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"Mason, our mission is a failure, wasn't it?" Rakszan asked the Captain.

"I don't like this, Rakszan. I really don't like it. A loss of 30% of our force was not something on our schedule." The normally cheerful Captain was not in a good mood after the action.

"It wasn't a total loss, Captain Mason, Lieutenant Commander Rakszan. At least this operation did reveal part of the true nature of this Hybrid infestation." Commander Harrison grimly stated the situation, "Based on those few data we could gather, a C'Tan known as Sedd'ith'rimd'eep, the Drowning Deep, is responsible for the infestation. While we don't have its exact location, we are certain that it was on Brackus due the world's unnatural thick and hazardous fogs, and heavy signal interference."

After a short discussion, the leadership of Malicious Entities Responsive Intelligence Taskforce decided that an radio broadcast must be made to make the nearby forces know the true nature of the Hybrid and the suspected mastermind. Afterwards, the entire Fleet must withdrew to recovery the loss.

~

"This is Malicious Entities Responsive Intelligence Taskforce to all forces in Charadon System. The C'Tan known as Sedd'ith'rimd'eep, the Drowning Deep is the mastermind behind the creation of the Hybrids. The Drowning Deep is now resided on the world of Brackus, and it had transform the atmosphere of the world into uncomfortable air, possibly with unhealthy substances. be aware of that when you try to invade there. 'statics' ..."

~

Aelius was disappointed for this aftermath, but he could not fault his allies for that. On that mission, were it not for Rakszan pull him out of danger in several occaions, Aelius would never survive on Brackus.

"Prepare a message for my colleagues, Ablus. Don't order an attack on our ships." 'Just when did I care the fate of this MERIT, maybe they were still too useful to me?'

Archarus crushed the skull of another hybrid, his thunder hammer dripping with ichor. The beasts had been rampaging across his lands in his absence, and the Warsmith sought something to take his anger out on. Vorhees still had purpose, and the Chaos Lord was able to repress the urge to end the raptor's life for his failure.

Turrets roared behind him, scything down the endless swarm. Archarus also heard the death rattle of the air cohort as it swooped overhead delivering a payload of bombs and gunfire. The Warsmith saw a flash of red appear over the killing grounds, marking the order for a new wave of Flesh to join the battle. Archarus let loose a roar, taking in the sounds of blade meeting fang, the scent of blood and smoke, the displays of bodies falling on top of one another as the life left them. There was no other place Archarus would rather be.

Deep underneath the battlefield, Oracheis stared intently at his array of screens. Almost mindlessly, spidery mechanderites flicked switches and pulled levers. Parts of the ground itself collapsed, sending an entire chunk of the hybrids into an underground chasm filled with blades and poisons. In other areas of the battlefield, prisms arose from the ground, releasing warp energies around them, killing off hybrids in more ways than the heretech marine could count. Oracheis allowed himself a smile as his contraptions went to work, decimating the hybrids by the hundreds.

Archarus watched the earth tear open in front of him and swallow the hybrids into their depths. He reluctantly appreciated their deadly potency, but felt cheated from his prey. The Warsmith was not able to linger on his ill emotions, however, as more of the hybrids threw themselves forwards. Archarus had lost all control of himself now, such was the strength primal thirst for violence within the Warsmith. No hybrid could stand before him, and the Chaos Lord had torn himself a gap into the living sea, and only brought death and ruin to the aliens before him.

Only when the battle reached its peak did Archarus meet his match. The fog around the ground battle blinded the turrets, and Oracheis lost all sight of the world above him. A great roar drowned out every other sound of the battle, and both hybrid and heretic alike hesitated in their gory work. The roar sounded again, and Archarus knew that he had finally found the head of the hybrid incursion. Archarus snarled his own challenge, and started to hack his way towards the hybrids' brood mother.

