Imperium Ascendant

Chapter Sixteen: The Court of Destiny

Location: The Bucephalus, currently in Martian Orbit.

Date: 792.M31 (Approximately six Terran Months since the signing of the Treaty of Olympus)

The Emperor of Mankind stood aboard the Bucephalus observatories and gazed out into the void. The Red Planet in all its glory filled the viewport and his superhuman eyes studied the worlds intricate surface. Continent-sized industrial centers and Forges the size of countries marked the rust-colored world. In many ways, the planet was much like its inhabitants. A survivor of countless cataclysms both Man-made and natural, that had been augmented and changed by machinery and metal to better survive the Galaxy.

Each of Nation-States known to Mars as Forges had sworn loyalty to him. Now the full manufacturing capacity of the Crimson Jewel of Sol was put to work in the Imperiums War Machine. Armor, Weapons, Vehicles, Infrastructure, and Voidships were being churned out in astonishing numbers.

A few days ago he had presided over the Keel Laying of the first Imperial Battleship to be built at the Ring of Iron. The utterly massive super-structure was mass producing Warships and support craft as fast as it could. Entire Asteroids had been dragged from the Nearby belt and fed to the ravenous Forges of Mars.

Martian STC's, Terran relics and some of the Emperors own knowledge combined to create new tools of conquest. Knowledge of the distant past and the Grim Dark Future had been gifted to Mars as part of the Treaty. While restricted by a lack of certain exotic resources and a few other factors this Great Crusade would start better equipped.

The current standard issue Power Armor was known as Mk II Legio Armor. It actually had morin common with the God-Emperor's timelines mk III and mk IV in appearance and capabilities. Tactical Dreadnought Armor was also slated for production but awaiting a larger supply of Adamantium to be mass produced. Every scrap of the nearly indestructible metal was being used in the growing Imperial Fleet.

Yet despite there unparalleled contribution to the War effort and powerful role in the Imperium elements of the Tech-Clergy were still distrustful. In the God-Emperors time this distrust had become disloyalty. This could not be tolerated and the Emperor intended to end this issue before it ever became a threat to Imperial stability.

This was not the only such situation where the possible future actions of people or organizations were a concern to the Emperor and his inner circle. He had at first ordered Malcador and his pet Assassins (which he was technically not supposed to know about) to hunt down and eliminate the most flagrant and destructive of these individuals decades before the events they would be involved with ever occurred. These pawns both willing and unwitting of Chaos had been obscured from his foresight by the Four. Now such protection was useless and they were subject to the Emperor's machinations.

While the list had shrunk with each passing week as the Masters of each Assassin Clade and their disciples conducted their grim work. Malcador and the Emperor were still stuck with a sizable chunk of individuals whose fate was not set in stone. In the Grimdarkness they had been enemies, yet if handled correctly they could help humanity walk the Shining Path. Even individuals who had not been hidden from his view could possibly be redeemed if they were careful.

To this effort Malcador, Uriah and the Emperor had assembled a group of Philosophers, Precognitive Psykers, and Lawbringers to access these men and women of uncertain fate. Their duty was to guide those of uncertain fate into the light and eliminate them if that was not possible.

Knowing the dangers of such a practice running wild a large part of this organization's duties was to ensure no other options were available and eliminations were done in an ethical way. Even if a person was headed down a path of darkness they had not committed the crimes they were being executed for yet. This new and highly secretive branch of Imperial Justice was known to the scant few privy to its existence as the Court of Destiny. A place where future actions and possible fates were judged.

Its branches included a conclave of Telepaths and Precogs who researched and mapped out the minds and futures of the Judged. The Philosophers and Lawbringers debated the ethics and necessity of their actions. A group of Adepts under Malcador scattered throughout Imperial government and military were used to push the Judged along a better path. Nearly all of the newly made Chaplaincy core of the Astartes had connections to this group. Finally, those who could not be redeemed and were utterly Damned were referred to the Assassinorum.

Today the Emperor intended to do something atypical, he was going to directly intervene and handle one of these Judged himself. This would be the fourth time he had personally tried to push a Judged onto the path of becoming what the Court called a Fatebreaker. Someone who freed themselves from the twisted path the Four had laid out for them.

If he succeeded any Martian insurrection would be crippled before it could gestate. If not… well, others messier options were more available. So here in the final weeks of his stay at Mars, he had sent a message down to the Fabricator General. Asking for a particularly talented rising star of the priesthood to be sent aboard the Bucephalus.

