CW: There's some attempted suicide (none successful.) Also, uh, mind control? Lots of mind/emotion control? But you were already here for that...
Shexia stood in her office, looking at the corpse of the man she had fought beside for years, and felt an almost giddy, nearly hysteric giggle trying to crawl up her throat as the realization hit her. The singular thought in her head, the one that crowded out everything else? It was too absurd to even...to even...
She slumped against her desk, flecked in blood, and put her hand over her face. She closed her eyes, her mind reaching out.
Yolanda, she said.
I killed Lot.
The sound of Yolanda's shock was like chimes tinkling in the wind - she didn't even have the ability to form words with their psyker link. And so, into the silence, like a groxhund in heat in a potteria emporium, Shexia's voice continued:
And the first real thought I have is will this piss you off, or will you be happy? I...I am so pathetic! I'm an interrogator of his majesty's holy inquisition, for decades, I've been his blade in the darkness and what, two weeks of your body in my bed and your xenoheresy in my womb and I'm already a giddy teenager whose kissed her first boy, just, absolutely pathetic. And here, right now, I'm desperately hoping you find pathetic appealing, I can debase myself even more for you, I-
Shexi, my love, you are panicking.
I am not panicking, I'm merely hysteric! Shexia thought.
I killed Lot, and I'd do it again for you, I am damned. Does that make you happy?
The feeling of Yolanda reached across space and time, and through a gentle plucking of nerves in Shexia's brain made her feel as if Yolanda's familiar hands were on her shoulders, ghostlike sensations that centered her body in the here and now. Softly, Yolanda whispered.
Focus.
Shexia closed her eyes. She could fall to pieces in Yolanda's arms later. She could be put back together again, piece by piece. Right now, she needed to focus. But the only options were...were...the image of the first loomed in her mind. She had skirted around it - part of her had deluded herself that she could just...put cultists in the group and...and what? Shexia, you fool, you knew what they were for. But she was an interrogator. She was...she was. She rubbed her temples.
You are going to betray everyone you've ever worked for, she thought.
And it felt good.
It felt sweet.
Yolanda once kissed a chocolate into her mouth after rubbing it in the slick-sweetness that the Pure could sometimes sweat, and the sinful flavor of it had burned down her throat and she had gotten a nearly obscura level high - a high she had only ever experienced when skimming the surface thoughts of debased nobles during her investigations.
That was what betrayal tasted like. She waved her hand and a biomantic quiver of energy spurted from her fingertips. The statue of the Emperor in her room began to bleed from the empty, gaping holes of his skeletal face. Tears of red dripped down his bony chin as Lot's body twitched, convulsed, quivered, and bubbled into a frothing white slime, which spread across the carpet, then vanished away, curling up in smoke until there was nothing but the clothing, which she kicked under her desk, and the inferno pistol, which she aimed at her window, fired with a fierce
VROOM, and then tossed into her closet.
Then she picked up her vox and contacted Lot's underlings - Mirran, Kalar, and Vortis. She had served with each for nearly as long as Lot, and knew them just as well.
"Report to my offices...I have some bad news," she said. "And bring the Sage."
Soon, the four were in her office. Her back was to them as she faced a broken window, and her voice was grim as she spoke. "Lot tried to kill me. I missed with my needler, dodged his inferno pistol shot, and then he was out the window."
"What?" Mirran asked.
"Hmm, possibilities-"
"Xenoheresy," Shexia said, turning to face them. "Has anyone else noticed Lot going missing? Quiet from time to time?"
"...yes..." Mirran said, while Kalar nodded.
Knew it. Shexia thought. Lot had been quiet, reserved, and clever for a man whose only job was to pull a trigger and morosely predict doom. He had to have investigated and kept things close to his vest - and now she was going to use it to smear his memory. The idea made her almost giddy. She nearly laughed. INstead, she turned her lips into a frown. "During that time, I believe he was infested by the genestealers. They're still here. Everything so far, the Marks, the Malevolent, it's all been a feint, to protect the survivors of the cult. But with Lot's failure to kill me and, I presume, lead the rest of you in an ambush, we can turn the tables on them. I've traced his mental signature - prepare the squads, and bring our ship into low orbit. We're going to plant a locator beacon and burn the cult with a lance."
"Sounds good, ma'am!" Mirran said, her voice grim. At a nod, she and the other two turned to go, while Annalese frowned and cocked her head.
"Annalese, I need to go over our plans," Shexia said, walking over to close the door as the other three left.