Towering above any other hybrid beast, the brood mother lurched forwards on a hideous set of legs. The hybrids had all been worked into a mindless killing state, and even the synapse creatures had lost any signs of self preservation. The brood mother spat out its bioacid, chewing through turret line and Flesh alike. Even while his forces fell back from this new horror, Archarus and his Rending Guard continued to fight onwards, and the Warsmith had given himself in to the blood rage once more. No beast stood before the Warsmith and lived, and none but the brood mother were of value to him.

Vorhees was perched on top of the guard tower, watching the war being waged beneath him. Several other raptors were behind him, waiting for the order to join the fray. Vorhees knew that no matter how many they killed, it would not be enough unless they killed the brood mother, and so he was forced into a deadly waiting game. To strike too soon would mean death from the chitinous horde, but to strike too late would mean that Fahren would be lost to the hybrids and their insidious fog.

The battle continued to collect its bloody tally, and it wasn't long for Vorhees to join the fight. His squad launched into the sky, howling as they soared. They landed in unison on the brood mother's back, and began to place their deadly payload of melta bombs. Their assault did not go unchallenged, however, as gargoyles detached themselves from the hybrid queen's belly and flew at them. Vorhees triggered a hand flamer, incinerating the winged creatures with warp fire as they soared overhead. Others of his squad weren't so lucky, and Vorhees watched as one raptor was sent stumbling backwards, completely hidden underneath the mob of gargoyles as they attacked him, and he disappeared from sight as he plummeted towards the ground below. Vorhees did not have to wait long to see his brother's status switch to black, marking his passage into the warp, and his end in the materium.

The gargoyles pressed with their assault, even more wreckless now that one astartes had fallen. The winged beasts were not so lucky, however, as Vorhees sent another spray of warp fire at them, before jump packing off of the brood mother's armored back. His squad was not far behind, and Vorhees felt the wave of heat radiate from their melta bombs as they detonated.

Archarus watched the brood mother roar in pain as its entire back was covered in flames. He roared in protest that someone else dared to attack his prey, while the sensible portion of his mind knew that he alone could not kill the beast. Seeing his quarry being attacked only goaded him further, and his murderous rampage became ever more frantic. His Rending Guard soon could hardly keep up with Archarus, and did all they could to protect their Warsmith.

Meanwhile, Oracheis sprung yet another trap, and the ground beneath the brood mother's legs split, and once it began to sink the earth sealed shut once more, trapping the monster where it stood as its limbs were crushed beneath tons of stone and rockrete. At this sight Archarus lost all control over himself, ever more desperate to end the beast himself.

"I'll kill anyone who touches that creature. She's mine." The Warsmith growled, already taking aim with his storm bolter. By now the brood mother was hardly in a position to fight, as its lifeblood splattered out from its pulverized joints and scorched back. Archarus' bolt rounds sank into its mouth as it roared in pain and defiance, and blew several large holes into the roof of its mouth.

The brood mother spat bioacid at Archarus, but it fell short and vaporised its own offspring instead. The Warsmith bellowed out its challenge once more, and crossed the sizzling ice towards the creature. "By Khorne! By Perturabo! By Olympia! I. Shall. End. You."

Archarus took aim once more, and fired into one of the brood mother's eyes, causing it to flinch back as it was blinded. It's remaining eye glared at Archarus, but he ignored it and prepared to set to work with his thunder hammer. Up close, he could see the creature was not healthy, even beyond its large array of scars and grievous wounds. The creature was tainted, and weakened. To the Warsmith, it didn't matter. All he cared for was to end the beast's life.

Keb'hal watched Archarus' bloody handiwork work from a distance, and as his hammer hit the brood lord one final time, the daemon smiled as the Warsmith's roar of victory turned into one of pain as his spine snapped and Archarus collapsed to the ground in front of brood mother's still bleeding corpse. The daemon appeared before Archarus in a flash of red, and looked down at Archarus with a grin, and stooped down to grab him.

"It is judgement day for you, Archarus. Now, it is time to see if you are ready for what comes next." As Keb'hal spoke he disappeared in another flash of red, taking with him Archarus and the Rending Guard.

