Editing Bleeding Out: A Custodian's Story (Warhammer High) (section)

=== Shots Fired ===

Everything happened at once. The air was filled with a shrill yelping as the alert sounded and red warning lights flickered into life. Automatic instincts fired up immediately and in that instant Quadriga was on his feet, Paragon Spear in hand. Skuratova was only a split second behind him.

“What the hell is that?” She yelled, already moving for the door. Quadriga was outside in a flash, heading for the Joint Operations Centre, the nerve centre of all Treasury operations.

He burst through the doors within 20 seconds, nearly tearing them off their hinges despite them being made of reinforced iron. Inside everyone was scrambling and yelling and the sirens were blaring and a hundred alerts were sounding all at once, a cacophony of sound and noise that would have overwhelmed almost anyone. But Quadriga was beyond all that, and in an instant gazing at the dozens of screens and taking in the fragments of information displayed upon them he knew everything. And what he knew filled him with grim foreboding.

Skuratova appeared beside him. “What is going on?” She asked.

“Shooting in Startseite. Subject XIV has been hit.” Quadriga’s voice was clipped and tense, but he could not hide the thunder in his words. “Evac has been called, rapid response teams are already en-route.”

Skuratova stood there like she had been shot herself. “Throne…” she whispered.

Quadriga bent down to eye level with her. “Director, this is your moment. This is what we have been preparing for. We hoped this day would never come, but here it is. I need to get there and assess the situation in person. You need to take control here. Keep me updated.”

She nodded, and in that second her iron will reasserted itself. She strode into the room, orders already forming on her lips. Quadriga felt the corner of his lips twitch in what could almost have been a smile. She had been chosen well. Most other mortals would have taken far longer to reassert themselves.

Quadriga turned and in less than a minute was already on his Jetbike, speeding back to the nearest Custodian Guard Station and the Teleport Transponder that would get him to Startseite. It was still a ten-minute flight to get there.

He turned on his vox, and turned it to an encoded channel that he had never needed to use before. 

“Mors est tantum in finem Officium.” He spoke into the channel. A few seconds later a voice responded.

“Report, Quadriga.”

“Captain-General, Code Red Seven has been sounded. Subject XIV has been hit.”

“The Rapid Response Sodality is already at the scene.” Valdor replied. “The Subjects are being gathered as we speak. They will be taken to the Palace. All units are being deployed into security positions.”

“And the shooter?”

“Sweep teams are already on the case. You can join with them when you get there.”

“And the Emperor?”

“I am with him now. He is secure. We are already moving to the inner sanctum.”

Aurox could have breathed a sigh of relief. “I will be on-site within ten minutes. I will take command and hold position until relieved.”

“Good. Keep me informed of any developments.” The line cut out.

The Custodian Guards maintained multiple stations throughout the Palace. Not all were manned at the same time, but they were ideal positions from which to defend various areas and rearm and equip if needed. And more importantly for Quadriga, each had a teleport station for rapid deployment.

There were five Custodians currently deployed here, and all were already at battle positions.

“I need the Teleporter.” Quadriga ordered as he dismounted from his jetbike.

“Startseite?” The Custodian asked.

“Aye. And quickly. The Captain-General requires my presence there immediately.”

He was already moving into the armoured bastion, and before they could even spool it up he was in the Teleportarium.

It took nearly a minute for his fellow Custodian to power it up and generate a locus, but then there was a harsh crackling of energy, and the world was consumed by a curtain of writhing static.

A second later, the world vanished. There was brief feeling of emptiness, like Quadriga was falling down a bottomless chasm. And then the feeling vanished, solid earth was once more beneath his feet and there was air again.

He had been teleported true, standing in the streets of Startseite just a short way down the road from the cordon. He could see the plascrete crash barriers hastily dragged into place, the Beehive Security guards swarming like their ancient namesakes and the hulking forms of Aquilon Terminators, his brothers who had been teleported in to secure the sight. He was on the move immediately.

“Auric.” The nearest Aquilon called to him when he got close enough.

“Mortalis.” Quadriga replied.

The Aquilon lowered his Adrathic destructor and waved Quadriga forward.

“Situation?” Quadriga asked.

“The Subjects have both been evacuated. Subject XIV was alive but in critical condition. Subject VIII was in shock and extreme emotional distress.”

“And the others?”

“All of the other Subjects have been recovered or are in the process of being recovered.” 

“Who is chief Treasury officer here?”
 