"There's some logical inconsistencies with your story, Interrogator," Annalese said, her voice bemused as she cocked her head, her fingers tapping together before her chest. Her blond hair shimmered in the lumens of the room as Shexia's quivering finger found the deadbolt and threw it, her other hand touching - very gently - the sonic muffler generator that privated her room from evesdroopers. The soft whirr of the muffler coming on was barely perceptible to her. Annalese continued, turning to face her. "For one thing - why would Lot try and kill you without subverting his followers first? They'd be far easier to get alone than you. And...you know as well as I how ineffective a lance shot would be on this kind of infestation."
"Annalese, you, as always, have such wise council," Shexia said, turning to face her, her heart lumping in her chest.
It was strange, what...things held, long after the others. She had lain with the enemy. She had been knocked up by a cultist. She, even know, had a genesteal hybrid inside her womb, waiting to be born. Her brain was awash with the hormones and psychic impressions that the creatures used to secure loyalty and allegiance. Her own feelings towards the Emperor and the Inquisition had been so...twisted and distorted by the truth and these feelings that being in the same room as a symbol of her old faith made Shexia want to tear it to pieces. And yet, there was a deep and abiding stricture within the school of biomancy, as taught to imperial psykers.
Thou shalt not make thy form in the likeness of a xeno.
Polymorphine and the Assassins who partook of it sometimes took Eldar or even T'au form - and those specialists were trained from birth to endure the vileness of it. The average psyker? Even the less-than-average psyker who was taken into the Inquisition?
Never.
Shexia nearly didn't do it.
She stood there, watching as Annalese said. "The cumulative signs point...to you as the traitor. Not Lot." She paused. "Interrogator, I believe I have to kill you." She darted her hand into her robes - and drew a sleek autopistol, the kind she wore for last ditched situations like this. Shexia caught her wrist, shoved her arm back against the wall, pinning the shocked, blond sage there, her eyes wide behind her glasses. The muffler turned the gunshots that put holes in the ceiling into a kind of strange, half-noise, edging along perception like fingers on chalkboards. Annalese squirmed as Shexia opened her mouth...
And the long, sleek, purple tongue of a purestrain genestealer unrolled from her mouth.
"Oh n-nghh!" Annalese grunted as the tongue forced its way past her mouth. Shexia hissed as she felt Annalese's teeth bite into her - but the warm rush of pleasure-drugs that the Pure emitted during such a moment coated the sage's mouth and palette. Annalese's pale skin glistened with sweat, her face going as red as her robes as she squirmed, struggling. Her teeth rasped against the tongue as it forced its way down and down and down, deep into her throat, into her body. Shexia pressed herself in close, breasts to breast, cocking her head as she leaned in close and kissed her sage, her precious sage. She closed her eyes to slits, watching intently as Annalese's eyes went unfocused...then slowly rolled back into her head. Her back arched and her body trembled as the implantation went off with a quiet
click in Shexia's head.
To think...I hesitated... Shexia thought as she drew her tongue back and back and back, stepping away to slather a glistening, faintly purple smear along Annalese's cheek, leaving her tingling with more pleasure drugs. Annalese coughed as Shexia watched her intently, her tongue shifting to human with a slow tingle.
"O...Oh...oh dear..." Annalese gasped, falling to her knees, her eyes closing, her face flushed. "I am infested with xenoheresy. T-The...the only...logical..." She reached up and planted her autopistol against her temple. "I...I..."
"Don't," Shexia whispered.
"You infested me," Annalese whispered. "E-everything I was taught. I...I...I need..." She bit her lip. "T-There's going to be a...a genestealer baby in me...if I..."
Shexia took her other hand, gently, then placed it on her own belly.
"I'm already pregnant," she whispered, softly. She opened her mind to the three minds of Annalese - and felt that it was not Anna or Lesi that were in control now. This was entirely Essa, the one who loved war and all its machinery. She was struggling against her sisters-in-thought, who were delighting in the new rush of sensations, the new possibilities to learn. Gently, Shexia let Essa feel the warm satisfaction of having a child growing in her. A genestealer. A xenoabomination. The future.
"I-I..." Essa whispered. "Oh Emperor..." Her hand lowered, the pistol barrel touching the floor. "F-Forgive..." She panted. 'Fo...Fuc...fuck me...fuck me, fuck me fuck me, please oh fuck me!" She leaned against the floor, nuzzling against Shexia's foot. "I'm so sorry I ever thought of betraying you, my Shexia, oh...I...I feel like I'm...burning up inside...I...ah!"
