Ciaphas Cain: Hero of the Koronus Expanse

[Hjonk]

Editorial Note:

The following is, I must admit, a rather stark departure from the preceding contents of the Cain Archive. It marks an unpredictable upheaval in the life of Commissar Cain - one that comes just at the cusp of the 13th Black Crusade and explains Cain's absence from any other Imperial accounts of that time.

This is, as I'm sure all my readers well know, due to the sudden and unexpected revelation as to exactly why no-one had managed to track down the true homeworld on which Cain had been raised, and trained for the Schola Progenium, despite considerable efforts to do just that.

Of course, while it comes as no surprise that Cain's parents were more than hiveborn lowlifes (he'd never have been selected for the Schola if that were the case) I dare say I speak for all of us when I say I never could have guessed the true origins from which he stemmed.

Nor, I'm sure, could Cain himself.

Nonetheless, I have continued to move through the contents of Cain's memoirs in an effort to put his often slapdash ramblings into a more coherent narrative. The very nature of this new 'chapter' of his life has, however, made this a more challenging endeavour. I have therefore decided to supplement these writings with some less scholarly sources. I shall do my best to ensure the largest and most important events are told in Cain's own words, however some must be reconstructed from whatever I can find of security footage, eye-witness accounts, or simply retelling from third-party sources.

Rest assured that I maintain the same standards for historical accuracy, and so even these additions have been curated to be as close to the actual events as I could manage. Cain himself has occasionally assisted in this, though as I'm sure my readers are aware, that could influence the perception of events to be rather less impressive than they may have been. The testimonies of his eventual Companions have been invaluable to push things back into a more accurate retelling.

As it stands, I shall do my utmost to ensure the Inquisition has a full and complete account of the life of Commissar Cain.

- Inquisitor Amberley Vail, His Holy Inquisition, Ordo Xenos

---

Soldiers, as a rule, make exceptionally poor Nobles. They spend so much of their lives looking ahead to find the enemy, that they forget the deadliest blade is the one that strikes from behind. Unless they're used to the attention of a particularly irritating Commissar, of course.

- Governor Bethany D'tois, High General of the Astra Militarum, Retired - 984.M41

As I stared out over the truly massive ship-borne Cathedral aboard the Eternal Vigilance, flagship of Rogue Trader Theodora von Valancius, I wondered what in the world I had done to become the Emperor's favourite joke. I'd never been the most pious man in His service, often of the opinion that He likely had much more important things to worry about than whatever sorry plight I had gotten dragged into, but surely a good two centuries of continuous bowel-clenching horror should have been enough for me to earn my peaceful and uneventful retirement.

Alas, that was not to be.



I'd been having quite the nice evening at the Schola, toying with the few suckers among the faculty that had yet to learn not to bet high against me over a tarot deck, when we were interrupted by my faithful and long-serving aide, Ferik Jurgen. He knocked quickly on the door before stepping inside, clearly considering whatever he had to say a high priority for me to hear - which told me instantly that I wasn't going to like it at all.

"Commissar," He began in the unbothered and phlegmatic fashion I'd grown so used to, his attention locking on me and ignoring the mildly disgusted look of the other teachers as his rather nauseating bouquet washed into the room. "There's a squad of rather insistent navy-boys out here, saying you've been summoned." Well, that was rarely a good sign, especially considering my retirement. At best, I was about to give some stern lectures and punishments to students who messed around and somehow got a Captain on their case, at worst... well, at worst I was about to be pulled right back out of retirement so the Emperor could once again see about the most amusing situations in which to torment me.

Which turned out to be the case, though in a far more confusing and terrifying way than even I could have imagined. As it was, Jurgen had understated the importance (and clear self-importance) of the 'navy-boys' who had come for me. Indeed, it turned out they were not just any old procurators, but the House Guard of a Rogue Trader dynasty come to collect me on the direct order of their Liege. They even had a signed transfer order from High Command of the Ultima Segmentum! As such, I was barely afforded the time to collect my kit and a few select private items before I was shipped off-world, and only then was I told where exactly we were heading.

