Editing The Tales of the Emperasque: Part Fourteen (section)

==9-112-001-M42==

Isha stood on the shores of the tiny inland sea and smiled. The Webway portal she had utilized to travel to Menhsamesh was situated in a cunningly disguised waterway fortress, and the first thing she had done upon bidding Ulthwé farewell was walk to the sea.<br>
Her guard of several Exodite riflemen and the Knight leader stood distant, keeping a respectful watch, as Isha leaned back and enjoyed the fresh salt breeze across her scarred skin, at ease. At length, she turned and beckoned one of them over, and she obligingly trotted over to her Goddess.<br>
“My lady?” she asked, as she came within range.<br>
“Tell me…how many Webway gates are there on this world?” Ishas inquired, glancing back at the rock fortress.<br>
“Only two, my lady, one here and one at the Infinite Dome,” the guard said reverently.<br>
“That being…?”<br>
“Ah, the place where the World Hub is stored,” the guard hastened to explain. “It is to be used only for trade and travel.”<br>
“Of course,” Isha said, returning her gaze to the sea. The guard pressed on.<br>
“May I ask why, my lady?”<br>
“Because I expect that I will need to visit other worlds from time to time, and am led to believe that your people make little use of them,” Isha said.<br>
“Very true, my lady. We are nomads in our ways.” The guard nodded once to acknowledge Isha’s silent dismissal and turned, moving back to the others.


----


Nearly ten kilometers away, in a high cliff overlooking the spectacle, a pair of optic magnifiers fell to the ground and shattered, dropped from trembling hands. An alien, clad in dark metals and human skin, sank to his knees, shivering in realization and horror…and a slowly building hatred. The alien clenched his wiry fists, crushing shards of his instrument until they cut into his alabaster flesh, and dark blood oozed down the contours of his skin. A myriad of hateful thoughts tore through him, a long-dormant hatred unleashed upon his sight.
The alien slowly stood, glaring furiously at the spot where the Warp Goddess stood, his thin lips pressed so tightly together that they drained of blood. A single word drifted through, his voice strained with spite and rage.<br>
“…bitch…”<br>
With a *crack*, a slender black line appeared behind him, and he jumped back through it, teleporting to – and THROUGH – the Webway gate from which he had slipped, unseen, moments before Isha had. In moments, he stood in the middle of the bustling port of Commorragh, his home, and the most depraved realm in all of the galaxy. He slipped between towering spires of dark metal into a tiny Webway gate, emerging instantly in the courts of one of the towers high above. All around him echoed the sounds and psychic emanations of the tortured slaves he had brought with him on previous trips into the real universe, and as much as he would have liked to indulge in them under any other circumstance, he no longer had the time.

He halted before a hovering symbol in the middle of the room, which he thrust his bloodied hand into with distaste. Within moments, a cruel visage shimmered into being above the symbol glowering at him. “What the hell do you want, Kor-rk?” the hologram spit. “I was in the middle of something.”<br>
“Your forgiveness, Overlord. I come with most terrible news,” the alien said, bowing obsequiously. “I have returned from the Exodite world of Menhsamesh-”<br>
“Which is indeed terrible, for you, should you interrupt my ministrations for such trivialities again,” the hologram snapped, reaching for some unseen controls.<br>
“-which is currently playing host to a very important guest,” Kor-rk finished. The hologram paused to glare.<br>
“And whom, if I may ask, are they hosting?”<br>
“Lady Isha.” The room nearly fell silent as the giggling torturers around its exterior halted to stare. A few slaves made a break for the exit, and were swiftly cut down. As their pitiful screams ended, the holographic man stared, his mouth tightening.<br>
“And you can confirm this?” he asked.<br>
“I can.”<br>
“Then do so,” the holograph said, his truculence vanishing, replaced by something far more unnerving: calm, absolute loathing. “I shall…prepare.” After a moment of contemplative silence, the holographic man stretched his leathery arm towards the unseen controls, and paused again. He glanced at the monitor, his pitiless eyes searching. “You did well to bring this to me. Bring it to no other.” The holograph died.
And in a far-off tower, Asdrubael Vect sat back in his chair, and clenched a fist.