"We need Annalese now," Shexia, whispered, kneeling down. "I can help you still it, if-"
"Mm, no!" Annalese said, then stood. "My name is Xennalese now. Xeria will handle the fetish aspect of the cult." She said, primly, brushing her hair flat and straight. "She is quite depraved, but highly skilled. She is extrapolating the best and most effective way to bring you bliss and pleasure during the breeding orgy - but while she does so, I am ready to sabotage our fellows. Will they be kissed as well?"
Shexia blinked. Then she shook her head. "Ana...Xennalese, you are a remarkable woman."
"I am four remarkable women, but yes, quite," Xennalese said. "How are we going to handle the ship?"
"It's in low orbit, can you find a way to get shuttles to it without them being noticed by the PDF or the ship herself?" Shexia asked.
"It will be difficult," Xennalese said, thinking intently, frowning as Essa and Lise compared mental notes. A minute passed. Then two. Shexia crossed her arms over her chest - waiting. If a third-
"Done," Xennalese said, nodding and smiling thinly.
"Ah, you still haven't broken your record then," Shexia said, her voice wry.
"I am sure i will some day," Xennalese said, shrugging. "I know I will be breaking the record for number and size of penises I have both sucked and fucked, but that is quite easy as I was a virgin. Did you know I was asexual? Well, not any more. I am not sure if I should be furious about the violation of my sexual autonomy, or delighted at the new realms of experience opened to me. I believe I shall swing wildly through both emotional spectra. I think Anna will handle most of that, she is the most religious of the four of us." She rubbed her chin. "Though, to think I'm almost more offended at the change to my sexuality than to the fact you have planted within me the seed of a xenoheresy so vile it has destroyed many planets. I-"
Shexia snapped her fingers before Xennalese's nose. The Sage blinked. "Oh, sorry. Focused again."
***
Ophelia remained crouched behind the cover and tried to still her breathing. One of her mates had his clawed hand on her back, comforting her with strokes, his touch as warm and as comforting as...well, the nobles felt the kiss of the sun. She tried to imagine it sometimes, but never quite could. The webber she was holding was a blocky, chunky weapon - one of the many that had been siphoned from riot response gear, and never used. The entire cult's force of arms were in this moment, right now, aimed at three corridors that led through the outer mines of the Pits and towards...
Well.
It wasn't actually cultic ground. It was just an area that could have been cultic ground, had different choices been made far earlier in the cult's history.
And now, it was filling with stormtroopers. The elite forces of the Inquisition, picked and chosen, being led by several of the most brave men and women that Ophelia knew. Those were the least touched by the cult - those who had been kissed recently, or who were in one of the gap generations where the touch of the Star Children showed thinly, if at all.
One of them was Tent. The former Skavz ganger was an enthusiastic cultist now, after her Kissing and her impregnation. She wasn't showing, her slip thin figure hinting at her future only by a slight swelling of her breasts. And right now, her voice - faint and whispering - could be heard. "Hold up, I think I heard something."
It was the sign.
Ophelia, her heart in her throat, thumbed down on the trigger. The chaff grenades that they had planted blew at once with a series of soft
whuff-hiss noises. The thick smoke did two things at once. First, it blinded the entire corridor set. And secondly, it dimmed the fury of the hellguns they were carrying. It would depend on distance and angle of impact, but it could turn some killing shots into merely wounding ones. The stormtroopers started firing almost immediately - their beams bright blue and visible in the thick, soupy clouds of blackness. Ophelia, her heart in her throat, aimed at one such beam and fired. The webber chuffed softly as the gloppy net expanded midair and slapped into someone, who swore loudly.
Her lover flowed out, as swift as a shadow, as glorious as an angel. The figure let out a strangled scream - muffled, then. Ophelia yelped as a sizzling bolt slammed into the wall above her head. She fired again and again, trying to aim at the sources of the beams. She heard more screams, and a woman shouting -
Oh Emperor, no! Fuck! No-nngh...gll...gluck! - and more thumping of webbers. There was a sharp
crack and a flare of orange, then more screams. The stink of blood and cordite. A single screech - an angelic voice, rising in pain, then silence.
Then...
The clouds of chaff started to drift away.
The ground was littered with bodies. Most of them were webbed, though a few were squirming out of the webbing. Many were stormtroopers. But some were her fellow cultists, their eyes wide and stairing, their bodies ripped apart by frag grenades or hellfire beams. Tent, her face shockingly pale, clutched her thigh, blood pouring between her fingers as she lay propped up next to a burly stormtrooper, whose knife had fallen to the ground and whose face was captured in a lingering kiss by a male Pure, who held him to the ground. Ophelia scrambled to her sister, whipping her bely off.
