Chapter 17: Chapter 16 Tuya Khan
It was curious how history seemed to repeat itself. Countless millennia ago, Athens had stood as the dominant power among the City-States of Greece, a cultural icon whose influence could be felt across the Aegean. And now, several thousand years after its golden age, after the human race had taken the first tentative steps off their birthworld and spread across the stars, claiming all with its sight, and after their glorious galactic federation had fallen to the Warp and the rebellion of their Men of Iron, Athens had risen once more. Now, the city-state of Athens stood as one empire among hundreds that dotted across the blasted ruins of Terra. Just another one of the techno-barbaric states that had risen from the ashes of the Old Night
Not that you would think to call it barbaric once you saw it for yourself, the woman who called herself Revelation thought, albeit begrudgingly. Surrounded by the walls built around the vast Attica basin, Athens sprawled across the plains and hills as a vast and shining metropolis of gold and marble. The air lacked the smog and industrial stench that plagued other cities and heavy and ugly urbanization was absent in favor of clean, neo-classical designs that left the city feeling open and free. The people who walked the streets were clean and healthy looking, dressed in chitons dyed rich, warm colors, almost care-free in appearance as they browsed the markets or sat by bistros on the corner. The woman called Revelation walked among them, though few realized it. To them, all she appeared to be was just another citizen of great Athens, rather than another warlord.
As she walked, Revelation quietly observed how the old and new worlds blended together here in the city. Traditional lyres and flutes played alongside vibro-repeaters and amplificators. Nobles showed off finely-crafted bionic prosthetics as they rode in hover vehicles and cyber-destriers. The guards that patrolled the streets carried sonic-based rifles and vibro-xiphos and wore carapace armor modeled on that of ancient hoplites. It was as if someone went to great, painstaking lengths to recreate the Athens of old in the image of the new world.
And, as Revelation knew, someone had.
Continuing down the street, it wasn't long before Revelation realized that she was being followed. Her pursuers could be not be seen by the naked eye, appearing at most as brief shimmers in the sunlight before disappearing into nothingness once more. By Revelation could feel there presence in the Warp. Well, if she was being followed. She might as well learn why. She took a sharp turn, walking away from the open and further into narrower and narrower corridors and alleys. Her pursuers continued to follow, until at last she turned to face them, her back against the wall.
"If you have a message to bare, please announce it," she called out into the seemingly empty alley. "If not, please do not further waste my time."
There was a tense pause, and then her pursuers shimmered in the dim light before finally revealing themselves. They were clad in silver powered armor and wore rich purple cloaks. In their hands were weapons that vaguely resembled the guardian spears of her Custodes and they carried towering shields with built-in refractor fields. One of these presumably elites stepped forward.
"The Tyrannos wishes to see you."
Revelation arched an exquisite eyebrow and allowed them to escort her to an elegant speeder armed with mounted auto-guns. They did not attempt to restrain her, not that they would have been able to if they tried. Either they did not think of her as a threat or, more likely, they were under explicit orders that she was not to be harmed or inconvenient in any way. They carried her through the vast city and towards its heart, where lay the heart of Athens – Mt Lycabettus.
And, sitting atop the hill summit like a crown of marble, was the Parthenon. Just as Athens had once more taken its place as the beating heart of the Balkan Peninsula, the Parthenon had reclaimed its rightful place as the heart and mind of the great city. The ancient Acropolis had been rebuilt to its former splendor, no longer a crumbling ruin, but a vast and lively palace that overlooked the city below.
The Guards escorted Revelation within, passing lounging nobles discussing business over wine, exotic drugs and waited on by beautiful and barely dressed servers – both male and female. Just as the Parthenon had been returned to its former glory, a new statue dominated the great center chamber. But it was not a statue of Athena Parthenos, nor any other version of the ancient Goddess of Wisdom. This statue, with plentiful curves, inhuman beauty and enigmatic, teasing smile might be mistaken for that of Aphrodite – Goddess of Love and Beauty. But Revelation had never heard or seen any image that depicted Aphrodite with six arms.
Or horns.
Revelation had little time to ponder this strange, new idol of the new Athens as her escort continued forward until they reached the private domicile of the Tyrannos. The guards did not follow her, simply telling the Empress-in-disguise that the Tyrannos had wished to see her and her alone. Revelation had not been in the chamber for a second before a voice called out to her.