The Aquilon gestured with his claw at a man with a non-standard longsword at his hip talking with several other treasury guards.

Without another word Quadriga marched over to him. The man’s blue eyes widened as he beheld the Custodian towering over him.

“Aurox Quadriga, Secutarii-Filias. As of now, field command is mine.”

The man gulped and nodded, clearly intimidated. Quadriga knew that he must be under a lot of pressure, and mindful of his earlier episode with Skuratova resolved to try and be more understanding.

“What is your name, Treasury officer?” Quadriga asked.

“Major Axiopolis sir.”

“Boeotia?”

“Yes sir.”

“A stubborn lot, the Boeotians.” Quadriga remarked. “We need that stubbornness now. Give me a sitrep.”

“Both the Daughters were teleported out within seconds of the shot. They’re in a safe and secure place in the lower ward of the Palace. Verispex are examining the scene as we speak.” He gestured at the men and women in Arbite uniforms scouring over every inch of the café.

“And the shooter?”

“Already apprehended.” Quadriga could not completely hide his reaction, the split-second of disappointment that he would not get the chance to deal with the perpetrator himself. “He was in that building.” Axiopolis quickly pointed to a window overlooking the café. “He gave up willingly, did not try to fight or take his own life. He has been taken to the Khangba Marwu.”

“He’ll regret not ending his miserable existence swiftly enough.” Quadriga growled. The interrogators of the Khangba Marwu were the most skilled outside the vicious torturers of the debased cabals of the Eldar.

Axiopolis nodded in agreement. “At this point, our job is to hold the site while anything that can be used as evidence is gathered.”

“Where is Field Sergeant Carver?”

“She’s over there.” Axiopolis pointed to a Beehive guard with short dark hair and a pale face sitting half-slumped in a chair. “She’s taking it pretty hard. You know what happens to those who are on personal duty for long periods.”

“Let me handle this.” Quadriga nodded to Axiopolis and walked over to Carver.

Quadriga had never served in the Sagittarum Guard, but he had been taught their ability to recognise faces from miles away. And in his years of standing vigil, he had taken it upon himself to know all those who he would have to serve with. Every last soldier in the Treasury was known to him, all he could identify in an instant.

Marchenka Carver hailed from the mighty arms-hive of Vantovka in Ursh. In such an environment it was no surprise she was an expert marksman, winning the Treasury sharpshooting award three years running. Quadriga remembered clearly that during her first few years she had been routinely deployed for sniper duties, though her clear skill beyond the mere handling of firearms had seen her promoted to closer detail. She was one of the agents who had managed to endure extended and long-term personal detail in close proximity with the Subjects without succumbing to the so-called ‘Lazio syndrome’, that unforeseen complication that the late Aralde Lazio had brought to the fore. She was ranked in the foremost members of the Treasury along with Clay Witold and Gisemba Apeloko and Skuratova had already marked her for promotion, for greater things. Quadriga knew well enough that this disaster would kill her momentum cold. Her rise within the Treasury would now be dead in the water, and all the blame would be laid at her feet. A fate she did not deserve.

“Field Sergeant Carver?”

She looked up at him, her eyes haggard and weary. She looked like she had aged years in only a few hours. Still she pulled herself to her feet and gave him a salute.

“Honoured Custodian.”

“At ease. You may sit.”

Carver sank back into the chair. She had shared the same fiery spirit that seemed innate to all those born of Ursh, but now it was like the fire in her had been snuffed out, leaving only gleaming embers.

“You have already made a full report to Axiopolis, correct?”

Carver gave a shallow nod.

“I wish for you to make the same report to me. I want to know everything you can tell me.”

Again she nodded. “Routine. Everything was routine. The perimeter had been set and checked twice over. We had made sure there would be nothing within five hundred yards of Mort…of the principal.” Her voice had wavered like a broken record for a second. “It came out of nowhere. We didn’t even hear the shot, just the sound of the round striking home.” Her voice grew steadier and more bitter with every passing word. “The teams were scrambled at once. We got the principals out and locked down the area. All the witnesses were rounded up and have been transported to the palace to have statements taken and psi-screening done in case.”

“You followed protocol to the letter.” Quadriga said. “You did well there. However you did less well in not making checks for longer-ranged weapons before setting up the perimeter.”

Carver shot him a glare. “We have never had to worry about heavy-calibre sniper weapons. There’s screening systems in place preventing them being brought into Startseite. And even our snipers failed to detect the shooter before it was too late. He was well concealed, beyond our snoopers ability to detect him.”

