Chapter 17, (Petra)

Primarch Petra of the Iron Warriors – the Fourth Astartes Legion – stood alone on a plateau overlooking the still-burning ruins of the Imperial Fist fortification on the desert world of Hydra Cordatus. Each step beneath her foot crunched with the sound of broken glass where the sand had been burned into crystal. The air was thick was the stench of ozone and ash and Petra found it good. "Our retribution begins at last," the Tyrant of Olympia murmured to herself, relishing the sight of the proud black and yellow banners of the Imperial Fists burned in the wind. Mere hours ago, Cordatus had been… not thriving, but populated. An Imperial colony in the making, aided in its expansion and construction through the efforts of the industrious seventh legion. But now, the desert world was a silent grave, the bodies of its defenders – what remains had not been incinerated – now lay broken and bloody on the scorched ground.

"Let the sands swallow them," Petra murmured as her daughters marched in tight, orderly formations back into their drop ships. "Let the sting of humiliation alone be how they remember this loss."

Finally. After years upon years of humiliation, taking the jobs that her sisters thought themselves above, suffering in ignoble silence as the acclaim her and her daughters had earned were delivered to others instead, finally, Petra felt a sense of justice. This, all of this, was vengeance centuries in the making. And it was only the beginning. Regalia Dorn, praetorian, architect, hated rival. The Iron Warriors were coming for her and her legion. Let her built the walls of Terra, and Petra shall bring them down all the same. She will drag Dorn from within and force her to kneel in the ashes as the Iron Warriors burned down all she had built. Only then… only when every slight and insult and humiliation had been paid back a thousand-fold… only then would Dorn have Petra's permission to die.

"You look happy," a voice, languid, velvety, and unmistakably male – interrupted Petra's brooding. She turned and found the daemon Baren smirking idly at her, his crystalline wings fluttering and glimmering in the light of the dying sun. "Or maybe not, its hard to tell a pleased scowl from your regular scowl." When Petra didn't answer him, he sighed and rolled his eyes. "I take it that the Warmaster has told you who I am?"

"You are Isis's pet daemon," Petra remarked.

A strange look crossed Baren's angelic face, as though he was torn between indignation and amusement. "If that is what the Warmaster has called me, then it must be true." The daemon lazily cast his gaze out across the ruins of Cordatus… and smiled. "My, I was told the daughters of Petra were thorough, but this…" He waved his clawed hand in a wide, sweeping gesture, encompassing all the ruin left in the Lady of Iron's wake. "This is something else."

"My legion follows every order to the letter," Petra retorted. She gestured to the ruined landscape. "This is but a small taste of our diligence."

"Ah, but it's not just diligence is it, Primarch Petra," Baren admonished with a wagging finger. "No, I can see into the stony hearts of you and your daughters, Lady of Iron. Destruction like this takes more than duty. It takes grit and hate, resentment and vengeance. This is a work of true passion!" The daemon purred the word, savoring it like some exquisite and exotic wine. His smile was all teeth, grinning at Petra with gleaming daggers of polished ivory. "Tell me, Lady Petra, what terrible crime has solemn Regalia committed against you and yours to warrant such retribution?"

The Primarch sharply turned to the demon, a stormy scowl set firmly on her face. "Do not become too familiar, daemon. We may both serve the Warmaster, but we are allies of convenience at best. I have no intention of offering anything to you or the Warp-spawned abomination you call your god."

Baren clutched his heart as though wounded. "Oh, such cutting words, Lady Petra," he pouted, though his dark eyes glittered with amusement. "And here I thought we might be friends."

 "I do not need, nor do I want your "friendship", daemon," the Primarch seethed. "Now leave me be!"

"Now don't be like, Petra," Baren murmured. "I think you and I can be wonderful friends." When the Primarch did not budge, he smiled impishly. "Hmm, you know what you need? A vacation." He offered her a hand. "Come, let me show you all my paradise has to offer."

Petra looked at the offered hand in disgust and sneered at the daemon. "What I need is for you remove yourself from my sight. I have no interest in whatever you call paradise, abomination."

Baren took her vitriol with an easy smile. "Oh, Petra," he sighed wistfully. The daemon stepped closer to her, and smiled down at Petra's glaring face. "I wasn't asking."

The daemon snapped his fingers and before Petra could even react, a warp portal bled into real-space right beneath her feet. Petra could do nothing but struggle and snarl as the whirling vortex swallowed her up – armor and all – into the yearning maw of the Immaterium. Baren gave her a cheery wave as she disappeared into the Warp before diving in himself.

