Thaberus was in a grim mood, grimmer than usual. Getting himself and people under his responsibility ambushed was rare for him, let alone twice in a day.

Thaberus Thorn was an in-the-field type of inquisitor without being a psyker himself, and while it was true the ability to use psychic powers was never a mandatory requirement and the vast majority of inquisitors have no affinity for the warp, its sheer advantage was glaringly apparent.

A check on the list of who-is-who of famously celebrated inquisitors amongst the imperial elites and one could quickly deduce almost all of them were psykers. From the High Protector of the Formosa Sector Torquemada Coteaz, the philosophical Gideon Ravenor and even the questionable Gregor Eisenhorn, all were known for their psychic prowess. In light of that Thaberus had worked extremely hard to get to where he was and paid extra diligence to compensate for that “disadvantage”.

That said, what happened a few days ago had Thaberus silently grateful for being a non-psyker for the first time. Something massive was happening in the warp and all the psykers in his warband were experiencing difficulties, citing constant nightmares and constantly being affected by feelings of utter dread. The conditions became so bad the most severely affected individuals had to be put in a medically induced coma to prevent cases of self-harm.

And thus Thaberus had been operating without his usual contingent of psychic aides in his fieldworks recently. Would that have helped in not getting ambushed? He was not sure and that realisation only served to sour his mood further.

‘Sir, we are done here.’ Amael’s voice woke him from his thoughts. Thaberus turned to his interrogator, silently asking the latter to proceed. Amael continued his report, ‘An order of unknown origin came through, authorising the manticores to attack us but the trails might lead to nowhere, there has to be a collaborator from the inside.’

Well, that was expected, the inquisitor sighed internally, his mind lamenting at these predictable outcomes. After decades of working in the field, most things became tiresomely predictable, except for that lady. Thaberus found his mind turning at thinking about Syrine and the fact that he could not get a proper read on her.

One moment she was saying she lost her memory and had an almost civilian like bearing, the next thing he knew she saved him and his retinue without even flinching at how close they were at death’s door. He had secretly observed her expression and breathing aboard the Flameraven and concluded she never for a second seemed worried during the tense moments. Syrine was merely sitting on her chair, eyes closed with a peaceful expression when the heavy bolters were discharged at the exact moment it needed to get them out of that deadly predicament.

What did that arch dominus call her again? Omnissian princess? Thaberus pondered on these questions and found no satisfying answers. At this point, he could not even be sure if the assassination attempts were aiming at him or her.

It was at this time he received a coded message from Niandra, he took a quick glimpse and was stunned by what he read. Amael was quick to notice his master’s reaction and politely inquired. ‘Sir?’

Thaberus did a quick mental check on the chances of their conversation being compromised before deciding it was safe enough to answer his interrogator. ‘Syrine and Arradus have made contact with other imperial worlds.’

Amael gasped upon hearing the news. While it was technically true Arradus Rein was the last known astropath on the planet, Thaberus’ own warband had another skilful astropath who was on his ship orbiting the planet, and the psyker had been trying for days without result.

‘Sir, that is good news! Are reinforcements coming?’ Amael could not contain himself.

‘I am afraid not,’ replied Thaberus. ‘They could only contact planets within the subsector, these were of no use to us in terms of reinforcements. Something huge must be going on out there.’

‘So we are back to square one,’ sighed Amael.

‘I thought she was just coming along to show us her sincerity and get the arch dominus to work with us. To think she actually was able to make contact with other planets,’ said Thaberus before asking, ‘what is your reading on her?’

Amael looked at his master, his mouth half opened but nothing came out for a while, when he was just about to speak Thaberus cut him off halfway, ‘other than appearance.’

That kept Amael’s mouth open for a little longer before he sighed again and answered. ‘I don’t know, without witnessing what she did, she just… felt like a civilian.’

‘So… a psychic civilian, who can pierce the veil of warp when our astropath has failed and she could even talk to machine spirits while keeping a pet arch dominus?’ Thaberus teased.

‘Might be a transhuman too while we are at it,’ laughed Amael.

‘And you said that because....?’

‘Just look at her, she has been with us for hours and never once showed any signs of physical exhaustion nor did she ever ask for any nourishments.’

‘So you were watching.’

‘Of course.’

‘Is she like Niandra then?’

Amael thought for a while before answering, ‘... maybe, and probably more dangerous.’

‘Why?’

‘If I met her on the street without knowing better, she would probably just come across as just being breathtakingly pretty. Whereas for Nian, well you can always tell she is dangerous.’

‘So you can’t get a proper read on her too,’ remarked Thaberus.

‘Sir,’ Amael whispered, ‘with all due respect, hypothetically speaking if you were to issue a kill order to Nian now… who do you think will come out alive?’

‘Hmmm…’ Thaberus contemplated for a while before deciding to drop the difficult subject and asked another question, ‘you said the trails might lead nowhere, elaborate.’

‘They left so many digital trails behind that most are probably just feints, we have neither the resources nor the time to pursue all of them. I have shown the preliminary findings to our backend team, they said it might take weeks to sort it out. Unless...’

The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation.

‘Unless we somehow have a whole starship’s worth of advanced cogitators and a capable mind to wield that at our disposal? I have just the contact here. Since that attack almost took her out, I imagine this would provide sufficient motivation for our new Adeptus Mechanicus acquaintance to expedite his efforts.’ said Thaberus, a hint of a smile appearing on his stern visage.

