[40k] Tzeentch let me see (Original Short Story)

Trigoris watched with a smile as the witchfire burned away the last bit of the Ultramarines Captain into ash.

That one died standing. Even after living so long, and having killed Space Marines from six chapters, he never understood why they were so different in death.

At the very last moment, some would deliver their souls to the False Emperor. Fucking pathetic. Others would ask forgiveness from their dead Primarch, for their failure. Some warriors, like that Space Wolf guy, died cursing him. He respected that. But never the Ultramarines. Those always died in the middle of a new plan to take him with them. They died fully focused, waiting for a chance to strike. This reminded Trigoris of a quote from that bastard, Fabius Bile: Ultras are dangerously consistent. This Captain died reaching for his grenade. Though luck, blue boy.

No one would ever say the sons of Magnus were not through in their vengeance.

The ash scattered around his power armor. 10.000 years of service, that one. Like himself. He would have the servants scrub that ash away in the battlebarge as soon as possible.

“You, call the others. Plant charges or grenades on the bodies.”

The Iron Warriors Lieutenant waited a long time before responding.

“Why not just shoot their glands? Why waste good explosives on this dead scum?”

“Because I want to take some more of them on our way out, and make absolutely sure they can’t recover any of that geneseed. Be quick about it, their battlebarge should be here very soon.”

“I doubt they will fall for it, Sorcerer. My cogitator says they will recover the bodies with servitors. You were our ride, got us in here. Your portal magic was indeed very impressive, but that's it. I give the orders. Bolters shells are less expensive, and our precision unmatched. Khasto to Squad, shoot the Ultras glands and prepare for takeoff.”

Trigoris would not insist on the matter. The bolter explosions filled the chambers of the asteroid. Another information relay down on the Tarvan sector, the sixth they ravaged in a few days. At some point, Macragge would have to commit some more of their navy this way.

The Iron Warriors strategy for the next grand incursion on the Ultramarines core realms was simple, but effective. Astrophatic communication could be rendered unreliable, and the sons of Guilliman loved their low tech information networks as backups over the empty space. Waves, radio signals, high power laser. The bases are hard to find, but could be put down, like they just did. Stupid. They allocated only 5 Space Marines to this position, and a company of Guardsmen. Not enough to protect it, just enough to send a warning about our arrival. All according to the plan.

Communications through the Warp were perfect, instantaneous, protected. Only the Chaos Gods themselves could interfere with that spell. Humanity could gain so much, if they accepted the universe as it was: a place of being beyond us, full of monsters, but also full of energy and resources. The Chaos Gods could not be beat, but Warp Magic could be harnessed. The Thousand Sons perfect that spellcraft over millenia. If only the dead Emperor had not been so greedy with the truth back them, before Horus… once again, Trigoris found himself rumbling about things thousand years gone. Had millenia started to corrupt him?

The sorcerer was so entranced with the past, he didn't notice the half dead girl punching his leg. The power armor didn’t budge. A survivor, hum?

“YOU STOP DESSACRATING THEIR BODIES, YOU MONSTER!”

By her tags, the girl was a Captain. Not even 25 years old, he would bet. Both of her legs were missing. Bolter shots, probably. Iron Warriors loved to leave some half dead soldiers behind - its more expensive taking care of that for the enemy war machine. Never Space Marines, though. That analytical mind was what Trigoris loved about the Iron Warriors. Some of his own brothers were less interested in efficiency as they should in their war.

"You mistake me, my child. This is proof of my respect for them."

The Guardsmen froze midpunch, still bleeding. It’s not every day a Thousand Sons Grand Sorcerer speaks with a mortal. Or maybe she was losing too much blood.

"What? Why shoot them after they're dead?"

"Ohhh, you don't even know this much. That 's right. In the Imperium, no one knows anything! You fight beside space marines, die for them in droves, and don't even know how they are made. How little their numbers really are. This way, we make them go away forever."

"Bullshit, you devil! The Emperor's angels are endless! The Emperor Protect!"

Trigoris laughed before responding.

"Why would I lie to a bloody rag about to die? See, every one of those dead ‘angels’ were once a man. They implant them with a special set of glands, and they become super soldiers. I can tell. I was once one of them. By destroying the glands, they can't make more Ultramarines out of those bodies. That’s the reason Space Marines always recover their dead. It’s not about the nobility of their Chapter, like they tell you."

The half dead girl was shaken. Good.

"The juice that makes them strong? It 's not endless. They call it Geneseed. That stuff comes from their Primarch himself and can't be replicated. There is a very small supply of it, and we destroy some of those from time to time. Every Ultra we kill for good like this, don't come back. See? Someday, the angels will be gone, but the devils… we will remain."

That much of the truth was a bit too much for the soldier. She was tired, bleeding. Her body dwindled as she scored herself on a rock. She seemed confused.

