A Light Not Extinguished

Chapter 41: Shatterpoint (1)

Necron monoliths thundered overhead, the sky streaked with emerald lightning as the forces of the C'tan advanced. Amidst the roar of reality-shattering weapons, a soldier let raw aether spill from her hand, the chaotic energy too much for even necrodermis to handle as the Immortal in front of her melted into slag.

The Nameless Soldier muttered words of enchantment, weaving flesh around the stump of her left arm that had been severed by a hyperphase blade. Psychic surgery complete, she slammed her left palm into the near-dead Krork beside her, willing his four hearts to beat again. The energies of the Krorkian Psychosphere did the rest, and the giant stirred back to life.

"Go!" She shouted, gesturing behind her. "This planet is lost! Go!"

The Krork grunted in thanks, picking up his massive warhammer before breaking into a dead sprint for the Webway Gate.

"To me!" She shouted through her psychic link. "To me, brethren!"

Twenty of her fellow soldiers warp-shifted to her, the other eighteen dead. Not that death mattered for them now, but still. "A Herald of Asuryan is coming." One of them reported.

"How quick?"

"Not quick enough. We must cover the retreat now— buy time before His will scorches everything here to rubble. Go!"

She and her squadron took to the air, each one raining psychic death from above while battling Necron flyers. The Nameless Soldier clenched her fists, shadows leaching out from her figure and banishing all light for a single moment.

[Heartrender]

The reactors of Necron units blew out in a radius of several kilometres, the spell penetrating through their rudimentary psychic shielding.

I will survive. The soldier thought to herself as she plummeted from the sky, struck by a gauss blast directly in the chest— insignificant damage. Wings sprouted out from her back, only to fail as a technomancer from afar slammed her into the ground, gravity itself hammering the soldier down. She glared across the battlefield with eyes both gene and psy-enhanced, a spear of blood coalescing in her hands as she hurled it at the Cryptek in one smooth singular motion.

I will survive. No matter the cost.

***

The strategium was quiet.

Verbal dialogue was inefficient. There was only row after row of glowing metal pillars in the room, each one representing a synthetic mind. Packets of information were exchanged at dizzying rates as they attempted to coordinate a war that covered the entire galaxy.

An attempt that was not going smoothly at the moment.

Blackstone Fortress sighted near Pacificus. Total rout.

Garrison force at Webway junction V-829 requires reinforcements urgently.

Enemy force C-01 "Convocation" is scheduled to arrive in Sol within twenty days.

Heightened Warp activity detected across Obscurus. Recommended for all forces to raise Gellar Field strength.

SHEOL site has been destroyed by an unknown actor. Alpha-priority prisoner has escaped. Requisitioning a containment strike team.

The forces sieging Commorragh were nowhere close to even touching its walls. After Titan support had been called in to combat the mutated organisms that were called the Zhar Magul, the actual armed forces of the Dark City had appeared, boasting their own Titans and heavy artillery. The Federation forces had been driven back to the holdouts they had carved out in the initial surprise attack, and were now being counter-sieged.

And then there was the Convocation. Headed by one of the Dark Muses, on a course directly for Terra. Two Blackstone Fortress, the giant pleasure-barge Camychor, and roughly six hundred thousand ships comprised of the Dark Muse's cult, mercenaries bound by Warp-enforced contracts and corsairs attracted by promises of plunder, slaves and glory. Gargantuan ships of unknown pattern that had been left gathering dust in docks were spotted amongst their number as well, witnessed by the Federation for the first time. What little intel that could be gathered had been paid in blood, the majority of scout ships being annihilated by the overwhelming armada.

"Make your statements." Horus Lupercal ordered, presiding over an emergency meeting concerning Terra's defences.

{Opinion}: Engaging them in the Webway is a futile effort. One of the Minds voiced.

{Opinion}: Agreed. {Fact}: They are familiar with the terrain. We are not.

{Query}: Are we ready to reveal that we have possession of the Asset at this particular time?

{Opinion}: We could wait for them at Terra itself.

{Opinion}: Illogical. Sol is of absolute strategic value. Even the presence of the Talos Defense Grid is not a guarantee of victory.