"Looks like we gottem..." Tent whispered, her eyes half closed as her face went more and more pale.
Ophelia swept the belt around her thigh, but before she could tie it off, she saw that the blood wasn't flowing anymore. Tent's smile remained - but her eyes looked into infinity.
Ophelia's hands went limp.
"Frak!"
She turned. The stormtrooper who had slit open Tent and bled her sister to death like a grox in the slaughterhouse was coughing, rubbing his throat. His face, olive brown and scarred, was grim and set as he reached down, drew his pistol, and started to move it towards his head. He didn't get it halfway before hesitating. Ophelia felt...an all too human impulse.
Tell him to do it. He killed my Sister.
Ophelia felt shame. Her fingers reached out, and she gently took the laspistol and pulled it from his hands. "No," she said, softly. "I forgive you. You were...stormtroopers are taken from creches, before they even have names. Orphan soldiers, trained from birth to serve inquisitors." She crawled atop him, her hands on his shoulders, looking into his eyes. "You're free now."
"I...I'm...tainted..." he whispered, confused.
A soft moan filled the air. Next to her, a female stormtrooper, her hands desperately yanking her carapace armor pants down, had managed to expose just enough of her body that a Orrin, one of Ophelia's fellow cultists, could bury her face between her cheeks. "W-Why am I doing this?" the stormtrooper moaned, her back arching.
"You're purified now," Ophelia fumbled at the straps. The anger inside of her dimmed, then brightened as she felt the warm pressure of Xandra's mind and hers connecting. The moment they needed now was what came after the battles and the death. They needed it. They
needed each other. The Stormtrooper, his arms still webbed up, squirmed as Ophelia frantically yanked her flak vest off, tossing it aside, then pulled her tank top up and over her head. She still had her mom body, and the stormtrooper's webbing had finally dried and become brittle. He yanked his arms free...and his gloved hands cupped her. Squeezed her. Rolled her nipples. Ophelia gasped, then she leaned forward, kissing his lips.
He didn't kiss back. He had no idea how.
Ophelia showed him. She showed him where to place his hand, and used her own hand to guide him into her. His heat speared deep into her body as she rocked back, gasping. "How do you like being pure?" she purred. "how do you like having a future?"
"I...I like it!" The stormtrooper gasped. "My name...mm...they give us names, you know." His hips started to get into a motion, a rhythm, as natural as breathing. Ophelia giggled, feeling her joy building as Xandra's gentle touch coaxed the growing tunnel wide orgy. Moans and gasps filled the air as Pure stalked among the lovers, caressing her, licking there, spurring others on. One caressed against her back as Ophelia gasped and bucked faster.
"What is it?" Ophelia purred.
"Rex..." The stormtrooper groaned out, his back arching as he thrust deep. his seed filled her and Ophelia closed her eyes, her head rolling back.
"Ophelia..." she whispered, feeling him twitching inside her. She settled.
And when she opened her eyes, she saw he was looking at Tent's body. His eyes were confused. Sad.
"Who...who was she?"
"Tent," Ophelia said. "My sister. My lover. My comrade." She bit her lip. "She was your sister, now."
"I..." Rex hesitated.
"We'll remember them all. We'll bury them. Honor them. And we shall fight for them." Ophelia leaned forward. "But right now?" She cupped his cheek, turning his head to face her. "I need a new baby inside me. ANd I don't think you've caught yet."
It worked every time. Men were so easy to coax to life...
***
The unassuming ship that had lurked in orbit for three months now...listed about five degrees to port. During the fight on the bridge, someone had hit a control console, and the servitor wedded to it had started firing the thruster. The ship was beginning to right herself, her corridors echoing with the sounds of sighs and moans and laughter.
There was only one person left aboard the whole ship who remained pure of the xenotaint - and she was trying, desperately, to get the vox console in subsection B, room 241, on deck 4 to work. She laid on her back, her fingers singed by the wires, as she whispered the catacheism of the machine cult's prayer under her breath again and again. At least, as much as Corrie could remember. She had only ever worked next to machine priests, not with them. She just...had to get a signal to the Interrogator, to the other ships, to anyone.
A soft rap rap rap came at the door and Corrie almost pissed herself in terror. She sat up, looking at the door, which she had welded shut, and didn't speak.
"Corrie!"