Petra fell down the yawning screaming abyss of madness and delirium that was the Warp for even she couldn't tell how long. In a realm where time was a half-hearted suggestion at best she could have been falling for a few minutes, centuries, or even not even a second and it all would have felt the same. All that mattered in the end was where she ended up.

And where she ended up just happened to be a hot spring.

The hot spring was deep enough to comfortably fit the Primarch and the water – though surely hot enough to boil a base human alive – was a comfortable temperature for her transhuman form. Petra was dropped from the warp tear into the pool, the portal sealing shut behind her as she fell beneath the surface. There was a split second of Petra flailing about beneath the water trying to right herself before she got her wits about her and made for the surface. She broke the water with a splash, her dark hair hanging in long black tresses that clung to her face and shoulders. Furious, Petra swam towards the edge of the spring, too angry to wonder why her cumbersome power armor did not slow her down at all. It was only when she had reached the stony sides of the pool where an outcrop of stone provided a natural seat for her did she realize why her armor had not dragged her back below the surface.

It was because she wasn't wearing any armor.

At some point during her transition between realities, Petra's power armor and body suit had been stripped from her, leaving her powerfully built and voluptuous bronzed body bare save for two flimsy strips of swimwear that just barely covered her shame. The fact that the bikini was colored in grey and yellow hazard stripes was just the tip of the humiliating and infuriating iceberg that was Petra's current situation.

"See? Isn't that better already?" And, like some twisted parody of an angel descending from heaven, Baren hovered above the hot spring, his wings flapping in a shifting, mesmerizing swirl of lights and colors. He lowered himself into the boiling spring with a pleased sigh, leaning against the side languidly.

Petra was not amused. "I don't have time for your games, daemon," she growled. "Return me to my legion!"

Baren, eyes closed and contently relaxing, answered simply. "I'm afraid I won't do that, Petra. Not yet anyway. Just relax and take the weight off your shoulders. All that stress isn't good for you, you know?"

The Primarch glared at him. "I'm leaving," she flatly remarked.

She started to climb out the hot spring, droplets of water clinging to her busty, amazonian body. Behind her, Baren idly remarked. "I wouldn't~" Petra ignored him and marched away from the hot spring only to stop when she realized the next step would have led to a very long fall.

Only now did Petra realize that the hot spring was located atop a towering mountain spire. The mountain rose far into the sky, above the very clouds themselves. It rivalled even the tallest of hive-city rises and for miles upon miles, all Petra could see was an endless sea of white unbroken clouds. Petra spun around, murder in her eyes

Baren simple smiled at her. "I warned you~" he sang.

Petra could only glare. "You will return me to my legion," she commanded.

The daemon continued to smile. "I already told you that's not going to happen just yet. You could try climbing or even jumping down if you want, but it's a long way down. I know the Empress built you girls to be sturdy, but… are you really going to risk it?" Sinking further into the scalding water, he added. "Besides, even if you did get manage to reach the ground, you won't be able to find any ships and I doubt there's anyone sober or sane enough to remember where their buried, let alone how to fly one across the galaxy."

"And what is to stop me from killing you here regardless?" Petra challenged, trying to sound intimidating. Her efforts were admittedly undercut by the fact even the smallest movements sent her breasts jiggling in this damnable swimwear.

"Aside from the fact you have not even a single weapon on you?" Baren asked. "Unless you wish to try and smother me," he added with a grin, taking a long and lascivious glance at Petra's mighty bust. His tone made it clear he would not mind such a fate, much to her consternation. "There's also that currently I'm the only thing keeping here," he gestured to the surrounding landscape. "From falling into there," he finished, pointing towards the sky.

Petra followed his hand… and felt her blood run cold. In her fury at being stranded atop a mountain, she had never bothered to look up and only now did she realize that what lay above her was far more dangerous than what laid below. Stretching across the sea of stars like blood in the water was swirling, pulsing, screaming warp-rift. She could feel it, the screaming of the abyss, the dark whispers of its denizens, and in her heart of hearts, she felt the Eye of Terror resonate in unity with its sister-rift. By killing the daemon, this place, this planet, it would be consumed by the rift.

She was truly trapped.

The Primarch turned back towards Baren and the daemon grinned at her. Petra scowled. "What you want, daemon?" she demanded.

