A/N: A quick reminder - opinions held by characters in this story don't necessarily reflect my own, and it should be remembered that they're fallible as well. Just because a character says something doesn't make it true! Keep this in mind for the upcoming chapters!

Book Two: Corruption's End

Chapter 54: The Chariot of Salvation

"Soon, soon it will come, the Time of Ending, the Time of Cycles and Rebirths. Great secrets and Greater beings will wake from their slumber!/Red shall descend upon the realm of Order, red that swallows all. In its wake, Glass shall turn to Blood, and Fell Souls shall cross the Bridge of Stars!/ Death shall be murdered, its smiling, stillborn corpse wasting away under the Sands of Time./ And in those days, legions uncountable shall march under the banner of a Fallen Star. Hear their boots, my brothers and sisters! Hear them thunder across the Galaxy! - Full Prophecy of Farseer Sylvis Tou'Her

On Gartenwald, silence reigned.

"Pyrrha Nikos? Grandmother?" Yang spluttered.

"Sergeant!" Darron bellowed, hellgun braced against his shoulder. "What is the meaning of this?"

"Quiet!" Yang bellowed, rounding on the Captain. "Now is not the time!" A hand ran through her mass of golden locks. Holy Terra this makes no sense... "You mean to tell me that your Grandmother was Pyrrha Nikos?"

Maion nodded. "And over there, the one you just punched - that was one of her sons, Garnet Tou'Her."

The eldar in question stumbled past a pair of thoroughly bewildered kasrkin, a hand clenching at his face. Blood poured out from between his fingers as he leaned against the ruined doorframe.

"Isha's underclothes!" He exclaimed. "I was punched in the face by Yang Xiao Long! And I'm alive! This is the best cycle of my life!"

"You mean... " Yang started, words failing her.

"Pyrrha Nikos was my Honored Grandmother. She arrived upon Il-Kaithe as a child, and stumbled upon my Grandfather, an eldar noble by the name of Caelus Tou'Her."

"Sergeant!" The captain called out again. "In case you've forgotten, these xenos ambushed us and mean us death!" He took aim at Maion. "Step away from her before I'm forced to kill you as well!"

"I would not advise that Captain," Amat rumbled, stepping between Yang and the Captain. His pistol was still holstered at his side, but Yang knew who was faster.

"It appears," a voice echoed out, "there has been a grave misunderstanding." One of the eldar descended from his perch on a tree, brilliant metal-feathered wings slowing his fall. His armor was a polished sky-blue, and studded with glowing red stones. "Who among you is your leader?"

"Me, xenos," Darron said, spitting in the winged one's direction. "What do you mean misunderstanding? What did you do to the team meant to meet us?"

"We are the team," Garnet said, wiping his reddened palm on his sleeve. Yang watched open-mouthed as the blood crystallized before her eyes. The winged alien shot Garnet a pointed look (from what Yang could assume… his face was hidden behind a sleek raptor-helm).

"I am Exarch Lossamdir of the Swooping Strike Shrine, and leader of this war-party. What Warlock… Garnet says is true. Our Autarch commanded us to meet with the Inquisition upon the mon'keigh world of Gartenwald. We have fired no shots, and spilled no blood."

Yang was still reeling. She and Weiss were not alone in the Galaxy, it seemed. Pyrrha had been here as well... but… grandchildren? How long ago did she arrive?

"How do you know Sergeant Xiao Long?" Darron demanded. His hellgun had not lowered.

"I'll take this one, brother mine," Garnet said. He removed his splintered helm, revealing his face. His eyes were dark and steely, but his face bore a passing resemblance to Pyrrha's. They had the same strong, angular chin. "Captain…?"

"Marius," Darron growled.

"Captain Marius," Garnet said pleasantly. "That human over there," he pointed at Yang, "is something of a family legend."

"Lies!" Chera barked. "How is that possible? All you xenos speak are lies!"

"He speaks the truth," Maion argued. "She is Yang Xiao Long, the Protector, the Golden Dragon and sister to Ruby Rose, savior of Remnant."

