Chapter Two Hundred and Seventy-Five
I open Odhran’s message: “Magos Issengrund. The Warp incursion has been thwarted, though not under our terms. The Bargests’ objectives and operational capability remain unchanged. My thanks to your Battlesmiths for our new defences and your personal attention in reconstructing Champion Verlin; our losses are far lower than expected from such violent sorceries. Once again, my brothers and I owe our lives to your expertise.
“An on-site investigation into the Noise Marines’ new weapons has revealed that the Traitors are using Quake Shells as supplementary ammunition.
“Rather than firing the entire payload of the psychic death screams from a world hit by Exterminatus ordinance, the sonic weapons are syphoning the screams from the Quake Shell in small quantities. This massively enhances the sonic weapons, creating a blast that partially circumvents armour, wards, and luminen protections.
“A single, micro-second test against Verlin’s modified Geist Pattern Dreadnought leg suggests that these weapons can be countered by Void Shields and Field Bracing.
“Quake Shells are challenging to mass produce, as such, I speculate that these modified sonic weapons do not present a great threat to the Imperium.
Odhran out.”
Attached to the message is a short pict recording of Verlin: the portal detonates, golden fire flares around Verlin’s Dreadnought, insulating him from the explosion. The flames turn into white feathers as the flames ascend, then the feathers fall upon the temple like snow, clashing with rippling waves of purple Warpfire washing through the Auto-Temple, reducing the colossal tsunami of corruptive magic to a mere torrent.
Imperial chants echo around the Auto-Temple, playing from Verlin’s speakers, and clash with the screams of Daemons as their claws and fangs emerge from the flames, hacking at the Astartes only to be deflected by the golden feathers. The brief manifestations dissolve back into the much reduced Warpfire and do not reappear.
Such drama would be far more entertaining if I didn’t have to live it!
I am pleased that my blessing on Verlin’s Dreadnought paid off. It was a gamble as the blessing, much like the one I placed on the Inquisitors rosettes, consumed the majority of my soul reserve. However, without Verlin’s blessèd frame it is quite possible the entire station, and many more of my Stellar Corps, would have fallen to corruption.
Vashatorr was not holding back by blowing up the portal like I first thought, he likely believes he just wiped out Footfall. There is little we can do with such misinformation; Footfall is far too busy a hub to hide its survival.
However, I am less confident in Odhran’s analysis of the Noise Marines’ sonic weapons. Noise Marines are dedicated to Slaanesh: a colossal dicked, big titted shemale god who was murder-fucked into existence by the most advanced, degenerate xenos to ever sail the stars. The one thing I am absolutely sure that they have in excess is screams of one kind or another. I doubt that the Noise Marines specifically require the screams from a dying world and the weapons used today were little more than a convenient prototype and field test.
These weapons represent a direct escalation by Slaanesh to counter the protections of the Stellar Corps. The other three Chaos Gods likely have similar weapons and sorcery prepared. This is both a good and bad thing. On one hand, we are forcing the Ruinous Powers to expend more of their hoarded souls to counter my technologies. On the other hand, one cannot directly fight beings fueled by an infinite sea of energy through attrition.
I gave my ward schemes to the Inquisition when they first arrived at SR-651, well over a year ago. By now, it has likely been disseminated through the Koronus Expanse and into the Calixis Sector. Within the century, most Deathwatch Astartes and Inquisitorial agents should be using them, meaning further resource expenditure for the Ruinous Powers or more thwarted schemes.
As far as I know, the Mechanicus does not have the means to synthesize the required materials as I did not give that away. The impact of these wards will be limited yet highly focused.
I am confident that the rate at which the Chaos Gods acquire power is limited and fluctuates as their influence waxes and wanes. The more power they have to spend for each successful scheme, the fewer schemes they can pull off and the smaller their influence becomes. Most schemes are planet, or at least system bound due to distance and communication limitations, so fewer schemes means fewer lost or crippled planets.
Limit the Chaos Gods' actions on a mass scale and, over time, one should, in theory, be able to neuter the Chaos Gods. Technology cannot solve this equation in isolation. One would also have to provide alternative beings to worship and create conditions where people have little incentive to stray. Fear, faith, and ignorance are just as viable as education, community, and purpose.
I’d argue that fear, faith and ignorance are far cheaper and easier than education, community, and purpose, but also offer a lower quality of life and reduce the capability of civilization as a whole. Less technology, lower quality military, reduced commerce and industry and so on. Over a long time, that can be fatal for a galaxy wide civilization.
