NationStates Jolt Archive

OOC: Since this thread got a bit lost in the middle of the CSP, which honestly I've gotten lost in and so consider my involvement static for the moment, I decided it would be better to have the cultist meeting the Inquisitor here in this thread.

IC:

The Inquisitor waited in his quarters, sipping lightly at a glass of amasec. He never went anywhere without at least some assurance of a decent Chronosian vintage to warm his spirits. Here he was, in the midst of an unknowable amount of other nations. Perhaps none of them had ever heard of the Imperium, but those who had would be quite loath to approach him.

After all, who ever heard of those who wished to be near to the warriors of Chaos? The dark sons of Chronosia? He chuckled lightly, relaxing further into the chair. All it would take would be some over-eager fool to agitate the situation, and the Imperium might as well be out on its arse. He sighed lightly, raising the glass again, taking another deep sip.

The Emperor protects...

OOC: Since this thread got a bit lost in the middle of the CSP, which honestly I've gotten lost in and so consider my involvement static for the moment, I decided it would be better to have the cultist meeting the Inquisitor here in this thread.

IC:

The Inquisitor waited in his quarters, sipping lightly at a glass of amasec. He never went anywhere without at least some assurance of a decent Chronosian vintage to warm his spirits. Here he was, in the midst of an unknowable amount of other nations. Perhaps none of them had ever heard of the Imperium, but those who had would be quite loath to approach him.

After all, who ever heard of those who wished to be near to the warriors of Chaos? The dark sons of Chronosia? He chuckled lightly, relaxing further into the chair. All it would take would be some over-eager fool to agitate the situation, and the Imperium might as well be out on its arse. He sighed lightly, raising the glass again, taking another deep sip.

The Emperor protects...

The pilot, Horace Delafontaine, knocked on the door, and then said, bowing before it with a disconcerting eagerness: "I sense a fellow servant of the Four. I myself, a servant of the Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided wishes to make contact with you. May I come in?"

OOC: The Cult of the Second Child sees the Four Chaos Gods as Four Aspects of the Second Child, though that doesn't make them any lesser in terms of heresy, lol--they worship these "aspects" just as hard as any other cultist.

He was invited in, sat before the Inquisitor who regarded him with a mixture of quiet awe and amusement, nudging the bottle of amasec closer to him. "A drink, perhaps?" He chuckled. "Always a pleasure to meet other devotees of the Ruinous Powers. Sometimes it would seem as though the Imperium were alone in the Universe, fighting against those who would blaspheme merciful Chaos, or seek to bring back the banal worship of their rotting Corpse-God."

He was invited in, sat before the Inquisitor who regarded him with a mixture of quiet awe and amusement, nudging the bottle of amasec closer to him. "A drink, perhaps?" He chuckled. "Always a pleasure to meet other devotees of the Ruinous Powers. Sometimes it would seem as though the Imperium were alone in the Universe, fighting against those who would blaspheme merciful Chaos, or seek to bring back the banal worship of their rotting Corpse-God."

Delafontaine stood up and entered. With a nod, he said, "Aye. I hear you, good sir. And a drink would be appreciated."

Sitting down, he began to wax philosophical: "It's always as if the man's trying to put you down, you know? Everyone knows that that false Emperor-worship is just an excuse to keep the people from really making themselves strong. Damn cult that is. I mean what has HE done for me recently? Not a damn thing, I can say that, and I am happy for that."

He then said, "But I digress. Back where I come from, the Emperor-worship is strong. However, my Mistress, Kimiko Ayasugi, Prophetess of the Second Child and devotee of the Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided, is at this moment working to try and spread the will of the Four. They persecute her and her lieutenants, von Esling and LaRouche, they try to send Inquisitors after her, but by the Four she always escapes. And it is rumored she is ancient, favored by the Four for long life and agility."

"We have one such as she. A warrior-prophet of such skill and might that he puts to shame a hundred thousand warriors who would think to pledge themselves to Chaos. He rose from the dead, sundered systems in his passing and slew his own father, that he might rule and lead as a living God. He is Remiel, Scion of Chaos and true Master of Mankind. More truely than any corpse-god or devotee thereof" He chuckled.

"We have such strength of arms and dark technology, that nations would bow before us should we unleash our true strength. For we are a place where Chaos is not abhorred or down-trodden, but free and dominant. As it rightly should be. For no pantheon is so great as the Aspects of Chaos. And no God truer than their most beneficent might."

"We have one such as she. A warrior-prophet of such skill and might that he puts to shame a hundred thousand warriors who would think to pledge themselves to Chaos. He rose from the dead, sundered systems in his passing and slew his own father, that he might rule and lead as a living God. He is Remiel, Scion of Chaos and true Master of Mankind. More truely than any corpse-god or devotee thereof" He chuckled.

"We have such strength of arms and dark technology, that nations would bow before us should we unleash our true strength. For we are a place where Chaos is not abhorred or down-trodden, but free and dominant. As it rightly should be. For no pantheon is so great as the Aspects of Chaos. And no God truer than their most beneficent might."

Delafontaine was intrigued by this Remiel and the paradise he led. It seemed that Chaos had not only survived, but flourished indeed. The emperor-worshippers would call that a horrid parody of the Imperial story; but to Delafontaine, it was paradise.

He then replied, "Ah....such a one who rose from the dead to conquer an empire is indeed favored by the Gods....our Prophetess commands but a cult at this point that has the capacity to grow, were it not for the cursed Emperor-worshippers."

Sitting up, Delafontaine said, "As it stands now, it would seem that the Second Child, in all her Four Aspects has made it possible for us to meet. Therefore, it would seem only natural for our two kindred groups to work out an alliance, yes? I myself am but one acolyte of the Aspects, but the Mistress travels often, and she may yet be able to host an audience in person."

