"Are the White Scars showing off their speed to the Custodians, trying to reclaim their pride in velocity?"
The Captain-General of the Custodian Guard watched the White Scar warriors vanish into the distance, thoughtful.
He felt no anger.
After all, the Custodians were the finest warriors in every respect.
No other Imperial warriors could compare—whether in combat prowess, equipment, or the speed of their vehicles.
Even if the White Scars had been granted new mounts, they could not possibly match the Custodians.
"Before this Webway corridor ends, catch up to those warriors and leave them behind."
The Captain-General gave his command, voice steady and severe as ever.
As the Emperor's own guardians, their dignity was never to be challenged in any way. They were duty-bound to demonstrate their supremacy before all others.
To remind every soul in the Imperium:
The Custodians are the strongest. They alone are worthy of guarding the Emperor!
The last time they had competed—during the "Wellness Regimen" endurance challenge—they had lost to the son of the Savior, that Extreme Warrior Titus.
That humiliation had burned deeply.
The Custodians had been harshly scolded for it, and ever since, had devoted themselves to specialized training. Next time, they would reclaim their lost victory from Titus.
And now, the sons of the White Scars had challenged them in speed.
They would show the true meaning of velocity.
Boom—
The Dawn Eagle grav-jet's engines roared, belching graet plumes of fire.
The Custodian squad surged forward, closing rapidly on Jubal and his White Scars.
This was one of the Dawn Eagle's hidden functions—forcing the engines into overburn, increasing speed by at least fifty percent. It was a secret capacity of the Custodians.
"No Imperial warriors have ever forced the Custodians to reveal this speed. The White Scars should be proud enough."
So thought the Captain-General.
If not for the Aeldari's shadow-tech cloaking their trails, such speed alone would have guaranteed success in pursuit.
"White Scar warriors, your speed truly is remarkable."
The Captain-General drew his squad alongside, his voice calm but firm: "But it is not enough to challenge the Custodians. You still need—"
But before he could finish, a stronger plume of exhaust fire washed over him.
"What—?!"
Jubal pretended not to hear, but inside he was laughing wildly.
He had been waiting for this moment, waiting for the Custodians to draw close—otherwise, how could he deliver the ultimate humiliation?
Back then, it had been the Custodians who had shamed the White Scars in such a way.
Now… times had changed.
The White Scars' bikes pushed into full overdrive, their engines screaming to double their speed—one hundred percent more!
This was the gift of their foster-father, the Savior-Primarch, the Hope of Mankind. The best vehicle series in the galaxy, continually improved so that the White Scars would forever hold the title of the Imperium's fastest.
"For the Savior! For the Khan!"
The White Scar warriors roared their war cries, surging ahead once more.
Whoosh—
They became a white lightning bolt, vanishing into the depths of the Webway, leaving the Custodians choking in their wake.
The ion wash of the exhaust disrupted the Custodians' bikes, forcing them into a stumbling halt.
This time, the Dawn Eagles could not even taste the White Scars' dust.
The White Scars' machines had surpassed them—by far.
"Damn it…"
The Captain-General could almost feel the White Scars' exhaust blasting across his face. His composure finally cracked, his blood boiling.
In speed… they had been beaten. Utterly.
An awkward silence hung over the Custodian squad.
All bowed their heads, while the echo of the White Scars' mocking laughter rang in their ears, leaving them feeling like fools.
At last, the Captain-General broke the tension.
"Perhaps… we must make use of vehicles like the White Scars' if we are to pursue the xenos."
They could not waste time. If the Emperor's clone body was brought to life, the disaster it would unleash upon the Imperium was unimaginable.
That was a fate the Imperium could never endure.
"Judging from the insignia, those mounts were crafted in the Savior's Forge Worlds."
One Custodian spoke, and the rest grew somber.
For it was true—only the Savior-Primarch, the Hope of Mankind, could forge such superior machines, surpassing even the outputs of the Imperial Palace's own forges.
In more and more fields, their unique Custodian brilliance was being eclipsed by him. And they could not protest.
For the Hope of Mankind was the Emperor's chosen heir, the uncrowned King of Holy Terra, and master of legions of Titan God-Machines standing sentinel upon the Throneworld itself.
The Custodians themselves had received Titans from him as gifts.
He was, undeniably, their greatest patron.
The Captain-General could not help but feel a pang of bitterness.
Why had the Savior never gifted the Custodians with new bikes as well?
Perhaps their bond with him was not strong enough.
He turned to his communications officer. "Analyze the data packets transmitted by the White Scars. Somewhere in there will be their rally point coordinates."