"Welcome back, Apokálypsi," a voice; rich, warm, and masculine, greeted her. Sitting atop a gilded throne and dressed in a splendorous chiton of gold and purple was the man who would one day be Baren. "Or should I say "Empress"?" He chuckled. "You certainly know how to make a name for yourself." He raised a glass of wine at the bemused Empress. "Come, let's talk." His smile became hungry, dangerous even. "Tell me about this… Imperium of Mankind of yours…"
-
The Gloriana-class battleship Swordstorm hovered on the outskirts of the Chondax system, its gleaming white hull scarred from many conflicts with the scrap-fleets of the Ork Waaagh! Within her private quarters stood the venerable form of Tuya Khan – Primarch of the Fifth Astartes Legion, the White Scars. The Colchis-born Primarch stared pensively out into the vast void of open space. In the distance, she could just barely make out the line of battleships belonging to the Alpha Legion blockading the path back to the Sol System.
Several days ago, just as their fleet had finished exterminating the Ork presence in the system, an Alpha Legion fleet had arrived from nowhere and began blockading the route to Terra. All attempts by the White Scars to hail their enigmatic kin had gone unanswered. As if that wasn't enough, they had received a second message from Terra. The Praetorian, Dorn, she had demanded that the Khan and her legion return to Terra immediately to begin preparing for a siege. She claimed… she claimed that Isis Lupercal, the Warmaster, had turned traitor. This news – and the fact that the Alpha Legion must have let it reach them - had obviously perturbed the fifth legion and even now, they debated on what action – if any – they should take against the twentieth legion. Until a consensus could be reached, the two fleets simply sat there, separated by a not-so-distant void, and waiting.
Patience was not a virtue most thought of when it came to the White Scars. They were a mobile order, always on the move, never staying in one place for too long. They took to war with joyous exuberance, racing atop their bikes, chasing their enemies across plains and valleys or even in the sky. Yet still, they knew the value of patience, Tuya most of all. And so, they waited, until the Alpha Legion made their move, should they ever. The Khan quietly sighed and turned away from the viewport.
Her gold and white armor lay abandoned, and her body – bronzed from years riding beneath Chogoris's sun – was covered by a thin traditional slip. The Great Khan poured a special blend of wine brewed specifically for transhumans such as the Primarchs and their Astartes and sipped from it as she pondered her situation. She was caught between a rock and a hard place, unable to know if she could trust the Alpha Legion and unable to start conflict with them if she could. Then there was the news from Terra. Dorn wasn't a liar, so either the Warmaster truly had betrayed the Imperium or someone wanted Tuya to think she had. If either were true, then why? To test her? The Imperium? Was it an Eldar plot? She didn't have enough information to know. Tuya sighed in frustration and took a deeper sip of wine. She wasn't trusted to know more.
"It's so hard to be the one no one trusts, isn't it?" A voice, rich, deep, and masculine asked behind her. Tuya spun around, topknot whipping behind in her unnatural speed. Baren took a sip of wine and smirked at her. "I mean… with Kurze or Areia, everyone knows where they stand, but you, Tuya, you're a mystery even to your sisters." Baren took a sip of wine and smirked at her. Baren smiled at her, raising his own glass of wine in a mock toast. "A toast to you, Great Khatun."
"What do you want, daemon?" Tuya asked, eyeing the Slaaneshi warily.
Baren dismissed the wine glass with a wave of his hand. "Do I need to want anything?" He asked faux-innocently. "Perhaps I'm just here to help you, Great Khan."
"And what pray tell do you intend to help me with?" Tuya asked. She glanced toward the side of her bed where she kept a power-dagger by habit. She did not know if it would be helpful, but without being able to contact one of her Stormseers, it may be her only use to rid herself of the Warp entity.
"This little conflict of loyalty you're dealing with obviously." The daemon gestured broadly toward the viewport, where the Alpha Legion fleet floated just within sight. "Just to make sure that you pick the right side."
"And what side would that be?" Tuya questioned, moving herself a little closer to her bed without making it obvious.
Baren smiled widely, each perfect ivory fang shining in the dim light of the ship. "Why, with the Warmaster of course!"