The bright cheerful voice was her best friend, Minda.
Corrie drew her legs up against her chest.
"Corrie, honey, I know you're in there. I know you're scared. But listen...you don't understand." She giggled. "It's...it's really amazing, once you're in the Sisterhood. I...I never knew how beautiful...how amazing they were. Corrie..." She sighed. "You'll be so happy if you just open the door."
"G-Go away!" Corrie said. "The Emperor protects. He protects me and I'm going to be safe."
"Corrie..." The other voice that came through was Ganet - the husky, older voice making Corrie's spine tingle. Her shift manager was so...amazing. She had been in the Interrogators service for years and she helped to run this little ship with the skeleton crew it required, managing the many, many, many servitors they used to ensure that no loose lips threatened any ships. She was tough and strong and...and loyal to the Emperor and...
"No, no, no, not you!" Corrie whispered, her hands going to her cheeks.
Ganet chuckled. "Took them a while, but they tracked me down. I feel so silly for running." She chuckled. "Feel the air?"
It did feel...warmer than it used too.
"We're naked out here, because...well, why not?" Ganet chuckled. "I think I wear it well, don't you, Minda?"
"Gloriously!" There was a soft smacking noise. "Her butt is so firm, you can bounce a throne off it. And I can play with it all day out here." She giggled as Ganet chuckled.
"Are you sure you want to stay in there all day, Corrie?" She asked, her voice amused. "We're going to get this door open eventually, and you will join us. Why make it scary?"
Corrie, to her deep shame...felt a tingling heat between her thighs. She pressed her legs together, and tried to not imagine sprightly little Minda nuzzling up against Ganet's muscular form, licking her sweaty skin exactly the same way Corrie had always imagined doing herself. She tried to not wonder if Ganet...did she have tatoos? So many voidsmen had tattoos after their long service, did- she shook her head, closing her eyes. "Emperor loves me, so I know! Because the-"
"Mmm!" Ganet gasped. "Fuck you're a thirsty girl!"
"Star Children, her pussy tastes so good..." Minda purred, then the lewd, wet noise of a tongue delving into somewhere that-
"Emperor loves me, so I know!" Corrie rocked in her room, trying to ignore how hard her nipples were. She clenched her hands so they didn't drift down along her body, which kept betraying her by listening to every soft sigh and moan. She gulped, then whispered. "B-Because the Lector tells me so."
"Oh Star Children yes! Fuck!" Ganet gasped. "Mmm, join us out here, Corrie."
"It's so lovely, you'll love it, Corrie."
"It's much nicer out here...with the whole crew. We're all eager for you."
Corrie looked at the console. She gulped, then started to work it - and finally...there was a glowing warmth and she managed to get the vox functioning. She whispered into it. "T-This is inquisitorial ship 22A-Alpha, does anyone read?"
"Yes, this is Interrogator Af-Baru," the firm voice of the Interrogator was there, in her ear! Corrie's heart bloomed with hope. She was going to make it. She was going to save the day!
"T-This is able voidsman Corrie Vaxin! T-The ship has been overrun! Genestealer cultists are everywhere, I...I don't know what to do, I'm barricaded in a room, I...I think I'm the last member of the crew!" Corrie whispered. "The door's welded shut."
"Mmm, what you do then is very simple," the Interrogator said, her voice sounding strangely amused. "You are to pick up your laswelder and you open the door, Able Voidsman Vaxin."
Corrie blinked.
Softly, through the vox, she heard a lewd wet noise and Shexia sighing. "Fuck, I forgot how good genestealer cock feels...mmm...stretch me, Patriarch...ah, fuck the Emperor right out of me..." She moaned through the vox, sounding like she had forgotten she was even on the uplink. The lewd
plap plap plap of heavy balls slapping against thighs was...Corrie had never heard sex before. But the sound was still wrong. She could hear the alienness of it.
She stood alone in her room, trembling.
"C'mon Corrie..."
"Join us, baby."
"Oh Star Children!" The sound of the Interrogator's voice echoed in the room.
Corrie took the las-welder, her hand trembling.
The door opened a moment later as she stood there, looking out at the two beautiful women, their bodies glistening with sweat. Around them stood several horrible monsters, their eyes gleaming hungrily.
Corrie bit her lip.
And whispered. "Oh Emperor."
He did not protect her.
Not that she minded...
---
Total. Conquest.
Now! What do you get? You can get +1 to a stat OR an asset (picked from the list.) Any asset, any stat, I will explain how you get it in the next update.
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