The modified sonic weapons are the first stone in what will hopefully be a long line of evidence that my efforts to nudge the galaxy towards a more positive outlook are working. I can’t let myself get too excited or complacent. This could be a statistical outlier and my speculation could be wildly offbeat.
However, so long as I continue to see an investment of souls, sorcery, and Daemons that attempts to counter my work, each time my technology or social policies reject the Ruinous Powers’ corruption, I chip away at their influence and reduce their power.
Buoyed by a wave of positive emotion, I send a heartfelt message to Alpia, thanking her for the surprise tea party and pink dressing gown.
Next, I send Alpia a second, official message, placing her in charge of the Psy-Erants and a third of my Heralds. Alpia is tasked with sealing breaches, incinerating corpses, and casting purification rituals all over Footfall once she docks with the void station. These tasks need doing and will be good, live practice for Alpia’s leadership and administrative skills.
I continue to monitor the situation. For the remainder of the first day at Footfall, the Stellar Corps fortify the docks further, sending out heavy patrols to reinforce the Sororitas, or flush hostiles from their foxholes. The docks remain secure under repeated attacks. At noon on day two, expeditions are also sent to the Chapel of the Third Congregants and the Liege’s Court to restore communications.
Upon arriving at the Liege’s Court, the First Expedition discovers that Obsidian Emporial and Kasballica Mission have far more survivors than expected, the esoteric defences they have to trade in xenos artefacts proving their worth against the Ruinous Powers foul magics as well.
Anyone caught outside of their compounds or a shrine were far less fortunate and the First Expedition purges thousands of Chaos Spawn and Mutants with Volkite Incinerators and intense lasfire.
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With the support of the First Expedition, Obsidian Emporial and Kasballica Mission security forces are willing to leave their compounds; they aid in securing the Leige’s Court. While these local powers have a company of Tempestus Scions and a platoon of Ogryn, their main forces are Imperial Guard equivalents led by a retired Commissar.
That these local forces managed to snag a Commissar who survived his service is indicative of their wealth and political reach as well as a potential avenue of investigation into the criminal leanings of Obsidian Emporial and Kasballica Mission. I am quite happy to dump this problem in the Inquisition’s lap; I send messages to both Lyre and Raphael, cleansing my serpentine mechadendrites of the matter.
The Second Expedition arrives at the Chapel of the Third Congregants. The inhabitants survived the wave of corruption that spread through Footfall; the entire void construction is a consecrated shrine to the Emperor. In comparison, the Hab-fanes, despite their name and appearance, are not proper shrines, they just have shrines within them.
The leader of the Chapel of the Third Congregants, Preacher Ywane, was ill prepared for a heavy assault. The inhabitants and pilgrims secured the ornate bridges and flexible tunnels between the Chapel and the rest of Footfall, yet these faithful Imperial citizens failed to lock down their shuttle hangars properly.
A small group of mutants from the Hab-Fanes and Spire of Intoxicants piloted crude voidcraft into the Hangars, then stormed the Chapel and let the Warpspawn in.
My strike craft did not shoot down these crappy shuttles as the mutants hid among the many civilians fleeing to the Chapel. Such deception was unexpected as the mutants throwing themselves at the docks were rabid.
I am sure there is some tragic tale of abuse, hatred, and revenge behind this act but it matters little. The Chapel of the Third Congregants was purged. Once by forces of the Ruinous Powers, then again by my Second Expedition. Small pockets of survivors were retrieved, including a bloody and irate Tanthus Moross. Preacher Ywane was declared missing, as were his closest followers and several resource caches.
I’m not surprised, just disappointed.
In the early hours of day three since the Stellar Corps stormed Footfall, and day six since we arrived, Battlefleet Koronus and Tithe Fleet Calixis catch up to Spear of Commerce. Rather than fire upon the captured, smoking vessel, Commodore Emil Astoris ignores my recommendation. Ten voidships: one cruiser, two light cruisers, two escorts and five transports, launch hundreds of strike craft and shuttles to recapture the Macro-Conveyor.
As I mutter a string of curses, a vox message arrives. I cross my arms and stare at the name of the sender, flashing on my holographic display.
“Well, let's see what you have to say for yourself, Emil,” I mutter.
“Magos Issengrund. It is with great regret that circumstances tip the scales against your generous, repeated advice. Spear of Commerce is worth far more than you know. The Calixis Sector is under attack by Imperial rebels, rumoured to be led by a Traitor Primarch of all things!
“I do not put much trust in these vile mutterings. However, it is clear that the forces arrayed against us are greater than the Angevin Crusade that conquered the sector in the first place.