The meeting was due to take place within a few hours and he could already see one of the distinct shuttle craft of the Custodes peeling away from the intense orbital traffic and heading to dock with its mothership. Aboard it was the Judged who had been subject to the intense scrutiny of his bodyguards before he was allowed anywhere near the Emperor.

He could sense the Three Custodes aboard the craft and its passenger. The Emperor was slightly amused how hard the Judged was attempting to quash the overwhelming dread and fear filling what was left of his organic brain. Transhuman Dread as the Legions were starting to call it had long been a side effect of humanities various attempts to enhance its warriors.

The Psychic aspects of the Astartes and Custodes creation further enhanced the effect to new levels. At first, the Emperor had attempted to eliminate the effect, he found the idea of humanities Protectors causing mind breaking fear in their charges and being examples of what ancient Terran cyberneticists called the uncanny valley distasteful. Eventually, he realized this flaw could become a feature with a little tweaking.

Astartes and Custodes by nature are psychic beings, each altered not just on a biological but spiritual level by their augments. Granting a level of the supernatural abilities possessed by their Gene-Sire. this was the reason the experiments in Pariah gene Astartes conducted by his alternate self-had failed so disastrously.

It had taken a bit psychic engineering but the Imperiums transhuman champions inspired more shock and awe than dread and horror in those who viewed them. This effect was derived from the psychic charisma of both him and his sons. It was not enough to fully eliminate the dread but alter it enough to be useful. As an added bonus this effect had been tied into the connection they shared with him. If that connection was broken by Xeno or Warp taint the sheer wrongness of the augmented being would be unfiltered and provide a measure of defense and easy identification of these fallen.

The Emperor had seen quite viscerally how far an Astartes could fall. Even now he could see the Favored Son of a Favored Son putting the galaxy to the torch while wielding two the very few weapons in existence capable of tasting his blood. That ancient monster who would break Arcadia and despoil so much of the already rotting Imperium would be born in a few years, he also would need to be judged by the Court.

The Shuttle docked within the cavernous hangers of his flagship and he could feel the flickering ember that was his terrified guest's soul move slowly towards him through the massive vessel.

The Emperor was clothed in a uniform that mixed elements of military dress garb and Terran Nobility fashion. His form and clothing could be changed with a thought, either through manipulation of matter or minds. He often found it interesting how his dress added a form of filter to his power and radiance. In the plain robes of ancient Terran tribes, he was a prophet, a messiah. In the armor and uniforms of battle a conquering God-King. Today he was to an extent both. The Omnissiah of Mars and the Emperor of Terra.

The Observatory was one of the odder locations upon the Bucephalus. It served no practical purpose and a defense turret would be a better use of the space upon the ships hull. Even so, the Emperor wanted his flagship to be more than a vessel of War. It would be a beacon of unity and progress. A center of diplomacy and civilization as much a tool of conquest. ṚåℕốBËs̈

He could see it now, in a few decades dignitaries from dozens of newly unified worlds would dine and forge bonds of brotherhood under the translucent dome that allowed starlight to illuminate the chamber. The Emperor knew much blood would need to be shed to unify the human species, he was under no such illusions that many worlds would rather die than submit. That being true there would still be even more meetings that would reunite humanity, not as rival powers but long-lost siblings.

As his musing shifted to plans for the future the Cognatu Ferrum chirped psychically that his guest was about to arrive. Thanking the loyal machine he pulsed permission for the Custodes to bring the tech-priest into the chamber. Great synth-wood doors creaked open and the illumination of the vessels passages spilled into the Observatory. Filling the room with more light than the meager amount provided by the stars and reflected from the Martian Surface.

The heavy footfalls of the Custodes and the slight mechanical whir of their charge entered the Chamber. The Emperor had to hide a smirk at that, the Custodes even armored head to toe in advanced Power Armor could be completely silent yet choose not to be in situations like this. It was an intimidation tactic of course. A useful tool for a bodyguard yet wasted on the guest. His fear poured off his soul like a putrid storm and the Emperor doubted little the Custodes could do would increase it.

The Emperor of Mankind turned away from the view of Mars once they were a few meters away. Surrounded by a trinity of Custodes was a disheveled and terrified Cyborg. He admired how hard the man tried to hide his fear but any sane being in his predicament would be as fearful as he was.