Without their brood mother, the hybrids lost any signs of cohesion, and attempted to win the battle by ths sheer amounts of bodies. They surges forwards in one last charge, aiming to topple the walls in theor ferocity. However, Archarus had designed the defenses too well, and the mindless tyranids were no match for the cold, calculating mindset of an Iron Warrior prepared for war, not when he had nigh on infinite resources to carry out his plans. The hybrids had attempted to conquer XV Fahren 09 for themselves, but had caused their own annihilation instead.

"You always knew you were different. Allow me to enlighten you, friend."
His eyes twitched under his eyelids.
"You could be so much more. Everything you have done has been for us."
His face was shining, his hair damp with sweat.
"How long, friend? How long until you shatter from this effort? All that will be left are remnants. Remnants I will take. Far better to join us whilst you're still whole."
Veins stood out on his arms and neck, throbbing and purple in the darkness.

"We will be waiting for you, Acting-Captain."

Aurelius was in the hallway. His damp footsteps had left marks on the cold marble floor, too large for any normal man. His bedrobes were sodden, and clung to his hulking frame. Blinking sweat from his eyes, he looked down to his hand, he saw his white knuckles gripping his paragon blade. In his other, his storm shield was dragging against the floor.

"CURSE YOU!" bellowed Aurelius, throwing his armaments skittering across the tiles. He hadn't slept well in days. Of course, sleep wasn't a huge issue for an Astartes. But this... This wasn't normal. This wasn't right. This just shouldn't be. Yet Aurelius wanted no part of it. And here he was, drenched in his own fluids, staggering across his own atrium floor.

He stumbled over to his cot, and reached for the jug of wine at his side. Aurelius consumed the claret liquid in seconds, feeling it course down his parched throat. There was too much going on. He'd never expected Pavus to actually attack him, or assault his flagship so directly. Truly, Aurelius now wondered if he was safe.
Outside his atrium, in the brig, Captain Braddock lay captive. He'd not said anything. At all. After numerous sweeps of the ship, no other infiltrators could be found. Aurelius was sure of it.
But it wasn't that. The following battle, the final assault on the Hybrid motherworld, would be ideal for someone to be killed off in the cloying fog. Aurelius didn't know intrigue very well: he hadn't experienced any of the political training the first generation of Acting-Captains had.

Sometimes, he really wondered if this was a reward. So far, his "promotion" had only brought him death, dishonour and this fething recurring nightmare. Astartes didn't have nightmares, for feth's sake!

It was the damn Sorcerer's fault, for imprinting on him.
It was Dramorian's fault for dying and putting him here.
It was Sicarius and Calgar's fault, for putting him in this situation, without a care.
It was the Emperor's fault, for not protecting Aurelius's lost men. It was HIS fault for not protecting them.

"What's going on?!" Aurelius screamed, and launched the jug against the wall, reducing it to fine shards of antique Illyrian clay and mountain stone.

"Make it stop!"
He sunk to his knees, and slumped over. His dark hair dripped beads of sweat into the floor ahead of him. In the dark light, the drops were red as blood.

"Make it end. Make it end. Make it end. Make it end. Make it-"

-------- Surface of Julla, Gallus command post --------

Gallus woke and lazily put on his armor, commanding an operation like that was pretty boring and he could allow himself some luxury, for once. He read the reports from recent missions, with those from 2nd and 7th section being the most promising of the lot, what with one of them positively identifying the strongest generator of the Tau shield and the other having a visual on the Tau commander transport. He Gallus met with his bodyguards and his command staff. He turned to one of the Scions and asked for him to call in the Tempestor Secundus in charge of 6th platoon. She arrived a few minutes later '' Probably was still sleeping '' though Gallus.