“Tithe Fleet Calixis cannot afford to replace Spear of Commerce at this time. Its loss threatens a significant crippling of the Imperial Guard’s ability to purge these traitors with the hottest, most devastating flames at a time when purification is most needed. So too does its loss mean that Tithe Fleet Calixis will be greatly diminished in its capability to funnel Tithes to beleaguered worlds and hungry forges during a time of great strife.
“I am rather baffled that a Magos such as yourself would prioritise men over metal as these sacred temples that sail the void are worth far more than voidsmen, ratings, and menials. We may not have an Imperial Guard detachment with us, but I have faith that my crews can carry the day.
“My crews are well equipped and trained for dealing with fires and pirates and this Karad Vall is no different to the other scum we have weathered on our long voyage to and from Winterscale’s Realm. A few witches, for all their power, can do little against a good smack from an Ogryn’s back hand.
“I am most grateful to you and your terrifying troops for freeing our vessels from the traitors that snuck in amid the Imperial faithful and eager to return the favour to the rebel scum.
“May the Emperor look favourably upon your noble endeavours. Commodore Emil Astoris, commanding officer of the combined fleets of Battlefleet Koronus and Tithe Fleet Calixis, out.”
Oh that utter worm. How dare he drop urgent intelligence in his second letter, ignore my advice, then throw his unearned titles in my face! Yes, I know I really laid it on thick with my ‘suggestions’ but did he really have to throw both my premier rations and nine-tailed whip back in my face out of petty pride?
That void ship is massive. Even if he hit it with every torpedo he has, then shelled it to oblivion, he would still be able to capture it afterwards. It’s not like he can actually blow it up!
The worst he can do is gut it with fire and that is what I was actually hoping for as it needs to be cleansed anyway. So long as he deliberately avoids the Warp engines, the chance of a catastrophic detonation is monumentally small. That’s far better than giving Karrad Vall a chance to escape or slap us in the face with another ritual.
Spear of Commerce is already on fire and heavily damaged. It’s going to need at least a decade in a yard to fix it already. It isn’t going to help bring tithes to anyone any time soon. Even if it had to be completely rebuilt, it would still use far fewer resources than building a new Macro-Conveyor too. Far better than giving Vall a chance to run off with it. Yes, it does bare repeating.
Who knows how many worlds in the poorly developed Koronus Expanse he could overwhelm by filling a Macro-Conveyor with nutty cultists and Vashatorr’s corrupt machines? All of them, that’s how many!
How stupid and optimistic can he and his advisors possibly be? Surely they understand they simply do not have the firepower to destroy such a large mass of Mechanicus forged metal? Yes, a Macro-Conveyor is more valuable than his trained crews, but that’s no reason to throw his people into a meat grinder. Good Emperor, even the maddest of Khornites can get it right: Maim, Kill, Burn. Not Board, Burn, Die.
The Stellar Corps or the Space Marines would succeed, but there is absolutely no chance those Imperial crews have in recapturing Spear of Commerce before Karrad Vall pulls another trick from under his mask. Karrad Vall did not send his entire Wolfpack against my fleet without an escape plan for himself, even if he did fall for my trap and likely thought he could win. One does not escape the halls of the Administratum, let alone the Tithe fleets, without being the most cunning and reliant of cockroaches.
My rant continues unabated as I watch Emil funnel tens of thousands of people onto Spear of Commerce. Their vox chatter is filled with cries for reinforcements and affirmations of progress, not even realising that many of those messages are faked, thanks to the two captured escorts sitting in the Macro-Conveyor’s cargo hold that everyone knows about.
Like the sucker he is, Emil continues to feed his crews onto the Spear of Commerce and eventually the throne gelt drops.
Karrad Vall broadcasts a message at maximum power on every channel and into the warp, disrupting communications across the system and, knowing how this galaxy works, probably lobotomising some poor overworked Astropath multiple systems away thanks to a faulty safety mechanism that hasn’t been maintained for a thousand years because some menial used the instruction manual to roll his lho-stick.
Deciding that I might as well see this shit show through to the end, I connect to the broadcast and turn my third eye towards Spear of Commerce, setting my extra minds to chanting prayers and scanning for scrap code. It wouldn’t do to get hit by some backlash or demonic infection because I was curious.
Rather than being treated to the view of a well desecrated bridge or temple like I expected, I receive an image of Spear of Commerce’s Warp Drive.
Machine God save me from favoured lunatics. How is he standing in that environment without his flesh melting from his bones?