Presenting a teaser for an upcoming story Domus Discordia

Somewhere, Somewhen

The apartment had seen better days; it was run down, with mould on the lintels and dirty windows. The furniture was frayed and the carpets worn by the eternal passage of feet. There was also a smell in the air, a damp stench that persisted and crept in at the corners. The air vents had been routinely scrubbed of course, everything here was repeatedly checked and monitored with the obsessiveness of the innately paranoid but the smell persisted anyway.

The apartment was located far down the side of the Hive City, permitting little to no light through its grainy windows. Centuries of pollution and acid rains had marred those windows, leaving them stained and milky. One could barely see the soaring heights of Tectum's Hive spires, Sector capital-world and greatest naval base in the Saint Karyl Trail. In fact this apartment was about as low as one could get in the Inquisitorial Fortress that was attached to the Hive's city's flanks without being a servant. But here was the important thing; it was still in the Inquisitorial Fortress.

It was in every respect a poor choice of apartment, one ill-suited for a great and mighty Inquisitor Lord but then the occupant was neither high nor mighty, not anymore. Much like the apartment the occupant had seen better days. He was an old man now, the marks of frequent Juvenant work starting to show. His frame was ample, former muscle now running to fat and his gut expanding. His head was bald and scarred and upon his robes was the mark of the Ordo Hereticus.

The man's expression was best described as forlorn for he was a sad sight. He was slumped in his chair before a wide desk and cradling a goblet, staring into its depths as if it could reveal infinity. His name was Inquisitor Zerban and he was thinking upon how he had sunk so low.

Zerban was brooding upon the tides of fate and how far he had fallen. The Inquisition had little in the way of hierarchy, save for the regional Lords of each Ordo. In such a jumbled mess authority and power were measured by reputation, the various Inquisitors jostling for position in an endless struggle for prestige.

Zerban had once been a rising star in the Ordo, marked for greatness, but as a consequence had made a great many enemies. Not a problem when he had been powerful but now those rivals were numerous and well-placed. His housing here, in the slum of the fortress was just the latest insult in a long line of affronts.

Zerban sighed and put his goblet to his lips, draining it dry. Then he slammed it down and said, "How did it come to this?"

From a corner a quiet voice said, "My Lord?"

Zerban glanced up and saw his batsman, a warrior called Dago standing there. He was a burly man, a former Guard Sergeant who had seen plenty of wars. He was the worst sort of killer, ruthless, immoral but intelligent enough to hide it behind a uniform. He had been running a criminal enterprise under the Guard's nose and getting away with it too. Sadly a simple slip had revealed his dealings to the Commissariat and his execution had only been averted via recruitment into Zerban's retinue. Doubtless he had a new gang up and running but Zerban didn't care, in fact it was occasionally useful.

Zerban was feeling melancholic and elaborated, "I was on the fast track to the seat of Lord Hereticus Karyl, I walked these halls and people averted their eyes. I could have been running the whole Sector-Ordo but then it slipped through my grasp."

Dago shrugged, he didn't care for politics but Zerban was in a mood to speak and carried on, "It was the Tyranid invasion, that's when it started to slip. Those damned Astartes; those Storm Heralds made me look like a fool. Then slight after slight, failure after failure. None of my investigations went anywhere, my hunches stopped paying off. Inquisitors who once feared my name now look down their noses at me."

Dago looked indifferent and mentioned, "Your guest is still waiting."

That sobered Zerban up; he did indeed have a meeting due, a strange one indeed. He had known the visitor was coming, how could he not, but had chosen to keep him waiting outside for hours. It was a petty and snide trick, one he had used before, but for this particular guest there was no tower in all of Tectum high enough from which to spit his contempt.

Zerban sighed and he reached into a drawer to pull out a stim-tab, he wanted a clear head for this. He pressed the stim to his wrist and felt a rush of clarity then said, "Show him in."

Dago went to fetch the guest and Zerban leaned back, waiting patiently. Soon enough Dago returned bringing his guest. It was a strange sight indeed, for he was an Astartes, one in white armour with various accoutrements. He walked at a measured pace, making the floorboards creak with his weight but his disdain was clear to any with eyes. He was Lessall, Chief Apothecary to the Storm Heralds, and Zerban's most hated opponent.

Zerban looked over the Astartes and wondered why he was here, of all the places to be in this dark time, why come here? As Lessall approached Zerban saw a small light blinking on a ring on his left hand, a signal that Lessall was recording everything via his armour.

The Inquisitor considered overriding it with another ring on his other hand, he had access to tech that made Lessall's gear look like toys, but decided against it. The Apothecary was already an enemy and there were ways to turn such recordings against him, if he thought to entrap Zerban he had badly underestimated the Inquisitor.

Zerban waved Lessall to sit in a reinforced chair, not out of welcome but because he didn't want the Astartes looming over him. He waited for a moment then enquired politely, "So, how was your trip?"

Lessall scowled but played the game saying, "Rough, since Cadia fell the Warp seethes."

Zerban nodded for it was true; the last four years had seen storms unlike any before and interstellar travel had become next to impossible. It was only in the last few months that the storms had cleared enough to let a handful of ships and messages pass. The Apothecary must be desperate indeed to have travelled the mere dozen light-years between Tectum and his homeworld.

