Warhammer 40k : Space Marine Kayvaan

"How could I forget?"

"The root cause of this mess has been confirmed: a leak within the Far Eastern Conclave. Classified information was compromised, exposing the identities of numerous inquisitor and resulting in their deaths. How else could the Eldar have assassinated us so easily, or targeted our key military facilities so effectively? The damage was far-reaching, leaving us at a disadvantage on every front—military and intelligence alike. We've been scrambling ever since, always a step behind."

Elizabeth felt a knot tighten in her stomach. "And you think the Istvanians were behind the leak?"

"I don't think—I know," Randall said, his tone unwavering. "Five years ago, during the operation to secure Eden V, the Istvanians were already pulling the strings. They leaked our information to the Eldar to provoke conflict. Why? Because they wanted a war. To them, pitting us against the Alaitoc Eldar was a necessary step toward their vision of human glory."

Elizabeth's fists clenched. "You're saying this war was orchestrated by our own people?"

"Yes. The Istvanians turned us into a vulnerable target, leaving us exposed. The Eldar didn't just stumble upon our secrets—they were handed to them. And now, our greatest enemy isn't the Eldar—it's the Istvanians hiding within our ranks."

Elizabeth was silent, absorbing the weight of his words. After a moment, she said quietly, "So you're saying we forget about Kayvaan for now?"

"Yes," Randall said. "Kayvaan can wait. Right now, we need to focus on dealing with the real threat." Randall paused, then shifted gears. "By the way, Elizabeth, this isn't your first encounter with a daemon. Don't you find it odd that we keep trying to eliminate them? You can't kill a daemon in the truest sense. At best, we banish them. If that's the case, what's the point of all our efforts?"

Elizabeth frowned. "That's a flawed way of looking at it. Just because you're always hungry doesn't mean you stop eating."

Randall chuckled. "Fair enough. But consider this: Why not use daemons to serve us? The Imperium already relies on the Warp for navigation, despite its inherent dangers. Early nuclear energy was the same—risky, volatile, capable of disaster. But humanity learned to harness it for progress. Couldn't the same be true for Chaos?"

Elizabeth recoiled slightly. "That's… preposterous. The power of Chaos isn't something we can control. It's far too dangerous."

"An ancient man, Zaranchiko Santos, was an inquisitor mentor from the 32nd Millennium," Randall began. "He was the first to propose this concept. Of course, this mentor was later accused of worshipping the Chaos Gods and was burned at the stake by his fellow inquisitors. Despite his protests of innocence, he met his end in flames. While I approach his views with caution, there is a kernel of logic to them." 

Randall leaned back, his voice taking on a reflective tone. "Think about it. We already use Chaos. The Warp allows us to navigate vast distances, psykers serve the Imperium faithfully, and interstellar communication depends on this very power. If we can harness the Warp for such critical purposes, why not Chaos itself? Guns aren't inherently evil—it's the hands that wield them that determine their morality."

Elizabeth frowned, staring at the wine bottle in her hand. "Humanity is like a child, and Chaos is far too dangerous a weapon for children to wield. We're not capable of controlling such power."

Randall smiled faintly. "But could some individuals manage it? Someone like you—a warrior trained rigorously, tested by fire, and possessing an unyielding will. You already control your psychic abilities with ease."

"I… I don't know," Elizabeth admitted, her voice uncertain. Her gaze remained fixed on the bottle, and after a moment of silence, she asked, "Why are you telling me this?"

Randall waved a hand dismissively. "Just idle conversation. Forget it. For now, avoid the Conclave offices and don't come near mine. Meet me at Secret Point Three—I'll reset the codes and grant you access to the facilities there. I'll also provide you with detailed information about the Istvanian faction. The enemy this time is within the Conclave itself, so tread carefully."

"I understand."

"Good. Now, what are you waiting for? Hoping for an invitation to dinner? Get going—I've got work to do."

Elizabeth stood, bottle in hand, and began heading toward the door. As she reached it, Randall's voice stopped her. "By the way, you haven't shown that report to anyone else, have you?"

Elizabeth turned, her expression mildly annoyed. "Of course not. I'm not an idiot. I know the rules—confidential documents don't get shared."

"Does anyone else know about the contents?"

"No," she replied firmly.

"Good," Randall said, nodding. "Keep it that way. Don't mention the report to anyone without direct orders. Now go."

Elizabeth left, her footsteps fading down the corridor. Once he was sure she was gone, Randall exhaled deeply, reached into his desk drawer, and pulled out the report. For half an hour, he marked and annotated it meticulously. Then, retrieving a psychic scanner, he swept the room, ensuring Elizabeth hadn't hidden herself using her abilities. Satisfied, he closed the curtains, checked the hallway, and dialed a special number on his desk phone. "Master Edward?" Randall said, his tone suddenly formal. "It's Randall. I have something extraordinary that needs your attention. It's too sensitive to transport, so I need you to come here. Yes, it's urgent."

After hanging up, Randall retrieved a bottle of wine from his office's hidden cabinet, uncorked it, and took a long swig straight from the bottle. The warmth steadied him. A knock came at the door. Three precise taps. Randall crossed the room in three quick strides, straightening his robes before opening the door.

A towering figure entered, standing at least 2.3 meters tall. The man was clad in a black robe adorned with gold and silver crosses, esoteric runes embroidered in dark silk threading through the fabric. His stern face was framed by a golden psychic headband, his mouth lined with steel dentures that gleamed as he spoke. "Randall, you know my time is precious. I hope this is worth it," Master Edward Jenner said.

"It will be," Randall assured him, handing over Elizabeth's report. "This is something you need to see."

Edward began flipping through the report dismissively at first, but his casual demeanor quickly shifted. His hands started to tremble as he delved deeper into the pages. "Holy Emperor on Terra," Edward muttered, pacing the room as he read. "If this is true, this is a blessing for humanity—a breakthrough we've long awaited in the Xanthism faction. This could be the opportunity we've needed."

Edward paused, visibly struggling to contain his excitement. After a moment, he exhaled deeply, his tone steadying. "I must see Chapter Master Kayvaan myself. I need to confirm this report with my own eyes. Who else knows about this?"

"Only the one who submitted the report—Inquisitor Elizabeth," Randall replied.

"Elizabeth? Who is she? Never mind—that's irrelevant. Which faction does she belong to?"

Randall shrugged. "None. She's unaffiliated."

Edward frowned, a trace of disbelief crossing his face. "Unaffiliated? Impossible. Every inquisitor has their own beliefs and opinions. And as soon as they have opinions, they align with factions. No one is truly neutral in the Conclave."