NABC 164 – Horrid Tea
164 – Horrid Tea
164 – Horrid Tea
“Understand the world around you, the people under your command and your enemies. If you do, you will have the fundamental information needed to form viable plans as a leader.”
It sounded simple, reasonable and made perfect sense. Which was why I couldn’t even refute it. Selene was right, and I knew it.
The part that bothered me still was where she said I never accepted this 42nd millennium Milky Way for how it is .... Because who would want to accept this shithole for how it is? It’s terrible in every conceivable way with only silver linings that barely manage to take the edges off of its atrocious state.
Evil Gods, man-eating aliens who want to consume everything, pompous assholes who see humans as ants, psychotic ancient robots who can snuff out stars for shits and giggles, and the list goes on without me having even mentioned the pile of garbage that became of humanity.
I knew that this place was made to be grimdark. It was written like that. It was never supposed to be real, and I was never supposed to be forced to live in it.
Did accepting how horrible it was, mean giving up on ever actually turning things around? If I became just another alien warlord, blessed with supernatural powers, would I just become another bullet point on that previous list?
I could become an alien warlord unlike any other. I was confident that, if I ignored all of my worries and reservations, I could be a force to be reckoned with all by myself. Stars syphoned for an endless source of energy to power my limitless armies of mindless drones that were built based on templates taken from the most powerful beings in this galaxy.
Logistics would be my greatest opponent, transporting my drones to where they needed to be.
I was confident in that ... but which alien warlord wasn’t? And what happened to them? What remained of them?
Nothing, but trophies on a wall and droll records in some Administratum libraries. Even the Cacodominus, a powerful psychic creature that mind-controlled the entire population of 1300 star systems at once, is nothing but a memory with its skull paraded around by the Black Templars.
I was powerful, sure, but not anywhere close to powerful enough to even think about replicating that feat.
What killed it? A bunch of regular Space Marines. Their weapons? Being absolutely deranged lunatics and fanatical zealotry.
Despite my confidence, I couldn’t help but fear that by some weird twist of fate, the same would be enough to kill me.
Which was why I’d been trying to stay low and be careful. I didn’t have primarch plot armour, and not even just a regular one. Any random guardsman might just pull some bullshit McGuffey out of their ass that’s just perfectly primed to kill me.
“Can I get you something, honey?”
I looked up at the sudden sound coming from above, propping myself up from the wooden table and glancing at the matronly woman smiling down at me. After my talk with Selene, I’d Blinked down planetside and decided the best place to think and chew over my thoughts on it was in a rustic cafe.
“Yeah,” I answered slowly, glancing down at the menu she’d placed in front of me and a vaguely familiar entry caught my eye. “Can I get one cup of this ... tanna tea?”
“You sure honey?” The woman asked, looking at my face, then down at the menu. “It has a ... peculiar taste. A little too bitter for most of the more delicate customers around here.”
“Huh, why’s it on the menu if it’s so bad you have to warn me about it?” I asked her, blinking away the lingering daze my previous brooding had left me in.
“The owner loves the thing.” The woman shrugged. “There was this one veteran who came here to complain every day he couldn’t drink his favourite drink this far from home, so we put it on the menu for him.”
“I’ll give it a try,” I said with a smile, shrugging lightly as I leaned back. “Plus whatever you think will be a good palate cleanser afterwards. Might as well try it once.”
Or was I wrong? Had this planet been conquered by that crusade they had going on in the near past?
Nah. They take worshipping this totally-not-Slaaneh goddess of theirs far too seriously. I didn’t even catch a single word being spoken of the Emperor since I came down here. They have to have been separated from the Imperium long ago ... which makes this tea thing all the more weird. I’m like, 99% sure it wasn’t originally from this planet.
I glanced up and saw the older man with the newspaper looking over at me with a slight grin. On instinct, I caught his surface thoughts. He looked military-esque enough to be a veteran, but would he be the veteran whom asked for this atrocious drink to be served here?
Despite his outwardly calm demeanour, when I poked my telepathic nose inside his head I found a tightly wound ball of anxiety and fear. I could barely parse his regular thoughts as visions of his own gruesome deaths played out before his mind’s eye one after the other.
The interesting thing was, he saw himself being torn apart by daemons more often than not, or lynched by a mob in some others.
He shuddered and snapped his gaze over at me, a smile on his lips and a frown on his eyebrows. I tilted my head, not bothering to hide my staring and gave him a beatific smile.
His chaotic mess of a mind cleared up for a brief moment, and I finally found myself a name. Only my quick reflexes stopped me from dropping my glass as my eyes widened.
Caiphas Cain.
That was his name, and I was shocked to find it so familiar. Of the few warhammer series I had read more than one book of, his memoirs were one of them. I glanced down at the atrocious tea on my table and finally made the connection as to why its name sounded so familiar; the man loved this damned thing.
But what would a retired Commissar of the Imperial Guard be doing on this planet at the ass end of the Milky Way?
Something to do with the Daemon Prince ruling it, I’d wager.
As I watched him, he watched me and I quickly disengaged from his mind before it jumped to places I’d rather not see.
Still, this had my curiosity peaked, and I was aching for a distraction either way. I’d have to somehow mollify Val and bring his dampened morale back up after the undue verbal beating I had given him.
I still felt like he had been an asshole, but I agreed with Selene’s stance on him being wired that way. I couldn’t expect him to just think like me without even explaining to him my thought process ... that is, if my thought process were even the right ones to have.
A few hundred deaths would have made the headlines back on Earth.
‘Strange alien comes down from the sky, kills the President and massacres hundreds of civilians as it causes havoc in the surroundings.’
I could almost see it on the news, and hear the horrified voices of the newscasters. However, this wasn’t that Earth. Not anymore, and maybe it never had been.
Plastering a flirty smile on my face, I stood up with my two drinks in hand and sashayed over to the undercover Commissar.
“May I?” I asked, motioning for the seat, into which I slid into the moment he gave a gracious nod. “Thank you. I suspect you’re the one who cursed this menu with this atrocious drink?”
“It is an acquired taste,” he said with a charming smile that hid his underlying suspicions almost perfectly. I caught a wandering thought from him thinking I was some Slaaneshi enchantress trying to eat his soul. That was either the most flattering worry to be had when meeting me, or the rudest. I wasn’t quite sure yet. “How may I help you?”
“I am in need of a distraction,” I confessed, a smile still on my lips. “Thought you might be able to help me?”