40 Thousand Reasons

My two capital ships and the corvettes kept bombarding the rift for an hour until it closed.

Of course, we could have sent a Sister for the same effect, but the floor of the Webway was crawling in demons and Drukhari and Mandrakes and all kinds of exotic or dangerous creatures. I mean, their personal weapons were rated to shred an armored tank, so risking a precious Blank, even in power armor, wasn't an option for me.

Instead, I headed towards the biolab, flanked by my Angels and two Apothecaries from the Lamenters.

Khan was waking up and screaming his lungs out.

Probably in need of more combat drugs of Dark Eldar make. Must have made someone a lot of revenue with this simplistic look at the world.

"Release me at once!" the Primarch shouted and struggled against his adamantium binders, just when I entered the lab.

"Next time he screams, punch his throat. Perhaps later, we can fuse his jaws and remove his vocal cords? It's not like he has anything wise to say." I asked from the Juggler, who clicked his scalpels in anticipation.

"Of course, Captain. Such beasts are better used to pull plows." the Mechanicus Magos replied in a wry tone.

"You are Astartes? What Legion?" the Primarch demanded in a command voice.

"One of those legions who kept their duty, unlike you, Primarch Khan. You abandoned your Emperor given duty, and now it is my right to pass sentence. Do you deny the charges?" I ask in a pleasant voice and hold my hand to my right, where an Apothecary is carrying the blade of Office, a relic called Glaive Encarmine.

It is quite heavy, the blade and my duty.

"You would execute a Primarch?" the guy yells in surprise then chokes as Juggler taps his neck gently with a mechadendrite.

"I've killed a Primarch before, one named Lorgar. What's such a big deal? Anyway, respond to the question! For the charges of dereliction of duty, how do you reply?" I demand in a sterner voice, blade gleaming in my hands.

A few seconds pass, as lucidity in face of certain death appears in his eyes. The man sighs and lowers his head in remorse." Guilty as charged. My Legion...the Chapter now. I abandoned them, to pursue vengeance."

Well then, perhaps death is not the best punishment, if the accused can be redeemed. I return the weapon to the Apothecary, and step closer.

"I wasn't asking about one Chapter, Primarch Khan. You are an Astartes, and your duty is to defend humanity. As a Primarch, you were given authority over the Imperium, because these naive idiots needed someone to direct them wisely.

And what wisdom will they find, in your actions? A beastly gladiator, pumped full of Dark Eldar combat stimulants? Howling at the ceiling, like a raging beast?" I ask rhetorically, as I gesture at my Juggler to release the thick adamantium shackles, binding the brute to the operating table.

"I...wasn't thinking straight." the giant mutters as stands up, and rubs his wrists.

"Ludvaius, stay with the idiot and teach him the Canticle of Unceasing Service. One thousand repetitions in solitary confinement, afterwards. I'll have to think for an appropriate penance, in the meantime. " I demand gruffly as I turn away and leave the lab. Fidelia runs after me and holds my hand for comfort.

As I return to the bridge with the elevator, Rafen checks me over in admiration and perhaps worry. "You were ready to slice his head off, just like that. An Emperor-given Primarch!" he says in a tight voice.

"We are in the Webway now, Astartes Rafen. Here, I speak with the Voice of the Emperor, as I do anywhere outside the Imperium. As for Primarchs, in my eyes they are all guilty. Abandoning their duty is a capital crime for any Astartes, correct?"

I explain in a grave voice.

Rafen nods slowly, as he reasons the Imperial law and the facts of the matter in his mind. "Primarch Khan will not forget this day, Captain." the Veteran Astartes mused to himself, and perhaps as a tangential warning.

"He better not! Next time Khan goes astray, I will not spare his life." I say harshly and then draw Fidelia into a side hug, since she seems a bit overwhelmed by the events.

My Apothecaries are also quite confused, as the events are a bit beyond them. "Let's hope the lost Primarch will regain his sanity with the Canticle. It works wonders for the Lamenters, just like you have promised, Master Lancefire." one of them says in a hopeful tone.

I couldn't do much for the remaining Lamenters of the older generation, but try to fortify their corrupted minds with the Canticle, and avoid sending them into melee combat.

The experienced Lamenters will be needed for a time, as teachers and instructors for the new generation getting implanted right now.

In a few decades, perhaps use them in a last stand somewhere, to defend a bastion of humanity, and erase the Warp curse completely, with their blood.

Pay another gene-tithe maybe, with their corpses. The Emperor would approve, like he always did. But if not, He could always say something, or send me an Angel.

My next target shall be the Ultramarines and the Dark Angels, gifting them a few Companies of Blank sons, to prevent their manipulation by Warp-using pyskers and Chaos forces.

Wouldn't be as easy to convince these Chapters, unless I had a Primarch by my side.

More Bone staffs will be needed, as mind-shields against C'tan or other empathic users. Sadly, Blank powers were not perfect, and various mind abilities were not restricted to psykers. Even the Tau Ethereals had some type of empathic powers, and they were Blank themselves.

The Navigators themselves were proof of this, some of them being able to cover a ship in a self-made Gellar field, and protect their passengers through the Warp when the generators failed.

I could also try to repurpose a Null_Rod for this staff, and give Warp and mental protections to Chapter Masters. I only found a couple though, even in the vast treasuries of the Dark Eldar. Must be pretty rare indeed.

