Chapter Eight
The dining hall of Velour Manor was filled with the noisy and repugnant sounds of one man gorging himself with little care for decorum and etiquette. True to his word, Randolph Velour had ordered his staff of thirty cooks to prepare a feast, but a feast fit for one. The long dining hall had been filled with cooked crustaceans, fried fish, baked and glazed sweets, deliciously aged wine for every occasion, and a number of goodies that would be fitting of an Ascension Day celebration. And yet it was all going straight down the blubbery gullet of the Lord Governor, while Yamira, Amber, Cage and Devon were left partially-heated bread rolls with a single dollop of butter smeared on it. Not a single person save for the Lord Governor touched their food.
“So… Governor Velour,” Amber slowly said, tapping the tips of her hooves together. Velour responded with a belch, flicking a piece of fish meat from his mustache. “Have you been properly informed on who we are and how we seek to benefit you and your people?”
“More or less,” Velour said. He plucked a leg of roasted bird off a silver tray and bit a chunk out of it. “My council of advisors told me that - oh, this is good,” He smacked his lips and took another bite, now speaking with a mouthful of food. “That you lot were interdimensional travelers from beyond the veil of the Warp. How you’ve sought allegiance with every prominent power in the galaxy, in exchange for some promises of,” He tossed a picked-clean bone onto the floor, the clatter echoing throughout the room. “Improved livings, protection from outside forces, and other such things I’m sure my advisors have already told me.”
“That’s…” Amber paused to wipe a speck of food off her face. “Pretty much the overall deal, minus a few incredibly important details.” Yamira ceased picking at her bread with her fork to shoot a sidelong glare at Amber. Fortunately, the pony didn’t seem to notice. “If you were to accept the Merodi’s offer for Armastus, we will enact a full cultural exchange, provided by our very own Aid Division.” She smiled as she lightly tapped her hoof on the table. “We’ll provide support for those living in poor living conditions, open trade for you amongst all our other allies, share advanced technology to improve day-to-day living, allow for transport to Celestia City, our travelling capital…”
“Granting them weaponry for defending themselves from dangerous outside forces?” Yamira interjected. Amber’s already minimal confidence took a visible blow, judging from how her face wilted. The fact that Velour had stopped his eating to hear this answer almost made Yamira grin.
“Well, uh…” Amber slowly said. “That’s kind of an iffy topic to deal with. That’s usually the Military Division’s call, not Aid.” Yamira leaned on the table, batting her bread roll with her fork.
“It’s still a matter to broach, Ambassador,” Yamira said. “After all, you must certainly be aware of how dangerous our universe is.” She lightly rotated the fork between two fingers. “From Xenos threats, internal schisms and heresies, and even hostile environments of our own planets, people are constantly fighting to survive. If you truly wish to ‘support’ the people of the Imperium, then why would providing weapons be an iffy topic, as you so put it.” Across the table, Devon was giving Yamira a confused look, scratching the scruff of his chin with his brow creased. Yamira regarded the Captain with a knowing nod, but that did little to dispel Devon’s apparent confusion. Amber, meanwhile, looked as though she were ready to break out into a cold sweat.
“I-I-I, uh, we of Merodi Universalis do know how dangerous Galaxia Immaterium is,” Amber quickly said. “But, when broaching realities and universes like yours, we need to exercise a lot of, uh, caution.” She tapped her hoof against the table again. “There have been incidents in the past of people getting ahold of multiversal-grade technology and doing a lot of bad things with them, and Military and Relations don’t want to take that big of a risk, especially with something so large-scale.”
“It sounds to me, Ambassador,” Yamira leaned over the table and narrowed her gaze at Amber. “That you don’t trust us to be responsible with your weapons.” Truth be told, Yamira knew precious little of what the Merodi had in the way of weapons. What little she had seen, she had equated with Aeldari or Tau technology, but sleeker, and thus slightly more heretical. The ships, vehicles, and buildings themselves were far beyond what the Imperium had access too, especially with the scattered bits of knowledge gained from lost STCs helping bring back humanity from the Dark Age of Technology, but Yamira still had little to see in the form of actual weapons. She did not know if they had guns akin to the mighty bolter, the eloquent lasgun, or even such larger-scale weapons like the gigantic Titan or tools capable of mass destruction, like the Exterminatus missile. It was a gambit to make this prod, but Yamira refused to simply let this planet fall to the wiles of these outsiders, as so many had in the past. And judging by Amber’s stuttering mouth like a jammed Heavy Bolter, it was paying off.
