Getting Warhammered [WH 40k Fanfic]

179 – The most expensive commodity: Time

179 – The most expensive commodity: Time

Amberley and crew sure did take a hell of a long while to decide on what to do, thankfully, I had other matters to take my mind off of things. In the interim, a grand total of twelve idiots volunteered themselves to being my test subjects by attempting to establish themselves as small-time warlords across the numerous small towns of the planet. 

Ex-gang leaders, the equivalent of the mafia that they had here, smugglers with a large stash of weapons a few centuries better than the rest of the planet had and so on and so forth. There were all kinds of them, but they all ended up the same way: nabbed by a quick teleport and dropped into an induced sleep. 

I might not have to use good old Thrace as my lab rat after all. I mused. The original plan was to shove the artifact up his ass and see what happened, but I was pretty sure Amberley would have been a bit miffed about my abuse of a fellow Inquisitor. Even if the man had been the most heinous pile of scum in human form I’d seen to date. 

It wasn’t that the pretty little Puritan Inquisitor liked her erstwhile radical counterpart; it was about respect and what I’d done humiliating the whole Inquisition if it became known. 

I had the urge to do it anyway, to spite them … but that would have been petty and more counterintuitive to my goals than even just revealing myself to an agent of the Emperor. I had to start thinking a bit further ahead if I wanted to get anywhere, even if it meant denying myself the immediate satisfaction of going with my whims. 

As a fun side note, my monkey drone had upgraded to a heavy vehicle-grade energy field emitter. Well, ‘upgraded’ isn’t the right word … downsizing it was. The thing that had been the size of a washing machine now fit into a jacket pocket or could be worn on a necklace like an amulet. 

The little shit took apart half a dozen of my starship-grade energy field emitters to do it, so it wasn’t economical to mass produce, but it was nice anyway.

On a wholesome side note, little Mara was now exploring the small section of my forest realm like a curious child. So while Amberley was busy worrying about what her pet Psyker had told her, I made various cute and fluffy animals out of soul energy that I dropped around the curious explorer. Now she had a small horde of rabbits and kittens following her around like some Disney Princess. 

When I heard someone shuffling in behind me, their boots crunching on twigs and dried leaves as they approached me I didn’t even bother turning my head and continued playing with the miniature dart I’d been working on to chase away boredom.

Back on earth, this little thing would have broken a few laws of war and likely caused new entries to be added to the Geneva Conventions. As the soldier came to a halt a few metres behind me, shuffling with obvious uncertainty at me ignoring his presence, I flicked the little dart at the nearest tree.

It burrowed in just deep enough, sinking into its core before its twisted payload unfurled and broke out. There was no eldritch flesh in the nail-like projectile, it was entirely organic and looked like a narrow thorn as long as my pinky finger.

The tree croaked, its bark caving in as the vicious virus in the dart spread and warped its very genetic makeup then forced it into a rapid mutation. It was far slower than what I could have done with my eldritch powers or even with just Biomancy, but this solution didn't even require my presence. However, it was far less … gentle as a result.

The tree died and from its twisted carcass a new plant was born, a bush with sickly green leaves and long. Narrow spikes poked out from pine-like growths hung heavily on thin branches. I felt the potential in them, that if an animal brushed up against the bush, it’d drop one of those pines and all the thorns it carried as its payload would launch at everything nearby, likely some even ending up in whatever dared to bother the bush.

Which would consequently twist the victim into another bush of its like. 

“What in the Emperor’s name is that!?” The soldier shouted, taking steps back as his lastifle came up to point at the thing. 

“A fun piece of flora from the Deathworld of Catachan,” I said, then finally turned my head to gaze at the horrified trooper. “You wanted something I presume?”

What I failed to tell him was that the original plant’s thorns only affected fleshy animals and that the mutation took days to fully kill the victim. Both of which were intentional, I thought. Well, as much as evolution and such things could be. The bush wouldn’t want more of its kind to be born too close to itself, so it served it well if its victims carried its seeds far before they grew into another bush.

It was similar in a way to plants that grew fruits for animals to eat and then poop out the seeds hidden inside a while away to grow into a new plant. 

“The Lady Inquisitor wants to see you,” the man said, still staring warily at the bush with his finger on the trigger. “That thing … is it safe?”

“No,” I said with a morbid chuckle, then waved my hand and drained the life out of it. The bush withered and died like it was burned to ash by an invisible bonfire. “But now it is. Where is your mistress?”

“In the command tent,” the man said, his voice now laced with palpable fear. I didn’t doubt they’d been told that I’m dangerous, but I was also just a slender woman wearing thin robes with no visible weapons and without even some defined muscles. I didn’t seem dangerous in any way the lizard part of the human brain learned to identify danger. 

Nodding lightly, I strutted off with my telekinesis carrying me over a small gully and boosting my small hop into an elegant leap that carried me over an APC. Landing light as a feather, I made my way to the tent under the wary gaze of the troopers and then strode in without announcing myself or asking for permission.

