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POV of PDF COMMANDER
"Lord Governor, by the magnanimity of our august Lord, the God-Emperor Himself, we have been blessed with an exceptional harvest…" I said, bowing my head, while dozens of courtiers watched me over the rims of their goblets overflowing with costly liqueurs. Music filled the great hall, and the nobles danced with that hollow joy only they could display during the Harvest Celebration.
"I am aware, Deonaris… indeed, I am." The governor spoke in his usual manner, so steeped in arrogance it made my blood simmer. "Since the glorious day upon which I resolved to end that farcical display of weakness before the rabble of the lower levels, the God-Emperor has shown His benevolence toward my lineage. He has granted us richer lands and more bountiful yields."
"I wished to inquire humbly, my lord governor, whether it would be feasible to employ the profits of this harvest to update the Planetary Defence arsenal, for—" I began, but I was cut off before finishing.
"Again with your dreary lamentations over military gear? What peculiar obsession drives you to arm yourself to the teeth merely to contain those filthy peasants?" the governor's daughter remarked, hiding her face behind a fan encrusted with gems. The cosmetics around her eyes likely cost more than my yearly pay.
"Due to… the governor's recent reforms… many citizens have grown discontent," I attempted to explain.
"And what of it? Since the God-Emperor ascended His Golden Throne, the plebeians exist to serve us. Their discontent is irrelevant," added one of the governor's flatterers, swirling his goblet before breaking into raucous laughter.
"A significant portion of our equipment is antiquated, and I lack the personnel to patrol all levels of the hive, let alone the surrounding farmlands. There are cells of bandits who—" I tried to speak faster, hoping to avoid another interruption, to no avail.
"Then deal with those unruly peasants. What threat can a handful of wretches armed with sticks and spades possibly represent? It would seem the post of commander exceeds your abilities, Deonaris. And now, cease spoiling my festivities; the wine is beginning to sour." He dismissed me with a lazy flick of his hand.
"But I have neither the men nor the equipment—"
"Deonaris."The coldness with which he pronounced my name made it clear he would hear no more.
I bowed and withdrew. I might have found better luck reasoning with a servitor.
My head throbbed. Matters were deteriorating with alarming speed: too many people had fled the lower levels, seeking refuge in the hills and mountains surrounding the hive. It would not be a problem if the satellite I had requested years ago were in orbit—but it was deemed too costly. Or if I possessed transport vehicles capable of moving troops swiftly, instead of wasting entire days hunting bandits while leaving the hive unguarded. Of the handful of transports I did have, barely a quarter still functioned.
Even our lasguns were in dreadful condition. And though the rebels lacked proper weaponry, they were improvising arms capable of piercing the miserable flak armour of my guards.
If things continued this way, I would lose control of the farmlands within months. And no one knew how long before authority collapsed entirely in the lower levels, now that gangs believed they could defy order with impunity.
Upon arriving at the barracks, my lieutenants, captains and sergeants greeted me with that naïve spark of hope: more weapons, a vehicle or two, reinforcements, higher pay… something. But I had secured nothing.
One look at my expression extinguished all hope.
"Do what you can. Follow your schedules within the hive. I will see what can be managed outside," I told the men and women who still trusted me.
They departed without a word. I felt wretched.
I lit a lho-stick and sat in my chair, inhaled to steady myself, and closed my eyes. As I exhaled, I sensed a presence before me. A silhouette. Motionless. Observing.
"By the blessed Emperor…" I whispered, releasing the smoke—just as a hand plucked the lho-stick from my lips and another removed the pistol from my belt. I tried to recoil, but my body ceased to obey. Not a single muscle responded.
"I presume this is a cigarette… we found many during our last incursion," said the figure, circling me with almost casual indifference. "I understand you detest the governor. I prefer voluntary cooperation to a shattered will. You may join us… or spend the rest of your life broken."
I tried to speak, but my jaw was locked as hard as stone.
"Ah. Yes."The figure crouched before me. His mechanical mask unfolded with a soft click, revealing the face of a blond human, eyes shining with an unnatural, almost radiant intensity.
Suddenly, I regained control over my jaw and tongue.
"What makes you think I would betray the governor, huh… you damned rebel?" I said with difficulty.