“Oh, come off the matter, Lady Commissar,” Velour said. All heads snapped towards him as the fat man poured himself a large goblet full of wine. “Besides, I’ve already decided to accept the offer from these M’Lady people.” Yamia’s fork fell from her hand, as did three of Cage’s still smouldering cigarettes.
“Excuse me?” Yamira said.
“Are you serious?” Devon added
“Hang on, what?” Cage asked.
“YOU ARE?!” Amber exclaimed, nearly standing in her seat.
“Yes, I am,” Velour calmly said. He tilted his head back and drank from his goblet, streaks of red running down his lips and chin, staining the collar of his shirt. He sighed contentedly as he set the empty goblet down. “When I was informed of the Emperor’s decree, I spoke it over with my most trusted advisor, and she convinced me that such an alliance would be for the betterment of Armastus, and the Imperium as a whole. So yes, I will be accepting the alliance.” Yamira was flabbergasted. Not a word could escape her partially-burned lips, her jaw moving of its own volition as her brain tried to process the sheer insanity of what she was just told. Cage, across the table, snickered and pointed at Yamira.
“Hey Cap, check it out,” Cage said. “She’s twinning with Ambs.” Yamira shut her mouth and jerked her head to the side, where she saw that Amber was also imitating a dying fish with her shocked gaze and open mouth. Slowly, however, that shocked expression broke away to an elated smile.
“Th-that is incredible news, sir!” she exclaimed. She immediately hopped off her seat and trotted over to Velour’s seat, just as he was licking his fingers clean of an orange sauce of some kind. “Thank you so much for accepting our offer for alliance, and thanks especially to your advisor! This is a decision you sure will never regret!”
“You could thank her yourself, if you so wish,” Velour offered.
“Absolutely!” Amber nodded vigorously. Judging by the way she was shaking, she was just about ready to jump into orbit and explode into joy. Yamira, however, felt a need to have choice words with an advisor who clearly was inadequate at their job.
“Yes, summon her here,” Yamira said. “I wish to meet the one who has coerced you into your… decision.”
“Consider it done!” Velour said. He pushed himself away from the table, which resulted in the entire table jostling from the lack of fat support keeping it elevated. Velour slowly stood up from his seat and walked over to a small podium where a little brass bell sat, a little thing that bore no discernable markings other than clear wear and tear. The fat Planetary Governor accidentally knocked it over with a brushing of his grubby fingers, letting a dull ring echo throughout the manor. “Oh dear. Hold on a moment.” Velour bent over, audibly grunting as his back creaked, barely able to reach for the bell on the floor over his paunchy stomach. His fingers just barely touched the rim of the bell when he foolishly stepped forward and kicked the bell across the floor, more rings sounding in the dining hall. Velour cursed, chasing after the bell, only to kick it again as he stepped closer. This continued for a full minute. By the time Velour made a full lap around the seven meter table, Cage had nearly keeled over from holding back his laughter, Amber’s smile became more and more forced, and Yamira wished for a warp storm to open up and consume the whole planet, and maybe Celestia City as well, while it was at it.
The bell finally came to a stop at the tip of a pointed boot, and Velour himself came to a stop right into an open palm. Velour slowly stood up, the hand not leaving his head even as he reached his full height. “Ah, Lady Tzahah, there you are.” The woman who held the Lord Governor’s head in her hands picked up the bell and smiled, her teeth capped with golden triangles in a facsimile of fangs.
“By the ringing of the bell, I will always arrive,” she said. The woman was a lithe thing, slender in build yet shapely in all the right places to attract wandering eyes, made further apparent by the vacant spaces in her clothes to show off excess pale skin. Her outfit, an assortment of dark colors and silver tassels, culminating in a wide backpiece behind her head that flared wide, as though she were sporting the hood of a cobra. The beauty of her clothing was hardly a decent offset for her face. Her head was completely shaven bald, a series of intricate lines tattooed on her forehead ran down her sunken-in cheeks. Six bronze rings looped along the bridge of her nose, matching the dull color of her eyes. Her hands, each sporting a claw-like nail nearly three inches in length, tightly held a golden scepter with a trio of golden spheres lined perfectly at the top. What many would see as an advisor for a prominent political leader, Yamira could clearly see was a snake in human skin.