‘Compile all the data you found together with Flameraven’s flight log of the incident, it is time to contact the arch dominus for that luggage arrangement we promised.’ The inquisitor ordered.

* * *

Sometime later, inside a fortified command bunker somewhere near the frontline. A high-level strategic discussion was interrupted by a statement uttered by a certain high-ranking individual attending the meeting.

‘Deplorable!’

A massive hooded and hunched figure snarled as he struck the ground with the end knob of his giant Omnissian axe, the impact created a deafening clang and the primary holographic projector inside the meeting chamber flickered in protest. The figure’s sudden outburst put the meeting proceeding to a grinding halt as all eyes were on him, not knowing what to expect next.

Being more machine than man, senior members of the Adeptus Mechanicus were known for their almost inhuman dispassionate disposition throughout the Imperium. The fact that such a high ranking representative of the Order even broke basic etiquette to express his outrage had everyone at the high-level meeting stunned silent.

Sitting around a huge table with a holographic projector in the centre were some of the most powerful individuals on the planet. Present on one side was the Planetary Governor, Lord General and generals of the planetary defence force, sitting across them in their power armour was the Canoness and Palatines of the Adepta Sororitas.

It was Canoness Diadinah who broke the awkward silence. ‘Esteemed Dominus, what was that about?’ The words from the supreme leader of Adepta Sororitas Order on the planet seemed to pull the spaced-out dominus back to the meeting as the latter quickly apologised.

‘Pardon me,’ Kryptorer bowed, ‘I must ask for forgiveness from all you luminaries for my lack of self-control upon hearing reports of the rebels’ heresy.’

‘Now, now,’ came a cultured female voice, ‘having righteous zeal is a virtue. Though I must confess I am inspired by your show of ...passion which is such a rarity for your kin. We were fortunate enough for you to come to our aid in this dire hour, for that we will be forever grateful.’ said Khatalina von Klaeus, the current ruling planetary governor.

The governor was a gorgeous looking blonde who looked to be in her early thirties but was in fact over seventy years old, being powerful and wealthy she had constant periodical rejuvenat treatments to preserve her youth. Thanks to that she stood tall and her golden personalised power armour glittered in the meeting chamber, but upon closer inspection minor battle damages and scratches could be seen here and there.

Little did Khatalina know that Kryptorer wasn’t fussing over what was shown at the strategic meeting. The arch dominus had just received a message from Thaberus via his secured network and saw what had transpired. The outrage he experienced was so severe that it overcame his multi-layered emotional suppressor, resulting in his unexpected outburst.

These damned heretics were so close to ruining his sacred mission again. For the second time in twenty-four hours, Kryptorer was seething with a sense of anger that had last been experienced lifetimes ago, and how could he have not? He had caught glimpses of what was behind the blast door at the end of the activation chamber.

There, what might be a true technological treasure trove awaited and just when he was about to gain entrance to it, unexpected events kept delaying his access to it.

Kryptorer Cykel had lived for many thousands of years, what little remained of his humanity was locked away in a thrice reinforced adamantium skull and his true personality was locked even deeper underneath an operating surface persona. Through certain past experiences, he had learned the hard way on the disadvantage of putting one’s indifference on open display, especially when dealing with any powerful individuals who were not adepts of the Omnissiah.

Ever the practical soul, he had searched for a solution and came across a method that was borderline heretical by the reckoning of his Order; through advanced neuron and cogitator manipulation, he created a sub-core of himself and wore it like a mask.

This sub-core persona was designed to be approachable by non-augmented humans for smoother interaction and it had worked wonders for him, opening previously closed doors in negotiations. Ever since then he had been operating as such, his sub-core would appear friendly and interact with the outside world while his true cold, dispassionate and calculative self would withdraw and run computations on whatever he fancied, essentially running simultaneous thought processing.

Very rarely, some event deemed by himself important enough would occur and his true self would surface to take over the auto-piloting friendly sub-core persona. Kryptorer silently stood up as his sub-core personality was recalled, as he did so, all pretence of subtle human behaviour and speech pattern imitation was dropped as he spoke in a cold flat tone.

‘This conflict delays the great work of the glorious Omnissiah and as such, warrant my undivided attention to end it as soon as possible. I have deemed it necessary to deploy all the resources at my disposal to prove the supremacy of the Machine God to the heretics. My cult will be most grateful for the full cooperation from you all to see this through, as will the benefactor of my holy expedition.’

Though his words sounded courteous enough, all those present felt Kryptorer’s non-negotiable undertone and some eyebrows were raised.

‘Who is this benefactor you spoke of? And what would be expected from us?’ One of the generals asked.

Kryptorer turned to the man, deciding for a moment before answering. ‘It would be better for her to tell it herself, but rest assured, she has authority over all the presiding here. Worry not of the parts you all will be taking, I promise you they are well within your capabilities.’ That created some murmurs amongst the crowd but the arch dominus cared not as his attention was already elsewhere.

Oh yes, she has the authority, his true core mused to himself as he reviewed the flight log of gunship Flameraven over and over again, analysing its details, hidden within the record but plain for him to see was the tell-tale signs that despite suffering from memory loss Syrine still had the capability to use her authority, and that provided the key component for him to end this conflict as soon as possible.