"Oh, nothing you'll miss," Baren answered, playing coy.

"I'm not giving you my soul," Petra was quick to shoot down.

"Now who said anything about your soul?" Baren asked, feigning innocence. It was a poor look for him. He splashed a bit of water in her direction with his tail. "Come, join me, the water's perfect."

Realizing that the daemon was not going to let her go until he got whatever it was he wanted for her, Petra huffed… but did as bided. So, very reluctantly, she stepped back into the hot spring, lowering herself into water hot enough to boil most humans alive, but for her it was pleasantly warm.

Baren smirked, evidently satisfied, even though Petra made sure she was on the opposite side of the spring. "See?" he asked, his forked tail lazily floating in the water. "Isn't that better?"

"No," Petra answered coldly, not willing to indulge the daemon any more than she had to. "Now what do you want from me?"

"Oh, nothing much," the daemon insisted, holding his hands up defensively. "Just a chance for you to relax and get to know you. Shouldn't we get better acquainted? As "allies"?"

"If that is what is required for me to leave this place, then fine," Petra begrudged, folding her arms beneath her heaving bust. "What do you want to know?"

"Well… why have you joined the Warmaster?" Baren asked, his dark eyes narrow and curious as he waited for Petra's answer. "What was it that mother dearest did to send you running to Isis?"

The Primarch frowned, irritated by how… asinine Baren made the question sound. As if it was some mundane family drama than a galaxy-wide civil war. Still, she gave him her answer. "The Empress… did not use my talents correctly."

"Talents in siege warfare?" Baren asked, half-serious and half-mocking.

Petra sent him a withering look, not even noticing as he slid a little closer to her. "That is not where my greatest strengths like. I am not just a siege-smith, I am a builder, an architect!" Control momentarily slipped away from the Primarch, and her voice had raised from a caustic whisper to a near-thunderous shout.

Baren listened intently, an easy smile still playing on his lips. "Ah… such passion~" he purred, savoring the trace amounts of repressed resentment and ire. He liked what he tasted. Years of hate and hidden desires aged like a fine wine. "It's a beautiful thing really. Still… you say you're are an architect, Petra? Tell me then, what wonders have you built?"

The Lady of Iron faced him, her expression blank, before lowering her gaze to stare pensively into the water. "None," she confessed, her voice a dark murmur. "I was never given the chance."

"The talents of one overlooked by the many, it's a familiar story, my dear," Baren remarked, almost sympathetic. "I myself dreamed the same as you once…"

Petra raised her head sharply, her eyes blazing with almost murderous fury. If looks could kill, Baren would be a dead man many times over. "You don't know the things I dream!" Petra hissed, marching upon him. Her furious movements sent her heavy tits swaying, much to the daemon's delight. "No one does! No one ever cared enough to find out!"

"But I care now, Petra," Baren argued, attempting to soothe the Primarch's flaring temper. "It is my purpose to know the desires of others," his tail slithered beneath the water and gently wrapped around Petra's leg, rubbing in soothing motions. "Tell me," he breathed, as Petra's breaths grew heavy. "What is it you desire, Petra?"

The Primarch was silent for a time as she thought heavily on the question. At last, she answered, her voice soft. "When my gestation capsule landed on Olympia, I was found by a local king. He raised me along his sons and daughter, and called me the greatest among them." Petra sneered, trying to hide an old pain. "But he could only think in wars and conquest. I better served him as a general than an architect. Hmph," Petra snorted and sat down, not noticing she did so closer to Baren then before. "So that's what I did. I waged war upon war and when I was done, there was only one kingdom. One Olympia."

"And when there could be no more war, you would finally make your dreams a reality," Baren guessed. "Am I right?"

"That was the idea," Petra admitted. "When all of Olympia was at my command, I thought that I might finally be free." The Primarch sighed, "but then…"

The daemon smirked. "Mother dearest came calling?"

"Yes," Petra seethed. "And you know what the worst thing was? I was so happy to finally meet her. All my life I had been told I had been a gift from the gods, that all my accomplishments were the work of outdated superstition than my own hands. And when she arrived, I was vindicated. I was the product of human ingenuity, not heathen magic. I thought I was finally free to pursue my true purpose… only to realize my true purpose wasn't what I thought it was."

"You wanted to be an architect… ah but the Empress needed another weapon," Baren chuckled and slid a little closer. Petra barely seemed to notice. "But trying to end war on a galaxy-wide scale has been a bit harder hasn't it?"