Velour dusted himself off, completely forgetting his prior demeanor, and gestured to the woman. “Ambassadors of Mermaid United, Lady Commissar,” Velour said. “This is my most trusted advisor, Lady Leilani Tzahah.” Lady Tzahah curtsied, picking up one of her tassels as she made the gesture. “She advised my brother before me, aided me through Armastus’ most dire of days, and was instrumental in reaching this decision. I trust every word she speaks with every fiber of my being.”
“You are far too kind in your praises, Lord Governor,” Lady Tzahah said, once again smiling with her golden fangs. “I simply do what is best for Armastus and its people.” The woman even hissed with every word she spoke, a shiver running up Yamira’s spine on every heavily-accented ‘s’. Amber, however, seemed to notice nothing as she trotted over to the Lord Governor and his advisor.
“It’s very nice to meet you, Lady Tzahah,” she said, responding with a curtsy of her own. Odd thing to see when done by a small, big-eyed horse. “I’m Ambassador Amber Dust of Merodi Universalis, and on behalf of all of us, thank you for your input on the matters of this alliance.” Lady Tzahah’s eyes seemed to gleam a bit as she knelt down to speak to the pony on an eye-to-eye level. Yamira saw the gesture as disgusting, speaking to the Xenos on equal footing.
“A delight to meet you as well, Ambassador.” Lady Tzahah said. “I will look forward to working with your society and developing strong bonds that will benefit all in the end. Unity will strengthen this galaxy, and your world will greatly benefit ours.” Amber smiled back, her tail swishing back and forth behind her.
“Thank you for such kind words. But I do want to ask: what made you decide to accept Merodi Universalis’ offer?”
Lady Tzahah simply smiled and said, “Resources.” Velour clapped his hands, startling Amber a bit and bringing the advisor back to her full height.
“Yes, yes, such a wonderful alliance we all shall have,” Velour tiredly said. “We can discuss the matter of finalizing the whole ordeal tomorrow. It grows late and I feel sleep ready to claim me.” Devon glanced at the great clock behind him, an eyebrow raised when he read the time.
“... But it’s barely past four.” he said. Lady Tzahah stepped behind Velour, wrapping her fingers around his shoulders and leaning over, her smile unbroken.
“Yes, but the Lord Governor needs his sleep,” she said. Her fingers rubbed his shoulders, drawing a shuddering sigh from Velour’s lips and a smile on his blubbery cheeks. “Such a wise and gracious leader must be well rested before he finalizes any matter.”
“Y-yes, quite,” Velour added. “We shall secure our alliance upon the morrow, after I have had my rest.” He broke away from Lady Tzahah’s hold, arms outstretched in a mock embrace. “You may stay here for the night, there are many unused rooms in the manor that you may sleep in.” He glanced down at Amber. “Do you require a stable to sleep in, or shall I have the servants retrieve one of the old beds that my brother’s warhounds slept in? They should be large enough for you to sleep in.”
Amber nervously chuckled and waved her hoof. “N-no, I’m capable of sleeping in a normal bed, thank you.”
“Yes, yes,” Velour said, stroking his mustache. “I’ll have the servants clean off the bed after the whole sodding ordeal.” He might have said that a bit louder than he realized, but Amber made no show of a response. Yamira felt inwardly impressed at the pony’s restraint, but then quickly dismissed the thought as the idea of being impressed by a Xenos would have made her ill. “Well then, I’ll be off to my own slumber, then. Enjoy your stay here at Velour Manor.” Velour turned about and prepared to leave, but Lady Tzahah’s staff tapped against the Lord Governor’s foot and slowly pivoted him back towards the table. She quickly whispered something into his ear and returned to smiling, Velour briefly sobering up from his apparent drowsy state. “Oh, yes, almost forgot: Do stay away from the east corridor on the third floor, it’s under renovation after the ghastly attack a few weeks ago, and much of the place is still being restored. Good night!” Velour swivelled around again and, without any impediments, waddled out of the dining hall. Lady Tzahah bowed, her golden smile never leaving her face as she followed Velour into the shadows.
