Epilog: Harbingers of Change

It was unusually quiet in the streets of Siyodha. The people were afraid, and huddled around their tables with friends and family, discussing what had happened and what would happen now. And the ones that were outside went about their business with low voices and furtive glances.

An exception was, of course, the central plaza. The fires had finally been put out, and now the Administratum was busy with the cleanup: clearing away the debris, and looking for survivors – and bodies. It is to their credit that the workers only paused for a moment, when the giant video screen on the side of the plaza, covered in a thick layer of soot, dust and ash, came to life, showing the stern face of Raj Sulemnar on the GEB.

"Citizens of Mahamat," she began.

"You have all heard and seen the bulletin issued by Unjul Rahebat, the former Master of Ceremony. Know that it was a falsehood, a construct of vile lies aiming to twist the truth in favor of Rahebat's own agenda."

"The heinous attacks were indeed carried out by offworld elements; elements, whom Lord Rahebat aided and with whom he collaborated to bring our great society to ruin."

"But the worst revelation was that these attackers were indeed not part of a faction outside the Imperium; neither xenos nor outlaws were responsible for these unlawful action. No, the perpetrators are part of the Imperium, and of its highest echelons."

"My fellow citizens, as I am speaking to you, the Imperium is tearing itself apart. It is under siege from within, by a large faction of traitors seeking to overthrow the government of our most holy Emperor; and it is these traitors who attacked us so cowardly. They have acted against the will of the Emperor, and in reaction to this, the Adeptus Astartes has arrived to aid us."

The view panned the right, and Sabato and a handful other Astartes came into view, looking grimly into the camera; then, it cut back.

"We must thank the Emperor for their timely arrival, as our own military has been severely crippled by the attacks."

At this point, a different picture appeared: a scorched landscape, strewn with the burned and twisted husks of Imperial Guard vehicles. The camera panned to the floor, revealing the charred remains of a human, almost completely swallowed by the black slag; but their facial structure and teeth were clearly recognizable.

"Only one contingent of soldiers remains, and it is currently marching against the palace. These soldiers have left their Emperor-given duty and have joined with Rahebat and his conspirators. They, too, are traitors and will meet with the Emperor's justice."

"In light of these developments, we have seen no other choice but to call for help from groups outside the traitor's influence, and they have answered our call and are on their way to lend their assistance."

"This is a temporary measure, and while the Emperor sets his unflinching eye on the cancer that threatens the Imperium, we as well must do our part."

"Therefore, I ask two things of you: denounce Rahebat, whose betrayal has hit us the most, as he was part of our inner circle and enjoyed our utter confidence."

"And second: have faith; in us, and above all, in the Emperor. This is our greatest crisis, but with faith and unity we will overcome it. The Emperor protects."

Tens of thousands of screens went to standby.

Back in the palace, the Rajai had followed the transmission as well.

Myridna frowned. She hated herself in this moment, as she had condemned both Rahebat and general Yisadhi. She was holding her husband's hand, and when the video was over, she turned towards him, sighing. "Is this the right thing to do?"

Agipor gave her hand a comforting squeeze, looking serious. "What is the alternative? See our family destroyed, our legacy? No, this was the only option."

"I hope you're right."

She remembered talking to Errake about the Video. I'm not sure this will convince them, she had said.

It doesn't have to convince them, the warlord had answered. It only needs to sow doubt; doubt about who is saying the truth, and whom to trust. Trying to figure this out will keep them occupied, and quiet, for the moment.

Then she thought about Pranher, her eldest son, who was with general Yisadhi and would soon face the renegade Astartes in battle. She had talked with Errake about him, too, begging him to spare his life.

When I meet him, he'll be an enemy soldier, nothing more. His only chance will be to surrender.

She had recorded a message for her son then, and had asked Errake to to play it over the battlefield, urging Pranher to lay down his weapons. Errake had promised her that much, at least.

And so it came to be that when Errake and his band assaulted the advancing soldiers, the voice of a worrying mother mixed with gunfire, explosions and the screams of men. But the young man at whom the message was aimed could not be swayed; he was bound by loyalty to his commander and his comrades, and died with them.

Unjul Rahebat was sitting in a dark room in Siyodha's town hall, plagued by thoughts like black, heavy clouds. He had of course seen Myridna's answer to his message, and had to admit, that while she was the actual traitor, she also had more to back her claims up. He had given a speech to his guards and servants then, trying to convince them of his honest intentions; but he had seen the doubt on their faces. He was now trying to come up with a new message, but his mind was in commotion.

The sound of the door opening made him turn; he couldn't see the arrival clearly before the background of the brightly lit corridor.

"Yes, what is it? Pala?" he asked. No, Not tall enough.