“I assume you finally came to a decision?” I asked mildly as I crossed my arms, letting my gaze pan over the small group gathered in the tent. Amberley was centre-stage, standing over the table with the artifact in front of her, and behind her stood Cain and Jurgen with her two goons stationed behind me near the entrance of the tent. I even saw her little pet Psyker who looked deathly pale and seemed to be debating whether to vomit all over herself or just faint. 

The poor thing was not handling being under Jurgen’s Blank aura nearly as well as I was despite having put as much distance between the two of them as possible. She was also pretty understandably freaked out by the fraction of my power visible to her flimsy sense for Immaterial energies. 

If she could see me in my entirety, I thought the woman might really just explode from sheer incomprehension and terror. She seemed to be that sort. Luckily for her, my not being connected to the Warp largely hid me from being observed. What little she saw was the little bit of my power present in realspace and a shadow of what was hiding in my Realm.

“Yes,” Amberley said, saving the Psyker from having my amused stare boring into the side of her face a second longer. “I will accept your terms, on one condition.”

“And what might that be?” I asked with a quirk of my eyebrow.

“Can you turn this rejuvenation treatment of yours into a consumable ‘medicine’ or pill of some kind?” She asked.

“I could,” I said, my head tilting to the side as my eyes narrowed. “But I won’t. I am offering you a one-time treatment, not something for your tech priests to dissect and study.”

“I’m afraid making a few dozen disposable stormtroopers fifty years younger is just not an equal to giving away vital information about this artifact,” Amberley said. “And before you say it, no, I don’t trust you nearly enough to do the procedure on myself or them. From what little I understand of Biomancy, nothing would stop you from doing things differently for us.”

I hummed thoughtfully, tapping my lips. Her concerns were valid, if silly. I could kill them all and do with them what I wished no matter what they did, but I was negotiating. Why? Because I felt a touch sorry for swooping in and stealing their artifact.

Also, because neither Cain nor Amberly were bad people … as far as Imperial officers went. 

How do I assuage their worries? I thought, then got an idea. “Counter offer. I will make the treatment into consumable pills, but you are not allowed to take them out of my sight. Any that aren’t used here and now, I’ll destroy. That good enough for you?”

After a moment of hesitation and taking a short glance at Cain who gave her a near imperceptible shrug, she gave me a nod.

“Yes, it will do.” 

“Great,” I said. “How many pills do you want?”

“Four,” she said and when I raised an eyebrow, she just shrugged. “Me, Cain, Jurgen and Rakel.”

“That’ll complicate it a bit,” I said before holding out my hand and revealing two simple white beads sitting on it. “These are ready for you two … but I’ll have to make sure nothing messes with what makes the other two a bit more unique.”

“What do you mean?” Amberley asked, eying the two pills but not taking them yet so I dropped them on the table. They were made of eldritch flesh, my flesh, so I kept track of them even if I didn’t look like I was. 

“A Psyker and a Pariah,” I said, pointing at the two. Jurgen just stared back at me with bovine incomprehension, his pockmarked face and tufts of sparse white hair truly driving it home just why Cain complained about his hygiene and looks so much. Rakel on the other hand was a reasonably pretty woman, though past her prime with crow feet at the edges of her eyes and graying locks of hair. Her acting like a skittish animal while looking like she could be my mother was kinda weirding me out. “If I remove problematic gene strains from their genetic makeup as I did with Sebastian, I might accidentally remove something crucial to what makes their unique powers tick.”

“Problematic genetics?” Amberley pressed, now eyeing me suspiciously.

“Like the ones making his face look like that?” I pointed at Jurgen, then gave him an apologetic smile. “Sorry, but you look like you collected more skin diseases than I know of and there is no damned way it’s not somehow the result of your immune system being especially susceptible to those sorts of things. I can change that.”

“Really?” Jurgen asked, reaching up to tap his cheek. “And make me younger too like the Commissar said?”

“Yep,” I said, shrugging. “But I’ll need to take … let’s say a single hair. Same with Rakel over there. I am more familiar with Psyker genetics, but still not nearly familiar enough to automate the process.”

“We will all take the unchanged genetics,” Amberley said pointedly. “Just the healing and the rejuvenation please.”

“Suit yourselves,” I huffed, then shrugged. I snatched up the two pills and then dropped another four onto the table. “There is four hundred years worth of youth packed into each pill. You’ll be aged back to around twenty five years old bodies and all permanent or lingering injuries will be repaired. You might die in a few years to some genetic defect or cancer though, but I suppose that will be natural selection at work.”

Sadly, fate likely wouldn’t be so quick to punish their poor decisions seeing as they’d survived this long already. All four of them felt like they’d lived past a century at least and I knew Cain and Amberley had more than a few rejuv treatments keeping them kicking. Which was why the two looked a decade younger than Rakel and at least half a century younger than Jurgen despite likely having been born in the same decade.

When they didn’t do anything, I just sat down in my chair and crossed my arms.

“Go on.” I gestured for them to get to it. “Eat your pills, then let me finally examine that artifact of yours. Despite how it might appear, I have better things to do than sit around all day watching trees and your frowning, scowling faces.”