"Because I can read your mind. And you despise the governor with an honesty I find admirable."His smile was calm."Furthermore, this planet is about to be invaded. Your cooperation will determine how many die. And, since I know the exact condition of your forces—I have seen it within your thoughts—I can state plainly that with defective lasguns, armour lacking munitions, and vehicles incapable of moving, I doubt you could stop us. Thus I appeal to your duty, Deonaris: save your guards and cooperate."
"But—"
"Yes, I can read your mind like a book… yes, I know every thought before you speak it… and yes, you must decide now."He answered the three questions that formed in my mind before I spoke them.
"But—" I tried again—And then the visions erupted inside my skull: dozens of ships over our world, figures advancing through the hive, and the astropath… dead.
"Order your guards to assemble at the hive's starport for 'training', and you shall be generously rewarded, Deonaris."He handed me a vox without the slightest haste.
My body responded once more as the glow in his eyes faded from radiant blue to a deep blue.
"Go on. Do it. Your decision is already made," he said with a wide, confident smile.
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POV of PDF GUARDSMAN
"Damn it… how is it possible we're not receiving a single Throne? We're falling apart, and the commander can't even hold back the bandits anymore. And still nothing arrives," I said, helmet in hand, kicking a piece of rubble across the floor.
"Keep your voice down, or they'll send us to discipline… or worse," my squadmate muttered, adjusting her lasgun, the loose parts rattling like scrap metal.
"We lost four last week. They were killed down in the sublevels and we haven't been able to respond. In a single month we've lost twenty guards… and the only decent assault we managed was against that gang—fifty scum dead, but no reinforcements came. On the contrary, hundreds abandoned their posts. What more do they expect us to do?" I said, slinging my lasgun over my shoulder.
"You're more irritable than usual. What's wrong?" she asked.
"Those rats threatened my wife. And my daughter. They said… things. And no matter how many times I've asked for a patrol to sweep that area, there's no manpower. For days now, no one can go down there—we're losing people, and others are deserting. What do you want me to do?" I said, my brow so tight it hurt.
"I didn't know… Does Deonaris know?" she asked, surprised.
"Yes. He was hoping to use whatever funds they granted him to hit that gang hard. But they approved nothing. I just… I just hope I don't find my family in pieces," I said through clenched teeth.
"Hey… Deonaris ordered us to assemble at the starport," announced one of the guards with a vox unit built into his helmet.
"Another merchant ship arrived?" my squadmate asked with a tired smile.
"Please, let it be that… Last time, their escort covered our shifts for weeks," I said, feeling a thin spark of hope.
"No. It's some kind of training. Apparently he wants us in shape because… changes are coming. I think he did it. The stubborn bastard actually did it," the vox-guard said, sounding pleased.
"Don't tell me he managed to get the funds approved?" I asked, my smile wavering between hope and disbelief.
"That must be it. He wouldn't give that order otherwise," the vox-guard replied.
Soon the entire Hive Guard began gathering at the starport. Tens of thousands of us, and then the field guards began arriving as well. Apparently every last one of us had to be there.
"Do we have to leave our gear?" the vox-guard asked, listening to new instructions.
"What's going on?" I asked.
"He ordered us to deposit our weapons in a pile. Says we'll have new ones soon and this scrap can be discarded," he answered.
We began stacking our lasguns into mounds that looked like hills of old metal.
We noticed several ships in orbit.
"yes,they're merchant ships…" I said, feeling excitement creep back in.
"Emperor willing, they brought enough lasguns for everyone," my squadmate added.
We saw a group of smaller craft approaching the port. They looked nothing like the cargo haulers we'd received last year.
Several of those ships passed over the platform and then, suddenly, armed men in unfamiliar armor began dropping from them.
"What…?" I whispered, stunned, as hundreds fell from the ships, armed to the teeth, slamming into the ground with bone-shaking force.
"Hands up. You are now in custody. You are prisoners," boomed a voice over a vox system none of us recognized. More and more of those soldiers fell around us
"What's happening… commander? We're surrounded. What do we do?" someone shouted over the vox. "Commander… do you copy… commander…?"
No response.
Then we heard three shots fired into the air.
"I am not going to repeat myself—hands up where I can see them," the soldier barked, rifle raised.
Someone hesitantly lifted his hands above his head.
"Do that," the soldier repeated, pointing at him, and all of us followed the gesture.
"Are they… pirates?" I whispered to my squadmate.
"I don't know," she answered, as worried as I was.
The soldiers secured our weapons, every entrance and exit of the starport—there was no escape.