Baren's answer froze Tuya in place, the Khan's amber eyes widening as she was confronted with the truth. "So, the Lupercal really has turned against the Empress…" The Great Khantun murmured, disbelief written across her sharp face.
"Ha…yeah," the Daemon casually confirmed with a shrug. "But, hey, can you blame her? I mean, it's not as if you're mother's a saint. You've already realized that haven't you?" Tuya was silent, now willing to admit that Baren was right. The Empress… was a tyrant. The same kind that Tuya had warred against on Chogoris until she was the Khan of Khans. The Daemon smirked. "You know, I like you, Tuya," he continued, slithering closer to the Khan. "You might be my favorite of your mother's children. After all, we both want the same thing~"
"That being?" Tuya asked, her hawkish gaze zeroing in on the Daemon Prince.
"Freedom," Baren whispered, dark eyes glimmering as he spoke. "Everyone wants to be free after all."
"And what makes you think I'm not free already?" Tuya challenged.
Baren chuckled darkly. "Please," he said. "Right now, you're just a hawk on a chain. You have room to fly a little perhaps, but you'll always be stuck to the Empress's side. With Isis, however. You won't have to be a tool for your mother's crusade. You'd be your own woman again. You'd answer to no one but yourself, free to explore the universe at your own leisure." When Tuya again fell silent, Baren held out a great hand. "Don't believe me?" He asked, before summoning a small data disk, printed with the Imperial Aquilla. "Just look at what your mother's been building beneath her palace."
He held out the disk to Tuya and the Khan reluctantly took it. Placing it into her private holo-projector. After accepting the disk, a holographic image flickered to life – an image that depicted the Imperial Palace. Tuya's eyes widened and she snapped towards Baren. "Where do you get this?" she demanded.
The Daemon shrugged. "Does it matter?" He asked, before raising a hand toward the projector. "Besides, I think this is what you'll be more interested in." The image of the palace flicked and shifted, before zooming in on one area in particular deep beneath the earth. It appeared to be an underwater grotto, with a ring of twenty huge and magnificent villas built around the subterranean lake.
Twenty villas… Tuya thought. Twenty… Her eyes widened in realization. "There for us." She whispered. "The villas are for us." Twenty villas… for twenty primarchs.
Behind her, Baren grinned toothily. "Come now," he purred, relishing in Tuya's mounting shock. "You didn't think the Empress was just going to let you all walk away when this was all over, did you?" His smile dropped and his tone grew darker. "No… When this war is over and she's got everything just the way she likes it, the Empress will get rid of you all. You're daughters will be killed in droves and you get to live the rest of your life in a gilded cage."
"You don't know that!" Tuya tried to argue, but even to her, it sounded weak.
"Oh no?" Barne challenged. He leaned in close to Tuya, there faces less than an inch apart. "She's done it before. The Thunder Warriors came before you and the Astartes. They worshipped the ground the Empress walked on, but the second they became a liability… She had them slaughtered like cattle." Baren gestured towards the hologram. "It's what Isis has already realized. You're not her daughters… You're her weapons. No different than a boltgun. And a weapon won't have much use in a galaxy without war."
"So I'm to join Isis in her little rebellion then?" The Khan asked, narrowing her hawk-like eyes at the Daemon. "And expect that she won't just be as big of a tyrant as the Empress herself?"
"Sure, you could do that," Baren shrugged, before smiling down at the Primarch. "Or… you could join me~"
The offer sent Tuya reeling. "Wh-what?"
"I made the offer to your mother once, before this whole "Great Crusade" nonsense was the only thing she could think about. You don't have to own the galaxy, just experience it. There's a million worlds out there, Tuya, just waiting for you to see. Near endless worlds, endless experiences, endless sensations to delight in. You could run wild and free across a galaxy that could never hope to cage you. Or… you can go back to being a hawk in a cage," the Daemon extended a hand towards her. "What do you say?" he asked, pulling the Great Khan close under her heavy breasts were pressed against his broad chest. "Can we be friends?"
Tuya looked up at the smiling daemon… and the Great Khan made her choice. Tuya seized Baren by the back of his neck and dragged his face down to hers, kissing the Daemon fiercely. Their tongues warred against each other, fighting for dominance as the primarch allowed the daemon to tear away her small clothes, leaving her buxom, bronze body bare to the cool air of the chamber.