"An alliance would indeed seem profitable. I have been sent, after all, to communicate the Emperor's will to these other races, these heathens. Never did I expect to find one who worshipped the Gods themselves." He chuckled darkly. "We can help you in your war against the minions of the Corpse God, lay them low with a stream of dedicated infantry and superior weaponry."

He paused, sipping again. "All we ask in return is that you aid us in our endeavors, our glorious goals. That the Gods rule over a broken Materium, with we as their chosen and most beloved servants. Alone we are nothing, but together there is no foe who can stand against the blessed of the Gods.

Delafontaine bowed his head and said, "Many thanks be upon you, good sir. I have a feeling that would be a most agreeable arrangement. You aid us in our war against the Lady Imperiatrix's band of fools and knaves; we aid you in the common crusade."

He then asked, "Do you by any chance, have an astropath? I would like to contact the Prophetess, posthaste. She no doubt would love to hear this, and I am most eager to cement this relationship."

"I do indeed possess a member of the Astropathicus within my retinue. It is foolish to assume that any non-human entity within this galaxy means us entirely well. The Astropath ensures that I can contact my vessel should relations here..." He paused for a moment, as though vaguely amused by the concept. "...Sour"

He glanced around his quarters. "There is much that we can provide you with to fight against the lapdogs of the False Emperor. Tell me, what weapons do you possess? What numbers? I can assume you lack in such faculties as full Mechanicus Support, or the power of the Imperial Astartes" He chuckled dryly. "We hold Nine Legions of the Marines in reserve, along with the near limitless supplies of the Imperial Guard, sworn and blooded in oath to the Ruinous Powers."

He reached again for the glass of amasec, raising it delicately to his lips, sighing as he imbibed the last of it. "There is much that we can offer you, in the name of the Four Aspects of Chaos." A grin split his face. "If you are, indeed, willing"

"I do indeed possess a member of the Astropathicus within my retinue. It is foolish to assume that any non-human entity within this galaxy means us entirely well. The Astropath ensures that I can contact my vessel should relations here..." He paused for a moment, as though vaguely amused by the concept. "...Sour"

He glanced around his quarters. "There is much that we can provide you with to fight against the lapdogs of the False Emperor. Tell me, what weapons do you possess? What numbers? I can assume you lack in such faculties as full Mechanicus Support, or the power of the Imperial Astartes" He chuckled dryly. "We hold Nine Legions of the Marines in reserve, along with the near limitless supplies of the Imperial Guard, sworn and blooded in oath to the Ruinous Powers."

He reached again for the glass of amasec, raising it delicately to his lips, sighing as he imbibed the last of it. "There is much that we can offer you, in the name of the Four Aspects of Chaos." A grin split his face. "If you are, indeed, willing"

Delafontaine said, with a tinge of sadness, "As of yet, our Prophetess-Mistress is forced to travel aboard a mobile command station. We have some underground tunnel networks on the peripheral worlds of Hailung VI and VII, and we have cells in the hive cities of the Fourth World. As of yet though, we are but an invisible force in terms of numbers. We are an underground resistance, for the people of Hailung will not listen to the ways of the Aspects."

He then beamed with pride though, as he went on.

"To compensate for that though, we do possess considerable fecundity and skill. Our Grand Magus, Alastair LaRouche, is a devotee of Tzeentch, and has considerable command of His Gifts in combat versus our foes (OOC: Resident Chaos Sorcerer). He commands our Psykic forces in the Phantasm Brigade's 101st Section. We do not have many Psykers, alas. They are usually the first targets. But when you see one kill an Inquisitor at 200 yards with mindbullets...it is impressive."

"Karl von Esling, a confidant of our Prophetess-Mistress, is an able lieutenant. I do not know him personally, but it is said he is skilled in the arts of deception and intelligence and leads the Cult's intelligence arm, the Phantasm Brigade. He has experience in some kind of Inquisitorial service of ages past--something called Stasi. Perhaps it is a section of the Imperium, I do not know. He is my boss; I work in the 1st Section myself."

As he described Karl von Esling, the Inquisitor could probably see an element of not only pride, but some puzzlement and curiosity at his bosses' origins. What was the Stasi? (OOC: Working off the premise not many Imperials would recognize a relic of East Germany.)

Delafontaine then ended with:

"As for our members themselves, they command little in the way of heavy vehicles or weapons like the Emperor-worshippers do. We do possess the capacity to manufacture lasguns and many types of heavy infantry weapons, including explosives. We also command a small pirate fleet, drawn from Rogue Traders, and small contingent of Orks and Dark Eldar, for transport and special missions.

However, many of them are experienced guerillas from years of resistance in the service of the Aspects--they are hardened fighters who will not waver and have experience necessary to train the new arrivals, often undisciplined hive gangers, so-called Rogue Psykers who could go off at any moment and unloved mutants who are admittedly even too overeager for my taste."

"Most interesting...Though desperation has driven you to consort with the Xenos filth of this universe, undeserving before the might of true Mankind." He chuckled lightly, sipping at his drink. "She sounds to be a wise leader, crafty and cunning as only the best are. The Emperor, who lives and reigns upon the hallowed Daemonworld of Chronosia Prime, would wish to meet with her, to better further our goals, and shatter those who oppose the will of the Gods."

"We can provide you with weapons, vehicles, mighty arms and the men to use them. We can teach you how to build much, and cultivate more. For we are privy to the dark ancient knowledge of Man, as held by our own debased Mechanicus. Hallowed is the polluted technology, blessed is the will of Chaos upon their feeble spirits"

"Most interesting...Though desperation has driven you to consort with the Xenos filth of this universe, undeserving before the might of true Mankind." He chuckled lightly, sipping at his drink. "She sounds to be a wise leader, crafty and cunning as only the best are. The Emperor, who lives and reigns upon the hallowed Daemonworld of Chronosia Prime, would wish to meet with her, to better further our goals, and shatter those who oppose the will of the Gods."