Zerban poked the bear by saying, "Yes, a shame about that. Did you lose a lot of Space Marines to the Warp storms?"

Lessall nose wrinkled and he sneered, "You remain a snake, nothing has changed in that regard."

Zerban felt the same for his foe and stated for the benefit of the recording, "You won't let it go will you, it's been a century since you served in the Deathwatch, since the incident at Sacellum. You were as much to blame for what happened as I was."

Lessall growled, "Enough banter, I am here with a purpose."

Zerban mused, "I was wondering when you would get to that."

Lessall leaned in and said, "The galaxy is turned upside down, great changes are afoot and confusion reigns."

Zerban couldn't deny that and said, "Yes, especially with the news from Terra, who would have dared to imagine such wonders."

Lessall's face was a picture of blank incomprehension and ignorance as he said, "What?"

Zerban started in surprise, was it possible the Storm Heralds didn't know? He supposed it must be, Astropaths had been notoriously unreliable before the Noctis Aeterna now they were working intermittently at best. Whole regions of the Imperium had fallen silent and few if any worlds still responded to messages, it might take centuries for normal contact to be re-established. So maybe the Storm Heralds really didn't know that Roboute Guillliman, the Primarch of Ultramar, was awake and on Terra.

"It's nothing," Zerban demurred, "So why come to me?"

Lessall growled, "There are opportunities here for you and for me. A chance to resolve our conflict, once and for all."

Zerban scoffed, "Why should I care?"

"Because you want to destroy us," Lessall said, "And I want to destroy you. This fight has been brewing for an age but has been held back by blinkered fools."

Ah, Zerban thought, this is about Chapter Master Gorgall. The Storm Herald's leader was annoyingly moderate, working tirelessly to restore good relations between his Chapter and the wider Imperium. It had frustrated Zerban no end, especially as he had long wanted to see that sanctimonious Chapter ground down into dust. Lessall also had reason to hate Gorgall, for he coveted his Master's seat. Lessall couldn't stand the Lex Imperalis or the rule of Terra. He wanted to lead an uprising and carve out his own personal empire, one with the Astartes at the head, but Gorgall was standing right in his way.

Zerban leaned back and said, "So things aren't going too well at home?"

Lessall scowled and said, "Gorgall holds us back, keeps us from seeing the true path. He is a fool and a coward but worse of all, he just won't die."

Zerban nodded and stated loudly, for the recording, "So, you're asking me to kill your own Chapter Master?"

Lessall snorted and said, "Don't pretend you haven't thought about it."

Zerban spread his hands and said for the benefit of the recording, "This is Heresy; I am loyal to the Throne and its appointed servants. You propose treason and rebellion against the rule of Terra."

Lessall leaned in and said, "You have the means and tools I lack, we've already sent a killer against his followers and failed. His guard is up now, I can't kill Gorgall myself but if an outsider did it..."

Zerban thumbed his ring, jamming Lessall's recording and said, "Interesting, but why would I aid you?"

Lessall grinned and said, "Because you have always wanted a war between us. With Gorgall dead there will be no more complications, no more obstacles. It will be just you and me: Inquisition versus Astartes."

Zerban snorted, "A war you expect to win, no doubt."

"As do you," Lessall said, "In which case your position will rise greatly."

Zerban made a pretence of thinking about it and said, "It has a certain direct appeal, no more intrigues just a stand-up fight, winner takes all."

Lessall eagerly chased the lead saying, "So you agree, Gorgall must die."

Zerban said, "A chance to destroy you at last, how could I resist?"

Lessall smiled and said, "Good, I look forward to setting your head upon a spike."

Zerban smirked and countered, "I look forward to seeing you ground into dust beneath my heel."

Lessall stood and walked out, slamming the door behind him. Dago watched him go and said, "Why didn't you tell him about the Primarch's return?"

Zerban shrugged and stated, "If he can't find out on his own then I'm not going to do it for him. Besides this is an opportunity. The new Lord Commander Guilliman is busy at the heart of the galaxy so the time is ripe to move openly. Lessall wants a war and I will give it to him. A war that will show the Imperium how dangerous Astartes are and force Terra to finally put a leash on them all."

Dago looked unconvinced and said, "Lessall seemed confident that he would win."

Zerban snorted, "They always do, right up till the end. But if the Storm Heralds rise in rebellion then the Inquisition shall see I was right all along. I will lead vast armies to crush that pernicious Chapter entirely. And if I don't succeed in obliterating these rebellious upstarts then the new Lord Commander will do it for me, it's a win-win scenario."

Dago muttered, "A Chapter Master never goes undefended."

Zerban gazed at the window saying, "I still have a few favours left, a few indiscretions to use as leverage. Send a priority Astropathic message; the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum has more than one secret he doesn't want me to reveal."

"An Imperial Assassin," Dago gulped, "Isn't that overkill?"

Zerban shook his head and said, "Not in this case, I need Gorgall's death to be certain, then Lessall will start his war and we can finally move openly. By the time Terra notices this petty back-water all they will see is a rebellious and heretical Chapter. Either dead already or needing to be crushed. Make no mistake, soon the Storm Heralds shall fall and my star shall be in the ascendant once more."