+ Taiwo Potentas +
"It is difficult. Excluding Rogue Trader Taiwo from the planning has little to recommend it, Unworthy."
"We are all mindful of the restrictions; of the margins under which we operate, Apothecary-gentle Yeng."
The apothecary shook his head sadly. "That... That I do not believe; Unworthy."
Scipius narrowed his eyes, and – so it seemed to Taiwo – sat still straighter. The room hung with sweet incense. Cinnamon; galbanum; a peppery hint that the Rogue Trader could not place. Scipius was tall, even for a space marine, even for one of the new Primaris; and slender. His posture was impeccable; straight-backed and clean, and so although he had adopted the cross-legged posture of the rest of the gathered Masters, he stood out like a sore thumb.
"Precedent is set in your – our – traditions, Gentle. It was written in the era of the Three Sages. Was it not Karna who said that..."
The apothecary finished the sentence, wearily "...in war time, all: men, women, children should be issued arm."
"And yet?"
"Karna say that in making them men, Karna is kill the children herself."
Kixang Sjakpaba, Master of the Fifth, grinned. His teeth glittered in the dim light as he wrapped his hands around the horse-shaped pommel of his sword, his hands flexing as though imagining fighting already.
"Children with blades can cut. Can kill. Why not make them men? I have fought besides our Young Warriors many times. Scouts are children and killers. To train, to grow; if that is to kill the child, what harm? The woman birth child; but the child must birth the man he become." He grinned at Taiwo, the ragged scar and implanted studs making his face lop-sided and stark in the moonlight. "Taiwo here, example. Though he not measure up to us, I say he could be trained to kill, even so. I say we give him blade; see whether he cut himself – or cut us a new space to fight our enemies." The Rogue Trader tilted his chin and smiled right back. He was used to – indeed, enjoyed – the bluster of competition during negotiations. Sjakpaba was straightforward besides; a likeable warrior.
Taiwo was finding talking to the Astartes' council every bit as varied and alien as – well – the xenos he had encountered. It was invigorating. He returned Sjakpaba's salute, then turned to listen to Scipius. The stern warriors' tone was dry as he addressed the Master of the fifth.
"I fear I do not appreciate the poetry; but nevertheless I am grateful for what I take as your support in this matter, brother."
Sjakpaba gave a good-hearted laugh as he leaned back, pleased with the sport. Scipius went on, addressing those ranged about the hearth in the circular room. "The rest of you? In the journey here, I had dared to imagine such councils would be conducted with the decorum and discipline of the Adeptus Astartes on the basis of well-founded intelligence and knowledge; not by the whims of frontier warlords, beholden to none save their desires."
Dün bristled at the slight. Taiwo had not been formally introduced to the Master of the seventeenth – or was it seventh? – strikeforce. He was a beautiful man; or perhaps would have been. The distortion of becoming an Astartes had thickened cheekbones that might have otherwise been fine, and recessed glittering eyes; but in turn it had granted his baked-ivory visage presence and nobility. Long, straight, black hair hung down on either side of his face, framing a fiercely controlled gaze.
"You forget yourself, Unworthy of the New First."
Scipius did not react. He was poised, his back straight, head upright, and hands resting on his knees. Far from the insouciant slouch that made most of the gathered Astartes look like resting predators, Scipius still looked as though he was on parade. The posture was simultaneously so perfectly authentic and ripely amplified that Taiwo took it for a subtle jibe.
The bastard might not like these warlords, Taiwo thought, so he's going to out-do them at their own game.
The long journey to the galaxy's edge had built an admiration for Scipius in the Rogue Trader – though he had not grown to like the Master of Chapter 333. The Primaris marine was the very symbol of discipline, and that allowed no space for half measures or familiarity beyond that necessary for operations. Taiwo had continued to meet with Scipius during the integration of the Primaris intake with the Gatebreakers; and had watched the Master absorb and take on every element of his new place; memorising the charts, reading the histories, and taking on the culture of the Chapter with an edge that spoke of competition.
Dün had drawn himself up to mirror Scipius' posture. "You have travelled here, bearing strange new technologies; an army to match and swell our own. As is written, Well-met is a brother who bears gifts, and gives them, and asks nothing in return. Yet you do. You ask us not merely to adapt – as we have for millennia – but to change irrevocably." He turned now, appealing to the room. "Already the barbarians from the Core shun the ways that have kept us alive and fighting; attempting to turn hard-won knowledge and personal initiative into rote roles, with slack taken up by new technology, new weapons and new equipment." Dün turned his face from Scipius to Sho, slumped in the skins on the throne. "We are sore-pressed, Master of Masters. But ever was it so. It is the very reason for our presence here; and one harmonious with the Emperor's will as revealed through the Divine Princes. The Gatebreakers have never broken; never will. As the Poet Takanare wrote in the Odes of Gem: It is not the armour around the man; but the heart within him." This last was delivered in flawless Imperial Core Gothic, a clear jibe at Scipius. "In bringing us new blood, Scipius risks replacing our heart."
To his credit, Scipius' face did not stir. Taiwo looked up at Sho, the Chapter's First Master, who sat silently on the dais. The Rogue Trader felt oddly at home. Having lived his life visiting the courts and councils of aliens – many of whom could have killed him on the spot – the potential threat to his life was part and parcel of his existence; a datum to be weighed. The discussions here, for all their theatre, were the mirrors of those he had conducted himself. Like the gathered Masters, he waited to hear the shadowed figure's judgement.