Hearing her sister's name from a stranger (and an eldar no less!) was too bizarre for Yang. Never mind the other bizarre titles. Her head started to pound, to ache. She sat down on the driveway, shock draining the color from her face. Amat noticed, and padded over to her, making sure to stay between her and the Captain. Befuddlement still rocked the assassin as well, and if it weren't for the situation before them, Yang would grin at his blatant confusion. Instead, she could only blink at her friend as he squatted down beside her.

"Mother told us many tales of Remnant," Garnet said. "Showed us via memory projections as well. I thought she was exaggerating about you Yang, but…" he cracked his jaw, wincing in pain. "I was clearly mistaken."

"You are simply sore because Ruby was your favorite," Maion said.

"Irrelevant," Garnet replied, waving her jab away with flecks of scarlet.

"This is too fucking rich," Williams bellowed. Like his Captain, he too bared his hellgun.

"Agreed," Chera hissed. "What kind of witch are you, Yang? Not only is your soul forfeit, but you cavort with xenos as well?"

"I don't know these people!" Yang protested. "I thought… I thought eldar-human hybrids were impossible!"

Maion sighed. She tucked her pistol into a holster at her waist, intent to show no hostility towards the kasrkin. "That is what the Imperium - and many eldar - would choose to believe." At her words, the other eldar rustled with obvious discomfort. They still held their weapons, but did not aim them at the humans. "But it is not the truth."

"They are very much possible," Garnet said. "Mother and Father were…" He flushed pink with embarrassment. "Hardly discreet about it."

Yang appraised Maion, studied the eldar's sleek features. "Pyrrha already had children," she said with disbelief. Amat nodded.

"Three of them," he corroborated. "With the hero known as Jaune Arc."

"We know," Maion said. "My mother Jauna was named after him."

Yang stared at the stars that glinted in the pure night sky. Pyrrha made it here too? Who else?

Where's Ruby?

"My war-party speaks the truth," Lossamdir said, reminding them all of his presence once more. "And Captain, while your anger is so very typical of a small-minded mon'keigh, aiming it at Yang Xiao Long is misguided."

"More Travelers!" Garnet exclaimed, ignoring the Exarch. "Do you know what this means?"

"More humans," Maion muttered.

The winged eldar leader held up his hand. "There are more pressing matters at hand than legends of long dead heroes," Lossamdir said, "even if they stand before us. We were sent here for a purpose. We seek knowledge of Josephus' goal."

"Why? So you can aid him?" Darron sneered.

The night grew darker, and Yang could feel Maion and Lossamdir's aura spike. Garnet's radiant smile wavered. Thier souls were incredibly strong, and her hackles stood on end. What are these people?

"I am already not pleased to be working with mon'keigh," Lossamdir growled. "Do not tempt me into rash actions by letting baser instincts control your words. We are of Il-Kaithe, crusaders against chaos. To suggest otherwise is the gravest of insults."

"Captain," Yang said, sensing a situation developing, "we won't gain anything by picking fights." She accepted Amat's proffered hand. He pulled her to her feet, and she dusted herself off. I shouldn't let stuff like that catch me off-guard. It's a good thing, after all! I know Weiss doesn't hate the eldar nearly as much as the rest of the Imperium does, and they appear to be powerful allies too! Plus… Pyrrha's kids!

"Sergeant," Darron said, before his eyes scanned the eldar. Each one was standing at rest, their weapons offline. "Fine." His hellgun lowered, but he kept it active. "If you are truly supposed to meet us, why did you pose as an Inquisitorial party?"

"We did no such thing," Lossamdir said. "We were merely contacted by an Inquisitor who said she could set up an information trade regarding the identity of Josephus' prize."

"We were told the party could tell us where it might be found," Darron said. The two parties went quiet. "You have no idea where it is, do you?" Beside him, Garnet shook his head, splattering droplets of scarlet on his magnificent robes.

"We do not. Do you have information regarding what he seeks?"

Darron nodded. "I do, but if you have nothing to offer me in return, I'm not inclined to share it with you. This whole… business with Sergeant Xiao Long is already proof enough not to trust you… if I didn't have reasons enough."

