Bury them with a smile - a Cyrandras Rakash story

[Xin Ceithan]

Deep within Hive Borealis, in the armoured vaults that served as a command center to  the forces of the Maelstrom Dominion,  Cyrandras Rakash was bored beyond belief. 

 

Not that he would allow that to show outwardly. With his arms crossed and his pale, chiseled chin  resting between the armoured thumb and index finger of his right hand in  a classical thinking pose, the Lexicanus was the very model  of the dedicated strategist, immersed in his observations regarding the information  displayed by the hololithic campaign table in front of him. 

 

Not that any information here was  new. Also, the next steps of the campaign were quite obvious and, in fact, already agreed on. 

 

Still, the  situation on display was currently hotly debated by several  individuals around the projection table, over said  table as well as in varying stages of agitation and responding levels of  verbalized noise. 

Appendages were waved, boldly sweeping through wire mesh representations of mountains and fortifications. Fingers  were thrust  aggressively through ghostly images, aiming at enemy positions half a continent away as often as at the faces of opponents only a table length away.  

Any third rate observer would have been able to quickly perceive that, apart from the obvious  military objectives at hand, other battle lines were drawn and besieged here regarding the interest of the various parties at hand. 

Local interests. 

Mortal Interests.  

Factors that, again, had already been factored into the developing situation. 

 

Inwardly, Rakash sighed. 

 

Here was one of the core problems of the Imperium in a nutshell. The Strategium was brimming with mortals. And mortals were so easily distracted and tended to obsess over little details while missing relevant data. They tended to overemphasize their own needs and interests and quarreled over  petty slights with little regard to the bigger picture. 

 

And from such a  more detached,  strategic point of view, the Surngaard campaign was already a success. 

 

The Fortress world provided a major lynchpin in this region of the Maelstrom Zone. Sadly, it's leadership had been found frustratingly fixated on their adherence to the structures of the wider Imperium and thus spectacularly near sighted and even blasé to the worlds around them. Lufgt Huron himself had denounced them as " a densely layered amalgam of ossified  inbred bunker rodent excrements" during an entirely different -and vastly more entertaining - Strategium session Rakash had humbly  accompanied his superiors to some decades ago.  

 

Thus considered unreliable and unwilling with the idea  of forming up with  a more efficiently run  Maelstrom Dominion under the aegis of the Astral Claws, plans had been drawn up and measures put into action long before the current crisis had developed. 

 

Petty mortal short sightedness would not be allowed to hamper the defense of the Tyrant's domain for much longer. 

 

In his function as an Envoy of his  Chapter among the retinue of the Rogue Trader vessel "Retribution of Cygnax", Cyrandras Rakash had been involved in coordinating such efforts on Surngraad as well  as several other worlds at the behest of First Captain Corinne Sumatris for some time now. 

 

The rulers of the Fortress World had developed their siege mentality and adherence to inflexible orthodoxy in the face of the bordering Warp anomaly  long before the Astral Claws and it's current brother chapters had assumed the mantle of Wardenship. 

From their point of view, Rakash assumed, they had stood  and weathered the hordes of xenos, mutants and heretics that had been throwing themselves against their walls for millennia on thru own and so they could, and would, wait out any of the current disputes likewise. 

 

As expected, the ruling Synode of Surngaard had therefore politely refused to accept an invitation  by combined naval and ground forces of the Chapter - who were conveniently resupplying in the system when hostilities broke out elsewhere between the factions  involved in what was now called the "Badab Schism" - to be advised and coordinated by the Astral Claws in defending the Maelstrom Dominion for the duration of the emergency.

 

Of course, the same environment that had  developed that petrified fecal assembly which then drew the ire of the Tyrant had also spurned and ignored the growth of other on planet factions to which  the Astral Claws had then chosen to look into instead.  

 

In any society, there would always be people disillusioned and unhappy with the status quo. Nobles and guildmasters with ambitions above their station. Grizzled veterans who felt their commanders lacked the guts to do “what was necessary”. Experienced officers who had been kept back in favour of  better connected but less talented peers. The overly pious  who felt that their jaded overlords had fallen from the grace of the God Emperor. Centuries old blood feuds and economic clashes constantly bubbling beneath the surface. Untapped Hoards of Anger, of Hope, of Fear were  bottled up beneath the ferro-concrete shell of the Surngraad fortress walls.

