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

==4-007-001-M42==
Farseer Sen’tiar of the Lugganath massaged his temples wearily. They had been in conference with the…thing that had emerged from their gates for nearly an hour, and the psychic pressure of being roared at by the most potent entity in the galaxy was getting to him. “So…you truly didn’t have a choice, then? You saw your true death as inevitable, and merged with this warp beast to escape death?”

“HELL NO, I WOULD HAVE RETURNED AS MY OLD SELF, IN A NEW HUMAN BODY, BUT CAN YOU IMAGINE WHAT WOULD HAVE HAPPENED? NINE MONTHS I’D BE CARRIED BY A HUMAN WOMAN, UNABLE TO DIRECT THE LIGHT OF THE ASTRONOMICAN. PURE ANARCHY. EARTH WOULD STARVE, EVERY FORGE WORLD WOULD REBEL, AND YOU CAN BET YOUR ASS YOUR DARK COUSINS WOULD HAVE CARTED OFF HALF THE IMPERIUM FOR USE AS SLAVES,” the Emperor-critter roared derisively. “CAN’T HAVE THAT.” Macha stared.

“This seems a bit…drastic, though, doesn’t it? It’s not becoming.”

“TELL ME SOMETHING I DON’T BLOODY KNOW,” the Emperor said. “I CAN’T EVEN CONTROL HOW LOUD THIS THING IS.”

“We noticed,” Taldeer muttered. Louder, she added “The fact that you are under the false impression that Fathe…Farseer Eldrad owes you a personal favor is rather more distressing, frankly. He said nothing of that.”

“IT’S NOTHING PERSONAL, ACTUALLY,” the colossal orange being replied, “BUT HE SAVED THE LIVES OF FOUR ENTIRE IMPERIAL SECTOR, RAPID REACTION, AND SEGMENTUM FLEETS A FEW YEARS BACK, AND I REPAY MY FAVORS. ALSO, EVEN THOUGH IT TOTALLY WASN’T MY FAULT, I KINDA FEEL BAD ABOUT WHAT FULGRIM DID TO HIM.”
“But…that would be you owing HIM a favor,” Macha replied, totally nonplussed.

“RIGHT. AND THEN, LESS THAN TWO WHOLE WEEKS AGO, I SAVED HIS ASS FROM BEING EATEN ALIVE BY SLAANESH. TWICE. SO NOW HE OWES ME ONE. WE AGREED ON THIS,” the Emperor roared back.

Taldeer and Macha looked at each other, stunned into silence. How could that have even been?

It was LIIVI, of all people, who found his voice first. “My Lord God, how do you mean?”

The Emperor glared down at the Vindicare with what was probably a mildly irritated expression on his massive, scaly face. “FIRST OF ALL, THAT’S BETWEEN ME AND HIS DAUGHTERS, AND SECOND, WHY IS ONE OF MY ASSASSINS ON ULTHWE IF IT ISN’T FOR STRATEGIC TARGET REMOVAL?”

LIIVI bowed his head respectfully, trying very, very hard not to let his knees turn to jelly. “It is a phenomenally complicated story, my Lord God, but rest assured that this is probably where I belong,” he said, even his Vindicare training failing to keep his emotions from welling up.

The Emperor was silent for a few seconds, then shrugged his orange shoulders. “EH. I’LL TAKE YOUR WORD FOR IT. I HAVE MORE URGENT TASKS TO ATTEND TO THAN KILLING YOU FOR DESERTION.”

“Those being?” Taldeer asked curtly, trying to change the subject. Macha grinned at her knowingly.

“CASHING IN A FAVOR, REMEMBER?” the Emperor sighed. “I WANT YOU TO RESTORE MY SON HERE TO FULL HEALTH. MY OWN POWER DOES NOT EXTEND TO THIS, BUT YOUR TECHNOLOGY AND WARP-BENDING MIGHT.”

“Er, about that,” Farseer Yriic Blueflame of Yme-Loc spoke up. “Why us? And for that matter, why should we believe you when you say Eldrad owes you a favor?”

For a few long, terrible, gut-churning seconds, the bestial God-Emperor stared at the Farseer, until finally he made a noise that was probably a sigh of frustration. “FINE. FUCK. I’LL GO GET HIM AND SHOW YOU. YOU’LL OWE ME TWO NOW, THOUGH.” And with a crack of displaced air and purple flash of light he was gone, with a final comment of “TAKE CARE OF MY PAPERWEIGHT SON HERE, I’LL BE BACK SOON ENOUGH.”