"I'm right here," Yang said. "And you're full of shit Captain," she added. Darron did not appreciate that. His face flushed red with rage, but she continued before he could start an outburst. "I know the whole memory projection thing is possible," she said, eyes flicking over to Amat, "but I need to know if Pyrrha was really your Grandmother. It's far too convenient for the first party of… sensible eldar I meet to be her kids."

"We are not all the spawn of mon'keigh," Lossamdir said, gesturing at his war-party. "Just Maion and Garnet." Yang rubbed at the bridge of her nose. Great. Looks like they have their own hangups about aliens. Fan-fucking-tastic.

"And yourself, Obsidian!" Garnet noted, raising a pointed finger. Lossamdir barked something in a sing-song language.

"Your request is a fair one, Yang Xiao Long," Maion said. "Ignore my uncles' squabbling. They never got along as children."

"They do seem rather close," Yang noted. Maion smiled. "Only siblings know where to dig at each other."

"I can attest to that," Maion replied, her smile widening. "But as for your request… behold." Slipping a bone-white disk into her hand, she offered to Yang. It was impossibly soft and carefully engraved, with a blue crystal embedded in its center. Closing her eyes, Maion whispered a few words. Runes bust into being, searing cobalt and circling over the disk. In mere moments, an image appeared.

Yang gaped. Before her was an image of Pyrrha Nikos, smiling and radiant. She was older, and grey had supplanted her cherry-red hair, but it was unmistakably Pyrrha. In the memory (Yang assumed it was a memory), she towered over Maion, and blossoms fluttered past her, borne on a gentle wind.

"Greetings little one," Pyrrha said, scooping up child-Maion in her arms. "What troubles you so?"

Maion cut the feed, retrieving the disk from Yang's hands. "The rest of the memory is... irrelevant."

Yang couldn't speak for awhile. So instead, she wrapped her arms around the eldar. Maion said nothing, instead choosing to return the embrace.

"This might be quite a shock for you," Yang said, pulling back. She wore a wide smile. "You probably saw all the antics we got up to back on Remnant."

"I would hardly call them antics," Garnet huffed. "Those stories were our childhood!"

Yang laughed and thumped her chest. "Well here I am! Even in the same duds!"

"This does raise a few questions, however," Maion said. "You died."

"She what?" Chera barked.

"Josephus," Lossamdir reminded them all. "We need to know what he seeks."

"You heard the man," Yang said, jerking her thumb at the winged eldar. "Cough it up, Captain."

"This is utter insanity," Darron said. Most of the anger in his voice was absent, replaced with sheer disbelief. "Have I lost my mind?"

"Not quite. But there's quite a bit the Lady Inquisitor didn't tell you," Yang said. She sighed. I suppose it's no surprise Weiss didn't tell them anything. Judging by their reaction, however, it did seem like the wiser decision.

"Your master?" Maion asked. "Why do you serve an Inquisitor?"

Laughing once more, Yang draped an arm over Amat's shoulder. He rolled his eyes, but allowed her a flickering smile. "Thing is… we're actually under a very special Inquisitor."

"You mentioned the Lady Inquisitor," Lossamdir said. "Word has spread of her deeds. She is your master?"

"Well that," Yang said with a sly grin. "And there's also the fact that she's Weiss Schnee."

"Hah!" Garnet laughed. He stepped out into the night to get a better look at Yang. "I would expect nothing less from the Ice Queen herself."

Yang's grin faltered as he approached. "She's a bit different than she was on Remnant, but yes… Weiss Schnee is an Inquisitor."

"You know of our Lady?" Chera asked. Her voice was significantly weaker. Pleading. "You know her name?"

"There's a lot we should talk about," Yang said. "You guys are seriously behind on some apparently critical stuff. But your boss is right," she added, nodding at Lossamdir. "We should probably deal with this Josephus stuff first."

Kicking her feet up on a supple leather Ottoman, Yang gestured for the eldar war-party to take a seat in the manor's living room. Most rejected her offer, preferring to watch the proceedings from afar. Garnet, however, was all too happy to take her offer, collapsing on the couch beside her.

With a sympathetic wince, she threw him a brief grin.