'' Mornin' sir ''

'' Good morning Tempestor, got some good new for you, pack melta bombs and d-charge, you're going on a demolition mission ''

'' Right sir, where? ''

'' Echo base, 2nd section confirmed this was the strongest generator the Tau have deployed, we'll strike that and possibly open up orbital strikes possibilities on other targets, rather than wasting boots on the ground, I'll have plenty of intel and picts for you and your squad commanders to review, you get to decide what weapons you want to use for this, the Valkyrie will stay on standby ''

The Tempestor Secundus nodded '' Right sir, I'll transmit that to my platoon, get the men equipped properly and we'll link up with that 2nd section on the ground ''

'' Excellent, you leave in two hours ''

'' One last thing sir, are we expected to stay around and establish some sort of camp? ''

'' No, you're there to destroy and get off, we're not holding ground, merely weakening the hold of the Tau on this planet ''

'' Understood sir ''

The woman exited the room and Gallus turned to his bodyguards. These four were amongst the best men in the Battalion, and they were stuck there twiddling their thumbs.

'' You four are about to have some major role in this campaign and in the assassination of Voidspider '' Gallus took out a small piece of equipement from one of his pouch and showed it to his men

'' Locator beacon, this one in particular is going straight in the Manta that commander is using to fly left and right. You will put it somewhere where the Tau won't find and let be very clear about that, you will NOT be seen or leave any evidence Scions were ever near the Manta, its vital that the enemy was never aware of how close we were to their commander ''

'' Right sir, how will we get in the Manta, sir? ''

'' 7th section of 1st platoon informed us that the ship is landed on a base, you four will be flown high above that base and be dropped right on top of the ship, there are picts the section sent us, you'll have time to review said picts on the way there. Once you're in there, stick the locator somewhere and get out of the ship, your Valkyrie is waiting ''

The four men nodded and the one closest to Gallus grabbed the locator on the way out and ran to their transport.


-------- Surface of Julla, a small cavern under a Tau base --------

Flavion was pleased, everything was going as quick as you could hope, completely undetected and without a hitch, the bombs would be ready a while before the Tallarns would get there.

Things weren't going so well for Ismad. The Scion used to be part of a Tallarn regiment and really struggled with using High Gothic on a daily basis, let alone during operations. In that case, it didn't seem to matter too much, he just wasn't sure if the bomb he'd set was set to detonate in a minute like everyone else's or if it was set to explode a minute and eight seconds after it was triggered. Ismad shrugged, eight seconds wasn't much in the grand scheme of things. Ismad was still angry at himself for his failure to understand the language, he shrugged and decided to ask for some extra help once the mission is over.


-------- Airspace of Julla --------

The vox crackled into life and the pilot listened in.

'' Bad news boys '' he said, talking to his cargo '' Target just lifted off its base, we won't be able to make the drop while its moving around.

One of the Scion snapped back at the pilot '' Set us at fifty meters above and in front of the target, we'll drop on it from there ''

'' You what now? ''

'' You heard me, and keep the Valk in movement as much as possible, otherwise they'll figure something's up ''

'' Fine then, we're moving, I'll open the cargo gate at about 10 meters away from the drop, its your funerals, after all ''

The Valkyrie took a sharp drop down towards the Manta, the pilot opened the door at about sixty meters above the Manta, this was the only signal the men in the back needed and they lined up towards the opening, locking their mag boots to the floor. When the light turned green, the men threw themselves off their transports and turned on their grav chutes mid air, and landed behind the bridge bay, completely unseen. Locking their boots as soon as they hit the ship hull, the men regrouped and decided on the way to proceed.

'' I got a plan, but its uh... twisting the orders we were given '' said one of the Stormtrooper

'' Go nuts, at this, entering a flying and sealed ship without leaving traces is probably the hardest part of this mission '' answered another

'' Yeah, well we'll leave traces, just not ours ''

'' Well then that goes agaisn't orders, doesn't it? '' added another

'' No, he said ''Scions'' my plan involves destroying whatever locks they have on their cargo bay door and get in, there wont be any explosives or evidences this was caused by us. Think about it, noone knows we're here, at worst their radars detected a single Valkyrie that flew around and that's it, if a door breaks out like, they'll blame it on poor maintenance ''

'' Eh, its a chance we should take, but then what? '' asked the last man to speak

'' Either they land on the nearest area that can fit the ship and we sneak out using the landing gear, or they wait until they reach their destination and we get a proper challenge '' answered the Scion who came up with the plan

'' Its a decent plan, we'll move to the door and see what we can do there ''

Everyone else nodded and they made their way, and seached for a way to destroy the lock. They quickly found the ideal spot to plant their explosives and a Scion started to put a melta bomb on it.