"We can provide you with weapons, vehicles, mighty arms and the men to use them. We can teach you how to build much, and cultivate more. For we are privy to the dark ancient knowledge of Man, as held by our own debased Mechanicus. Hallowed is the polluted technology, blessed is the will of Chaos upon their feeble spirits"

Delafontaine loved this news. He chuckled at the thought of Prophetess-Mistress Ayasugi meeting the esteemed Emperor of Chronosia. He also was somewhat suspicious of the Inquisitor's stance on xenos--if the Prophetess had to use xenos to pursue her ends, then so be it. Meh. They had to do what they had to do to spread the Way.

He then said, "What kind of mighty arms? Thunderhawk gunships? Leman Russes?"

He then said, getting an idea: "Perhaps. . .Defilers? Or even the legendary Astartes, like those of the fabled Thousand Sons or the Word Bearers!? Our Grand Magus and the Prophetess spoke of their accomplishments for the Aspects. And the Imperials certainly hate and fear them. We can use them, along with our existing operations to bring dissatisfied Imperial Guard units under our command."

"Thunderhawks and Russes indeed! Along with mighty Stormbirds. We have Defilers and Dreadnoughts, even nine Legios Astartes loyal to the Aspects. Even Baneblades and Predators are commisioned in His Name, that we might better subjugate this galaxy for our glorious Masters in the Warp." He bowed his head.

"Blessed are they who are beyond explanation, blessed are they whose very names are corruption itself, and whose unholy purity shall burn clean the stars rightly belonging to they and their Servants, who are faithful beyond compare."

Delafontaine gave a cry of "whoop whoop!" and said, "That's what I'm talking about, brother. Your heart's in the right place, as is mine--I can feel the Aspects granting their blessings already. We'd be fools to not take you up on the offer."

He then said, "But back to why I asked about the Astropath. I'd like either one of us to send a message to the Prophetess-Mistress' ship, the Petshop of Horrors via that channel as soon as possible."

The Inquisitor gestured and the bent form of an Astropath emerged from one of the other rooms. It's back was hideously crooked, as though it had been forced to crawl for all of its miserable existence, its spine riddled with datajacks and other input terminals, tiny nodules of bone and machinery rising in antenna-like protrusions all the way along it.

The thing had no eyes, hissing and whispering to itself in blindness, with a strip of dirty, black-red, cloth across its empty sockets. It muttered something, looking up as though perfectly equipped with eyes.

"What....What do you ask of me, Lords?"

The Inquisitor gestured and the bent form of an Astropath emerged from one of the other rooms. It's back was hideously crooked, as though it had been forced to crawl for all of its miserable existence, its spine riddled with datajacks and other input terminals, tiny nodules of bone and machinery rising in antenna-like protrusions all the way along it.

The thing had no eyes, hissing and whispering to itself in blindness, with a strip of dirty, black-red, cloth across its empty sockets. It muttered something, looking up as though perfectly equipped with eyes.

"What....What do you ask of me, Lords?"

Delafontaine then said to the Astropath, "Excellent. Astropath, I want you to send this message to the ship Petshop of Horrors;we have an Astropath onboard whose presence will be obvious. Send this message to the Prophetess-Mistress aboard: tell her that Horace Delafontaine, worthy servant of the Second Child and Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided, has discovered a powerful force of like-minded warriors that may be able to help us in our endeavor, based on the planet of Chronosia Prime. Please come either to the Constantine Spaceport at the first opportunity."

"I would not advise that your lady come here...He who is most honored, the most glorious Scion, he whose will suffocates all beneath its might, would not wish his new ally to be so threatened. Instead, you will provide means for Imperial agents to contact her...Or for a neutral ground to be found, where we might meet." The inquisitor chuckled.

"We cannot have you throwing away her life before the Gods demand it, now can we?"

"I would not advise that your lady come here...He who is most honored, the most glorious Scion, he whose will suffocates all beneath its might, would not wish his new ally to be so threatened. Instead, you will provide means for Imperial agents to contact her...Or for a neutral ground to be found, where we might meet." The inquisitor chuckled.

"We cannot have you throwing away her life before the Gods demand it, now can we?"

Delafontaine then said, realizing the Inquisitor's words, "But of course. Perhaps we should host the meeting on the Horrors itself."

He then wrote a set of coordinates on a slip of paper, and handed it to the Inquisitor, saying, "These are coordinates outside of Hailung, near a belt of asteroids named Hogan's Alley. Would it be more acceptable if we parked there, and Chronosian agents met with Her there?"

"Much." The Inquisitor smiled darkly, glancing at the Astropath to whom he whispers, kneeling by his ear to tell the coordinates and what must be sent. "We shall dispatch a diplomatic entreaty as soon as we are able. Along with more interesting agents from our Imperium. Guard representatives, Mechanicus, Astartes...All will be present, and will have detailed information on all we can offer you...

And detailed ideas as to the liberation of Occupied Hailung." He chuckled at the conceit. "Now, send your message...And then run along and be a good little Corpse-worshipper."

"Much." The Inquisitor smiled darkly, glancing at the Astropath to whom he whispers, kneeling by his ear to tell the coordinates and what must be sent. "We shall dispatch a diplomatic entreaty as soon as we are able. Along with more interesting agents from our Imperium. Guard representatives, Mechanicus, Astartes...All will be present, and will have detailed information on all we can offer you...

And detailed ideas as to the liberation of Occupied Hailung." He chuckled at the conceit. "Now, send your message...And then run along and be a good little Corpse-worshipper."