"Hm." Sho grunted. "I have heard enough from my council." He waved fingers to dismiss the staff, but pointed at Taiwo as all save the Astartes began to leave. "You; Rogue Trader. What would you have my Gatebreakers do?"
Not a bit abashed, Taiwo rose from the seat he had been provided, and stepped forward into the pool of moonlight the circular opening in the ceiling allowed.
"Do, Master Sho? Why, I'd have you do what you do best: attack." Sjakpaba and Master Borom slapped their legs in approval, broad grins on both their battered faces. Taiwo stopped himself from smiling as he continued, his tone changing. He picked his words carefully, "From what little I gather, you have shepherded a dying flame for some decades now."
Flicking a glance at Dün, whose measuredly blank expression was a mask, "Given the circumstances, that was a task of great achievement, of course. I mean no insult to any gathered here. But a dwindling flame, however well-tended, will eventually be extinguished."
Yeng spoke up, "This is a wise child, Master Sho." His face, like those of the more bellicose gathered masters, was twisted into a wry grin. "Such children are already men. Should we not arm them; bring them into our circle?"
Taiwo inclined his head in gratitude to Yeng, and gestured to Scipius.
"Scipius, however, is right." Sho tilted his head at this. Shadowed as he was on the throne, whether the shift in attitude was amusement or interest was unclear. "I am a warlord myself, Master Sho. I command a fleet that – with respect – matches your combined fleets in displacement and capability. I know this to be true; for the past year has seen my representatives working alongside the remainder of the Gatebreakers; old and new. I make no threat with this statement; but it is with good reason that Rogue Traders and Space Marines are voluntary allies; not beholden or obliged to one another."
Sho gestured for him to go on as the gathered Masters murmured amongst themselves.
"I do not need to be privy to your war plans, Sho. In truth, I fear such an alloying of your forces and mine would be a brittle result. I will, however, put my vessels at your ease; should you and your forces desire passage. In return, I ask nothing but that access to the worlds of the Edge that are already mine by Imperial fiat."
Out of the corner of his eye, Taiwo saw the old apothecary's grin widen still further. Yeng understood. The Rogue Trader struggled to keep a smug smile from appearing on his own face.
"Hm." Sho's reply was almost like a cough. "Free passage for my warriors; a fleet that – as you so shyly intimate – gives me a second blade to grasp in the defence of this part of the Emperor's Realm. Truly you have poured gold at my feet, Rogue Trader. Between the intake led by Master Scipius; and your clearly thankless devotion to duty" – Sho's voice dripped with irony, and Taiwo made a mock-bow – "I am presented with the means, will and ambition to do more than merely cup my hands around a tallow candle." This was accompanied by an arched eyebrow; though Taiwo thought he detected something ill-hidden beneath the feigned detachment. "With these gifts, I could rekindle a torch in the darkness."
"Hm." The pause lengthened. Taiwo wondered if the warrior or the statesman in Sho would triumph. All eyes were solemn, all trained on the enthroned Master of Masters as he leaned forwards, his sharp features and black eyes appearing from the gloom. Taiwo knew this was the crux.
"Know this, Rogue Trader. A torch burns brightly. It can burn more swiftly, also. Know this also: I have spent many mortal lifetimes as the shepherd you describe. I have also spent a wretched period as a servant of two Masters."
The gathered Gatebreakers shuffled uneasily. Taiwo was, of a sudden, aware that this game had more depths than he had suspected. Sho looked around the room, no longer addressing Taiwo individually, but taking in all his men. His eyes moved from one to another, lingering perhaps a moment longer on Scipius than the others.
"No king of balance and wisdom seeks to stand alone; but justly, he must do so where his strength enables. Such are the demands of duty. We – I – have justified our inaction these past decades through honeyed words: 'the interests of a greater good'; 'when circumstances are auspicious', but in truth, we have lacked a blade sufficient to the task; long since lacked."
Another pause.
"No longer. You offer me the chance to excise this shame, and cast off a most unwelcome yoke." Sho's gaze flicked back to Taiwo. "I accept."
Taiwo held the Master's gaze. Abruptly, Sho looked down. The Rogue Trader did not even see the blade move, but it clattered, horribly loudly, at his feet. Momentarily taken aback, he saw Sho's scabbard sway as it came back to rest against the space marine's side. Taiwo hoped, for an absurd second, that it was merely the incense making him light-headed.
"You have not asked for payment. It is irrelevant. Whatever the cost; however hard to bear; the Gatebreakers will respect our obligations."
Sho moved on, dismissing Taiwo. Before the Rogue Trader had dazedly left the room, ushered by kindly-faced serfs, he heard the Masters erupt in the chamber. The die was cast. Taiwo had got his desire: an Astartes Chapter Master indebted to him
But what had Sho meant? The Master of the Gatebreakers now had, as Taiwo's reckoning, some 1,500 space marines; and a massive fleet at his call. It was an absurd amount of power; straining the spirit of ancient law as much as the letter. It was an extinction force; capable of fully re-manning and reclaiming the Gatebreakers' old territory, with strength left over.
What possible power in the region could hope to match that – let alone, as the Chapter Master's ominous words had hinted, exceed it?
+++
+ More Gatebreakers on the painting table +
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