'' Whoa whoa wait, that'll do way too much damage, two krak grenades with the blast aimed at this lock should do it while leaving most of the damage on the door itself, and we both know they'll never find the door ''

The other Stormtrooper nodded and grabbed his bomb back, attaching the two grenades and blowing the gate open. The wind quickly ripped the remain of the door wide open. One of the men unscrewed his monoscope and scanned the cargo bay with it, finding no sign of xenos.

'' Way's clear, won't be so for long, let's go ''

A few seconds after, the Scions were safely inside the ship and looked for a suitable area to hide the locator.

'' We'll have to put it somewhere there won't be as much traffic as this bay ''

The small squad could hear the chatter and clanking of Tau walking and moving around above them, clearly, something was up. They exited the hangar swiftly and found themselves with a flight of stairs going down. At the same time, they felt that the ship they were in was losing altitude, they looked at each other and nodded in unision, the best scenario was happening.

'' Under the stairs? '' asked a Scion

'' No, too many Tau coming and going, its right by the bay ''

'' We'll never find a proper spot like that there's gonna be activity all over the ship, noone builds room for no reasons ''

'' What about the drone bay, there's gotta be one and the damn things are always remotely activated ''

'' Good enough, lets find it, we'll split in two group, one's to find the access to the landing gear, the other is going to the drone bay ''

The squad went down the stairs, with one team going on the left and the other going lower in the ship. The members of the first team heard Tau voices coming up ahead, and quickly hid themselves in a storage room they were walking by, one of them left his monoscope on the floor to record the amound of Firewarriors that were coming by, he counted a good fifty pair of feet. The man waved his colleague forward once the xenos were past them and they started looking around for drones, this was rather hard, as they had no records of the inside of Manta, and absolutely no understanding of the Tau language. One Scion opened a door and peaked inside, and quickly jumped back, using his armor cameleoline to hide himself from the Tau that was investigating why her door suddendly opened. Finding nothing, the xeno shut her door and went back into her room. The Stormtrooper vox his teamate and told him about the encounter.

'' Voidspider? ''

'' Can't be, was a female ''

'' Too bad, could've sped up things considerably ''

The two men finally opened the right door, it was filled with inactive drones, at the same time, they received a short message from the other team '' Landing gear found, we're almost on the ground, on standby, just keep going down from the room we were in '' things were really going in their favor, for once. They scanned the room, looking for an area that everyone would ignore, and decided to plant it on a nook on a beam, noone would think too look for the locator there, and whatever would go in this room would have very little chances of just stumbling upon it, it was pretty much the best hiding spot oen could find in such circumstances. The Scion waved to his teamate and the two men quickly reached the rest of the team without a hitch. The ship had already landed at this point and the team used the opening of the landing gear to exit the ship. They were all eager to get out of sight in the forest, but with all the gun drones attached on the Manta, they'd get spotted as soon as they'd moved from under the ship, and so they had to stay put, relying on cameleoline inserts to keep them out of sight.

They didn't really have to wait for a while, as it was clear to the Tau what had happened, the door had been damaged at some point, and regular maintenance overlooked it, leading to it breaking mid-flight. The small team of Stormtroopers all breathed easy once they saw the last Xeno board up the ship. The ship flew off about two minutes after and the team voxed in their sucess as well as a request for evacuation.


-------- Crusade HQ --------

Castella saluted her superiors and dashed back to her work space.

'' Get me Tempestor Prime Gallus now! '' she shouted, as she entered the room, the vox link was quickly set up and she picked up the headset herself

'' Sir! Bad news ''

Gallus sighed '' Just when things were going so well, go ahead ''

'' Crusade wants everyone on some big attack on the Hybrids, we have four days to wrap things up or we'll be declared traitors ''

'' Eh, not so bad, most of our troopers are on training duty in space, we'll move them to where we're ordered, I'll wrap things as fast as I can here and link up with you two, vox Riley and tell him he's re-assigned to his beloved Fist, you're going too, Castella, your command staff can take it from there ''

Castella smiled at the last command, finally, some action, she picked her gear up and went to the shuttle bay to request a transport back to her Battalion.

