Finis Fide Chapter 13

The reeking corpse of the Gestalt filled the residence with its vile bulk but that could do nothing to dampen the elation of victory. The creature was dead, the Psybrids had lost their greatest weapon and leadership in one stroke and surely the Imperial triumph would follow soon. It was a heady moment yet the Space Marines remained disciplined and focussed at all times, even at the height of triumph they remained on guard and swept the room for threats.

The piles of dead tendrils shifted as Inquisitor Canesh emerged, her face was pale and nauseous yet her will remained strong. Meanwhile Toran was kneeling to search the corpses of the natives one by one, searching for survivors. As he reached out to move Sergeant Kalos the man groaned and his head rolled groggily to one side. Toran twisted off his helm to reveal his augmetic eye and called, "This one yet lives."

Inquisitor Canesh paced up to him in her power armour, her composure coming back to her as she said "Can your medicines aid him?"

Toran didn't look away as replied, "Our elixirs are meant for genhanced physiologies, they are as likely to kill him as to save him."

Canesh's face could have been carved from stone as she commanded, "Try anyway."

Toran frowned at the callous response but turned to assess what could be done. The wounds were severe, Kalos' abdomen was torn open and the blood loss would send him into shock before he could awaken. Toran was no Apothecary but every Astartes was required to have a working knowledge of his own supply of medical drugs. Toran reached around to his backpack and by touch opened a seal to reveal a compartment filled with thumb-sized vials. He disconnected one from his armours' internal injectors, then from another compartment pulled out a syringe, which he filled before jabbing it into Kalos' arm. For Canesh's benefit he explained, "This is a cocktail of drugs that promotes cellular regeneration and prevents infection. The mysteries of its operation are held secret by our Apothecaries, but it should have some benefit on a mortal man."

Then he reached back and pulled free another vial, he filled the syringe again then pressed it into Kalos' shredded abdomen and injected the contents into the wound, where it fizzed and expanded to form a thick foamy tar. As he did so he said, "Coagulant designed for Marines who suffer blood loss beyond even the ability of Larraman's cells to manage."

They watched Kalos for a minute and saw the gushing blood slow to a trickle. Toran nodded and said, "That should stabilise him temporarily but he will not survive without proper medical attention."

"That is not enough" said Canesh, "I need to question him, give him a stimulant."

"I am no Apothecary," Toran snapped, "I might well kill him if I try anything else."

"I need him to talk" Canesh stated with no hint of compromise in her voice.

Toran stared at her and found neither anger nor pettiness, only determination and judgement. He wondered if at last he was seeing the real Canesh or if this was yet one more mind game but he had no time to speculate. Resignedly he reached for a canister of hyper-adrenaline, which he slotted it into the syringe. He had no idea what effect it would have on a mortal but the chances of him surviving this must surely be low, so he emptied half the contents out, then half again to be safe. He leaned forwards but then he paused in a moment of dilemma, this man was loyal to the Golden Throne and had fought valiantly for the Emperor's cause, Kalos had fought beside IXth squad with honour, he deserved better than this. Toran found himself loathing Canesh in that moment, but duty was duty and orders were orders. Canesh was in command of this mission so he had no choice but to obey. Unenthusiastically Toran jabbed the syringe forward and plunged it into Kalos' chest, probably killing the man in the process.

Toran removed a tiny tab of pain balm from his armour and pressed it into Kalos' leg. The man would still die but the Inquisitor never said anything about him suffering more pain, Toran owed him that at least. The Sergeant stood up and said with brutal honesty, "He will awaken in a minute, be lucid for a few more after that then he will die."

Then he turned away not, wanting to look at Canesh anymore, he turned instead to Persion and said, "Situation report."

Persion put one hand to his helm and spent a long minute listening to reports of the natives and then declared, "The Psybrids are falling back across the whole city, they are headed for the spaceport and its shuttles. Should we move to cut them off?"

Toran replied, "No let them run."

"Sergeant?" asked Persion in confusion.

"Codex Astartes Volume III, Chapter II, Verse XVIII: 'Never interrupt your enemy when he is making a mistake'. Those shuttles are unarmed and helpless, signal the Navy flotilla and tell them their fighter wings will soon have ripe targets to pick off."

There was a groan from the floor and Kalos stirred, feebly shaking his head as the adrenaline coursed through his system. He slowly raised his head and saw the Imperials standing over him. Kalos tried to speak but only coughed; he gasped in air with the sound of fluid rattling in his lungs then whispered, "Did we win?"

Toran returned to him and knelt beside the brave warrior saying, "Yes, the Gestalt is dead and this world has been liberated."

Kalos nodded and his head almost didn't come back up but he recovered and said "My people are happy to hear that."

Canesh leaned in and interrupted, "Your kinsmen are in the city, what are they doing now?"

Kalos frowned in confusion and answered weakly, "They are happy… they are celebrating their victory."

"Specifics!" barked Canesh sternly.