 

Exploring, cataloging and exploiting these hidden stratae  of knowledge and opportunities now fell to the Astral Claws Librarius, which had quietly been expanded to encompass these duties.

By Imperial degree, such endeavors would have once been the purview of the Inquisition. 

But as the Chapter became increasingly disappointed as well as distrustful of the Holy Ordos and their  -often conflicting- agendas, the Astral Claws had begun to establish a section of the Librarius dedicated to these task,  unwilling to further rely on external assets for intelligence work in the defense of their realm.

 

A task to which,  much  to his own surprise, Cyrandras Rakash  had taken to with increasing fervor. 

While it often lacked the sheer brutal intensity of a direct confrontation in the more  Codex compliant traditional form of Astartes warfare, Rakash soon learned to appreciate the tension and the thrill of these activities which   could be liked more to  a slowly developing game of Regicide than the  short bouts  of rock, paper, chainsword commonly accompanying the duties of a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes. 

 

His signature smile broadened a bit. 

 

Sealed within the encrypted data mills of his trusty servo-skull were the vox and pict captures attesting to the sheer sense of disbelief displayed by the rulers of Surngraad when  most of their orbital and in-system defense grid along with the  majority of the northern hives had welcomed the Astral Claws with open arms  and  requested their aid in defending the world. 

Those data chunks were of no real value to the war effort. Even so, Cyrandras considered them priceless. 

 

and so, the naval forces of the Maelstrom Dominion now successfully blockaded the system. 

Half the planet had declared their allegiance to the Dominion.

The Fortress World was (mostly) structurally intact and would thus still serve  as a subsector bulwark in the future.  

 

Those that still held to the leash binding them to the Adeptus Terra and their blinded attack dogs were boxed in, unable to lend support the enemies of the Dominion. Total planetary  compliance was, at the moment at least, not really achievable with the resources at hand but neither had it been deemed necessary at this phase of the operation.  

Surngraad had been effectively denied to the enemy.  The Mission was already successful.

 

The current main objective was to uphold this status by keeping their opposition occupied and on the defensive. That was all. 

 

The mortal hotheads arguing around the table might shout and wish or dream otherwise, but it would make little difference. Breaking the lines and achieving a true planet wide compliance would require an amount of additional forces, Astartes forces in particular, that were currently much more urgently needed -and better used- elsewhere. 

 

Case in point, what little advances into enemy territory had still recently been achieved and those forces which  kept the pressure on the imperialist lines were elements of the now so called "Tyrant's Legion" and  owed their success mainly to the transhuman capabilities of the embedded Astartes. 

 

Even so, the bulk of holding the line still fell to the regiments  of the planetary defense force. Mortal forces. And thus forces without direct Legion supervision. At least, for the time being. 

And therefore, appearances had to be maintained.  Mortal  vanities had to be endured. It was irritating, but understandably necessary. 

 

But it wasn't particularly thrilling. 

 

Around the Lexicanus, the mortals kept bickering. Cyrandras allowed his mind to drift, looping it through a routine if mental exercises. One of his favorites involved going through his mental archives and developing interesting deaths for the person under his attention’s focus. The Lexicanus considered himself neither particularly spiteful or murderous nor  particularly cruel. He just considered it a method of examining and updating his personal recollection of data on the people around him  by looking at it through that particular lens. He often set himself different tasks, such as a way to eliminate the person he examined in the most stealthy way , or with the most public exposure, the most or least painful technique involved, and so on. In this way, Rakash considered the exercise both an effective tool to hone his mental facilities as well as entertaining and quite relaxing. 

 

By his count, the Lexicanus  had killed of the entire assembly almost a dozen times since the meeting had been joined. In fact, it was getting a bit too relaxing for his taste. 

 

His eyes moved around and found, then held the gaze of the only other ranked Astartes in the Strategium for a moment. The mental focus shifted. 