Delafontaine bowed his head, and said, "This has been most glorious, brother. This is but the beginning of a beautiful friendship." He cackled as well, and said, "Before I go, a toast, my good man, a toast! To the destruction of the arrogant Emperor-cultists, and to the rise of the Four!"

"To the destruction of the Imperial Cult and to the glory of Chaos Ascendant!" He grinned as he raised the glass, before draining it in a single fluid motion, smiling at the pilot as he does. "Now, I'd imagine your Inquisitor will be looking for you. Remember, the Emperor protects"

The Inquisitor whispered again to the Astropath sanctifying the message home with the most secure psy-locks, to be geno-locked for Upper Heirarchy members alone, while he left the message to the cult's leader as it was, trasmitted across the astropathic currents of the Warp.

The Emperor protects indeed.

"To the destruction of the Imperial Cult and to the glory of Chaos Ascendant!" He grinned as he raised the glass, before draining it in a single fluid motion, smiling at the pilot as he does. "Now, I'd imagine your Inquisitor will be looking for you. Remember, the Emperor protects"

The Inquisitor whispered again to the Astropath sanctifying the message home with the most secure psy-locks, to be geno-locked for Upper Heirarchy members alone, while he left the message to the cult's leader as it was, trasmitted across the astropathic currents of the Warp.

The Emperor protects indeed.

Delafointaine bowed and said, "The true Emperor protects indeed," exiting the room.

---------------

Petshop of Horrors

Sipping green tea and lounging in a fancy leather chaise in simple yet somewhat revealing robes, Kimiko Ayasugi was watching the TV. She had a hard day's training, nearly killing one of her sparring partners when she dealt the man a severe blow to the head. Scratch that. Sixteen blows. Fifteen roundhouses, one very harsh uppercut. Not that she thought it odd, for her, that was par for the course. Fighting form was important, and it wasn't like the partners cared. The elite cultists, usually from the Phantasm Brigade or the Omnitsu section felt it an honor to spar with her.

She then flipped the channels, yawning as she saw the usual drivel. Old reruns of Cheers broadcasted by humanity long ago. Hailungese soap operas--was Jacobo or was Kern the father of Melina's baby? Maybe even a saint's life or two. She hated those. Mere propaganda those, with their gory and smug homilies about "the purity of the Emperor's will" and the almost mechanical recollections of their achievements, and how Chaos just "magically" surrendered after a long fight.

She sighed, and then said, "Nothing on.....nothing on....nothing on..."

Turning off the tv, she was then greeted by Miki, her cat. Leaping into her lap, Kimiko then said, "Aw, there's a nice kitty. Who's a nice kitty!?"

Reginald, her creepy, hunchbacked butler, opened the door and said, "Mistress--"

At this, Kimiko immediately threw the cat to the side, lept to her feet, and ran up to Reginald. Grabbing him by his neck in a choke hold, she then said, "Damnit Reginald!? How many times have I told your sorry gimpy ass to knock!?!!!," the last bit emphasized with a squeeze.

She then dropped him onto the floor, and he then said, kowtowing and frantic, "A thousand apologies, mistress. The Astropaths report something extraordinary. One of our agents has encountered a like minded group of believers who may be able to help us in our endeavors. These people call themselves Chronosians, and they request a meeting with us!"

Kimiko's mood then changed dramatically. She smiled, and turned cheery and bubbly, as if a different person were in that spot, saying, "Not bad, Reginald. Not bad. Get off the floor and clean yourself up." She then said, "Reginald, let me change into something decent."

Kimiko's aggressive side then came back, saying, "And stay out! A girl needs her privacy, and I will rip you into little shreds and hand you to the Daemonettes if you interrupt me, so help me!"

After changing into a resplendent General's uniform, she greeted Reginald with a hearty slap on the back, she then said, "Come on! You look terrible! Cheer up! And get me a copy of that message, if you please."

Reginald, used to these capricious changes in mood, led her to the Astropaths' hall. There, a cultist saluted Kimiko in the fascist style, and said, bowing, "My mistress." He then held out the note.

Snatching it from the man's hand, Kimiko perused it, saying, "Hmm....excellent....oh baby....mmm....MMM!" She immediately said, "Brother, inform the Navigators to chart a course to the listed coordinates. And tell the kitchen staff to prepare the good china, and the good liquor, and the good food. We're having guests."

The cultist then said, "Good liquor?"

Kimiko said, patting him on the back, "Kitchen staff will know what I mean. Now go."

The man saluted back, bowed, and ran off. Kimiko, meanwhile, said to Reginald, growing much more deadly, "Reginald, advise all Brothers and Sisters onboard that I will be in quarters. Tell them not to disturb me, lest they wish to know pain as they have never known it before. We have guests."

Reginald then said, "I will tell the XO."

Kimiko then said, "That's the spirit." She then began merrily skipping with anticipation, as she sang, "Genocide/without asking why!" Her orders were carried out, and the ship lurched towards its course.

Reality seemed to buckle beneath the onslaught of the immaterium, as the immense vessel slid free from its confines, once again gracing the material plane with its pestilant might. The ship itself seemed almost corroded, as though some great calamity had blighted it with rust, yet it still moved, intact, almost seeming stronger than ever. The Pestilant Pleasure was, if anything, an immense and predatory warship, worthy of being called flagship of Lucian.

He called the Herald, he known as Nurgle's Chosen.

The communications arrays seemed to crackle and hiss, coughing as though the vox-links themselves were sick, as though the entire ship was fundamentally afflicted. Every the space around it seemed to twist and seethe and sicken. Now, a voice, choked by phlegm yet filled with unnatural strength, boomed over the vox.

In the name of the most high and true Master of Mankind, he declared Emperor by the will of the Powers Ruinous, blessed of he who is Nurgle, I bid you greetings. I am Lucian, brother-Primarch to the Lord Remiel. I would offer to you my hand in friendship and brotherhood, to the shared doom of the False Emperor and the glory of the Dark Gods.