The man before him was young by Martian standards and extraordinarily talented. He was only a few decades old and only maybe another away from becoming a Magos. The Tech-Priest was part of a not insignificant minority that viewed the Treaty of Mars as a conquest through words. An act they saw as a violation of the Mechanicum which stole their autonomy and not a treaty at all but a contract between master and servant forced to be signed at weapon-point. The Tech-Priest and his minority saw the Emperor as a heretical imposter. Some monster born of Archeotech or Xeno science, not the Omnissiah.

In another light, the Emperor would find all of this darkly amusing. A group of fanatics who would rather have the freedom and tools to doom themselves to nightmarish ends then work for humanities survival. They were technically correct though, he had subjected Mars and was not the "true" Omnissiah. Such a being did not exist and he had the best claim for the title. People always seemed to favor the immediate and the foolish.

The Emperor watched the frightened Tech-Priest looked into his augmented eyes. For a moment the Emperor let his aura leak out. His eyes turned from deep brown to golden flaming orbs. A Halo of fire and light erupted around him and the Tech-Priest collapsed to his knees in a mix of shock and reverence. Speaking calmly he addressed the Martian.

"Kelbor-Hal; I have wanted to speak to you for some time."

Kelbor-Hal seemed to freeze for a moment as if he was not processing what was being said. Then the shock wore off and the blade-sharp intellect of the once-future Fabricator General sprung into action. A keen political mind was as necessary if not more so than technical aptitude to rise through the Ranks of the Mechanicum. That keen political instinct kicked in almost instantly as Hal collected himself.

The crackle of synthetic voice filled the Observatory as Kelbor-Hal addressed the Emperor: "It is beyond an honor to be in your presence oh Omnissiah. Whatever you require of me I shall do. I am your servant and willing cog in whatever you wish."

Kelbor-Hal rose from the near collapsed state to a respectful kneel. His mechadendrites were folded in a posture indicating submission and respect among the Mechanicum. Hal knew how to hide his emotions and intent well and play the willing supplicant. It seemed another display of power was in order.

Turning away from the kneeling Tech-Priest the Emperor gazed out at Mars, as he did his mind touched the Martian Population. With the ease, a mortal would have reading a news-periodical the Emperor of Mankind read every single mind on the Red Planet. None of the Martian noticed. The only evidence of this act was faint fluctuations in the Warp only the most sensitive would feel.

Turning back to Kelbor-Hal he spoke as his eyes glowed with Psychic-Fire. "There are currently 13,141,592,653 living humans on Mars. that does not count Servitors and other lobotomized or partial-sentients of human origin. 4,981,196,225 of those humans to varying degrees believe I am a false-omnissiah and that the Treaty is conquest just by another name."

The Tech-Priest seemed confused until the horrific realization struck as the Emperor continued. "I know this because I am reading the minds of all Thirteen billion of them. This is an easy task for me. In fact, reading the minds of every human within the Solar System is well within my capabilities. I tell you this so you know lying or trying to obscure your true feelings is a pointless endeavor."

It was like a puppet's strings had been cut. Kelbor-Hal's body went limp as the truth and horrific power of the being before him crashed into his mind like an ocean swell. Slowly clambering to his feet the Tech-Priest marshaled every ounce of willpower and blurted out a simple message in binary. "I do not know what Heretekal experiments spawned you. I know I am but a mote of dust compared to the forces you wield, but I will do everything I can to protect Mars from you."

Kelbor-Hal expected to be atomized on the spot, turned to nothing but ash by the false-god before him. In fact, that was the fate he hoped for. Better death than being enslaved to help craft weapons and tools of butchery for this Gene-wrought monster. Or worse yet being used as material by whatever Fleshcrafter made the Golden Giants that flanked him. He never expected the Psi-Abomination that had enslaved his people to congratulate him, let alone in perfect binary.

"Kelbor-Hal you have exceeded my expectations. Instead of pleading or attempting to escape your seeming fate. You were prepared to die for your ideals, even if they were misguided. Throughout my long life, I've learned a man willing to die for the wrong cause is worth a hundred ones feigning loyalty to a noble one. For a committed man can be shifted to serve a good cause as rigorously if not more so than he did the first. "

It was impossible for an unaugmented human throat to produce the Binaric Cant spoken by Martians. Yet through some act of superhuman ability, the Emperor had spoken the Machine tongue. The entire world view and knowledge of what was possible of Kelbor-Hal was being pulled apart.