“Good night!” Amber called, waving her hoof as the two Armastan officials dipped from sight. A solid minute after the Lord Governor and his advisor left, Amber’s smile fell and her brow furrowed as she turned back to the others. “Okay, so anyone else got the vibe that Lady Tzahah is super evil?”
“Oh my god, thank you,” Cage said, reclining in his seat with both hands on the sides of his head. “I mean, she looks like a snake and gave the most vague answer to the alliance.”
“I did get some bad feelings in my bones looking at her,” Devon added, folding his arms across his chest. “Then again, most of the time, Planetary Governors get stuck with the seediest of people. Like this one bloke I knew a few years back, had his entire head encased in gold and carried that creepy wooden doll with him. Not sure if he was a traitor or not, but that woman gives me the shivers.”
“The Book of Friendship normally super discourages judging people based on appearance,” Amber said. “But I look at that lady and think ‘By the Tower, she’s definitely an evil person’.”
“I don’t think she was even blinking while she was talking to us,” Cage added, gesturing with his two cigarettes. “That shit is absolutely creepy, and there are a lot of creeps out there. Like Mayor Blumiere, except he’s cool.”
“There’s something damn well off about her, but I can’t place my finger on it,” Devon said. He turned over to Yamira, who had yet to take her eyes off the door Velour and Lady Tzahah had exited by. “Lady Commissar, you’ve been awful quiet during all of this. What do you think of Lady Tzahah?” Yamira jerked her head away from the door, focusing on her comrade and the two outsiders she was stuck with. They seemed to directly share her thoughts about the suspicion of Lady Tzahah, even outright calling her evil merely on looks and mannerisms alone. But Yamira felt rage at this serpentine woman for deeper reasons, for desiring to sell the Hive World of Armastus to the Merodi for something as simple as ‘resources’. Yet, there was something about the advisor that made Yamira hesitant. Normally, she could simply say the word, Devon or the Arbitrators could pick up their guns, march to whatever hole Lady Tzahah had crawled out of, and put a hole between her eyes. It would take a bit of convincing, a show of her credentials and wave of her bolt pistol, but her authority would be absolute. Killing Lady Tzahah on mere suspicion would not help assuage any fears, she’d learned as much from many Commissars who had fallen from such carelessness in the past.
“There is something rotten here,” Yamira said, slowly rising from her seat. “But I am not sure what. This requires investigation.”
“I definitely agree.” Amber said. She produced a tablet from her person and raised a hoof. “I’ll contact Celestia City and request aid from the League of Sweetie Belles.” Yamira’s eye shot open and she immediately ran around the table, swatting the tablet out of her hooves.
“NO!” she shouted. The aghast looks from Amber and Devon (plus Cage’s usual look of ambivalence) suggested that maybe Yamira made a poor reaction in their eyes. From what little Yamira had decided to learn about Merodi workings, one of the prominent names to stand out were the League of Sweetie Belles. A collective of young ponies (and some other race variants, depending on what other strays the Merodi have picked up) that acted as Celestia City’s police force and other various affiliates. Like a hybridization of Arbites and Orators, only the minority of them were human. If more Xenos appeared on the planet, then it would result in pandemonium. She promptly stood back up, in proper militaristic stature, and cleared her throat. “No, this is a matter that can be handled on our own. Intervention by outside powers would only make matters worse.” Amber rubbed her hoof and gave Yamira a somewhat incredulous look.
“Rude…” Amber muttered. “I know you’ve got this military mind, Yamira, but you’re not in charge here.” She set her hoof down and jabbed it at the Commissar, her expression hardening. “You are aid and advisor on Imperial matters, while I am Ambassador of Relations. Ergo, I outrank you.” Yamira felt her eye twitch and her gloves tighten around her fists. Amber’s bravado briefly deflated, seeing Yamira’s teeth grit through the gaping hole in her cheek. Still, she puffed up her chest, inhaled sharply, and stamped her hoof. “W-we are going to contact the League, end of discussion.”
“No, we are not.” Yamira growled.