Normally, White Scar strike groups maintained such rally points as temporary bases. Find them, and they could requisition their vehicles.
The communications officer set to work, feeding the data into the Dawn Eagle's machine-spirit cogitators.
Beep—
An alert appeared. The file could not be opened.
"???"
The Captain-General and his officer exchanged incredulous glares, fury rising.
Since when did the Custodians lack clearance to open Imperial files? What nonsense was this?!
They traced the encryption source. It bore the unique defensive signature of the Savior's domain.
The Captain-General felt his throat tighten.
Indeed, the Custodians could not bypass such encryption—not without the Machine-Goddess's highest sanction.
The officer spoke awkwardly: "We may have to request access from the White Scars, or directly from the Savior himself. Without it, we cannot leverage the Spiritnet."
The Captain-General's shoulders slumped, bitterness burning. "I will contact the Savior. We cannot delay the mission.
I warned them long ago—the Custodians should not have been barred from joining the Savior's Spiritnet!"
It was a legacy issue, born of the Great Reform on Terra.
When the Savior seized the High Lords' Council and became its Lord Commander, he unleashed sweeping reforms.
Almost every Imperial institution was integrated into his Spiritnet.
Data flowed freely between them, communication was instantaneous, efficiency soared, and information became accessible everywhere.
But the Custodians had refused.
Their conservatives claimed that plugging into a common network would make them vulnerable to constant surveillance, and would expose too many secrets.
Thus, they remained offline, isolated.
The result? Their intelligence network lagged behind the Imperium's, always one step slower.
They seemed like simpletons.
So often, the Custodians were forced to shuffle over to the Inquisition or other branches, begging for scraps of intelligence that the rest of the Imperium already knew.
After all, the Machine-Goddess's Spiritnet could flash information across the galaxy in moments. Every device received it.
It was as simple as scrolling a data-slate. Far more convenient than astropathic choirs.
And so, to the rest of the Imperium, the Custodians now looked like some backward, un-networked village folk—clueless, behind the times.
For instance, if a rebellion broke out in some sector, it might take years to reach Terra by conventional channels.
But through the Spiritnet, Holy Terra received word in mere days. Every relevant department could read it in the Imperial Daily and mobilize accordingly.
By the time Imperial fleets set out—or even reached rebellious sectors to carry out punitive strikes—the Custodians might only just be receiving intelligence through the Emperor's Eye, frantically sending warnings to departments that already knew.
Even the Webway maps they needed had long been uploaded into the Spiritnet's cartographic program, constantly updated in real-time.
High-authority officials across the Imperium could access these maps at will, making their duties far easier.
This was the true reason behind the White Scars' recent surge in effectiveness.
Once, they fought as if blundering through fog.
Now, it was as though the entire map had been revealed, with allies continuously tagging locations and updating intelligence. Down to the unit. Point and strike.
All they had to do was ride, following the data, cutting down the enemy as they went.
By contrast, the Custodians were in an awkward situation. Fortunately, they still possessed communications gear linking them to the Hope of Mankind himself.
They opened a special channel.
Almost immediately, a voice both commanding and dignified came through:
"Custodians. Why do you seek me?"
At that voice, the Captain-General straightened, his tone softening:
"My lord Savior… we are investigating a heretical matter concerning the Emperor himself. The trail led us into the Dark Eldar's Webway…"
He laid out the situation in detail, and humbly requested assistance.
Soon enough, through the Savior-Primarch's intervention, Jubal and his White Scar warriors received orders to return. They guided the Custodians back to their temporary rally point.
...
The White Scars' Webway Encampment
Force-fields shimmered across the perimeter. Heavy batteries stood ready, while the looming forms of Titan God-Machines kept silent vigil.
All this—belonged to the White Scars.
It was the privilege of being the Savior's sons, even if only his adopted ones.
Jubal climbed into the cockpit of his Hawk bike, a broad grin on his face.
"Captain-General, it seems we'll be fighting side by side."
He had accepted the Savior's orders. His company of White Scars would assist the Custodians in hunting down the heresy that touched upon the Emperor himself.
Their speed had been proven beyond dispute—even the Custodians had to admit they needed them.
Something to boast about for centuries.
"Then I thank you for your assistance, White Scar War-Leader."
The Captain-General's face was stiff as he climbed into the Hawk's sidecar. His earlier pride was nowhere to be found.
They had hoped to requisition the White Scars' bikes, but the Savior had decreed otherwise: Custodians must fight with the White Scars, not just use their machines.
For only the White Scars had the mastery of speed to truly harness them.