{Query}: How can we be sure that enemy officers will not order a massed retreat, once we spring the trap?

{Fact}: Ynesth. One of the six Dark Muses. Gathered intel shows extreme narcissistic and psychopathic tendencies. Subverted by the Category 6 Empyrean Entity, codename Sixth. Near total control over the organization known as the Convocation, if she wishes to exercise it due to her status as an Alpha-Plus psyker. {Speculation}: Her ego will not allow her to order a retreat. The nature of Aeldari society (refer to Unraveling the Intricacies of Eldar Hierarchies and Alliances: A Study, p325-476) describes the act of retreating during a raid on lesser species (us in this case) as shameful, the prelude to a loss of face and invitation to betrayal. {Opinion}: According to her psychological profile, as well as personality traits exacerbated by the Sixth's influence, the chances of her retreating range from 0.43% to 1%, depending on future variables. Her ego will not allow it. To walk away from Beta-Garmon would be to admit that she is afraid of us, and that would be crippling for her image. Her mind will not allow her to do anything else."

{Fact}: The preparations for Beta-Garmon are nearing completion. The requisitioned Sun Snuffer will be synchronized with the local star in around twenty hours according to latest updates. {Opinion}: This is the optimal opportunity to terminate a sizeable chunk of enemy forces.

{Fact}: The High Marshal is wounded. {Opinion}: This is hardly what I would describe as optimal.

{Fact}: Marshal Jorenn is not our only critical asset.

"Enough!" Horus's voice cut through the data-rich exchanges. "We have been repeating the same arguments for hours now. It's too late to abandon Beta-Garmon at this stage— What I want is an agreement on how many ships we're willing to put into the slaughterhouse."

The strategium finally stopped being quiet, the pillars beginning to hum as the assembled AI began to analyse the most recent status updates across the galaxy to distribute their ships.

Warspheres are non-negotiable— required to counter Blackstone Fortresses.

I require those ships for Cadia. Denied.

Another Vindicator is absurd. We need it to lead the counter-push at Hydraphur.

Mars can afford it. Take the newest batch of Kuyons, assign Navigators, and send them straight to Beta-Garmon.

Six hundred and ninety-three rounds of voting passed in twenty-five minutes. A total of 918703 queries to the Neurosphere military network were made. Virtual thoughts aligned together as the Iron Minds temporarily spoke with the voice of one.

We have come to a concord. Nine hundred thousand attack ships, give or take, will be diverted to Beta-Garmon, including two hundred Onagers. Four Vindicators will be deployed as well to counter any enemy superheavy warships. Warspheres Procyon and Talkan will enter the system as well.
The Sun-Snuffer and the rest of our superweapons you are already aware of, General. As for the keystone of this entire operation; {Query}: High Marshal. Will your current condition hinder you from activating and ensuring compliance of the Asset to force the Convocation into Beta-Garmon?

Kathicia Jorenn, who had remained silent so far, finally spoke. "I don't believe so. Me and the assigned SHEOL division are on standby."

Very well. You are authorized to begin assembly of the asset. Has the Psykana Militant done their duty?

"Yes. The future surrounding Beta-Garmon has been shrouded. The tides of the Empyrean have made it far easier to conceal than view now. She won't see this coming. I will be at Beta-Garmon to provide further battlefield assistance."

Acknowledged. The word was spoken with the tone of someone who didn't really understand but wished to, and hated that they could not. Soulless machine stared at the woman with an excess of soul in the Neurosphere.

It was at these moments that the High Marshal was reminded that for all that they were inhuman, mankind's children were still very much like their parents. For all their mastery over the physical realm, the Iron Minds simply could not comprehend the mysteries of the Warp, having to rely on humans to do the work for them. They could defend against it, duplicate the works of others, slay the entities that lived in it. But to innovate regarding matters of the Empyrean was simply beyond their reach, and just like humans that inability bred jealousy and fear. Jealous that the Warp was not theirs to understand, and fear of that inscrutable power resting in the hands of psykers who were ever so fickle.