"Put your hands where I can see them. No funny business, I can see you perfectly."

"Wha-… Aeren?"

"Yes. Don't make this harder than it has to be. You're coming with me, one way or the other."

The former Master of Ceremony rose slowly. "Where are my guards? Where is Pala?"

"I could convince most of them to walk away. They didn't want to protect a traitor after all. As for Pala… I'm guessing he's the one that stood before your door? Don't trip over him."

Rahebat's blood ran cold, and a sick feeling spread through his innards.

"What do your associates want from me?"

"I have no idea. But, as I was told to bring you alive, I assume there is some use for you still."

There was a new voice, coming from behind Aeren. "We've found the children."

"Good. That clears our second task. Lord Rahebat, if you please?"

The Space Marines returned to the palace, blood on their armor and in a relaxed mood. None of them had fallen; the soldiers of the Imperial Guard, having not seen actual combat in years, had performed less than stellar.

Aeren had been back quite a bit earlier. He had put Rahebat into a locked room, and reunited the Rajai with their two youngest children, Anjika and Suthi. It was odd to see Myridna, whom he had come to know as stern and contemptuous, display motherly affection.

This high was of course cut short with the arrival of Errake, who told them in his usual, apathetic way that their oldest son was dead. Where their oldest daughter Shanti was, nobody could say.

Later, the Regents were summoned to the banquet hall. At the far end, a throne of black stone had been placed. Errake sat there, and to either side stood many of his men, as well as some of the other Astartes. Only the lamps behind the Assembly were lit, and they had been set to a dim red twilight; in the front only a few small braziers cast their flickering light. Through this, the place had been filled with an ominous atmosphere, fire dancing in the eyes of the people. Errake himself, clad in his black armor that seemed to swallow what little light touched it, could barely be seen at all, a massive and shadowy centerpiece.

Before them all, alone and crestfallen, knelt Rahebat. He wore only plain pants and a sleeveless undershirt. He had been gagged, and his hands were bound on his back. Some dried blood on his temple showed that he had been treated roughly, and his look was distant. Myridna didn't like any of it.

"Here is the dissenter," Errake began, addressing the arrivals. His voice boomed through the cavernous space, amplified by his voxcaster. "It is time for his punishment."

The raj walked around the kneeling man, careful not to let her unrest show, and positioned herself between him and the dark throne.

"It is unnecessary to punish him," she said. "He only did what he deemed right. He is a prisoner now, and no longer a threat to you."

"You are right, in a way," the terrible voice droned. "His life is of no concern to me. His death, however, will fulfill a purpose."

"What purpose?"

"It will send a message to the other noble houses; I want them to know it will be much more convenient for them to work with us, instead of against."

Myridna bowed her head, forcing herself into humility once more. "My lord, mercy will be a much more powerful message. I ask you to spare his life."

"Oh, but I am not going to kill him. You are."

She looked up; her face was blank. "What are you saying?"

"It's easy. You killing him will prove to me, and the other houses, where your loyalties lie. Until now I haven't really challenged you; consider it a test of your determination."

The raj said nothing. Only her jaw was working angrily.

Errake flicked a knife in her direction; it came to rest at her feet.

Myridna looked at it, than back to Errake. Her eyes were wide with shock and outrage. "You cannot be serious."

"I am absolutely serious. You will bring me his head. The both of you."

"My lord, this man will be a valuable asset-"

Errake raised a hand, halting her. "Don't. Waste. My time. This is not up for debate. You and your husband will kill this man and cut off his head. Or perhaps you would like to rescind our arrangement?"

He gestured; on either side, many guns were readied.

"Make your choice. Kill him now, or die with him."

Myridna stood there for a moment, gnashing her teeth. Then, she lowered herself, slowly, and picked the knife up. It was a brutish thing, with a heavy, serrated blade. She looked at it with disgust. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see a camera trained on her.

Slowly, she turned around. Only then did she see the blood pooling around Rahebats ankles; his sinews had been cut. She took a step, came to stand behind him. Her husband approached them as well. "Give me the knife, my love. I will do it."

She nodded thankfully and handed the blade over. In this moment, Rahebat woke from his stupor. Realizing what was happening, he began to scream through his gag, and tried to squirm away; but Myridna gripped him and held him in place.

Agipor raised the knife high above his head. "Forgive me, old friend," he muttered. Rahebat was still screaming and struggling. The knife came down.