Archarus awoke on a stone slab, and immediately felt a sense of exposure and nausea. The former was from his terminator armor, or lack thereof. The Warsmith found himself robed in crimson cloth, and felt completely naked without his power armor. The latter was no doubt from having his own spine shattered, and the lasting effects of having been teleported by Keb'hal and the warp energy involved. Archarus realized with a start that he not only could move freely, but felt no pain or signs of his injuries.

"Finally, he awakens. I beginning to wonder if you weren't as strong as I expected." Keb'hal hissed.

"Daemon. What has happened? I-" Archarus began, and stood up, feeling the cold stones at his feet.

"Your body has healed. As was expected. You did not receive the start of your transition well. Your spine was shattered, but you will find it no longer so. Such is the power that Khorne has beseeched to you. Now, you have an army to lead, and guests who need visiting." Keb'hal growled, already tired of the conversation, "and don't worry about your terminator armor. It's been taken care of."

Staring greedily at the hololith display in front of him, Archarus took in the army in orbit around Fahren. They claimed to be of the New Order, or at least were once apart of it. They had now pledged their allegiance to him, and now Archarus was determined to put them to use. The auxiliary forces were already being used to clean the remains of the battlefield, and the astartes were being spread throughout his own armada. It wouldn't do to have them all together after all, if their forces planned to betray the Warsmith sometime down the road.

"Never trust a traitor" Archarus spat, taking in the irony of his words, yet knowing none that were truer.

=====Nemesa=====
Grulahk and the remains of the invasion force made their way silently through the forested region of Nemesa. Every now and then they would have to stop and hide as a Hybrid Crone would pass over by like a Carrion Bird. Grulahk waited for this one to leave before looking to the squad of Deathmarks, "Scout ahead and look for the remains of a Night Scythe." As the Deathmarks phased out in an amber flash he then looked to the two squads of warriors, "Move forward but be cautious, they could be anywhere. He looked behind him to the rest of his Praetorians and the Immortals and gestured forward and their advance begun anew. After an hour or so the Deathmarks returned, "We've located a trail left by one of the Scythes, it is further north." "Good, we move."
=====Arbalest Throne Room=====
Kageros looked around his flag ship with relief and Nostalgia, he and Rak'than had been gone for a couple weeks negotiating with Archarus, debating on what tactics to use on the Imperium, and who will get to do what. He walked through the corridors towards his Throne Room when his communicator beeped, "Ah, Chagh, what do you need?" "I need you to come to the Throne Room, it's about Grulahk." "Already on my way there." Kageros' pace quickened, he was slightly worried something had happened to his protege. He entered the Throne Room and looked Chagh, who stopped reading his book, in the eye,"CHAGH, get off my chai-Throne, I said Throne." "Of course you did." He lazily got up and went over to the screen at the front of the room while Kageros got up and sat in his Throne, "So what is it that happened to Grulahk?" "Remember that flotilla of Scythes we sent?" "Yeah." "Well Murakhar set off the reactors and all the Scythes crashed after they dropped off Grulahk, his praetorians some warriors, Immortals, and Deathmarks." "Oh, that's unfortunate, I'll have to ask Mura' how spectacular the explosion was. So how is Grulahk faring?" "Well, he has found an impact trail leading to the remains of a Night Scythe. My guess is that he'll try and get it's portal working and get back." "This gives me an idea," He picked up his communicator, "Rak', bring me a Nightmare Shroud." "Okay."
=====Nemesa=====
They followed the trail for what felt like an hour, but they had finally found it. As they drew closer they saw something move, then another thing, and then about 50 things. Grulahk started barking orders, "Warriors advance! Deathmarks, take them from the sides. Immortals, stay behind the Praetorians and give covering fire. Attack!" It took them all about 5 minutes to get there but after that it was alot of battling. When all was done only 50% of Grulahks force remained. They strolled up to the Night Scythe and started looking it over for the in-built comms device. "Over here." An Immortal ointed to a piece of wreckage that had gone astray. Grulahk walked over and looked at the device, he started to tinker with it. After a couple minutes of toiling with the device the glyph on its surface lit up. He pressed a few more buttons, "This is Grulahk to Kageros, is anyone recieving this signal?" He repeated a couple more times before a voice echoed back, "Grulahk, it's Kageros, we read your signal, we can't send reinforcements so you'll have to find your way back. Fret not, we have a plan. You need to get the Invasion Beamer up and running, after that you'll have to home its frequencies on our position. When all that's done you'll be able to beam back. Let us know when your done." "Done." "What? Already?" "It was mainly intact, I made a few tweaks while you where talking." "Good, now return to us. We have much to discuss." Grulahk walked over to the beamer and activated it, and in an amber flash he was gone.
=====Arbalest Combat Information Center=====
Grulahk, Kageros, and Rak'than all stood looking at a hologram of a space battle. In the hours that Grulahk returned, Kag' and Rak' ran him through what they and Archarus had discussed. They then moved on to Grulahk's escapade on Nemesa. Kageros looked at Rak'than who nodded at him, they then turned to Grulahk. "Grulahk, report to the Crypteks for your Necrodermis modification, we have deemed you worthy of the rank of Lord. When your upgrade is complete, we have a Nightmare Shroud for you."