I await your leisure, my Lady most esteemed. We have much to offer, much that I have brought for your amusement. Hear the word of Chaos, heed the will of Nurgle and accept this offer of the Imperium.

And let our cultures thrive together

Upon the bridge of the Pleasure, the bloated form of Lucian gazed out at the Petshop of Horrors, a smirk hidden behind his helmet-mask. Much was coming together, new allies were rising as surely as new enemies. He would visit upon them all the glories of Nurgle they did not possess, and let the will of the Plague Lord guide them at his side, to Remiel, to the Imperium...

To glory.

Reality seemed to buckle beneath the onslaught of the immaterium, as the immense vessel slid free from its confines, once again gracing the material plane with its pestilant might. The ship itself seemed almost corroded, as though some great calamity had blighted it with rust, yet it still moved, intact, almost seeming stronger than ever. The Pestilant Pleasure was, if anything, an immense and predatory warship, worthy of being called flagship of Lucian.

He called the Herald, he known as Nurgle's Chosen.

The communications arrays seemed to crackle and hiss, coughing as though the vox-links themselves were sick, as though the entire ship was fundamentally afflicted. Every the space around it seemed to twist and seethe and sicken. Now, a voice, choked by phlegm yet filled with unnatural strength, boomed over the vox.

In the name of the most high and true Master of Mankind, he declared Emperor by the will of the Powers Ruinous, blessed of he who is Nurgle, I bid you greetings. I am Lucian, brother-Primarch to the Lord Remiel. I would offer to you my hand in friendship and brotherhood, to the shared doom of the False Emperor and the glory of the Dark Gods.

I await your leisure, my Lady most esteemed. We have much to offer, much that I have brought for your amusement. Hear the word of Chaos, heed the will of Nurgle and accept this offer of the Imperium.

And let our cultures thrive together

Upon the bridge of the Pleasure, the bloated form of Lucian gazed out at the Petshop of Horrors, a smirk hidden behind his helmet-mask. Much was coming together, new allies were rising as surely as new enemies. He would visit upon them all the glories of Nurgle they did not possess, and let the will of the Plague Lord guide them at his side, to Remiel, to the Imperium...

To glory.

Kimiko heard the message while brushing her teeth and having the lint rolled off of her general's uniform, and so did the crewmen of the Petshop. Even for Chaos cultists, it was somewhat imposing; such raw filth mixed with raw energy seemed quite out of place, yet quite appropriate. Kimiko raised an eyebrow and said, "Hmm. Looks like our guests have arrived."

She then walked to her personal vox and pict communicator and opened a channel to the Pleasure, speaking in a silky smooth voice full of eerily levelheaded grace: "Glad you could stop by, Lucian. The name's Kimiko Ayasugi, Prophetess of the Second Child, and Servant of Her Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided. We are honored by your presence. I'm getting cleaned up right now, but don't worry. We've rolled out the red carpet for you. You can come over when ready to Hangar Bay 1."

She then finished up, and then walked out of the room. Chewing a mint, she proceeded to call out for Reginald, who limped to her side, saying in his ever creepy voice, "You needed me, my lady?"

Kimiko then said, crossing her arms across her chest, "Reginald, did the staff prepare a proper reception for our guests?"

Reginald nodded and said, "Yes....they did.....the meals are ready."

She then snapped her fingers and said, "Good. Now, I need you to have the staff assemble an honor guard. Give the man a 21 gun salute. And, have matenance prepare extra duty shifts."

Reginald nodded and said, "It shall be done."

Kimiko then marched to one of the hangar bays, where Dark Eldar fighters and captured Furies from the Imperials were station, properly consecrated with the signs of Chaos. The cultists were assembled, with Arisaka rifles loaded with blanks, to prevent damage to the ship. Standing at order arms, they were ready to fire at a moments' notice. She then stood, awaiting the arrival...

The tarnished hulk of a Thunderhawk tore itself free from one of the Pleasures fighter bays, swaying and weaving across the void towards the prepared hanger of Kimiko's ship. Runes of unholy pestilence gleamed like pus upon its surface, dedicating it to the glorious lord of Plague, Nurgle. Lucian's gunship shdudered to a stop, dropping low on mechanical legs that seemed to thrum with unknowable power, dripping ichor.

The doors slid open, and the Herald himself strode forth, his mighty terminator plate aglow with unhealthy strength. It's plate was green-white, streaked with blood and pus and all manner of unholy growth. Insects scuttled and crawled upon it, nestled within its crevices, further adding to the palpable aura of sickness. At his side were two fully armored Terminators, bloated with plague, ichor leaking from their hidden sores.

Behind his helmet Lucian licked his lips, savoring the taste in the air. There was awe and fear, as befitted a Primarch of the Imperium. He gurgled as he moved, his body fuelled by the will of Father Nurgle, to spread his fetid will.

"My greetings and my thanks, Prophetess. The Emperor sends me to bring his light to you and your kind. In the name of Chaos, we come amongst you, and bring their blessings."

The tarnished hulk of a Thunderhawk tore itself free from one of the Pleasures fighter bays, swaying and weaving across the void towards the prepared hanger of Kimiko's ship. Runes of unholy pestilence gleamed like pus upon its surface, dedicating it to the glorious lord of Plague, Nurgle. Lucian's gunship shdudered to a stop, dropping low on mechanical legs that seemed to thrum with unknowable power, dripping ichor.

The doors slid open, and the Herald himself strode forth, his mighty terminator plate aglow with unhealthy strength. It's plate was green-white, streaked with blood and pus and all manner of unholy growth. Insects scuttled and crawled upon it, nestled within its crevices, further adding to the palpable aura of sickness. At his side were two fully armored Terminators, bloated with plague, ichor leaking from their hidden sores.