"It wouldn't even be that bad," Petra distantly remarked. She was relaxing a little, kicking her feet lightly in the spring, but not trying to shake off his tail. The tip of which now brushed against her inner thigh. "I believed her when she told me it was all a grim necessity. That when humanity stood dominant, then we could build a golden age unlike any seen before." Petra's mood suddenly shifted and a dark look crossed her face. "But then I met her."

Baren smiled suddenly. "Regalia, I take it?"

The Primarch turned to him, blazing fury in her eyes, but not directed at the daemon. "Yesss," the Lady of Iron seethed. "Everything that should have been mine, every victory, every project, even adulation, it all went to her instead. At every turn, at every battle, the accomplishments of me and my legion were overshadowed by Dorn. For years I had to put up with every insult, every injury, every little unspoken slight against me." Petra voice had risen from a bitter whisper to a furious shout. The more she spoke, the more she poured her heart out and confessed to each and every dark resentful thought that had crossed her mind, the easier confession became until she was openly ranting at the daemon. "But the worst of it… the very worst insult… was when the Empress wanted to redesign the Imperial Palace. I thought that after so long I might finally have my chance… and she gives it to DORN!"

Petra furiously pounded her fist into the side of the spring, cracking stone and sending violent ripples across the water. Baren watched her with a hungry smile, savoring the exquisite blend of wrath and heartache. He drew even closer, now sitting right beside the Primarch, brushing against her thick thighs and heavy breasts. "Keep going," he purred, placing a hand on Petra's thigh. "Confession is good for the soul I've heard…"

"It should have been ME!" Petra seethed, her eyes blazing like warpfire. "It should have been me! After everything I've done, everything I've been through! The sieges, the Hrud, the decades upon decades of unquestioning service, and still I'm cast aside in favor of DORN! No more! No more. If the path to retribution lies with Isis then so be it! If I return to Terra, it will be to break the Imperial Fists. If I am to see Dorn again, it will only after I've dragged her broken and bleeding body from the ruins of her 'impenetrable' palace!"

"Revenge," Baren purred, his dark eyes glimmering in twisted delight. "Now we're talking." The daemon grinned and squeezed Petra's thigh, the tips of his claws ticking her inner leg. "Well, this has been most enlightening, Petra. Still… I think you may have the wrong idea…"

The Primarch turned to him, her tirade had left her face red, and she was breathing heavily, the pale peaks of her massive breasts rising and falling in the water's surface. "And just what am I wrong about?" She asked, trying to sound threatening despite having no leverage.

Baren grinned. "Well, it seems to me that all your problems are your own fault." A look of utter outrage crossed Petra's face and when she began to protest, Baren silenced her with a harsh squeeze of her thick thigh. "Hush~" he purred "And let me finish. You, Petra, have been living your whole life for someone else's benefit. Your father, the Empress, and now Isis. The only thing keeping you from doing what you want to that you feel beholden to them. That you 'owe' them something. Perhaps its time to start living for yourself? Who knows," he grinned and leaned over to the Primarch, whispering into her ear. "Maybe I can help you learn how~"

Petra sneered, but did not pull away, her cheeks flush. "A-and… and just what makes you think I want your help?" She asked.

The daemon smiled, every ivory tooth gleaming brightly. "Well," he began, sounding so infuriatingly smug. "You've haven't been complaining so far~" His finger flexed, and Petra suddenly stiffed. Her eyes widened as a soft sudden moan left her lips. Only now did Petra realize that Baren's hand had left her thigh and was now slipped beneath her bikini bottom, fingering her soaking cunt beneath the water.

"I-you-ugn…" Petra was struggling to even think right now. That was fine for Baren though, overthinking things usually ruined the experience. The Primarch growled, finding her voice at last. "Fuck you, daemon."

Baren merely smirked. "That's the idea my dear~" His tail slipped beneath her bikini bottom and with a rip! tore it off her hips.

Petra yelped, but it swiftly turned into another glare. "Fine then," she spat, before raising herself out of the water. The sight of her fit and voluptuous body rising out of the pool, droplets of water clinging to her slender stomach and the vast undersides of her tanned breasts was deeply enjoyable. Petra planted her firm ass on the edge of the pool and spread her thighs apart, bearing her dripping cunt to the daemon. "Lick," she commanded.

