Cable Gate - The Vindication of Chapter Master Valrak
The dim glow of the lumen-strips flickered erratically within the command sanctum of the Battle Barge Emperor’s Biggest Scam. Valrak, known to most as Chapter Master
Valrak, sat hunched over his console, fingers tapping furiously. The air crackled with the static of vox chatter, the Machine Spirit of the communications array humming in quiet harmony with his work.
Brother-Captain Biggus, a veteran of the ongoing void crusades, loomed over him. “Valrak, you assured us there would be auguries this cycle. You staked your honour upon it.” His gauntleted fist clenched. “Yet we see nothing. The librarium’s vision-scribes recorded no such occurrence.”
Valrak exhaled through gritted teeth, his eyes never leaving the console. “Trust me, Brother-Captain. The omens were clear. The Warhammer Open Day—” He caught himself. “I mean, the Imperial Prognostication Day always reveals something. It is known.”
Murmurs rose from the assembled membered warriors. "Story time" issued one, “Lies,” whispered a second. “He misreads the Emperor’s Tarot,” another scoffed. “A mere scion of the Omnissiah, not an Astartes Chapter Master. What does he know?”
Then it happened.
The console vox emitter flared with a sudden data burst, heralding a revelation from Holy Nott-Terra itself. Before them, through the shimmering vox-projectis YT25, a Kill Team emerged—scarlet-clad berserkers, devout warriors of the Machine-God, and those of the Bloodied Path.
A hushed silence fell over the command sanctum.
Valrak smirked. Slowly, he turned to the doubters. “Well, well, well…” His voice was smooth as plasteel, yet brimming with triumph. “Vindication.” As somewhere in the warp, a bulwark doorbell began to toll.
But before he could savour the moment, the comms array sparked violently. The lumen-strips flickered once, twice, then darkness and a moment of deafening silence, before a sudden shriek of disrupted noospheric connection ripped through the chamber, echoing.
“Sabotage!” bellowed Captain Biggus rising to his feet. “A heretic in our midst! Who dares sever the lifeline of truth?”
Through the emergency glow of the cogitator displays, a lone Chapter Serf could be seen frozen in fear mid way through the bulwark entrance, an errant boot tangled in a holy conduit of the Omnissiah’s blessed circuitry.
“Whoops,” the serf muttered.
Valrak’s jaw clenched. He turned back to the stunned audience, his voice calm yet brimming with fury. “Brothers, you shall have to wait until the Omnissiah wills the machine-spirits to bless us with connection once more. Until then… I bid you farewell. Enjoy your weeksend.”
And with that, he strode from the chamber, his footsteps echoing with the undeniable weight of Vindication.
But who is this mysterious serf who should cause such chaos...
