic and sickening.
10: As we would later discover, Ciaphas could not have been more wrong in this opinion, in many ways being the most special and important person to ever be born.
11: Ha. Ha. Ha. Yeah, no. As Slaanesh later confirmed, even the other Chaos Gods hate Erebus, he's just too useful and treacherous for them to easily dispose of. That's on top of Ciaphas again GREATLY underestimating just HOW very Favored he was at that time.
12: Wait… Six times six… DAMNIT SLAANESH!
13: Rumors of the Grey Knights do exist, despite the best efforts of both themselves and the Inquisition.
14: The idea that Ciaphas turned away from phenomenal cosmic power for my sake was as incomprehensible as it was flattering, and gave further credence to his claims of loving me. I have to admit; if we hadn't had an audience I don't quite know what I'd have done at that moment. I'll leave the 'might have beens' to your lurid imaginations.
15: This is a dead language, the name of which has been lost to the Inquisition.
16: I was certain that that report from Jurgen was a hallucination until this point.
17: Again, Jurgen is much wiser than most give him credit for.
18: The Iron Hands who received the message claim they have no understanding of why when this was cried aloud they all stamped their feet beyond that it "Just felt right." Just as the Salamanders and their Successor Chapters had no idea why they were taken by a sudden urge to send the Iron Hands a cease and desist order over "cultural appropriation".