"They… they are dancing in the plaza of First Landing," replied Kalos in confusion, "Some of them have broken into an old winery and are passing out bottles like there is no tomorrow."

Canesh pressed forwards until their faces were only an inch apart and hissed, "And exactly how do you know that?"

Kalos' eyes darted to Toran but there was no greater understanding there, so he looked back and said, "It is… it is a hunch… Yes, yes it is just a hunch."

Canesh sat up so she blocked out the light in his eyes, leaving her a silhouette of Imperial judgement as she growled, "Now the most important question of all: How did your people resist the Psybrid's mind control for so long?"

A worried look crept onto Kalos' face and he said, "We told you… the Ward stones". He weakly tried to grasp at his neck but was horrified to find nothing there. He cast his eyes about trying to see if his charm had been lost in the fight. Yet it was Canesh who held up an armoured gauntlet and from it dangled a crude piece of stone on a string. The Inquisitor uttered coldly, "I lifted this off you the moment we first set foot in the Palace. Since that moment you have had no protection, yet the mind control did not overpower you. You know why."

Kalos gurgled as a horrified realisation crept onto his face, "I don't… the ward stones… they protect us."

Canesh shook her head and said, "No, not in the way you think. Radium has no properties that could block psychic intrusions, but it could force a mutation in your gene-line. The population of Odiosis are Psykers; each and every one of you is a latent Telepath. That was how you could resist the Psybrids' mind control all these years, your own power fended it off."

Toran gasped as understanding dawned but Kalos's eyes struggled with the revelation, "All those knacks… the hunches."

Canesh was grim as she uttered, "Manifestations of your power, you were communicating with each subconsciously. The Imperium never suspected there were unsanctioned psykers on Odoisis but now we know of you there is but one course of action."

Kalos looked up in desperation, he tried to sit up but his wounds flared and he fell back in agony. He gritted his teeth and said, "The Black Ships, no, not that. Please… we can go deeper into the woods, disappear entirely… you will never hear from us again. We won't trouble you."

Yet Canesh replied icily, "Even one unsanctioned psyker can be gateway for hordes for the filth of the Warp. That you endured this long without attracting the ruinous powers is remarkable, but the risk is too great to ignore. Worlds beyond count have burnt in the past for the sake of a single moment of compassion."

"But we have children…" gurgled Kalos fearfully.

There was no pity or remorse in Canesh's eyes as she said, "No exceptions: thus spoke the God-Emperor."

A bloody drop formed at the edge of Kalos mouth as he wheezed his last words, "But we trusted you… we had faith…" then he breathed no more.

Toran reached down gently and closed Kalos' eyes as he whispered, "Such concerns shall no longer trouble you." He stood up and glared accusingly at Inquisitor Canesh, but found no sympathy in her expression. He looked around the blood soaked chamber and saw the piles of men who had died for the Imperial promise of salvation. Toran knew the Emperor's law regarding Psykers but never had duty weighed so heavily upon him and he spat, "How long did you know?"

"I suspected from the start but I was not certain until we reached the Gestalt," Canesh replied sternly, "You understand what has to happen now."

Toran nodded forlornly and turned to Persion once more knowing his next words would have dire consequences. He thought of the aid the natives had given to them and their service to the Imperium. He thought about the simple town he had visited, the children playing and the humble lives they lived. They were blameless in this but then he remembered his duty as laid out by the Emperor at the foundation of the Imperium and of the threats that lurked in the Warp, ever eager to pour out and infest realspace. He could not imperil billions of lives on other worlds for the sake of a few here, duty demanded he put compassion aside. There was no other choice.

Eyes fixed upon Canesh's stony face he drew a breath and said, "Persion, signal the Fleet that their Astropathic choir must immediately send a high-priority message to the nearest Inquisitorial outpost. Message as follows: For the attention of any and all Inquisitors, we have discovered numerous unsanctioned psykers on Odoisis. The presence of a Black Ship is required urgently. All surviving natives confirmed to be mutated. The capture and processing of the entire planetary population is mandated by the Emperor's Law… without exception."

Canesh looked the Space Marine up and down then declared, "Congratulations, that was more or less adequate. Perhaps your Chapter is not quite as weak-willed as I thought. I will be preparing a report for the eyes of the Lord Inquisitors, it will not be as… negative as I originally intended."

Toran bit down hard on his response, knowing if he said anything the conversation could only end with him putting his fist through Canesh's face. Instead he turned on his heel and marched stiffly away as the Inquisitor watched him depart with an icy look on her face, neither approving nor disapproving but always watchful. Toran refused to look back as he stamped away; he felt the glorious taste of victory turning to ash in his mouth and knew he would bear this shame for the remainder of his days. He walked straight up to Daite and said, "You were right: Betrayals in the ruins and it was not the Inquisitor's you saw or even Phelps. It was ours."

The adventure continues when the Storm Heralds return in: In Tergum Cultro.