----


The Emperor sighed internally as the prostrate Imperial Guard commanders arrayed before him offered endless variations of “I’m really, really sorry,” to him, with several openly weeping in shame or fear. “GUYS, REALLY, KNOCK IT OFF. I CAN’T HAVE SOLDIERS THAT FALL TO THEIR KNEES EVERY TIME I STOP BY.”<br>
“Nor can you have soldiers who call in nuclear strikes on you, my Lord God,” one young officer wept.<br>
“FOR FUCK’S SAKE, COLONEL, ENOUGH APOLOGIZING. AM I GOING TO HAVE TO GO OUT THERE AND SEE WHAT THE BATTLEFIELD LOOKS LIKE IN PERSON, OR ARE YOU GOING TO DO AS YOU’RE TOLD AND SHOW ME YOUR MAPS?”<br>
The Guard officers nearly fell over themselves to show the Emperor their holographic maps of the field, eagerly and obsequiously noting every detail. The Emperor, who had designed the system, largely ignored them, instead drinking in the details of the battle for himself. He paused, however, upon noting a solid return on the radar map that had not been there before.<br>
“HEY, IS THAT THING DRAWING POWER?” he asked, indicating the hard return with a massive claw.<br>
“No, my Lord God. In fact, it’s completely inert,” the techpriest at the controls replied.<br>
“THEN WHAT IS IT?”<br>
“A glitch, in all likelihood,” the priest said. “It’s not there. Flybys reveal there to be nothing there.”<br>
“HOW OLD IS THIS RADAR MAP?” the Emperor asked.<br>
“One hour, seven minutes, fifteen point two seconds old,” the priest said. “Our radar systems were knocked offline by the shockwave of the detonating Deathstrike missile.”<br>
“GET THEM BACK ONLINE AND RE-SCAN THAT SPOT AGAIN,” the Emperor instructed. “I THINK I KNOW WHAT THAT IS.”

“May I ask, Omnissiah, what it is?” the priest asked carefully.<br>
“I THINK IT MAY BE A WEBWAY GATE. THEY DON’T SHOW UP ON RADAR MAPS UNLESS THEY’RE ACTIVELY DOING SOMETHING, LIKE TRANSPORTING SOMEBODY IN AND OUT OF THE WEBWAY.”<br>
“Eldar? Here? Fantastic,” the priest groused.<br>
“WELL, WE MAY BE AT PEACE WITH THEM NOW, BUT I CAN’T SEE THEM COMING HERE FOR OUR BENEFIT, THAT’S FOR SURE.” The Emperor peered at the map, noting where the object lay. “ALL RIGHT, YOU KNOW NOW THAT GENERAL LOKRIS’ FLEET IS EN ROUTE WITH SALAMANDER BACKUP, AND I’LL BE HELPING YOU HERE UNTIL THEY ARRIVE, BUT BEFORE I HEAD OUT TO THE FRONT TO ASSIST YOUR MEN, I WANT TO GO SEE WHAT’S GOING ON THERE.”<br>
“As you so desire, my Lord God,” the overawed Guard colonel said. “How may we assist?”<br>
“A DIVERSION. THOSE MANTICORES RELOADED YET?”<br>
“They have indeed, my Lord God. Where shall we target them?”<br>
“ON THE GROUP OF TYRANIDS CLOSEST TO THE GATE, IF THAT’S WHAT IT IS. I’LL TELEPORT IN AND EXAMINE IT WHILE YOU’RE DOING THAT.” As soon as the colonel relayed the orders and the hailstorm of missiles slammed into the herd of Tyranids at the designated the coordinates, the Emperor suited actions to words, teleporting to within a few hundred feet of the sensor contact and examining it closely.

“…HMM. NO VISIBLE MARKS HERE, BUT…” he said under his breath, glancing around. “BOY, THIS SPOT RIGHT HERE SURE IS PERFECT FOR A WEAPONS TESTING FACILITY! THERE’S CLEARLY NOTHING OF ANY STRATEGIC VALUE HERE, NO SIR! JUST A BIG OPEN STRETCH OF ROCK I CAN HAVE BULLDOZED WITH NO CONSEQUENCES! HEY COLONEL, GO AHEAD AND START THAT BARRAGE NOW!” he yelled into the air, speaking to nobody in particular. Right on cue, a few of the Manticore missiles detonated a few klicks away, casting a red pall over the tableau.<br>
For several seconds, nothing seemed to happen at all. Just when the Emperor thought that his little experiment would bear no fruit, however, a Dark Eldar raider vessel shot out of nowhere to skim past him, its crew desperately firing splinter weapons at his daemonic body. The Emperor watched with interest as the vessel vanished into thin air with a shower of sparks, right where the radar map had said the Gate was concealed.
“I CAN’T BELIEVE THAT WORKED,” the Emperor said to himself, filing the incident away for further scheming. He turned from the scene to rejoin the battle, already pondering what use he could make of this newfound knowledge.