The daemon grinned. So that's how she wants to play it, eh? He resisted the urge to chuckle, and he lowered himself between Petra's legs. Fine, I'll play. The Primarch glared at him as his forked tongue approached her neglected sex, trying to look more in control than she felt. She couldn't hide her emotions from Baren however, and he purred in delight as he felt her shiver when his tongue pressed against her wet cunt.

His hands moved up along the powerful ridges of Petra's thighs to grope at her ass instead. She sighed and nodded in approval as he started feeling her up, massaging the curves of her body all while he lapped at her wet pussy. "Ye-yes, yesss…" Petra sighed, her hands grabbing hold of Baren's hornes as she shook her hips and rubbed herself against his writhing tongue. The illusion of control faded with each passing second as the Lady of Iron lost herself more and more to the sinful pleasure. Her thick, powerful thighs wrapped themselves tight around Baren's throat. Were he mortal, his neck likely would've been snapped.

As it was, however, he merely growled in hungry delight and continued to eat out the Primarch's gushing cunt. Above him, Petra was pushed further and further towards the edge. "You… mgrrr… I, oh FUCK!" the Primarch stammered and stuttered, growing ever closer to that blissful, mindless release, "You pervert- fuck… don't…" Eyes wild, Petra lifted her hips a little harder, and Baren grunted and slapped a big hand over her sweaty midriff. Hard enough to force the Primarch's back against the ground, and to take away any control that Petra might have wanted to claim. He pressed harder into the apex of Petra's shaking legs, each of which were now thrown over his shoulders.

Petra's nails dug deep grooves into the earth under her, and her breathy, whining gasps grew more ragged and mindless. Eyes rolling up into her pretty head, Petra briefly forgot about her kidnapping, her rivalry with Dorn, or even the Empress and Isis. Then her own tongue hung loosely from her painted lips, and Petra's eyes subtly crossed, and she let out a wild, bestial cry and squirted all over the powerful face stuffed into her cunt.

Even held under Baren's weight, poor Petra did her best to ride her lover's face as she sprayed him with a clear waterfall of girlcum. Petra didn't just hit one messy peak, Baren milked spasm after spasm out of his drooling prey, and neither of the lovers could think of a better place to be at that moment in time. Petra's breaths continually rose to dizzying screams, which then trailed off until she had gathered enough breath to do it all over again. And her long legs, pushed painfully open and shaking in the air, twitched along with each and every pulse of pleasure that shot up Petra's spine and left her half mad.

Moaning into his lover's pretty pussy, Baren wrapped his lips around Petra's whole sex so he could properly lap at her clit, milking more screams and whines out of the poor woman. Petra was fucking cumming, almost non-stop, and this fucking animal refused to let up for a second even as the endless orgasm shifted from blissful to almost painful. Not that she had any choice but to take it - Petra's limbs were limp and rubbery, and even if she could control her legs Petra would probably just wrap them around Baren and keep him in place!

Finally Petra gave one more painful looking arch of her back, then just about passed right out on the spot. Baren pulled off of her sloppy cunt, gently stroking through Petra's swollen folds as he greedily swallowed the messy cream this cat had fed him, and he even slipped a hand under Petra's heart shaped ass to bring her to his lips for a final victory lap. The Primarch was in no state to talk back, much as she tried to gather her strength for a catty remark, and when she did finally manage to lift her head Petra was met with a breathtaking image that was instantly burned into her mind. Baren stared back into Petra's half-lidded eyes, gently running his huge tongue up and down the inside of her slick thighs.

At last, Baren pulled back, a smug victorious grin on his laps. "I believe its my turn now~". Petra – too weak to even move – was utterly helpless as the daemon took her buxom body into his arms and pulled her onto his lap. Her arms weakly wrapped around his shoulders as his powerful hands dug into her thick ass. He lifted her hips up until the tip of his throbbing cock was pressed against her soaking pussy. Looking into Petra's concerned eyes, Baren smiled – and promptly dropped her onto his cock.

"Oh FUCK!" Petra moaned out as her tight, virgin cunt was suddenly stuffed with overwhelming daemon cock. Baren groaned in delight as his cock was squeezed by Petra's tight little cunt before his clawed hands grabbed her by her tanned thighs once more. The Lady of Iron whimpered and shivered as she once more was lifted up, only to be mercilessly dropped back down onto Baren's shaft.