The morning had been fruitful. Of five locations, Selka's guesses had yielded two small groups of Trisburg guard on leave. They had returned to base with little fuss, and then been escorted to the Sovereign aboard shuttles, to be screened and tested for Xenos infection. A further group returned safely, but with nothing to show for their search.
As the afternoon drew on, Selka had come down himself to relieve Dekkal, and wait for the remaining two groups.

"Sir, there's a problem."
Commissar Selka looked up to see one of the Sovereign's own guard by the doorway of the space port's office, "Out with it, then."
"Two of the groups are now late in returning, and have not reported back this hour. The one sent to the campsite, and the one out by the dry aqueducts. The latter could be poor signal caused by the thick walls, but we have no response from either." Sergeant Halpen swallowed nervously. He had never delivered bad news to the commissar before, but the man's reputation gave him pause for concern.

Garth sighed, and stood up, "I'll get two teams out. Dekkal will remain here."
Halpen looked troubled, "Sir, most of the troops have already returned to the Sovereign, we only have enough for one team of five unless we include the governor's loaned guard."
"The campsite is a mile out? I'll take the loaners, you take our lads out to the aqueducts. Report back only to Captain Dekkal here, not me." Garth began fitting his earpiece and buttoning up his coat for the trip. He was hardly surprised that two teams had gone missing from the seven deployed, more that it had taken this long to happen. He looked up to see Halpen still present, watching him nervously, and sighed, "Go on, bugger off. Go!"
Halpen saluted and vanished through the doorway.

Within an hour, Captain Dekkal received signal from Halpen. His group had found the first squad in the aqueducts. They had become lost in the tunnels, and rather than wander for hours, stayed put and waited, calling out occasionally. Halpen had been correct, the thick brickwork had killed their signal. They had failed to find the guards they had sought out, but we're at least safe.

Ten minutes later, the campsite squad also voxed in, apologising for their lateness. They had lost one of their beacons and then in the search, forgotten to report in.
"You've met up with Commissar Selka?" Dekkal felt relief.
"No sir, we have not seen him. Do we return to the port?" the vox channel was poor.
"Affirmative. Keep your eyes open on the way back for his squad."

Dekkal lit a smoke and inhaled before lifting the vox piece again and signalling Garth. He was met with whining static. Oh hell. Either the vox signal in the valley is poor, or the old git forgot his headset again. He sighed. Of all his worries, Garth could at least handle himself.