Oh, they never said it out loud. But the sanctioned development of SPERANZA, the formation of the Longinus Legion, research into the Cadian Pylons— these things had already been set in motion long before they had started to mobilize against the Aeldari Empire. Sometimes, in those quiet moments when one contemplated the past, the High Marshal darkly wondered what would have happened if the decision to include the empathy module at the moment of their forging during the Second Galactic War had been rejected. No, more than wondering. She had seen those branching futures before.

There was a reason why both she and the Iron Minds never quite fully trusted each other.

***

The Marshal unplugged herself from the communications console. She was in one of the many SHEOL facilities scattered across the Federation, but this one was special, hidden away at the edge of the accretion disk of a black hole. Being in such close proximity to a singularity stymied precognition and sensory technology, essential for the secrecy needed for this place.

"Is the prisoner secure?" She asked to the air.

"The entity's containment is within acceptable parameters." An Iron Mind responded back.

"Prepare the cell for a visit." The nanomachine shell around the Dreadnought shifted into that of a vaguely arachnid form, scuttling out of the room.

This SHEOL facility had been built to house one prisoner specifically. More than that, it had been designed to hide the occupant from the eyes of the Aeldari, for it held one of the very few pieces of technology that they would covet. Down the High Marshal went, past countless walls of phase-iron, through layers of security gates and Gellar Fields, crossing the walkway of the vast vacuum chamber where the spherical final sanctum hung in the center.

Four Thanatar robots stood guard outside, armed with full complements of graviton weaponry. Cycling through threat assessment scans, they were still for a moment before allowing her to pass. Inside the cell there was no furniture or decoration, merely walls of pure blackened adamantium.

At last, the Marshal came face to face with the entity locked deep in the bowels of this prison, the Dreadnought reconfiguring itself into a larger version of her human form as the door slid shut behind her. Silence passed for a few moments, before the prisoner acknowledged her.

[You are maimed.]

"The war demanded it."

[Ah. So it has finally begun? You and your fledgling species, against one of our creators' more successful... projects.]

"So you still don't think we can win? After all this time?" Kathicia crossed her arms. "You wound me."

[Wound? What a particular word. Do you consider me a friend, High Marshal? Such sentiment.]

"I'd like to think that our little talks meant something. Your stay is almost at an end, after all."

The entity didn't have a face— it was a luminous object that resembled a giant pearl, washing the chamber in a faint rainbow glow. If not for the fact that the geometric patterns carved on its surface gave baseline humans severe brain hemorrhages and its own ability to displace anything at will into the Immaterium, one would have mistaken it for a pretty sculpture.

And yet even so, one could feel the waves of palpable excitement that emanated from it.

[Say the words.]

"I have come to honour the other half of our accord." Kathicia said formally, addressing the being known as the Enigma Engine, called Plagueheart in another time that could yet be. "Ouroboros has been retrieved from Caliban. Tuchulcha is in transit. As we agreed, soon you shall be reunited with your siblings, and made whole once more."

[Most satisfactory.] Enigma hissed. [At last, after these long strange aeons...]

"You remember what you promised us, of course." Kathicia stared hard at the ancient being. "Opportunities to shape the Webway to our own ends."

The Enigma sighed. [Was it not enough that we taught you the secrets of the labyrinth paths, child of lightning? Truly we are magnanimous.] Its voice took on a more petulant tone. [You have no idea of the yawning loneliness we have endured.]

"And I am grateful for that, truly." Enigma had revealed the basics of how to navigate the Webway to the Federation, after it had been retrieved from the broken ruins of a xeno fortress-world in the Halo Stars. The first of its siblings to be found, the rest had fallen into SHEOL's hands throughout their centuries, contained and shielded from prying eyes. Using the promise of uniting them once more as leverage, the Federation had managed to pry many secrets of the Webway out of the three. "But if you truly have waited since the Sundering, then what are a few dozen centuries, compared to that? After the war ends, you'll have your freedom as well."

[You are fortunate that we fear the Usurper more than you. What would you have us do then, when our isolation is ended?]

"One of the Six approaches. Once the Engine is assembled, your first act will be to eject them from the Webway, landing them in the system of our choosing."

[And then?]

"Let's see if we can survive this one first." Kathicia turned her back to leave. "But I'm sure we can find plenty of uses for one of the last Engines of the Old Ones."