I baulked, staring in bewildered confusion at the nervous guard that had shown me to my room on the ship, his eager-to-please attitude likely influenced by my ever-present Commissarial cap, sash, and the reputation that had earned me an undeserved legend as a Hero. He seemed at a loss for words, not quite sure what about his answer had brought my undivided attention onto him, an undesirable position to be in for any guard who knew of the Commissariat. Finally, I found my wits and asked what I, at the time, thought was the most relevant question I could ask.

"Where the frack is the Koronus Expanse?"

---

On the ass-end of nowhere, as it turned out. The Koronus Expanse was a large subsector on the opposite side of the galaxy from the Ultima Segmentum where I'd spent most of my career. It was so far away, in fact, that it took us right up past the Cadian Gate. Not my first visit to that Throne-Forsaken fortress world, but definitely not a place I'd wish to linger, lest Abaddon decide to launch another Black Crusade so he could really screw with my day. (1)

We were forced to make a short stop there however, both for the ship to refuel before the final leg of the journey and because nothing could so much as sneeze above Cadia without a dozen reports filing and inspecting it for any threat of Chaos. That didn't help me much of course, cooped up on the ship as I was, endlessly moving through my chainsword routine to pass the time, but it did afford me a moment to send out an encrypted astropathic message informing the Inquisition of my whereabouts. Not so they would come and save me of course, but Amberley tended to get cross with me if I up and disappeared on adventures she herself had no hand in orchestrating. (2)

Then we were off again, sailing through the warp for the very edges of Imperial space and then beyond even that into territories that could only be called part of the Imperium if you were being rather generous. The domain of Rogue Trader, pirates, heretics and xenos empires yet to be brought to heel.

Frustratingly, the House Guard on the ship were either too well-trained or too loyal to tell me why exactly I had been pulled right out of retirement at the behest of the Rogue Trader, so I was all but clueless up until we actually arrived. (3) At least the captain of the merchant ship we were hitching a ride on provided some better company, sharing his collection of well-aged amasec over dinner, the regicide board and even a tarot deck once or twice, all in exchange for some watered down tales of my own adventures.

By the time we arrived in some unnamed system and I was transferred over to the Eternal Commerce, an enormous, golden Cruiser and flagship of the von Valancius dynasty, I'd managed to dig a little info on the Rogue Trader herself from the captain. Supposedly, she was a daring and demanding ruler who demanded nothing less than excellence. A woman with a taste for the finer things in life, along with the power and authority to demand it. A terrifying mistress in all respects.

And she had gone through the effort to summon me, specifically. I could feel the palms of my hand tingling at just the thought, even as I put on a humble smile and assured the captain that it would be an honour to meet the noble Lady.

"Oh I'm sure the honour will be all hers!" He'd assured boisterously, shaking his head in humour as the shuttle door closed and ultimately sealed my fate.

My arrival on the Eternal Commerce was rather subdued - the guards simply handed me over to their comrades on the flagship, who then herded me through the monumental ship only to leave me on a balcony overlooking the outer doors of a full-sized, honest-to-throne Cathedral in the bowels of the ship. I will admit the sight impressed me a little. Certainly, it wasn't the biggest or most absurd thing I'd seen in my, by then, two centuries of service, but it truly put into perspective just what kind of person I was dealing with.

"Impressive place." Jurgen commented with his usual penchant for understatements. I nodded agreement, my gaze wandering over the doors that could have fit nearly two Leman Russ tanks abreast and the statues that stood on either side, massive skeletal saints standing eternal vigil over the Holy site. It was enough to give even a cynical old man like some pride in the God-Emperor.

"A bit much for a ship though." My aide continued, and I let out a low chuckle. "I suppose the space could be used to hold another armoury, or perhaps a depot for macro-cannon shells." I suggested, though I knew my sarcastic tone was lost on Jurgen. We were interrupted before he could reply, a polite cough making me turn away from the grand view.