Behind his helmet Lucian licked his lips, savoring the taste in the air. There was awe and fear, as befitted a Primarch of the Imperium. He gurgled as he moved, his body fuelled by the will of Father Nurgle, to spread his fetid will.

"My greetings and my thanks, Prophetess. The Emperor sends me to bring his light to you and your kind. In the name of Chaos, we come amongst you, and bring their blessings."

The guards raised their rifles, and echoed their 21 gun salute. The crack of guns was followed a call to shoulder arms. The fetid stench that accompanied the man was overwhelming, but it was the norm for the cultists onboard. Still, there was an uneasy feeling in the air. Especially, it made Kimiko, who was accustomed to a somewhat picky level of cleanliness and style, uneasy. She said nothing though. After all, the guy brought Termies--not people you wanted to mess with.

Kimiko returned the Primarch's words with a curtsy and said, "And in the name of the Second Child, I humbly recieve you." With a smile, she stood back up and said with plenty of relishable irony: "You and your retinue look charming today, Primarch. I see Father Nurgle's been quite generous."

She then said, beaming with an almost blindingly friendly, maternal, yet cunningly charming warmth, "Well, tonight, you will be dining in my company." Moving in closer, she held back a gag reflex with considerable skill and stealth and said, keeping up her cheery tone as she rattled off the items to be served: "And believe me, we'll be just as generous! We've got several courses lined up, and a selection of liquors to die for. Amasec, whiskey, sacra, all manners of beer, and even a few exotic specialties rarely seen elsewhere."

With a wink, she concluded, "And I promise you, dinner will be just as fabulous. You won't be dissapointed."

She then backpedaled, and motioned for Lucian and his men to come with her, saying, "So if you please gentlemen--follow me. You won't regret it."

Enough decadant civility to choke even a devotee of the Prince of Excess, was the thought that crossed Lucian's mind as he watched almost bemused as Kimiko reeled out the pleasantries and the offers of fine dining. He almost chuckled. What were such luxuries to one dedicated to Grandfather Nurgle? What was the finest food in all the galaxies if it was but ashes on his tongue? What were all the draughts of elixir, that could never quench his thirst?

Still. Some delightful tortures would have to be endured.

"My thanks to you, Prophetess. My brother desires nothing more than true cooperation amongst our respective houses, bowing as we do to the same Gods. Who would deny you victory over the Corpse God and his legions? Who would deny you the right to rule where only weakness endures? Not we. You see the blessings Nurgle has wrought upon me, and the vessel that waits my return, but one fragment of warfleets to put ancient Terra to shame.

We are the chosen of the Gods, Prophetess. We Chronosians, and your brood. Together we shall bring forth their Will, and unmake the very stars. That the lesser races, the false prophets and the heretics, might know of us again. And know that the way of Chaos, is the only true path."

We are the chosen of the Gods, Prophetess. We Chronosians, and your brood. Together we shall bring forth their Will, and unmake the very stars. That the lesser races, the false prophets and the heretics, might know of us again. And know that the way of Chaos, is the only true path."

Kimiko chimed in, turning to them as she walked to the dining hall: "I hear you brother Lucian, your heart's in the right spot. I can say its time to shake things up a little bit. They call us heretics because we've got a different way of doing things that's not such a drag, but they're the problem! I've seen those hivecities, Lucian. They could use a little Chaos. And we're the perfect vehicle. They want some divine judgment, they're gonna get it."

She then pointed out her crewmen, who had any number of mutations, gifts of their new benefactors. Some had the same kind of rot Lucian had, with gangrenous skin aplenty, nasty breath, and bugs all over, others had tentacles, and such. Others seemed jumpier, angrier, and more ready to shoot. With a smile she said, "These loyal, enlightened men have internalized the lessons of Chaos Undivided well. You might recognize those who've been blessed by Father Nurgle." She called out to one of the techs, saying, "Right Sargeant Cornelius?!"

A sickly man said, "Right you are, prophetess," and nodded before going back to work. Kimiko responded with, "Keep up the good work, the Second needs your devotion!" She then said, "That's dedication. Still, they could use those wonderful Terminator suits though," eyeing Lucian's guards. "That would be most awesome. My men keep wishing they had some. Oh, we're here."

Reginald, in all his hunchbacked glory, bowed and said, "Evening, sir. Welcome.....please, sit down," walking inside in his ungainly manner and pulling out a chair for the Primarch. It was the finest, sturdiest chair on site; good even for guys in special armor, like Lucian. Kimiko then sat at her portion of the table across from Lucian, and in a most girlish fashion, unfurled the napkin and folded it on her lap, after handing her coat to an attendant.

"Perhaps in time prophetess, the Gods will mark you as truly deserving of the more...Esoteric gifts we could offer you." He gurgled, a coughed laughter passing through the air as he regarded her, so eager to do Their work, so truly devoted that her insanity was almost as a blessing. A blessing as sure and certain as the mark of Grandfather Nurgle upon him, and the others.

The blessings of the other Gods were evident too, their devotion to the "Second Child" marking themas chosen of the divinity of Chaos. It mattered not what name it went by, so long as the Gods, in the end, recieved their due.

"My brother, the divine Emperor, would offer you much. Power, resources, the massed armaments of his Guard, the God-Machine incarnate. Greater secrets of the Mechanicus and the power to forge true Astartes." He smirked. "Nine legions grace the Chronosian Imperium with their might, each sworn to a God of Chaos, or to the great Undivided.

I am sure you have questions of me, and mine...."

"My brother, the divine Emperor, would offer you much. Power, resources, the massed armaments of his Guard, the God-Machine incarnate. Greater secrets of the Mechanicus and the power to forge true Astartes." He smirked. "Nine legions grace the Chronosian Imperium with their might, each sworn to a God of Chaos, or to the great Undivided.