 

The massive form of Centurion Ortiz Druz loomed over the quarreling mortals around him, his scarred features apparently unmoved by their  antics. It was easy to see why the stoic Space Maine commanding  the Legion elements involved in the Surngraad liberation had been nicknamed "Vuori" - "the Mountain" by the locals. 

 

Druz was a taciturn commander who excelled at both siege craft and armoured warfare. The Centurion  had repeatedly shown his  skill at using the forces under his command to the upmost of their capabilities and with a cool ruthlessness that would have made a member of vaunted Iron Hands weep oily fluids. 

 

But it didn't take a telepath' s gift to perceive that even that glacial patience was slowly but inevitably coming to an end. Across the room, Rakash realized Ortiz Druz was butchering his way  through a  mental homicidal maze of his own but with a very different approach. And probably a  much more drastic outcome.

 

Delighted by this new angle to the situation, Cyrandras began changing his own mental exercises and turned  his focus towards  predicting the Centurion's most likely target priorities.

 

He was interrupted by an approaching orderly carrying a dataslate. The mortal saluted with  the jerking awkwardness of an over-wound clockwork toy soldier.

 

"Apologies,  my Lord. Urgent transmission from the Retributation of Cygnax" 

the young man whispered. His paleness was of an entirely different hue than that of the Lexicanus'. 

 

Few mortals faced a warrior of the Adeptus Astartes without unease or often outright fear even away from the battlefield. 

Yet unlike some of his brethren -especially those serving with the expanded Legion of Badab - Cyrandras did not particularly enjoy that reaction among the mortals serving along him. Fear might "keep them in line", as some  lost military philosopher of Old Earth was often quoted,  the Lexicanus  had always considered fear    a double edged blade at best. Loose your grip on it and there was no telling who might get cut. Ah, but what about  affection? That was entirely different beast!

 

Rakash nodded and smiled warmly at the orderly, carefully taking the slate from the mortal's shaking hands. 

 

"Jhons , isn't it? I hear your sister is recovering from her injury after the air raid?" 

 

Not that the Librarian actually, particularly, cared for either the mortal  or his kin. But the eidetic memory of his transhuman mind soaked up such detritus almost by accident and Rakash had found using these random snippets eased interactions with mortals by an almost ludicrous degree. The Librarian had taken to keep a record of things important to the people surrounding him for just these occasions.  Even if he lacked the time (or interest) to store these facts away in his mental fastness himself, he would at least keep  the servoskull' s memory coils updated to them.  It was quite amazing what mortals were willing to do when they thought one genuinely cared for them…

 

Fear might indeed  keep the mortal lot in line, but affection made them bind  themselves in chains of adamantium  and then made them  love you even more for it. 

 

And sometimes, in his heart of hearts, Cyrandras wondered if this had been the God-Emperor's intention all along in allowing  the whole mess that was  the  Imperial Creed  to exist in the first place. His smile broadened a bit at the thought of this delightful little heresy. 

 

"Yes, my Lord." 

 

The orderly straightened visibly as he utterly misinterpreted that smile. Changes in heart rate, respiration, perspiration and pheromone levels indicated a switch from fear to expectant anxiety as the mortal was recognized by one of the Emperor's  own Angels. "And yes, she... I mean.. Yes, my Lord! My sister..."

 

Cyrandras nodded politely and then pushed the mortal's drowning from his active attention. He would sift through the audio recordings of  his servo skull later, in case there was a significant morsel of information contained within the orderly' s rambling. 

 

Scrolling down the volumes of text on the slate, the Lexicanus noted a set of cyphers hidden within the avalanche of  reports that continuously kept pouring in during an operation of this scale. He  then raised the slate slightly, breathing over it before rubbing off some imaginary flecks of dust. He made sure to include just the right amount of spittle in this to activate the gen-sensitive  lock  keyed to the pad. The text on the  slate's screen twitched twice, fussed, pixelated,  the images blurring. 

Rakash tapped his armoured index finger to screen to display his irritation, then shook the device slightly until  it resumed it's proper function moments later. He then took his time to finish reading  the regular files for some time. Rakash then returned the slate to the orderly, still smiling. 

 

"Thank you, Jhons . Carry on. And give my regards to your sister. The Emperor protects". 