"Sorry about the whole..." she pointed to her cheek, "face thing." The eldar warlock laughed, the sound like intoxicating music. Inhuman. She pushed the thought down.

"I assure I am quite well," he insisted. "I didn't think my aura was significant enough to withstand such a blow, but I'm happy to learn otherwise."

"Uncle doubts himself," Maion said. "Though considering the size of his ego, you would never guess it." A glare from Darron silenced the exchange. Rolling her eyes, Yang scooted over to make room for Amat. He sat down warily, eyes flicking between each occupant of the crowded living room. Janos still fiddled with his meltagun, though he'd disconnected its power pack.

"Captain Marius," Yang said, "why don't you begin?" The kasrkin Captain had been cagey with the specifics of the mission... namely, what information they were giving to the other Inquisitorial party. Yang knew it had to do with whatever Josephus was looking for, but she remained ignorant of whatever part she played into all of it.

"Very well," Darron conceded, giving his wife a sideways glance. "Though I'm not happy about it."

"We appreciate it Captain," Maion said. Darron grumbled something but continued nonetheless.

"Ever since his fall two thousand years ago, Josephus the Corruptor has sought one thing - the Chariot of Salvation. From what My Lady has been able to ascertain, it seems as though he hit a roadblock and turned to the ruinous powers to aid him in his quest. Since then, he's been seeding cults across the Segmentum Obscurus in service to his foul Masters in exchange for information regarding the Chariot."

"This we know," Maion said, nodding at the eldar in luxuriant cream-colored armor. "Myself and Ysdrea's comrades have been culling his cults for some time now."

"A festering wound is best treated with flame," Janos said. He shifted uncomfortably when a few of the eldar nodded in agreement.

"Before he sold his soul," Darron continued, "he was a Magos in service to the Mechanicus. He kept a journal that contained every scrap of knowledge he could find on the Chariot. Several months ago... we recovered that journal." Though the eldar were outwardly calm and collected, Yang could feel their anticipation crackling through the air.

"Within the journal, an allied Magos discovered something rather disturbing..." At this, he retrieved a data slate and reluctantly handed it to Lossamdir. He took the object, but could not discern how to activate it.

"Like this, brother," Garnet said, tapping a button on the side of the slate. As his finger brushed against it, his eyes widened. It was so quick, not even Maion noticed her Uncle's shock.

"Garnet?" Yang asked.

"Ah... give me a moment," he said, retreating from the living room. "I must meditate." Lossamdir nodded his approval and the warlock departed, pulling his hood up over his bruised face.

"The data slate, Exarch," Darron reminded him. The eldar parsed the documents contained within.

"Isha be praised," he mumbled. "This must be erroneous... if not extremely outdated."

"Unfortunately not," Darron grunted. Though Yang was dying to find out what made the stoic Exarch react that way, she was pleased to see Darron notice Lossamdir's sneering contempt of chaos.

"This is a prize far beyond the ken of a Warlord," Darron said. "Even for one as influential as Josephus. An STC in any condition is a treasure like no other, but an intact one is enough to stir entire Crusades." The faces of the kasrkin went bone-white at their Captain's words. Apparently even they had remained in the dark.

"An intact STC?" Amat breathed. The sheer disbelief in his voice stirred something within Yang… something unfamiliar. The beginning of fretting worry.

"Hold up," she said, drawing the attention of everyone present. "I've tried to learn what I can of the Imperium, but I've never heard of an STC."

"It stands for Standard Template Construct," Amat explained. "The last relics of glory from the Dark Age of Technology."

"Though many eldar are loathe to admit it," Maion said, "even we hold a great deal of respect for such artifacts. They might be useless to we of Il-Kaithe, yet we still recognize their fell power."

At that, one of the cobalt-winged eldar removed his helmet. He spat before shaking strands of long black hair out of his eyes. Maion had apparently said something unpleasant.

"Okay, so Josephus wants an old relic... what of it?" Yang asked. "What do these things do?"

"They are stores of great knowledge," Chera said, "artificially intelligent data warehouses that can build anything they were programmed to... from agri-tractors to power swords."

"And this 'Chariot of Salvation'," Lossamdir rumbled, "is far more powerful than some crude agricultural device."