The Daemon pulled away from Tuya's lips and lowered his head, nuzzling against the crook of her neck as he kissed and nipped at her collar bone. Above him, Tuya gasped and sighed, small, sharp sounds that pleased Baren greatly as he pulled her towards the bed. The Khan fell back on the bed with a sharp gasp, toned legs spread wide as Baren loomed over her.
Baren climbed onto the bed and placed his head between Tuya's legs, and she felt the Daemon's warm breath tickle her womanhood. She may be larger than a human, but at least in that regard everything was in the same place, and Baren seemed to know his way around. Through clenched teeth, Tuya sharply drew in a breath while Baren set to work on her nethers. She hadn't expected his forked tongue to be so eager or so skilled, but it was a wonderful feeling. One's own fingers were always an option, to be sure, but the feeling of another's hands parting her labia, of darting their tongue around her clitoris, was far better.
Every breath Baren exhaled through his nose sent a small wave of heat that raced across Tuya's flesh, making the Khan shudder with pleasure. Her womanhood let out a steady trickle of fluid, which the prince used to add his fingers to the mix. Tuya's hands instinctively made their way down to Baren's head, grabbing the daemon by his curling horns and pushing his face deeper into her nethers as the pleasurable sensation continued to build.
Hah… You're quite good!" Tuya let out a breathless chuckle, complimenting Baren on his prowess. Baren, however, didn't reply with words, and instead only redoubled his efforts.
Soon his fingers carefully entered the Primarch's opening, stealing their way in just deep enough to curl upward and gently tease her sensitive g-spot. The sudden attack against her weak point coaxed a cry out of Tuya, who pushed Baren's head even more tightly against her cunt as her body shook and shuddered from the sensation. And with the warmth of a light buzz still filling her body, Tuya was swiftly brought to climax.
"HNGH!" She tried to stifle a high-pitched cry, but only succeeded in making it sound even more lewd than it would have already as a powerful climax rippled across her body. Her hips spasmed, and both her hands and thighs clamped down tightly on Baren's head, gripping his curling horns tightly as she orgasmed. She let out another breathless laugh. "Hooh… not bad at all…"
"I aim to please," Baren smirked, before slithering forward until the tip of his cock was pressed against Tuya's soaking cunt. "So let me please you~"
Tuya watched the enormous cock approach her glistening cunt. She purred as the head kissed her lips. A shiver of delight ran up her spine, echoing her body's screaming need to get fucked. The cockhead pierced her pale curtains and pushed beyond the pink. There was an initial sting of the stretch as she went taut around him, but then came an immediate flood of undesired pleasure. Hissing, she looked down on the pallid shaft expanding her innards only to let out a whorish growl as he blind-sided her with a vicious thrust! Her eyes rolled back in her head. She released a drawn-out hiss of "fuuuhhhuuuck~" Her nails dug into his back as she felt as if she were being split in half.
"Nghhhh!" The warhawk growled as she was smashed open by the daemon. The obese girth shoving inside, caring nothing for resistance as he plunged himself in, stretching her cunt wide. She hung there, head trapped between his arms as Tuya glared up at the daemon, her eyes watering and her mouth agape, forced to contend with the best fuck of her life.
Without any hesitation the Prince reared back again and slammed in deeper, stretching her cunt so completely that it struck places she didn't even know she had, and caused her thick toned thighs to shiver in desire. Baren was showing no signs of stopping as his hands drifted forward to maul and squeeze her breasts.
The whole room rocked with the daemon-dick slamming into her. While his palms came down hard with electrifying gropes on her tits that jiggled and shook with each quacking thrust. Every forceful pump got her shamefully moaning while each slap made her smile and her greedy cunt tighten up around the daemon's throbbing cock.
The Khan's moans mixing with his as she continued to get off on not just hardcore fucking but the way he's mastering her jiggling breasts with his experienced hands. Tuya's fingers clutched harshly at the bedding underneath her, seeking something, anything to hold onto as she was fucked senseless. "Fuck me…fuck me!" The Great Khan demanded, as the unexpected pleasure she was getting from being fucked so hard. Her legs stretched out and hitched against his sides, holding onto him harder and harder.