Oh, Trigoris loved making mortals confused! That lost look, doing the forbidden math. Eyes unfocused. This was a delicacy.

"What you said is true? The Space Marines ranks are not endless?"

"Yes, all of it. It's a shame you won't survive this to share that knowledge."

Trigoris raised his hand, and a purple glow started building. He would make it quick for her.

One of the Iron Warrior Space Marines barged into the room with fast strides.

"Sorcerer, we detected a battlebarge coming from the Warp. We need to go now. The main charges are set on the antennas. The team awaits you at the control room. Come with me."

"Wait a moment."

Trigoris looked back at the Guardsman. But the glow subsided. His hand closed. He had an idea. Tzeentch would be proud. He turned to the Iron Warrior.

"Let 's go trooper. Now. Show me the way."

The Chaos Space Marine did not complain as he left one of the enemy alive. They had better things to do. Back into the Control Room, only 18 of their Space Marines would make the jump back. The enemy bit them back a little. No matter, they, unlike their blind brothers, had an endless supply of demons to play.

But Trigori’s satisfaction didn't last long. Back at the barge, Ironmaster Phlatos called for him before the next strategy meeting. A meeting in his private quarters. Trigori’s hurried.

The fleet overseer was sitting in his chair without his power armor, looking relaxed, but accompanied by two battle ready Terminators. Two more Space Marines at the door. Overseer Phlatos didn't play games, even in private.

"Congratulations on your work today, Trigoris. Another successful raid."

"Thank you Overseer, our team fought well. Soon they will spread thin enough for us to attack."

"Focused on the target as always, I see. This makes me wonder, Trigoris. I heard you spared a guardsman before our jump back. My men told his superior. May I ask you why, Sorcerer?"

Phlatos look made him sure. He did not mean it as a question. That was an order.

"I had an inspiration."

"Inspiration? That’s it? And that was the reason you told that trooper quite a lot of secrets about our kind? Did I authorize any information sharing with the enemy, Sorcerer?"

The Terminators took a step forward. They were just waiting for him to try and escape.

"By my own authority, Phlatos. I wondered… We are doing all this to weaken the Ultramarines in the fringes of their realm. Force Ultramar to send more ships here. On the last six incursions, we dealt with quite a lot of Imperial Guard units. The Ultras are using them as spare troops everywhere around here."

"Get to the fucking point, Trigoris."

"I gave that girl some very deadly information. The Ultramarines they worship are not endless, see? If she survives. she will be rewarded. Hero of the Imperium, get a nice promotion. Maybe, with time, she will spill those secrets I gave her. Like a mind cancer, that knowledge will spread. In time, the Imperial Guard commanders of the sector will know their best troops must be protected, for they are a limited supply. They will ask for less reserves. Delay requests for help. Even if they try to avoid being affected by it, many commanders will give slightly twisted orders, trying to preserve the Ultramarines from utter death. Their desire to spare precious resources will give us an edge. By next year, we can expect changes."

"What kind of bullshit is this? You can’t assume this plan would work. Best odds, that Guardsman died already. The subject here is, you can’t engage in that kind of psyop without my approval. Anything else to say in your defence, Sorcerer?"

"I actually have certainty this plan will work, Overseer. "

"How?"

"Every time I lock eyes with a mortal, Tzeentch allows me to try and see the way they will die. Works in one every nine people. Sounds like a shitty power, right? I thought so as well, at first. But after a few centuries, I learned how to use it. Like today."

"Why should I believe you, son of Magnus?"

"That girl will die in the hands of the Inquisition many years from now. A secondary purge of personnel who had contact with Chaos. She would survive until there."

Trigoris stepped forward slowly, pulling the empty chair. The bodyguards didn’t strike him. Good.

"And I’ve seen how you die too, Phlatos. It is the reason I volunteered for this operation and the reason I am on your ship. You will die at the hands of a hated foe in the deck of this ship, a few thousand years from now. Until then, this ship is a super safe spot for me to hang. Like you, I like to calculate my odds. And I give you this for free: that Lieutenant I worked with today will die very soon at the hands of a Grey Knight strike team. They will pry from him the information about our fleet. I suggest you  do something about this.”

Like the Guardsmen girl before, Overseer Phlatos eyes did a series of jumps, as he did the math and weighted the value of such providence and insight. That was a very valuable knowledge. The bait of knowing about oneself’s death was irresistible. Trigoris froze his face and held a smile. At long last, the fleet Overseer spoke.

“Fine. I will believe you, for now. Lets see if this plan of yours will bear fruit. You can go, Sorcerer. I wanna know more about your power after the briefing meeting. Marshko, Skol, bring me Lieutenant Khasto now.”

The Terminators left immediately. Trigoris left after them, with no rush. He loved his work. Tzeentch would be proud. Or not. You never knew with his patron.

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Hey! If you read until the end, thank you! This is my first 40k short story.