"What does it build?" Yang asked, a stone turning over in her artificial stomach.

"Starships," Darron answered. "No petty frigates either. Full-bore Capital ships, in a never-before seen pattern. If Josephus was correct in his findings, it's possible it has entirely new weapon systems as well… far beyond anything we've seen from the Dark Age of Technology."

"Oh," Yang said. "Yeah, that sounds… really bad."

"If it falls into Josephus' hands, it would be catastrophic," Lossamdir said. "Such an artifact in the hands of the arch-foe could spell doom for the Imperium. With it, Josephus' power would approach Abaddon's."

"Then why are you so vested in recovering it as well?" Chera asked. "If the Imperium falls, what does it matter to you?"

"Times are changing," Maion interrupted, leaning forward to place herself in the center of the conversation. "Both in the Imperium and aboard Il-Kaithe. Attitudes millennia old are shifting, and pathways once thought closed lie open once more."

Darron grunted. "Spare me your vague platitudes, xenos," he said. "'Ask not the eldar a question, for they will give you three answers, each more terrible than the last'."

Chera and the kasrkin grimaced in agreement, violet eyes hardened into chips of amethyst.

"Then allow me to be more direct," Maion said, a tint of annoyance giving her voice a commanding edge. "My Grandmother was a human, hailing from the deathworld of Remnant. The same birthplace of Yang and the Lady Inquisitor. After centuries of work and cultivating influence, ideas she held dear are taking root in the stagnant soil of Il-Kaithe. Though each of my comrades here want to deny it, they can feel the change in the song of their minds, in the chorus of souls that is the Infinity Circuit. Tell me Asillar," she said, turning to face the unmasked eldar. "Tell me I am wrong."

He said nothing, but his lips curled in contempt. A few of his fellow eldar shook their heads.

"Lies," one of the cream-colored ones muttered.

Maion locked eyes with Yang. "A flame of hope rekindles itself in the breast of every soul aboard Il-Kaithe, though none can say exactly why."

"Careful Maion," Lossamdir warned. "The Mon'Keigh need to know little and less of Il-Kaithe."

"I was not speaking to you, Lossamdir… I speak to Obsidian, your host. Search his soul. The answer is us, Uncle. The hybrids. The children of Pyrrha Nikos."

A hiss of disgust rippled through the eldar, but those with their faces exposed were clearly conflicted. Maion's words had touched them in some way.

"And how does this answer my question?" Darron asked. "I'm afraid I care little and less about the fate of your Craftworld. But the question remains… why does the fate of the Imperium matter to you, xenos?"

Amat sighed. "May I, Captain Marius?" Darron hesitated, but gestured acquiescence. "Maion's words are clear to me - the fate of the Imperium and the eldar is intertwined, more so than ever before."

"That is precisely it!" Garnet thundered, returning to the living room in a storm of energy.

"Your aura's returned," Yang noted. "Pretty fast," she added. Garnet nodded, set alight with an onset of nervous energy.

"It has, enough so that I was able to safely swim the treacherous current of the warp… divine the purpose of our meeting."

"Uncle?" Maion asked.

Garnet's finger reached out towards the huddle, long and spindly. Its gaze rested on Yang, heavy with import.

"Her destiny lies within the Black Library. The fate of so many souls rest upon her shoulders, it is… it is blinding."

Every head turned to examine Yang, who squirmed uncomfortably in her seat. "What… what do you mean Garnet?" She asked.

"Josephus, the Chariot of Salvation… the Travelers… the threads of fate all knot upon her, and they all lead to the Black Library. That was the purpose of our meeting," he insisted, turning to face his brother. "The last piece of the puzzle… where the Chariot rests… the answer lies with her, and the Black Library of Chaos."

A pall settled over the eldar, and Yang noticed a few of them turn the lightest shade of green.

"And what of us, Uncle?" Maion asked. "What does the future hold for us?"

"Blackness," Garnet whispered. "I see naught but blackness."

A/N: And thus, the Chariot 'reveal'! The MacGuffin has an identity... and a terrifying one at that.

Thanks for all your reviews these past couple chapter! I really appreciate every last one!