“Okay, we’re not.” Amber squeaked, now pressing herself onto the floor in an effort to make herself as small as possible. Cage shook his head and sighed, puffing a cloud of smoke to obscure his face.
“So, we’re going to look into Lady Tzahah, then?” Devon asked. He chuckled and hefted his lasgun off the ground, running his finger along the trigger. “Already feeling my trigger finger getting itchy, been a while since I’ve shot a heretic.”
“At ease, Captain.” Yamira said, raising her hand. “We don’t need to shoot up the manor just yet, the Arbitrators will storm in and bludgeon you senseless.” Devon grumbled and lowered his gun. “But, I do think we should take into account Lord Governor Velour’s last minute statement.”
“Third floor, east corridor, right?” Cage said. He plucked one of his spent cigarettes and tossed it onto his untouched plate. “I can probably scout that out, just point me to a vent shaft.” He lazily gestured around the room, pointing to the large metal pipes that jutted through the walls and ceiling. “The piping could get me there quickly, unless those are extensions to some kind of toilet.” Cage put a new cigarette to his lips and prepare to light it, but stayed his lighter inches from his face. “... On second thought, that idea is horrifying. I hate my imagination.”
“You can do this by utilizing your…” Yamira cringed as she continued her thoughts. “Witch-like smoke manipulation abilities, correct?”
“Stand ability, yeah.” Cage said. He held out his hand and blew a cloud of smoke over it, condensing it into a ball easily, as though it were wet clay.
“Do it.” Yamira ordered. “Find out why Velour and Tzahah were so firm about the east corridor, report back here as soon as you are able. Do not get caught.” Cage tucked his hands into the pockets of his bomber jacket and shrugged, stirring his three cigarettes in his mouth. He wordlessly walked around the room, idly gazing around the room in search of a vent to exploit. Eventually, he found a metal grate lining the wall right next to a series of pipes. He knelt down, removed all three of his cigarettes, and blew a plume of smoke into the vents.
“Cigarette Daydreams.” The smoke in the vents slowly rose out, encircling the slothful man in a slow embrace. Soon, his entire body was consumed by the greyish black haze, not even a shadow of his body visible in the brightly lit dining room. Like the release of an airlock in a vacuum, the smoke shot into the vents with a single, swift motion, and Cage was gone. Yamira rested her hand on the pommel of her sword and reclined against the table.
“Now, we wait.” Yamira said. “Could have considered bringing Rutiger along, his kind are good at infiltrating.” Devon made a face and leaned on his gun, the barrel digging into the carpet to give him support.
“Still smells like an Ork died in a pile of grox filth,” he said. “But, ratlings do have their uses, I guess.” Yamira made a lackluster gesture and returned to her reclining. Her eye fell upon Amber, sitting in the corner next to a large portrait of Randolph Velour, staring at her tablet, looking far more irritated and dour than she had ever seen the pony.
“Are you attempting to contact your League again?”
“No…” Amber lowered the tablet and shot a partial glare. “Though I still think it’s a good idea, a better idea than doing this ourselves.” She sighed, her ears flattening against her head and her head lowering downcast. “This was supposed to be easy for once…” She flicked her tail against the frame of the portrait, tilting it ever-so-slightly. “Just talking with the leaders instead of escalating into another full-blown conspiracy, but no, ka loves making a fool out of good, honest, hard-working ponies.” Before Amber could continue her rant, the portrait of Randolph suddenly shifted again, tilting itself of its own volition. Yamira and Devon jumped to their feet, bolt pistol and lasgun drawn at the portrait. Amber yelped at the sight of the two humans drawing their guns, completely unaware that the portrait had exposed a hidden corridor, enwreathed in dark shadows. “Put your guns away, please don’t shoot me!”