The Primarch threw her head back as his cock once more was forced deep inside her, feeling like a heated bar of iron was shoved up her cunt. Her head-shaking ceased, neck and back still, arched with her tits shoved further against Baren's chest and her fat ass crashing against his lap. There was no room in Petra's head for thought, as her tongue rolled out of her mouth, leaking drool like a drug addict. Her little cock-greedy cunt burning up with pleasure to finally accept this merciless brute into its folds.

Wham!Wham!Wham!

Again and again, Petra was lifted up and dropped down into Baren's lap, his powerfully thrusting hips pumping his cock deeper and deeper into her unprotected cunt. He beat her pussy without mercy, stuffing her hole as deep as he could. Her arousal was such that sweet juices were running down his shaft, getting rammed back into her cunt, churning her pussy up into a stretched out, almost frothy mess as her juices mixed with the steaming hot spring water.

Petra was panting, leaning against Baren, her tits smushed into his solid chest, struggling to focus. She could only moan, trying to talk, to say something, anything. "Ah-oh fuck! You hung daemon bastard!" Your cock punched deeper up into her womb, and Petra nearly squirted herself stupid, feeling her juices trickle down your shaft as her feet kicked out wildly. Wham!Wham!Wham! The sounds of their rough fucking mixed with Petra's shouts, moans, and gasps, a nasty lewd chorus that filled and echoed loudly across the mountain top.

Again, the Primarch shook her head from side to side, looking less like she was trying to say no and more like she was simply having a violent, neck-straining seizure of some kind. Obviously her mouth didn't get the memo as all she could say was "Yes, yes, yes-yes-yes-yes!!" Trying to keep herself quiet quickly failed as Petra let her inner desires loose. More than desire and pleasure, what she felt was pure need overpowering her mind, need for this daemon's fat, repulsive cock, feeling like a junkie getting a necessary but still loathed fix as Baren's balls began to slap against her shaking ass.

Wham!Wham!Wham!

"Oh Terraaa!!" Petra tried to deny her pleasure, but simply couldn't any longer. To do so would have been just as futile as denying her own name, which she put so much pride. Orgasms were ripping through her body like an onslaught of lightning strikes, and Petra was fast losing her grip on reality. She had lost all sense of time, or place and noticed little of what was going on around her. All that mattered was what was happening to her.

Namely, that her fat ass cheeks were finally fulfilling their true purpose and clapping against each other and your body as she was bounced up and down on Baren's cock. Completely at his nonexistent mercy as that fat cock beat her pussy and her very brain totally senseless. Her massive breasts were left bouncing and shaking against the force of his thrusts.

Baren took that opportunity to kiss and suck at her full breasts, savoring every moment that his lips and face made contact with those enormous, sinful, impossibly full and firm breasts. Petra's pussy was leaking like crazy as her tongue kept sticking out of her face like some complete simpleton, the once proud Primarch reduced to nothing more than a daemon's living fuck doll.

At last, Baren himself was pushed over the edge and into orgasm. With a series of deep, almost snarling groans, his pumping cock flooded Petra's spasming cunt with daemonic cum.

His cum filled her womb to the utter brim, and only then did he pull out of the freshly fucked Primarch. Petra collapsed against him, the blissed-out expression on her face partially hidden as she buried her head into the crook of his neck. Baren chuckled and lifted the dazed Primarch off of him with magic.

Gently lowering her to a seated position, he spoke. "I hope you keep my advice in mind, Primarch Petra," he remarked as the Lady of Iron slowly recovered her wits. "And perhaps consider this… Do you really think Isis treat you any different than the Empress?" Before Petra could demand an explanation, Baren waved his hand and the Primarch was once more swallowed by the Warp, to be delivered back to her legion.

Alone now, Baren smiled to himself. The seed of doubt was planted in Petra's mind and left to grow as Isis's little civil war burned on. She wouldn't act on it immediately, it needed time to nurture after all. You see Baren knew that the Warmaster was starting to turn against him. Already, he suspected, she was looking to the other Gods for aid, intending to leave his Dark Prince behind. He would let Isis have the delusion of control a little longer. All that mattered was that when the time came and Petra realized that Isis's Imperium would be no better (and in some ways much worse than the Empress's) would she recognize the importance of cutting her losses. It would be just as his master told him.

Only when neither Isis nor the Empress had anywhere left to run would Slaanesh bring about their shared downfall.

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Note: Check out a book with the name, The Good Girls, for more Warhammer inspired action. This time more war than naughty stuff.