Reverting back to Gothic the Emperor continued: "I know you fear the worst from me, and my existence seems impossible. Little I can say will convince you of the truth of my being and intentions so I must ask you a simple question. What would you do to ensure the survival of Mars and the human species?"

Kelbor answered almost immediately "Anything, I would do anything to protect Mars and its people."

A slight smile crossed the Emperor perfect features as he replied: "That will be put to the test. The Binary language is based on the most basic of concepts. One or Zero, yes or no. It's very fitting that Mars fate is based upon a similar question. Kelbor-Hal you are the one who will choose. Yes or no, will Mars survive and thrive or be ripped apart by strife and Chaos."

"I have a request of you if you answer yes Mars fate as part of the Imperium will be sealed and humanities future will be secure. If you answer no then you will set forth a chain of events that end with Mars being ripped apart in civil war and the Mechanicum being destroyed."

The Tech-Priests fists and Mechadendrites clenched with anger as he responded. "Is that a threat? If I do not serve you will destroy all I hold dear?"

Sadness filled the Emperor eyes: "No I will not destroy the Mechanicum, you will. The blood of innocence will be on your hands and Mars will burn under your command."

Before Kelbor-Hal could reply visions of possible futures and memories of the God-Emperor poured into his augmented brain. Heresy, horror, and betrayal filled the young Cyborgs mind.

Twitching slightly the increasingly disturbed Tech-Priest spoke: "Why do you show me such things? Your trickery and lies will not work. You are not the Omnissiah!"

"You are correct and incorrect. I am one of the two beings closest to the entity you call the Machine God. Except I am not its incarnate nor spawn. I am its master and jailer. Would you like to meet the Deus Mechanicus? If you accept my offer you will." responded the Emperor.

Sputtering softly Kelbor-Hal replied: "What madness is this? The Machine God is not something that could be contained or dominated...

"The mythological being you worship could never be sealed or controlled, true. The being that inspired the myths? That is a very different story." A wry smile crossed the Emperor face at that.

Sighing softly to himself the Emperor continued: "I know I will not be able to convince you to do this of your own free will and could only force you or compel you to. That is not my wish, I want you to do this of your own volition. So I will offer you another option. Journey to the place of my request and meet with the other being who could be called Omnissiah. Gain knowledge and evidence I can not provide you without upsetting future events. After meeting with him you can accept my request or deny it and take the knowledge you have gained and spread it throughout Mars."

Warrely the Tech-Priest asked: "Tell me this request and I might consider this."

The pull of lost and forbidden knowledge was great on any member of the Mechanicum but practically and addictive hunger for its members like Kelbor-Hal. The Emperor of course knew this and while he needed this choice to be Hal's he could of course influence it in his favor.

"To study under the Guardian of the Noctis Labyrinth and once his successor is chosen, guide her until she is ready to fulfill his responsibilities. After that, you can use whatever knowledge you have gained however you wish."

"The Noctis Labyrinth? Nothing sane or human lives their. What could possibly be of any importance be located in that pit of decay and contamination?" : Asked Hal.

"If you journey their you will find out for yourself." was all the Emperor said in reply. At that Kelbor-Hal was escorted from the Observatory and the Bucephalus.

The once possible Fabricator General did not know what decision he would make but the Emperor did. The tides of destiny shifted and he could watch the future. How after a few weeks of internal anguish Kelbor hal would journey to the Noctis Labyrinth and meet his god. Seymon would glad to have the company and this would set the Mechanicum down a very different path.

Without the Primarchs rebelling and the intellectual and political lynchpin of Kelbor-Hal Mars would never rebel. Or at least any attempts would be far to crippled to have any major effects. In turn after a few centuries, Hal would emerge as a wise Sage and start to preach a new creed to the Martians. One that championed human ascendancy instead of machine worship, and careful development of technology as opposed to relic hunting pseudo-luddism.

Another threat eliminated by turning it into an asset. He would have to inform the Court of Destiny when he sent his weekly comunique to Terra. Thoughts of his and humanities homeworld turned to his children. Despite the strange perception of time gained by immortality, he knew he had been away too long and he missed his sons. Thankfully within another month or so he would return to Terra and the Primarchs.

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