Each thrust was a battering ram shattering her once perfect pussy into a gaping hole. Tuya never knew this pleasure as her body was torn in half by a monstrous pole, sweat running down her body in ecstasy. Baren giving the stunning bombshell no time to adjust to the vast size working in and out of her tightness. Tuya's eyes crossed as she squirted against his lap in a violent orgasm that left her loins damp. Her convulsing hole and tight tunnel milked his shaft like a farmer's hand. Her quivering thighs tickled his heaving balls as they emptied. He withdrew halfway – "UGH!" – and rammed into her again, delivering another dosage. She felt her chamber overflow, her tunnel flood. "UGH!" He piped another load. Shakingly, she moved back and forth, teasing out every coveted drop. Pumped. Pumped. Pumped.
At last, Baren pulled out, his heavy cock limp as it fell from Tuya's stuffed cunt. The daemon stood and stretched. He was pleased, so pleased that he almost didn't notice the glint of steel out of the corner of his eye. Almost.
"Guh!" Tuya gasped as her wrist was seized in the daemon's iron grip, the tip of her power dagger mere inches from the center of his chest.
Baren looked down at the offending weapon then back at Tuya. "I'll take that as a "no", then?" he asked, thoroughly unamused. "I'm very disappointed in you, Tuya, I thought you understood."
"I understand," Tuya retorted cooly, glaring at the warp entity. "I understand more than any of my sisters that the Warp and its denizens bring nothing but treachery and ruin to those who ally with them. I won't let myself burn along with Isis and her foolish rebellion."
Baren stared back at her icily. "It seems I was wrong," he began, his voice no longer playful, but frigid and brimming with barely restrained fury. "You are more like you're mother than you think, Great Khatun." He released Tuya and stepped back. The Primarch braced, readying herself for a fight, but none came. Instead, Baren swept a great hand and tore open a portal into the Warp. "Enjoy you're cage, Tuya Khan," the Daemon Prince growled before he disappeared in a blinding flash of light.
Tuya was left alone in her bedchambers, staring blankly at the empty space where the daemon once stood. Finally, she turned away and approached her desk where a vox-transmitter could give orders directly to the ship's crew. "Admiral," the Great Khan spoke into the transceiver. "I have made my decision." Tuya glared darkly at the Alpha Legion fleet floating ominously out in the void.
"Make way for Terra and be ready for a fight."
-
The Imperial Throne Room, once the gleaming heart of the vast Imperial Palace, now resembled a charnel pit. Bodies lay broken and bloodied on the floor. Many of them were the elite human guards Lucifer Blacks, or even the yellow-clad Astartes of the Imperial Fists. Once or twice in the bloody, gruesome mess lied even the golden form of a Custodes. Rising above this gruesome pit, seated atop her Golden Throne, was the Empress of Mankind. Her glorious, golden form was bruised and bloodied in a way it hadn't been since the conquest of Ullanor.
Standing around her were some of her closest confidants on Terra; Malchador the Sigillite and Constantinia Valdor the Captain-General of the Custodes. After nearly three days of brutal, relentless fighting, the throne room had been secured and the warp portal created by the disastrous failure was once more closed. The Daemons of Slaanesh that invaded the throne room had been banished back to the Dark Prince's realm in the Warp, though the Empress could still hear them whispering and mocking her from the other side of reality. The Empress gazed out across the ruins of her throne room and sighed.
"This is the worst thing that he has ever done."
"It was foolish to invite him into the fold," Malchador remarked, his burning staff tapping against the ground as he approached the throne. "Even more so to let him live afterwards."
"I thought he understood," the Empress protested, not in the mood for a lecture. "I thought they all did."
Unfortunately, she would not be spared the inevitable lecture. "Perhaps they did once, but now the only Baren understands is the will of Slaanesh. This rebellion needs to be dealt with before it tears the Imperium apart."
The Empress glared at him… and sighed. "You're right," she admitted before turning to Valdor. "Constantinia, tell Dorn to summon the remaining Imperial Fists so they can finish the defences. And then have her summon every Primarch still loyal to the Imperium back to Terra." With a gaping tear in reality just beneath her throne, the Empress could not leave the Golden Throne.
If she wanted this war to end, she needed to bring it to Terra itself.