What greeted me was a spook if ever I'd seen one; slight build beneath a decorated, ornate blue uniform with neat golden highlights, all of it cleaned and fitted to perfection. Clearly not front-line combat gear, lacking in substantial armour or anything other than what I assumed to be small concealed weapons of some kind in his pockets. Cables connected to minor augmetics ringed his skull, peeking past short dark hair, while one of his ears seemed to have been entirely replaced with a bulky vox-link. His face was sharp, with the natural look of a man used to political mind-games. Meeting my gaze, he gave a polite smile and walked closer, hands clasped behind his back. He looked every part the conniving diplomat, though his gait gave him away - he walked with the grace and lethal intent of a prowling predator. I would not be turning my back on him anytime soon.

But, at the very least, I would soon be given some answers as to why I was here.

"Magnificent, isn't it?" He asked, voice smooth and almost honeyed to my ears. He came to a stop a respectful distance away, just barely past the range of Jurgen's pungent aroma I would guess, and nodded towards the cathedral. I made a show of giving it another look over with a scrutinising eye, before giving my best commissarial nod of approval. "Really glorifies His might and the vastness of His dominion." I answered diplomatically, my hand going down to rest on the hilt of my chainsword.

The man nodded slowly, as if my answer was confirming something for him. "As is the purpose of all such temples - to inspire awe and reverence in all his subjects" He mused on that for a moment, eyes moving past me to examine the structure below before focusing back on me. "I am Kunrad Voigtvir, Master of Whispers in the service of the illustrious Theodora von Valancius. It's a pleasure."

The introduction was given with the slightest bow of his head, though his eyes remained locked on me and Jurgen, flitting occasionally between us but seeming to largely dismiss Jurgen's presence, as most tend to do when they're not close enough to smell him. I returned the nod, drawing myself up and lifting my chin to look every bit the heroic figure I was used to pretending I was. "Commissar Ciaphas Cain, assigned to the Perlia Schola Progenium."

Kunrad nodded again, his lips quirking into a smirk as he looked me over. "Believe me, even out here you don't need much introduction. However..." Trailing off, he gave me a hard look, like a pre-Schola instructor telling a juvie not to eat the sump-rats. "Know this; You are now on the ship and in the service of the Valancius Rogue Trader Dynasty. Any loyalties or duties you held before are hereby null and void."

Hah, that was almost cute. I didn't even have to fake the amused grin I gave in response even as I nodded understanding. If this 'Master of Whispers' or, hell, even the Rogue Trader herself demanded it, they could all go to the warp before they had me turning my back on the Guard, let alone the Inquisition! Still, I knew how to play the game and would go along with it until I saw fit not to. (4)

So, I simply nodded along, masking my true thoughts with the ease born from centuries of practice. "Of course. I am retired, after all - I wouldn't dream of betraying such a powerful patron." Kunrad watched my face for a moment longer before seeming to find what he wished for and accepting it. "Good. But in case you should ever forget, keep in mind." He glared, leaning forwards slightly as he made sure I heard him clearly. "I will be watching you."

His piece said, he let the words hang for a moment before whirling around, beckoning me to follow. With his back turned, I rolled my eyes and made to follow, only to stop next to Jurgen and lean close (ignoring the heightened potency of his bouquet with hard-earned practice. "Keep an eye on him, and stay at a distance." Then I followed, trusting Jurgen's unshakeable loyalty and lack of doubt in my judgement.

Now to be clear, it's not that I was directly threatened by the man - Emperor knows I've faced more terrifying men in my time, and Kunrad lacked the understated lethality that would pick him out as a true threat to my person - but there was something about him that just didn't feel quite right. Beyond just making my palms tingle, I felt almost slimy when he talked to me, as if walking through the upper-hive runoff. And considering how my life had gone so far, I'd trust my gut instinct when it was telling me that something was off.