The kill was fairly quick. Agipor had apparently struck a vital area, and Rahebat went limp after a few seconds of tensing and trembling. The beheading though was a long and messy process, and both Agipor and Myridna cried and retched all the way through, while the observers cheered and whooped. It took them almost ten minutes before they had finally severed muscles, sinews and spine. When they were done, they were both covered in blood head to toe. Together they picked up the head, removed the gag and closed Rahebat's eyes. Cradling it in front of her breast like a child, Myridna turned around and looked at Errake.

The dark figure nodded. "Bring it here." He gestured again. Someone standing next to the throne stepped forward, carrying a large silver platter.

Bereft of all strength, she put the head on the polished surface, gently stroking the black hair. "What a shameful display."

"It, too, serves a purpose. I have no more need of you for the moment; you may retreat."

And so the regents left, tightly clinging to each other, stripped of both pride and dignity.

Aeren had watched the grisly proceedings, strangely calm. Maybe it was because he had seen so much bloodshed recently, not least of all the instances he had committed himself. Maybe his capacity for horror was finally exhausted. But when he thought about it, this hadn't been too terrible really: Rahebat's death had been as quick and clean as the circumstances had allowed for, and everything after that had just been cutting dead meat. He smiled at the rajais' strong reaction; they clearly weren't used to this kind of thing. Unlike myself, he thought. And that realization did disturb him, albeit just a little.

After that, it didn't take long for the other high houses to come and pay their respects to Errake. They had all seen the video of the beheading, and the message that had accompanied it. What Errake demanded, while unpleasant, wasn't too unreasonable, considering he was now the de facto ruler of Mahamat. And, having seen the alternative, the nobles had decided to play along for the time being, and see what arrangements could be worked out. Not all of them, of course: one Lord Muriyah, the most pious of them all, had opted to kill himself and his entire family instead; but not before poisoning all of his servants.

And so it came to be that the heads of the noble houses assembled in the great hall a few shifts later. Rahebat's decomposing head had been placed on a pedestal to the side, and the smell of rotting flesh mingled with heavy incense to form a rather disturbing vapor; a grim reminder of the price of opposition.

They brought presents and in turn knelt before the black throne. Errake, sitting there in full armor like a statue, acknowledged them with few words and fewer gestures; and they, too, saw that he was an utter stranger, not only through his place of birth, but by the very nature of his being. And they came to realize their old ways would not survive the coming days unchanged and unchallenged.

Out in the galaxy, the wheels of fate keep spinning as well. Although the Imperials don't know it yet, the dawn of the thirteenth Black Crusade is approaching quickly; and soon, billions of mortals will be thrust into its maw, pieces in a game played by titans and gods. Among them, an odd pair: a young boy and his ancient master. Only time will tell if either have the strength and luck to make it through, or if they will be consumed.

~ Fin ~

A/N: Well. So much for this story. I took forever to finish this, but the last weeks have been utterly exhausting for me. But I knew I what I wanted to do with this epilog, and I did it. This is once again a chapter I'm not sure I like. In retrospect, I'm also not sure that it was a good choice to move the focus away from Aeren a little, and towards the scheme to conquer Mahamat. Ah well, it's done. Can't say that I feel much satisfaction right now, or anything really, but perhaps that will come later.

So what's next? As I said in previous notes, it was my plan to do a german translation, and a sequel after that. That is still my plan, however I have to take care of some other stuff first and I'm not sure how long that will take.

As this is the end of the story, I will update this chapter to answer to any reviews you fine people decide to do.

Let me thank all of you who stayed with me until now, and of course especially my reviewers; you guys gave me the motivation to finish this.

Speaking of reviews...

PolarDawn: Glad you still enjoy my yarn : ) When the sequel happens, you guys will learn a lot more about Errake's backstory.

Akularz-Shati: Thanks for the kind words : ) Concerning Aeren's age, drSpliff brought this up as well, way back. I can see where you're coming from, but A) This is the Imperium, and I'm sure there are plenty of child soldiers around. B) Aeren has to be this young in order to allow for the Astartes transformation.
As for the structure, I hope the later chapters are better in this regard ^^; Yup, you are right regarding the Primarchs beginning with a capital letter, I'll make sure to watch out for it in the future. I'm not going to combine the first chapters though, as they are, in a way, a testament to my development as a writer, and I want to be able to look back and see this stuff in the raw, so to speak.

Notthisguy: Thanks for the review! And I can't wait to write more ;)!

John Spangler: Much appreciated : ) I try my best. The sequel will take some time, as I am currently still busy with the translation, but I'm pretty sure it's coming.

el mano: Thanks for the review! The Translation is coming along nicely, and I am eager to write some new stuff! Won't be long now...

Just a Guy: Thanks man, much appreciated : ) I also don't know what I could do to make the story more accessible... sorry.

Meatzman2: Glad you liked it :)

Thanks for reading, and I hope to see you all soon!