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“The threats I protect the Expanse against are extraordinary and justify the harshest means.”
It had all been for nothing.
Years of work and plans, ruined. Everything he had sacrificed, everything he had done. People used and thrown away. His own morals compromised. It was all for naught.
He was bleeding, but he only realized it distantly. It slithered down his skin beneath his armor. He’d been shot. He wasn’t sure where. It didn’t matter now.
The shard had been subsumed by the spirit of the von Valancius flagship, the one created from the tech plague that Theodora and her mangos Amarnat had been studying. He couldn’t find it in himself to be surprised that it was by her hand that his plans were ultimately spoiled. It was just one last way for her to get one over on him, even from the grave.
She’d always been like that.
Brilliant. Difficult. A problem.
They all had been, the Rogue Traders. That was what had ultimately pushed him as far as he had gone. They couldn’t be trusted to get their collective shit together and do what they had been charged by the Emperor with doing - protecting the planets and people of the Expanse. Extending the light of the Imperium across the stars, bringing the planets on the fringe into the Emperor’s embrace. No. Calligos, Incendia, Theodora… they had all been lost in their own privileges and desires. Hunting. Fantatical worship. Greed. Each as bad as the last. And he had been left to defend the expanse alone.
Then came the Shard, and he had seen in it a way to fully, finally defend it, even without them.
The Rogue Traders had been what had started him on this path, but were they what had kept him on it? Or was it his own pride?
When had he reached the point that going back was no longer acceptable? His plans had become more and more complicated, more desperate as he tried to keep control. Good assets and agents had to be disposed of because he simply couldn’t allow it to fail. He couldn’t. And the more he sacrificed for it, the more he had to succeed, the more he had to sacrifice. A horrible, vicious cycle.
It didn’t matter now.
Theodora was dead.
Incendia was dead.
Calligos was injured.
Meliana von Valancius was the only one left standing. She was the power in the expanse now. And she had the power of the C’tan shard that he had sought to harness. Where he had failed, she had succeeded.
And, oh, there would be consequences for her success.
He wouldn’t see them, though. He was fairly sure he was dying.
His optic was broken, so he could only see through one eye, his vision fuzzy as he leaned against a pillar, breathing in soft, shallow breaths. He could feel sticky, thick wetness seeping through the body glove beneath his power armor. Despite the heat of the armor around him, he felt cold. He had tried to kill Meliana and her retinue when they came to confront him and to stop him from using the Yoke. He had underestimated her.
Perhaps that was good, though. Since she was all the Expanse had left.
He had done what he thought was right. He wanted to protect the Expanse. Would there be a place at the Emperor’s side for him? Once, he would have said yes without hesitation. Now, he had no idea anymore.
He closed his eye. He was tired. So very tired.
Footsteps in front of him drew his attention, but he refused to open his eye. If Meliana or Heinrix or one of her other people wanted to finish him off, then that was fine. To the victor went the spoils, after all, and to the loser went defeat.
No blow came, though, and, after a long moment, he allowed himself to look up.
Meliana stood over him. There was blood on her armor, soot and dust across her face. Her eyes were serious and calm as she looked down at him. Neon green lights from the Necron technology lit her from behind, glowing off her hair like the halo of some xenos angel.
Thinking of her pet Nomos and the power it - and she - now held, he thought that image might be somewhat fitting.
She held a hand out to him.
He didn’t move. His eye traveled from her hand up to her face, searching it. “What is this, von Valancius?” he rasped. He tasted blood in his mouth.
“It doesn’t need to end like this, Calcazar,” she said softly. “The Expanse could still use someone like you.”
For a moment, he just stared at her.
She was offering him his life. After everything, she was willing to save him. Less than an hour ago, he had been trying to kill her. Not to mention the fact that he had been a Lord Inquisitor. It had been by his whim that people had lived or died. The thought of anyone else sparing him when he had been the one in power for so long was truly ironic.
He laughed before he could stop himself. The absurdity of it was just too much for him. Fluid caught in his throat and he had to stop to cough, spitting blood from his mouth.
“My dear, even if you save me here, others will kill me,” he rasped. “Your own Master van Calox doubtlessly wants to. And if not him, another member of the Inquisition.”
Meliana looked down at him, her lips set in a thin purse for a second. “You forget who you're talking to.”
He looked up at her, bearing his bloody teeth in a faint grin up at her. He knew full well who he was talking to. A Rogue Trader. The most powerful one in the Expanse now. Quite possibly the only one who could keep a disgraced Inquisitor safe for a time. But it meant being under her thumb. Relinquishing his power and putting himself in his hands.
Putting himself at her mercy.
He hardly wanted to die. There was more that could be done, she was right about that. But could he lower himself to be her servant just for that?
Meliana was still holding her hand out to him as the amused look fell from his face. More thoughtfully, he looked at her delicate fingers.
What should he do?