I am sure you have questions of me, and mine...."

Kimiko was sorely tempted by the buffet of options in front of her. Mechanicus secrets, Guard guns, resources to really shake things up and....dear Second...the motherlovin' Space Marines?!

Her eyes widened with hunger and naked greed, and a smile like that of a child recieving the hottest new toy for Christmas emerged on her face.

After considering the possibilities wistfully, indeed almost to the point unbearable joy and almost drooling in the sheer ecstasy, she reasserted herself and said, "Woah. Where was I....oh yeah, those gifts, and all those resources. We'd sorely like much better weapons, like armored vehicles, infantry guns beyond heavy stubbers, and maybe a way for us to have a better fleet arm to make raids with."

She then leaned over, with her hands on her arms, and said, wistfully "Now as for Marines....I could use some Marines. The men I have right now are awesome but seeing those Termies makes me aspire to something more--I'd like a suit of Terminator armor." Her voice growing higher and excited as she spoke of the thought, "That would rock so hard! Me in Terminator ar-"

Regaining control once again, she grew deathly serious, as if somebody else replaced Kimiko in the room. Gone was the happy, amused, Kimiko, and now her dark side emerged. Continuing by coughing, straightening herself up, and behaving with stiff resolve: "Of course, considering the deal in total and the fact you've opened the floor to questions, first off, how much aid are we talking about? Second of all, what do you need from me in return? And third of all, why the use of Imperial names? I'd have expected you to cast off the old symbols of the false Emperor when you guys came into your own; I know I will when I take power."

"In the age of the False Emperor, did Horus cast off the names that defined his men, and all they fought for? No. While the Mechanicum are the Dark Mechanicus of hushed myth, and the Astartes are pure, Chaos Space Marines, why should we change these things?

Chaos did not come upon us and chisel off all that defined us. It remade us, reshaped us, but kept so much the same. The Inquisition is changed, to defend the New Faith, but it serves the Gods in all their dark glory. We have such sights to show you, child." That gurgling laughter again.

"If you do desire Terminator plate for yourself, then you must become more than a mere mortal, assuming you are not so already. We have surgeons and bio-scholars, genetors and bionic experts, who could remake so much of you. Reform you as the New Humanity, blessed with the gifts of the Astartes and the Gods"

"If you do desire Terminator plate for yourself, then you must become more than a mere mortal, assuming you are not so already. We have surgeons and bio-scholars, genetors and bionic experts, who could remake so much of you. Reform you as the New Humanity, blessed with the gifts of the Astartes and the Gods"

Kimiko smiled and said, still in her "dark" mentality, "Oh, my dear Lucian, when you've lived as long as I have, the line between mortal and immortal starts to dissapear."

She gestured to Reginald, who brought her a long cigarette-holder. Taking a puff on it, she continued, saying, "Hell, I can remember things from the Dark Age of Technology, as the Emperor-worshippers call it. Before the Second Child and the forces of Chaos Undivided came to me, I was but an ordinary woman, one who fought for my rights against a very hostile world. I loved something others did not, and for that, i was dragged through the mud all my life."

Snickering with sarcastic glee, she then said, "Well, they should never have taught me explosives usage in that army of theirs. With those, I tried to spread my beliefs among them, to show them the way of the Second Child. But, they refused to listen.

Continuing with another drag off the cigarette, she continued, "When they refused to listen, I tried to escape using a starship I had acquired myself. But then, a Warp storm got me. I got lost for a bit--time gets dilated in the Warp, you may know this--and crashed on a world which happened to be blessed by Chaos and the Second. They recognized my predicament, and my desire for vengance and power; they deemed me fit to continue my works in their name, to fight against the foul forces of Terra that had once cast me out.

So, in exchange for my loyalty to the Second, it showed me the Four Aspects of Chaos Undivided, and granted me numerous gifts. An army of loyal followers that would not fail like those that had served me before. My old lieutenants, several of whom survived, as well as new friends I met. These damn good looks--Slaanesh is the best friend a girl can have, you know? And, a damn good bill of health. Physically at least; my combat prowess is top-notch. I feel not a day over what, 23, 26--and they say I'm older than that."

She concluded with, "But getting back to your original point--I do so hate going on tangents--to address your first point, I see. Why throw out the old institutions when they can be purified? A much more cost-effective, and yet more fulfilling method. Besides, now that I think of it--its feindishly subversive--I find that amusing, clever and altogether useful as a tool to put those Emperor-worshipers in their place.

And second of all, I may not need full Terminator armor after all; as I have declared, I am no mere mortal. But some combat augmentations and some new weapons would be necessary to keep that competitive edge. And I know several good servants of mine that would make excellent candidates for such upgrades to the New Humanity of Chaos, to become Astartes.

Also, about those other items and questions I mentioned?"

Lucian chuckled as he listened. "A fine tale, worthy of the lofty history of Chronosia itself, from the founding to the Fall. From First to Second Age, there are boundless legends to be told of our people and their deeds. As to you, I am certain we could arrange something that would allow you to utilise our technology, and of course be able to augment those whom you deem worthy." He gurgled, coughing lightly before continuing.

"What do we offer? Enough to bring you victory against the Corpse-Worshippers of the False Emperor. What do we wish in return? Only your devotion to the Gods in the coming days of tumult. This galaxy must burn for their will to be spread, worlds must be cleansed of heresy and idolatry. None should stand against the glories of the Ruinous Powers.

Together, our institutions could forge empires in the name of Chaos, take cultures and make them great through the witcheries of the Warp. We could easily do this alone, but what fun is it to be the only ones blessed and purified? There are countless who must join us if the galaxy is to kneel before its true masters, the Lords of the Immaterium.

