It has been proven that when faced with a threat to one's very existence, human potential is limitless.
Enkidu had only just donned his new gear and spent an hour on the training deck when news broke: due to a recent surge in "theft" from the supply vaults, the Ship's Director had ordered double patrols. Guards were now stationed at every depot, drawn from mixed clans to ensure mutual surveillance and prevent any "inside jobs."
By the next morning, Adelina had caught a thief. Unsurprisingly, the culprit belonged to the Star Children.
To serve as a grim deterrent, the Director had the thief burned alive with Prothium until nothing but ash remained. The Star Children clan was hit with a devastating series of sanctions: a fifth of their food rations were cut, and a quarter of their workforce was stripped of their posts.
On a ship as severely over-capacity as The Lash of Agony, the consequences were life-threatening. Food was a luxury. To eat, one had to be "useful." Without a post, a slave was left to scavenge for scraps in the dark, or worse, beco "entertainnt" for the bored Astartes.
"So, what is the state of the lower decks?"
Enkidu sheathed his blade and took a warm towel from a servant.
The new equipnt Telax had issued him was of significantly higher quality. It was a Charnabal Sabre, a weapon favored by the duelists of the Third Legion, featuring a monomolecular edge. Unlike a standard longsword, the Charnabal possessed a subtle, recurved arc near the tip, making it difficult to master and even harder for an opponent to predict.
Thanks to the lingering mories of his gene-seed's predecessor, he had adapted to the blade quickly. He found he actually enjoyed the balance of the weapon, though he occasionally fell into a trance while practicing, montarily believing he was still standing guard aboard the Pride of the Emperor.
"It's dangerous, my Lord," Paul reported. "The Star Children have lost too much. Many are roaming the corridors, stealing whatever isn't bolted down to sell on the black market. Many are vocal about demanding an audience with the Director. My clan elders are eting with the Minsk and Heisel leaders now; we intend to restrict all movent for a while."
Enkidu offered a thin smile but said nothing. He left the training deck and returned to his private suite.
He hadn't been back long before he heard the sound of a deliberately light footstep outside his door.
Shana's heart was hamring against her ribs. She was about to see her master—a noble Angel of the Host.
Ordinarily, this would be a high honor, but now it was a gambit of extre risk. She had not been summoned; she was acting on her own initiative—or so she believed. In reality, a crushing sense of urgency had been planted in her mind, forcing her to find courage she didn't possess.
She pulled out a small vanity mirror, touched up her makeup one last ti, and began to creep across the plush carpet on her tiptoes.
The soft shh-shh of her slippers on the fabric sounded like thunder to her ears. She paused every two steps, glancing nervously toward the receiving room.
It was silent. Her master—the silver-haired Angel—was focused on a data-slate, seemingly unaware of her approach.
Shana smoothed her skirt and continued her approach.
One step. Two. The distance closed. Her chance to plead her family's case was at hand. But just as she reached the threshold, a voice drifted out, calm and terrifying.
"You don't need to hide, Shana. If you have sothing to say, co in. There's no need for this whispering."
Shana's chest tightened. For a mont, she felt as if she might faint. But the weight of her "kin" was on her shoulders; she had to speak.
"L-Lord Enkidu..."
Shana shuffled out from behind the door, her face ashen.
"I am here," Enkidu said, setting aside the data-slate. He looked at the maid with a patient, clinical gaze.
Fifteen years old. Fair features, made to look pitiable under layers of makeup. But the cheap wig and the faint ridges of xenos bone on her forehead created a jarring discordance in his eyes. A subtle psychic radiation pulsed from her, designed to induce a sense of protective empathy in anyone nearby—while simultaneously dropping the ambient temperature by several degrees.
"I... it is nothing, truly. There are troubles at ho. I shouldn't have... I shouldn't have disturbed you."
"Your face is pale. Are you afraid I'll eat you?" Enkidu asked. "Paul only picks the most trustworthy for my service. I don't think you'd bother for sothing trivial. Tell , what weighs so heavily on you?"
"Lord Angel, please... save my clan! We are not thieves! We have served the Host with all our strength! I swear it on my life!"
The "maid" finally broke, sobbing as she poured out her heart. As she did, the psychic halo around her intensified.
Enkidu's pupils contracted. He subtly activated his own psychic screen, neutralizing the influence before it could take root in his mind.
It seed Adelina's strike had hit the Star Children's jugular. Their Patriarch was desperate enough to use a psychic thrall to try and manipulate him.
It made sense. The Star Children's secret faith was a drain on resources; they needed a massive population to sustain their brood. With Adelina cutting off their supplies, the cult was starving. They couldn't support their "kin" much longer.
If the famine continued, the uninfected mortals would eventually drift toward the other cult—the Bronze Cog. For a Patriarch seeking to unify the ship, this was a death sentence.
A Genestealer Patriarch cannot be absorbed by a rival; it's a zero-sum ga. To save itself, the cult had to act.
Enkidu maintained a neutral expression, casually pouring a cup of tea for the weeping girl. His mind, however, was on the report Adelina had sent him earlier.
The public "Elder" of the Star Children had already gone to her to complain. Following the plan, she had redirected their anger toward the Bronze Cog, claiming they were the ones who had leaked the information. With the two cults already at each other's throats, Adelina's "revelation" was the spark in the powder keg. The Elder had vowed to make the Bronze Cog pay.
The fire of the cult war was roaring. Adelina was doing her part; he had to do his.
He finished humoring the Patriarch's puppet and dismissed her. Once the door clicked shut, Enkidu reopened his data-slate and sent a coded ssage to a restricted channel.
A few minutes later, another "maid" appeared in the receiving room.
User Comments
0 comments from readers