More troops kept landing while ships disgorged even more attackers into our positions, until enormous men in massive armor began dropping down, denting the platform on impact.
One suit of armor—red with darker tones, adorned with gold and marked with a wolf insignia—began marching toward the upper hive levels, followed by hundreds of other warriors.
"I think we're done for…" I whispered.
"Tell me about it…" my squadmate muttered, staring at the armed giants watching over us.
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POV of PDF COMMANDER
A long, suffocating silence filled the room.The man—the one who could walk into my mind whenever he pleased—stood there without saying a word after I had sent my messages to my subordinates, promising them equipment and weapons. I could not tell whether he was waiting for something or simply savoring my unease, but every minute felt heavier than the last.
At last he lifted a hand and tapped a device on his armor. A voice crackled through the communicator.
"This is Kazimir. Full control of the starport secured. Planetary defense forces are under our command. Advancing to secure the lower hive levels. No organized resistance."
The message repeated again in Gothic.
"Good… seems your part is complete," the man said.
I wished my guards had been able to do something. But the entire defense had fallen—because of me.
"It would have been a bloodbath if you hadn't intervened. You prevented that. You saved lives." He gestured for me to follow him. "Come. I have to kill the governor. I imagine you'd like to see him writhe."
"Kill him? You're not going to capture him…?" I asked as I followed behind.
"I read what he thinks." He moved through the palace corridors as if he knew them better than I did. "I considered using him as a puppet, but keeping him under control would be a constant inconvenience."
"His son is a good man. All of us have been waiting for the governor to die. He could rule this world properly." I tried to steer him toward something less horrific.
"He will die as well. He won't trust me after I kill his father." He said my name without even looking at me. "Trying to find a way out, are you? There isn't one. It's far too late."
"Holy Emperor… what have I done?" I whispered, closing my eyes for a moment.
"What was necessary," he answered calmly.
We continued forward as my stomach tied itself in knots. When we entered the palace, the governor's guards confronted us.
"Deonaris, the governor said he doesn't want to see you. Get out," one of them growled.
The stranger did not stop. One guard reached out to block his path—and then it happened.
Every neck snapped at once, as if twisted by an invisible hand. The ten guards collapsed silently, their lifeless eyes staring in unnatural directions.
Shapes appeared all around us—dozens of figures that had not been visible a moment before, dissolving out of their cloaks of invisibility as if emerging from the air itself.
They exchanged a few terse words and, within seconds, pushed open the great doors of the throne hall. All of them vanished again, save for the one walking at my side.
The music ceased instantly. Hundreds of eyes turned toward us.
"What is this…? Deonaris, what in the Throne's name have you done?!" the governor shouted from his throne as his guards advanced.
The man strode forward, lifted a hand—and the governor's psyker's head exploded like an overripe fruit. Blood and bone fragments sprayed the courtiers, and panic erupted through the hall.
The guards collapsed next, their heads bursting as gunshots erupted from every direction. Barely had their bodies hit the floor when the nobles began dropping as well, cut apart by bursts that tore through abdomen, chest, and skull alike, turning the marble tiles into a crimson river.
A beam of light flashed from the stranger's arm as he advanced toward the governor. The man was frozen in place, terror carved onto his features.
Amid screams and chaos, the stranger reached him. With a single clean, swift motion, he severed the governor's head. I watched it fall, slowly, almost peacefully. Then he grabbed it by the hair and lifted it, examining it for a few seconds while its eyes still twitched, unable to accept their death.
The nobles continued to fall one by one. None escaped. There had been hundreds in the hall—and not one survived. I saw the governor's family seized and forced to their knees, surrounded by those invisible soldiers who revealed themselves only to them.
The man held up the severed head before the family… and beckoned me closer.When I approached, he tossed the head to me.
"Fix it somewhere everyone can see… and reorganize your garrisons. We have to bring this world to order." Then he turned his attention to the kneeling family. I think he was reading their minds.
I left to carry out the order. I had barely stepped out of the hall when I heard gunshots behind me. I turned just in time to see the governor's two daughters collapse, dead, followed by his wife.
The son remained kneeling, strangely calm, holding his mother's hand as the man watched him with a coldness no words could describe.
Then the stranger extended a hand toward the son.
And the Son… accepted it.....Smiling.
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If there are spelling mistakes, please let me know.
Leave a comment; support is always appreciated.
I remind you to leave your ideas or what you would like to see.
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