---

After a quick trip through the corridors and halls of the ship (including a short stop to have Jurgen melt a malfunctioning servitor and leaving him to join in securing the upper decks in case of further 'malfunctions) I finally reached the head honcho herself; Theodora von Valancius, the woman who wielded more power than most could comprehend and who had gone through the trouble of dragging me across the galaxy seemingly on a whim. Kunrad had been remarkably tight-lipped just like the guards that had collected us from Perlia, and to be honest the uncertainty was starting to seriously tick me off.

I've been pulled around on errands and life-threatening missions more times than I can count , more often than not earning an ever-larger reputation for surviving them (the ones that weren't classified with the 'talk and you'll be erased' seal, courtesy of Amberley(5)). I'd grown proficient at weaselling out of boring duties I'd rather not bother with, Jurgen serving as quite the valuable road block in that sense, but it wasn't new that sometimes, some high-ranked officer would 'insist' on a meeting or my attendance to some ceremony. It's a part of life in the Astra Militarum, and especially as a man with a reputation that others want to profit from.

But rarely have I been so thoroughly kept in the dark at the behest of someone not even in the Chain of Command. I'd met Inquisitors more willing to keep me informed or at least to tell me what they need me for when they pull me into some horrendously risky mission! the thought that this could all be for some elaborate ceremony, boring parade or the whim of some highborn, inbred aristocrat who wanted to 'meet the legend'...

Needless to say, I was a little miffed when I approached. As it turned out, I probably would have been delighted at any other option. At least a mind-numbing party with haughty and inbred nobles would have been within expectations.

In any case, when I approached the Rogue Trader herself, easily identifiable by nature of being the most expensively and intricately clothed person in the room (with the most outrageous hairstyle, I might add), she was in the middle of lecturing some poor sap on planetary governing. That had little to no interest to me, so I decided to survey her entourage instead of listening in.

To the left of Theodora was a distinguished old man, one who had clearly seen service in the Navy. Even if not for the perfectly maintained Navy Officer uniform, I'd have been able to clock that by the sheer aura of Discipline and the way he stood alone. His whole demeanour screamed pride in his service and the order he maintained of his command, while a greying beard, slicked-back hair and a large augmetic eye gave him the kind of elder wisdom and authority that you almost couldn't help but respect.

On Theodora's other side was what could only be a Death Worlder. Now, Death Worlds come in a multitude of shapes, sizes and levels of Frakking You Up, but there were certain traits that let you pick them out from a crowd with incredible ease, especially with firsthand experience. This one made it all too obvious by the fact he wore more weaponry than most people wore clothes. A Hellgun at rest in his hands, a crude pump-action shotgun hanging on his chest along with a clutch of grenades, two holstered pistols on each thigh and a Melta slung over his back, the man was more of a walking arsenal than a soldier. From the barely-controlled aggression in his stance even at rest, I had no doubt he knew how to make perfect use of every single bit of it as well.

"And what's this? You let just any Militarum rabble interrupt your conversations, Lady Theodora?" The man speaking with the Rogue Trader spoke up, his voice carrying that note of noble snootiness that just rankled my Hive-World pride. I looked away from Theodora's companions to level a glare at the man, giving him my third-best commissarial glare and relishing the way he flinched back slightly, though he rallied with commendable speed. Electing to ignore him, I instead gave a shallow nod of respect to the Rogue Trader.

"I'm sure the Lady herself can determine who is worthy of her attention, no?" I asked rhetorically, the snarky condescension just barely hidden in my tone as I slip into my usual role, giving the lady a charming smile while my hand goes to rest on the pommel of my chainsword in a relaxed, confident pose.

Theodora gave me a piercing look at that, the corner of her lip twitching slightly before she gave me a nod. "Indeed I can." She noted, a harsh rebuke unnecessary due to the frigid tone of her voice. Her gaze swung back to the other man, and I watched with mild amusement as he stiffened visibly. "Now, Edelthrad, why do you remain here among the Officers, instead of attending your duties in the middle decks as I instructed you?"