It merely remains to be seen, my lady, whether or not you shall accept our generous aid. Or whether you shall turn us down. This is the work of the Gods, lady, shall you shirk from it?"

It merely remains to be seen, my lady, whether or not you shall accept our generous aid. Or whether you shall turn us down. This is the work of the Gods, lady, shall you shirk from it?"

Amused, Kimiko leaned back, thought for a moment, and stood up, leaned on the table and then met his challenge with eye contact and a simple, "I'll take your offer; besides, we've got Ruinous Powers to serve and I've got past abuses to avenge; we can't let those damned emperor-worshippers stop us now. It's time we taught them a sorely needed lesson in who can really deliver divine justice, isn't it?"

She then sat down, and as she did thus, one of the staff, man who was beginning to take on a disturbingly bright complexion, then came out and said, bowing to both persons in the room: "Prophetess, Esteemed Primarch, we are bringing out drinks and appetizers right now. Appetizers will be a pea soup with Essence of Catachan Devil, served with garlic toast and carpaccio."

Kimiko clapped her hands together, licking her chops, her businesslike and serious manner fading back into her hyperactive, saccharine sweet mode as she said, "Oh my, essence of Catachan Devil! Excellent stuff, it'll kill ya if you don't make it right but otherwise it tastes pretty damn good. Do try it, Lucian. The chefs here make it nice and neat, andbesides, if they don't, I have ways of making sure they do....eh? Eh?" She then uttered a laugh and then said, "Send it over, garcon. And vintage tonight?"

The garcon said "A fine Robert's Vineyard."

Kimiko then said, "Excellent, I'll take a glass. What about you, Lucian?"

"My honor, lady." He gurgled, chuckling throatily as he gazed about him. He reached up, removing his helmet. His scalp was hairless, and tubes perforated his throat, metal merging with his throat, joining into the collars of his armor. He gurgled, a bloated, green tongue sliding over his ulcerated lips. His flesh was rotten, riven with the taint of lord Nurgle himself.

"And look! Nurgle himself placed upon him his mark. And he was the Herald and the Bringer of Death, and Lord of Flies and Master of Disease. And the dark blessings flowed from his flesh." He chuckled, harsh and scathing. "I am made glorious by his blessings, my lady. I am made pure by his might.

Nurgle lives within me, alive with his most blessed gifts...I am as much a part of him, as any Daemon. As much bound to him as rot to flesh. With the combined might of your organisation and the Imperium, we can bring the slaves of the false Emperor to their knees"

Used to hideous mutations occurring among her men, she simply took the grotesque sight in stead and ignored the smell which would inevitably follow the unveiling of his true face. Some of her men couldn't stand either, and left the room.

She then shrugged and said in a flattering tone: "Personally, they say one of the most attractive things about a man is their scent. Guess some people can't handle the pressure!" With a chuckle, she then greeted the waiter with glee.

The drinks arrived in earnest, the Slaaneshi waiter placing down the fine crystal glasses and then pouring out the wine from a very ominous looking decanter. She then leaned to the waiter and whispered seriously: "Do me a favor. Did you see those guys that left because of our guest?"

He nodded. She then said, "Find them, and have Reginald hand them over to our Dark Eldar pilots. Marnan and Zann. Just for a day. And tell them their Prophetess will not stand for weakness in front of honored guests. Capice?"

The man nodded evilly and said, "Oh yes...it will be done...."

Kimiko then said, "Right. Apologies, dear Lucian, but I had to deal with some matters. Mainly, how to show our personnel proper decorum when dealing with such honored individuals as yourself."

She then picked up her glass and smiled, saying, "Death to the foul servants of Terra! Long live the Four!"

"Glory to the Four, Glory to Papa Nurgle!" He hissed, his voice rising in banal worship. "Our Lords dwell beyond the veil of the Empyrean, but they shall emerge and bring ruination to our enemies! They shall tear down this fetid Materium, and replace it with a warp-touched paradise.

Many are the domains of Daemons within the Imperium! Worlds given over to the Warp and to Chaos." He grins, a broken toothed grimace, a snarl of utter hatred.

"We shall bring the dogs of the Emperor to their knees, and break them. They shall swear allegience to Chaos, or they shall die."

"Glory to the Four, Glory to Papa Nurgle!" He hissed, his voice rising in banal worship. "Our Lords dwell beyond the veil of the Empyrean, but they shall emerge and bring ruination to our enemies! They shall tear down this fetid Materium, and replace it with a warp-touched paradise.

Many are the domains of Daemons within the Imperium! Worlds given over to the Warp and to Chaos." He grins, a broken toothed grimace, a snarl of utter hatred.

"We shall bring the dogs of the Emperor to their knees, and break them. They shall swear allegience to Chaos, or they shall die."

Kimiko replied with a cheer of, "Amen, brother! Amen! The Galaxy will burn; the cradle will rock, and the universe will know the hard--but true--hand of the Ruinous Powers!"

She agreed with her new ally's speech; it was stirring, in a morbid and slightly scary sort of way--typical Chaos. Sipping from the glass, she sipped from it and then wiped her mouth with a cloth napkin.

The waiters, meanwhile, we're getting impaitent, and she motioned for them to wait until Lucian finished.

Lucian finished his meal, wiping his sallow lips with the back on his hand. He pushed the plate away from him and leant forward, rotting teeth shifting as he spoke, the hum of insects skittering behind his voice.

"The Gods have plans for all of us. The Changer, cursed as he is, has shown to my brother, my Emperor, a vision of things to come. Every warrior of the True Gods will be needed in the coming tumult.

The very firmament of space and time shall rock beneath our assault, groan beneath our weight...For we have placed in this a great deal of trust, and preperation.

Will you be with us, when the Gods choose their appointed hour, my dear?"