Fighting With Faith- Twenty-Fourth Entry

Imperial Guard administrators, commissars, tacticians and navigators were ushered into the great vaulted meeting room of the Planetary Arbites Headquarters, Asat Homeworld Department. Grim and stern looking officers of the Arbites division gazed back at them from the opposite end of the room behind their steel tables.

Commissar Leetol and Tactican Abjax were among the Imperial Guard officials present.

Data-slates, maps and battle reports were laid all over the steel tables.

The various Imperial officials took their places on another steel table opposite the Arbites. Several smiles, acknowledging nods and handshakes were made across the tables. Their attention was drawn to a dignified looking armchair at the end of their tables, with golden threads as seams. At the end of each arm rest was a leering Adamantium plated skull.

“All rise to greet Warmaster Chandroil.” A gentle female voice sounded over the vox-boxes placed around the meeting room.

The metallic gratings of chairs against a spit-polished floor begin to reverberate across the room. Heels and shoes clicked in attention as the Warmaster, commander of all the Imperial, Arbites and Adeptus Astartes forces within the Asat System stepped into the spotlight of the overhead glow-globes, in front of his armchair.

Without a word, he withdrew data-slates and notes from his pockets tucked deep into his notably heavily fashioned robes and placed them onto a lectern in front of him.

“Distinguished acquaintances, welcome.” The Warmaster said.

“Good greetings my lord.” The crowd replied in unison, all aware of the standard procedures for Arbites/Guard meetings.

“The enemy is at our doorstep, but many of us are willingly inviting them into our houses.” The Warmaster said with a sigh.

Curious and inquisitive glances were made from the assembled audience to the Warmaster.

“Let me cut to the chase. Two days ago, a routine patrol made by Sergeant Engist and his agents chanced upon a Genestealer Cult’s hideout in the mutant sector of Valingdom. They stormed the hideout and found considerable evidence that the approaching Hive Fleet Plethora is of immense strength and power.” Chandroil said, gesturing at the nearby holo-graphic as it projected images of the hideout and the evidence found.

Sighs, groans and muttering of disbelief were heard around the room.

“That is not all; though Sergeant Engist and his agents did manage to quell most of the resistance, their leaders, managed to escape his clutches, to a location yet to be specified.” Chanroil said.

“Warmaster, if I may ask: Why leaders? Isn’t there just one leader for a Genestealer Cult uprising?” an Imperial Guard official inquired from amongst the massed ranks.

Chandroil sighed.

“My dear associates, this is where it is difficult to comprehend.” Chandroil muttered gloomily.

Curious glances darted around the meeting room, hash whispers were passed across the tables and deep, abated breaths were held back.

“The mutants, Tyranids, and Genestealer Cult are working as one. Every single damn one of them.” Chanroil said, conceding his shocking answer.

The audience replied with an uproar. Some cursed, some stood up in disgust, not believing what they just heard and some just sat there, dazed and shock.

Further down the room, somewhere in the recesses of it, amongst the swell of infuriated officials, sat a glowering Commissar Leetol.

Abjax sat obediently at his side, dutifully taking in all the information that the holo-projector showed, making full use of all his implanted chips and augmentation. He was oblivious to the furious crowed around him.

“Abjax?” Leetol said.

“Yes Commissar.”

“Damn, he didn’t tell me that. Can’t blame him; this came in new.” Leetol muttered to himself.

“Commissar?” Abjax asked, concern etched all across his face.

“Sorry. What? Don’t you see?” Leetol recovered from his pondering and snapped back irritably at Abjax.

“My humblest apologies Commissar, but I do not perceive anything.” Abjex replied distressingly.

“A Genestealer Cult is present amongst the populace. What chances would it be that some of them has infiltrated into our regiments?” Leetol breathed out, his voice venomous, as though he knew who the infiltrator was and would immediately destroy him.

“Holy Emperor…” Abjex said, his eyes going wide, realising the true horror and terror that would occur if what Leetol said was true. His face went pale and his heavily augmented head fell into his hands in distress and anguish.

“Comrades! This is not for doubt! This calls for immediate action! The call of martial law has been raised. Do proceed with caution now in whatever you do and you are to conduct intense personnel screening within the next week. The meeting is adjourned.” Chandroil bellowed across the room, his barely contained rage sounding through the vox-boxes.

The game has been sighted, the torches lit, the race has begun.