"Ah- It seems your radiance has distracted me. My apologies, Lady Captain, I shall get to it at once!" The now named Edelthrad hastened to excuse himself, whirling around and rushing off with such speed he didn't even care to give me a look. Or perhaps he deemed me too far beneath his holy and noble attention?

Whatever the case, I turned my attention to the Rogue Trader, who in turn was scrutinising me with something like the fascination of a noble appreciating their newest pet rodent. Before I could think of some way to politely ask why she'd ruined my rather peaceful retirement, she nodded to herself and spoke up. "Commissar Ciaphas Cain." It was not a question, her gaze boring into me as if reading every detail of my history. "I have certainly heard much about you - almost hard not to, when the 'Hero of the Imperium' is shown in every Militarum broadcast I pick up." She chuckled, a hint of mocking amusement in her tone. "Though I dare say I'd doubt you'd do the rumours justice."

Perhaps she expected me to take offence to that? In truth, I knew all too well how ridiculously exaggerated my own Legend had become. If she wished to get me angry she'd have to do better than that, as I simply gave a placid smile and a self-conscious chuckle. "Oh, I'd have to agree. Sadly, the pictcasters and newsreels always have this annoying habit of ignoring the truth in favour of a good story."

Ironic really, that I could wholeheartedly dislike such a thing when, as a Commissar, making propaganda was part of my job description. But then, considering the life I'd lived I found it quite appropriate. (6)

Theodora seemed to agree, giving a cold smile as she either found what she was looking for in my response, or expertly covered up how she didn't. "Indeed. As it stands, you will have to prove yourself worthy of your reputation - I shall have nothing less from an Heir to the Volancius Dynasty."

I nodded along, about to offer some platitude or other off of sheer reflex only to stop short as I processed the words. Mouth open in shock, I stared at the Rogue Trader for an embarrassing (but utterly justified, I'd argue) moment only to cough into my hand. "I - I'm sorry? I must have misheard." I stated, mounting horror barely concealed in my voice as I came to understand exactly why the secrecy of my purpose here was kept for so long.

For some reason, that only made Theodora smile wider, until she seemed like a predator tormenting her next meal.

Which made it all the more fitting that Chaos chose that precise moment to strike, setting off the chain of events that would see me barrelling face-first into war, politics, and Cosmic Horrors beyond my comprehension. (7)

---

1. Had their ship been just a little slower, this would actually have been the case - and Cain would likely have been lamenting an entirely different, though perhaps equally unlikely sequence of events.

2. I do not. I may take some slight offence should others presume to mess with my favoured operatives, and thereby my wider operations, but I would not be so petty as getting upset a Commissar was fulfilling his duty. That said, however, his message arrived at a rather inopportune time preventing me from tracking him down. As things turned out, that was probably for the best.

3. More likely, they simply hadn't been told. After all, why give valuable and possibly dangerous intel to the disposable commoners working for you?

4. Given his general attitude towards altruism and any actions that do not serve his own immediate survival expressed throughout his memoirs, this may seem like a curious deviation. However, despite his self-professed cowardice and cynicism, I would note that he rarely if ever went so far as suggesting Treason outright, and with his actions showing the pinnacle of loyalty in service, it is reasonable to assume Cain held his true loyalties as a point of seldom-expressed pride. Of course, the fact betraying the Inquisition would spell the end of his life rather swiftly may also have had some influence.

5. I never put it in quite those terms, but accurate.

6. Though he had a reputation for being exceptionally easy to work with both in the Militarum and among the various propaganda mills that had spread his heroic image across the galaxy, anyone who was truly close with Cain could attest to his fondness for ranting about the tedium and annoyance he felt at having to spend hours posing and reciting pre-written lines for the pictcasters. Of particular focus was his disdain for the gaudy golden Bolt-Pistol he always had to hold, as well as the constant dismissal of Jurgen's presence entirely.

7. Indeed, his lack of comprehension serves Cain well - or else it'd be a matter to take with the Inquisition.