 

The orderly saluted sharply and strode of as if he had been just called into service by the God Emperor himself. 

In Cyrandras mind, the mortal practically ceased to exist the moment he turned away and returned to his thinking pose. Any information regarding the man was flushed away to the vaults on the outskirts of his his mind. The Librarian closed his eyes, as if to better focus on the information he had just received.

 

In reality, the Lexicanus instead retrieved the glitched images from his mental archives. These “glitches” had been just fragments, visible for only for the briefest fracture of a second, but the code cypher had given the Librarian time to prepare his focus and now, in Cyrandras mind,  he could perceive the hidden message like a still frame from a patchy pict recording. New Orders. And.. a summoning? 

 

The First Captain had recalled him  to Badab Primaris  to receive instructions for another operation. The nature of this operation was obviously not included into  a summons via astropath, even one coded and hidden away in megapulses of less sensitive campaign data. 

So this operation was probably of a more... delicate.. nature. 

Interesting. 

And, hopefully, more entertaining than his current positing.

 

Eyes still closed, the Librarian subvocalized a coded phrase hidden in a litany of dedication to the God Emperor, which his ever present servoskull picked up promptly and relayed to his Chapter serfs who were right now busy elsewhere inside the vast polar fortress. 

Upon  receiving the code phrases, they would immediately begin  preparations for  his departure. 

Patience was not a virtue often attributed to the the First Captain. 

Other matters would have to be settled after the current session in the Strategium was closed, though. Agents would have to be contacted and their operations  adjusted to his absence. Redundancies were in place of course, but up to now, Cyrandras had expected he’d be overseeing on-world operations for some time as the siege continued. Now, they would have to be transferred to other handlers and Rakash had to ensure that operations would smoothly continue  after his departure. But the Librarian did not expect that to cause any real delay. 

 

Rakash also had no doubt that Centurion Druz would soon receive an astropathical dispatch shortly via more official lines of communicatio in which the redeployment of the Lexicanus would be requested along the proper chain of command. The forms had to observed, after all. But it  would probably be linked to a vastly  less conspicuous endeavor. The Defenders of the Maelstrom did not suffer from a shortage of enemies at this point. Making it  seem as if having already begun  preparations because of an  " insight gained from  meditating on the  current state of the war and it's reflection in the Warp" was a nice touch to keep up his reputation before leaving. 

 

Cyrandras Rakash was no longer bored.  He opened his eyes. 

Across the table, the mortals were still arguing, but the  Lexicanus no longer cared. He would wrap up his operations here shortly and was eager to  answer the call to a new challenge elsewhere. His smile became a bit more loop sided. One could surely say a lot about First Captain Sumatris. And a lot of it would properly not be nice. But whatever Sumatris was intending for him to participate in, it would certainly be challenging. And, most certainly, not even remotely boring.....

[Xin Ceithan]

This is the character introduction piece that wrote as set up for Rakash to introduce the character for the Badab War Killteam PBP campaign. 

My idea was both to provide a hint at some of the less … orthodox…personality  traits opposed to the ones you commonly see in the description of loyal Space Marines and as well as providing a bit of a foil to the more grim /  combat focused characters conceived for that series. 

Also, while I did want these traits to put some flaws  and cracks into the character that could provide an entry point for the Ruinous Powers, I also wanted him to be loyal to the Wardens of the Maelstrom and sincere in the belief that the succession of the “Badab Dominion” was a necessary and more efficient way to uphold the duties of the Wardens. There is very much the idea here of paving the way to come with good intentions…

It’s certainly a character  I’d like to get back to - I guess there are more ways in a narrative set up like this to include more intrigue / espionage type characters or stories than the traditional Deathwatch RPG set up and it is not something that I have seen used much around Astartes Characters in general. 
 

 

 

[Mazer Rackham]

Nice!

It certainly feels refreshing to me at least. A complicated and fleshed out character with a 3k word intro!

Rakash is a bloody schemer and a half, well in the mould of a later Blackheart.

Definitely Antagonist material, and with this insight and his character post could certainly fill the role of a villain if you wanted to expand into some larger work. I particularly liked your vocabulary choices and wordplay, the writing is tight, and the images clear.

Great piece, if I may say.