The Hawks had even been modified with sidecars, able to carry passengers and heavier weaponry.
Thus, the Custodians sat in the sidecars like oversized children, visibly displeased, but with little choice.
Their disgrace was twofold: outpaced, and forced to rely on others.
Still, they adapted quickly, setting aside pride to focus on the mission.
But they swore—upon returning, they would train until no shame like this could ever befall them again.
Whoosh—
The White Scars roared forward, Custodians in tow, a living spear through the Webway.
"Truly… the Savior's bikes are far superior to the Dawn Eagles…"
The Captain-General admitted this bitterly from his sidecar, already plotting how best to beg the Savior for such machines.
He opened his dataslate.
Their squad had been granted Spiritnet devices and clearance by the Savior himself.
At last, the Custodians were online.
Though he had studied the Spiritnet before, experiencing it was staggering.
He could summon information across its span at will. Countless users supplied updates in real-time.
It was as though the entire Imperium lay open before his eyes.
He skimmed the Imperial Daily feed:
Ophelia VII of the Storm Sector has driven back a daemonic incursion with the Savior's aid. A grand ceremony has been held. The local bishop vows to construct a voidborne shrine-statue in his honor.
Red Corsair raids surge again in the Maelstrom. Rumor claims Huron Blackheart himself was wounded in a shadowy ambush.
Fenris, in the Gloom Sector, reports the reappearance of a colossal void-whale. The Space Wolves mobilize to prevent devastation to nearby realms.
The Dark Eldar have struck at Mechanicus laboratories, stealing both biotech and relics. Some signs point to the Dark Mechanicum's hand.
The Imperial Regent has arrived in the Glaia system of the Forge Belt, preparing sweeping reforms and full Spiritnet integration.
Abaddon the Despoiler suffers a resource crisis. Several warbands have abandoned him. Yet preparations continue for a Fifteenth Black Crusade…
Of course, the most sensitive data was permission-locked. Different ranks, different branches, different access.
But the Savior had granted the Custodians exceptionally high clearance—to aid in tracking the Emperor's clone.
Opening the mapping application, the Captain-General gasped.
Every corridor, every stronghold, every enemy marker was clearly laid out.
Even higher-level maps revealed the entire Imperium, in layered detail.
Some regions remained beyond the Spiritnet, reduced to the barest notes.
"This… this will revolutionize our missions. Compared to this, our old networks were worthless!"
The Captain-General marveled at the Spiritnet's sheer power.
And this was with only five percent of the galaxy covered.
When it spread further, Terra would have true dominion. Instant reaction.
"What is this… 'Imperial Forum'?"
He noticed an app marked with a fiery icon, and opened it.
It was, essentially, a message board—like the Mechanicus' water-threads. Gossip, rants, strange tales.
Inquisitors were particularly active.
He found it strangely addictive, scrolling far too long.
Then—
"Damnable thieves, traitors, heretics! They must be judged!"
His face flushed crimson, fury boiling.
For before him was a pinned, viral post.
An image showed a Blood Raven riding a golden Custodian jetbike—his comrades edited into a collage of confused, humiliated expressions.
The title blared in bold red:
SHOCKING!!! Blood Ravens Claim to Have "Found" Custodian Jetbikes—Now Selling Them on a Chaos Black Market!
The anonymous poster claimed to be infiltrating a heretic bazaar when the Blood Ravens swaggered in, openly hawking jetbikes as if they were trophies.
Most buyers recoiled, until a Rogue Trader showed interest.
The poster insisted he was undercover on a separate case, and had merely stumbled across this.
After all, traders, Inquisitors, and even Astartes agents often prowled the Imperium's shadow-markets.
But another user quickly replied beneath:
"Don't lie, I can see your stall right now!"
"???"
The anonymous poster weakly typed a row of question marks.
The thread exploded, rocketing into the trending list.
Most lurked in silence, but liked it furiously, pushing it higher.
Clearly, many across the Imperium enjoyed mocking the Custodians.
After all, the jetbikes weren't even rare tech.
But because they belonged to the Custodians, they were priceless curiosities.
"Discussion of Custodians is forbidden! Delete this post immediately!"
The Captain-General typed furiously, threatening the poster.
It was a humiliation too far. All thanks to those damned Blood Raven renegades.
But the anonymous reply came back swiftly:
"Coward. Only high-clearance users are here. And the Custodians aren't even online.
Relax. We'll just enjoy the laugh.
What can they do—reach through the Spiritnet and arrest me?
Anyway—check my next post, brothers! Guess what ELSE was inside that jetbike?"
(End of Chapter)
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