“Screening systems and snooping systems that failed, as it turns out.” Quadriga replied bluntly. “You’re one of our best snipers, you of all people should have known the danger of a long-ranged weapon beyond the perimeter.”

“Could you have done better?” Carver snapped at him.

Without a shadow of a doubt Quadriga answered, “Yes.”

“Oh really?” an undercurrent of venom filled Carver’s voice. “I know a Custodian is beyond even a Space Marine in power, but I doubt even you could intercept a bullet moving three times the speed of sound from a kilometre away.”

“If my brothers were in charge here, there would never have been a sniper within a kilometre or even five kilometres. We have dozens of lifetimes worth to merely learn our craft, let alone hone it.”

“Well, excuse me for not being on the same level as a Custodian.” Carver spat. “Excuse me for not having two hearts, four lungs or whatever else is inside that body of yours. I am merely human, and I did everything a mere human could do to prevent this.” She cursed audibly. “Nothing you say will hurt as much as what I know is being said even now. All the blame, all the recriminations, all of it will be laid on my head.” She held her head in her hands. “If she…if she doesn’t make it, then I’ll have to live with that, if I even live long enough. Maybe that damned sniper should have finished me as well.”

“Are you certain?” Quadriga asked her.

“What?” her head tilted to face him, her eyes wide.

Quadriga drew his Misericorda. “If you wish it, I can give you that end. I can ensure that you will not have to face hostile politicians or a hostile public. I can give you peace.”

“What? No!” Carver stumbled back. “I didn’t mean it that literally dammit!”

“As you wish.” Quadriga sheathed his Misericorda.

Carver shook her head wildly. “You Custodians are way too literal.”

“Better to be literal than to hide your words behind falsehoods.” Quadriga answered. “And they will spin falsehoods about you and your conduct today. That’s why I need to know, so that Skuratova can work out the best way to shield you from what is to come.”

“Skuratova would be better off dismissing me.” Carver’s voice was soft and sour once again. “I am a liability to the Treasury now. Why waste time trying to defend me?”

Quadriga did not hesitate or pause. “Because Skuratova can see herself in you. Because you are a professional who did their best, even when it turned out that was just not enough. Because you are respected throughout the Treasury. Because they take care of their own, no matter what.”

He rested a single finger from his gauntlet on her shoulder.

“There are things no-one can forsee. We all planned in case this day would happen, and from what I’ve been told and what you’ve just told me, your conduct in the crisis was exemplary.”

“But you just said…”

“There are many reasons the Emperor placed the security of the Subjects in your hands, and not those of mine and my ilk. There are things your kind can do that we, for all our prowess, cannot.”

She blinked, clearly confused. Quadriga pressed on. “You will not be made into a sacrifice because you were the one on duty, any more than we would sacrifice Witold if it had been Subject XVI and not XIV under the bullet. Loyalty is one of the strongest currencies in this universe, and the Treasury is loyal to its own.”

For the first time Quadriga could see a spark of something in Carver’s eyes. The dismal failure was still there. But the smallest spark of hope had been added. It was time to fan that spark into a flame.

“You have nothing to worry about. If Subject XIV fails to make it, then we will burn that bridge as we come to it. I have long had plans in case a Subject should fall under our watch.”

“You’ve planned for a Daughter’s death?” Carver exclaimed.

Quadriga’s reply was blunt and direct. “Yes.” He said. “Just as I know the Emperor and the Captain-General had plans in case a Primarch should die fighting the Crusade. We plan for everything. It’s what we do as Custodians. Most of the Treasury’s emergency protocols were written by myself in cooperation with Skuratova.”

“We have plans already in place for what will come next. Trust that Skuratova will do all she can for your sakes, and the sakes of those under you. The public, the Council of Terra, the politicians, all of them we have accounted for. You will not be left to their mercy.”

Quadriga turned and gestured to a nearby Valkyrie with his spear. “As commanding officer here, I hereby dismiss you. Go home. Get some rest. Know that whatever happens next, you did all you could. Maybe if my brothers and I were here we could have prevented this, perhaps not. Either way, you were here, and you did all you could. There is honour in that.”

“Honoured Custodian.” Carver threw him another, more sharp salute and strode over to the others to call for a transport. Quadriga watched her go for a second, and then turned back to the tasks at hand. Her day might be over, but his was only just beginning.