Amber’s pleas were unheeded, as Devon fired a single round from his gun, a burning red laser lancing through the air and tearing clean through the portrait, puncturing the depiction of Randolph’s belly. A pained, inhuman shriek replied from the dark, followed by a dull thud and the scampering of fleeing feet. Amber’s pupils shrank to pinpricks, a stream of stammers and stutters running past her lips. Yamira gestured towards the opened corridor with her pistol, prompting Devon to silently investigate. Still peering down the sights of his rifle, Devon stepped past the prone pony and pushed the portrait further out of the way. He pressed a button on the side of his gun, activating a small flashlight and illuminating the corridor. Judging by the markless ferrocrete walls, it was an ancient installation, likely used for escape in the event of some catastrophe befalling the planet for the Lord Governor’s use. Yet, it seemed to have now been used for a far more malicious power. Devon shined his light on the ground, unveiling a cleanly severed arm of an unnatural creature, burned off perfectly at the shoulder by the glancing lasbeam. It was a three-pronged claw-like hand, white meat encased in a purple carapace of some gargantuan bug, a trickle of greenish-red blood staining the ground where it had come to a stump.
Yamira stood behind the Captain, and cursed when she saw the lost limb. “By the Emperor,” she snarled. “Genestealers. No doubt lingering from that infestation Velour had off-handedly mentioned earlier.”
“W-what’s a Genestealer?” Amber asked, peering into the corridor.
“Xenos-human mutants.” Devon scowled. “Freaks of nature that crop up in Hiveworlds and steal genetic code to create heretical abominations, trying to take over entire planets and kill anyone who resists.”
“They also worship the Tyranid Hive Mind,” Yamira added, slowly drawing her power sword from its scabbard. “Sacrificing entire planets to feed their endless hunger. And a Hiveworld like Armastus will feed them plenty.” Amber’s scared face morphed into unbridled terror, backing away from the corridor as quickly as her hooves allowed her.
“Oh goodness, oh goodness…” Amber whimpered. “W-w-we need to do something! The whole planet i-i-is in danger! Celestia City could be in danger!” She immediately dashed over to her tablet still on the floor, tripping over herself and catching it in her hooves. “The League needs to know!” Before Yamira could raise her objections, the floor exploded around Amber, shards of wood and stone scattering like shrapnel as several chitinous arms jutted forth. Amber barely had time to scream before she was dragged into the floor, her tablet snapping in two as she vanished.
“Amber!” Devon shouted. He ran over to the hole, aiming his lasgun down to fire on anything within his sights. Unfortunately, the floor was barren, save for the fragments of ceiling and floor littering the ground below, and half of Amber’s damaged tablet. He jerked towards Yamira, an angry and desperate look on his rugged face. “Genestealers got her! We need to go after her!” Yamira huffed and turned her attention back towards the corridor.
“The Genestealers left a direct passageway to their hideaway,” Yamira said. “Possibly right to the chamber Velour warned us to avoid. We’ll go through here, leave the Xenos horse to her fate.” Yamira set her foot inside the corridor, much to Devon’s disbelief.
“We can’t leave her to the mutants!” Devon shouted, jerking his head between Yamira and the hole in the floor. “Who knows what they’ll do to her?”
“The same as they’ve done to every other sentient race they come across in the galaxy.” Yamira curtly said. “Her fate will be the same as every human on this planet if we do not hurry.”
Devon growled, resisting the urge to throw his gun onto the ground and shake sense into the half-scarred woman. “Yamira, if anything happens to her, the Merodi will go mental! Like it or not, she’s our bloody responsibility.” Yamira snarled and whirled around, her dead eye narrowing on Devon like the scope of a sniper.
“My responsibility is to protect the Imperium of Man from all mutants, Xenos, and heretics that seek to destroy it!” Yamira shouted. “If you wish to save that pitiful excuse for an ambassador, then follow your own damn suicide mission!” She swung her sword and sliced through the portrait, allowing herself easier access into the corridor. “I’m going to follow that wounded mutant, gut him, and do the same with the rest of the cult.” Yamira leapt into the corridor and sprinted into the dark, the light blue glow of her power sword illuminating her path. Devon was left alone in the dining hall, stood between the hole that claimed Amber Dust and the hidden corridor that Yamira had absconded through. Sweat ran down his face as he breathed heavily, continuing to look between the holes, his grip on his gun tightening. The trigger almost went off from his increased hold on his weapon. He growled and shook his head, uttered a silent prayer to the Emperor, and took a leap of faith down the hole, landing with a heavy thud onto the splintered ground.
‘I’m sorry, Lady Commissar.’ Devon thought. ‘I’m loyal to the Imperium… but I’m damn-well loyal to my friends too.’