But surely, some old and experienced artificiers or Mechanicus tech-priests must know how to make more. Lack of reason was still rampant in the Imperium though, and such artifacts were not common place among Generals or Admirals or even Chapter Masters. Possibly the Inquisition itself was suppressing their manufacture, for their own purpose. Most likely to maintain their secular power over the Imperium, as the only demon or psyker hunters.

"Where to now, Captain?" my X.O. aunt asks as I return to my Captain seat.

"We continue onwards. There are dozens more dimensions and sub-sections of the Commorragh, and billions more dark creatures to exterminate. It would be a pity to return home without spending the torpedoes." I explain patiently and urge the Serenity towards the direction I've seen Lady Malys flee.

We cross into the quarter named the Sprawls and begin bombarding the pitiful refugees fleeing from our raid, while I rescue millions of slaves and thousands of precious artifacts. Tyranids are hounding at the heels of these Parched, poor Drukhari fallen from grace, or luckier Wyches and Incubi who were faster at running away. Not fast enough, obviously.

From here, we scout a dozen more portals, one leading to the still burning Port Carmine. I pick the next route, which leads to River_Khaides. A green river crosses this quarter, bubbling with green pollution and filled with drifting corpses.

Another portal leads to a smaller section called the Pandaimon, where another small army lies in ambush. They have more ships and Pain Engines and a million warbeasts.

I do confiscate a couple battleships and a score of cruisers, just to fill the ranks with my Dark Eldar collection. Not sure how I will control all these xenos, but the Drukhari battleships can surely be plated in plasteel and adamantium to give them an Imperial look, then have warp-less engines installed on them. Big hulls are hard to build for any race, and this would provide me with a segmentum-large battlefleet once they are refitted for human usage.

The treasuries of the Thornlords were all filled with gems and gold and countless weapons, even a dozen STCs in bad repair. This is the greatest find, for myself. Not fake STCs like I make, but actually real relics from the Dark Age.

Astartes armor in old patterns, anti-grav speeders with strange laser cannons, even some curious floating tanks painted in silver-grey patterns. Those might be Silent Sister vehicles, I suspect.

Plenty slaves to rescue as well, so I get a collection of a hundred alien species in my labyrinth, from spiders to worms and mollusks and cyborg monkeys. I even find a dozen Blanks among the millions of humans, which is curious.

What use would the Dark Eldar have for Blanks? Well, beside researching how to secure their souls from Slaanesh.

However, the defenders are resisting the attacks well, even after their shields collapse under a stream of torpedoes and lances.

Well, I don't actually need to fight them head on. I deposit a couple Tyranid bioships on top of them, then turn the fleet around as the Thornlords' troops are forced to engage the hungry tyranids.

Meanwhile, I prime another Exterminatus and engulf the cave in fiery screams and melting brimstone just as we leave. Another excellent plunder dimension.

There should be more though.

We turn back and enter a place called Nightsound Ghulen, an underdark city filled with pain and misery. I fail to find anything to loot here, but I exterminate the place anyway. Nothing shall remain to come back for.

Then we pass through another portal and reach a shadow filled dimension, crawling with Mandrakes and other shadow creatures. Must be the Aelindrach, if my lore is correct. I can't actually grab anything, as objects seem out of phase.

Lasers still set fires, so that's enough for me. We bombard the place with plasma and lances, and then scour the mists with the Exterminatus grade incendiary.

I'm not sure how the Mechanicus makes this beauties, but everything burns, from shadow spiders and their silk, to monstruous Mandrakes covered in black shadows. It is true, fire is the great equalizer.

Then we pass through Seyahmva'ar, a sort of fortress and taxation district, and collect the last of the kidnapped slaves, and their bounties, while we demolish the defenses with another barrage of torpedoes and lances.

I rescue thousands of women from Adepta Sororitas, not all from militant orders, hundreds of Imperial priests and Nobles, some Navigators and astropaths, and a million guardsmen of a hundred regiments, not all of them salvageable.

Sure more Catachans will be great, and even Cadians or Valhalans. They probably only lost due to poor equipment and retarded leadership.

And then we stumble on the most fortified sector on the Commorragh, called Khaine's_Gate. I doubt the Avatar of Khaine will want me to ruin his namesake. Plus, there should be a gate into the Warp at the end of this cavern.

However, among the defending troops, I scout another Archon Vect, looking a bit terrified, despite all the bodyguards and prepared defenses.

I grab him from among a troupe of Harlequins, and all his court and courtiers.

"I hear pounding, Captain. Like something is trying to break inside the Webway." Chaplain Delos announces as his eyes start bleeding.

"Alena, pat the Chaplain's head while he recites the Canticle." I command as I lean on my bone staff and reach towards the nicest dressed Harlequin.

"You defend the Khaine Gate, from She-who-Thirsts?" I ask to make sure.

"We are, human from outside the play." the creature answers in a painful voice, like a million screeching sounds mingle in my mind.

"For this duty, you will be spared. Khaine himself is here, having fun with some big demon. So long, and see you at the End of times!" I proclaim in a fake cheer, then turn the fleet around.

No point destroying the place and letting the Warp infest the Webway, and thus flood thousands of worlds with streams of demons.

As we trace our course back, we massacre millions of fleeing Dark Eldar that have escaped our pogrom, and millions of Tyranids chasing after them.

Uh, I might have messed things up a little...