Another hour passed, and both missing teams had long since returned. Dusk was settling across Trisburg.
With a slow sinking feeling, Dekkal had tried in short intervals to contact Selka, to no avail.
Finally, he contacted the Sovereign above, and found Edward answered.
"Seneschal Edwards speaking. What's occurring, Captain?"
Eamon's sinking feeling grew further, "Sir, all scouting parties have now returned, but Commissar Selka and his team have neither returned nor reported back. It is growing dark and we do not know where they are."
There was a long pause, and then Edward responded calmly, "Set a guard at the port. Allow everyone else to rest and return as planned."
"Sir? What about Garth?" Dekkal was surprised to say the least.
"He's survived worse than getting lost in the woods overnight, Eamon. Plus, he's with five natives, we can search for them in the daylight tomorrow. Goodnight Captain, get some rest." Edward ended the transmission.

I suppose he's right. Dekkal drew on his smoke again, and stared out into the evening.
Then he stood suddenly, realising what he was seeing. The five Trisburg guard had returned, alone.
Oh hell.

"Where is Commissar Selka?" Eamon skidded to a halt by the returning group.
The leading guard sniffed, "When it began to turn dark, he sent us back. Said we were slowing him down and he could cope without us "hopeless townies" cluttering up the place."
"Sounds like him. Why did you not report in on time?" Dekkal calmed himself with the reassurance that Garth was merely being cantankerous rather than in real danger.
"No signal in the valley," the guard yawned, "may we rest now, Captain?"
He nodded, "Aye. Go get yourself sorted out."

*

Commissar Selka frowned, his eyes scanning the clearing, "Figures," he stepped to the small shrub where his sensor told him the beacon was located, and after brief searching, retrieved it by the torn strapping, "put an essential homing beacon on a thin cloth strip. If it were up to me, they'd be inserted into-"
He span, bolt pistol cocked and raised into the face of the man at his back, "Evening."

"Easy, Commissar. We were just sent to find you," the Trisburg Imperial Guard kept his hands raised above his shoulders, and carried no weapon "you are after all, acting against your own orders being out here alone."
Garth kept his gun raised, "How would you know the orders I have to my men aboard our-"
Behind him, four more guard entered the clearing.
"What is this?" he turned his head.
The first guard seized the distracted commissar's wrist, and pulled him into a painful armlock, "Call it a delayed welcoming party." he smiled, struggling to hold onto Garth as he bucked and tried to throw the traitor off.
The remaining four men closed on him, and barely audible above the cursing, Garth's pistol thudded into the dry earth.

[Outside Waaaagh! Narlug's camp]

"Dat is a lotta orks" Blitza announced.
"I gotta agree. It is a lot more than what we started with." Narlug replied

Blitza had quickly grown to be a close associate of Narlug. He was now a personal part of his retinue because of his achievements in the battle of Vactia. Blitza and Narlug had been conversing about the major movement of greenskins around their stronghold. After Vactia had been taken, the tribal orks had flocked to Narlug. They now knew that he was the strongest of them and they should join him for a betta fight. Those who didn't agree were swiftly eradicated. All in all, the war for Novus Regulus had gone well. He had lost many boyz, but had gained even more. He had also gained a strong ally for the coming battles. Nox would bring him many victories and make him very powerful. He would stick with him, at least for the time being.

[Inside the camp]

"It's workin'!" Galagod shouted.
"Of course its workin'! I did dis work myself!" Nox replied to this.

As this was happening, the gargant wobbled on it's first step. The pilots were learning how to use it, but they did squash a few orks under their feet while they figured it out. It was their faults for standing there anyways. The gargant had been fully repaired from the damage wreaked upon it by Galagod's "Kustom Force Field." It was very easy to do so with all the new loot coming in from Vactia. Along with the loot though, came the one greenskin that made the difference. Nox. He had come over, taken a long look, and got to work. He fixed all the mistakes Galagod had made in his quest for his precious gargant. All the makeshift parts were replaced, the problems were solved, and the movement system was added. Nox had done what Galagod had thought was impossible. Truly, he had a lot to learn.

[Occurring simultaneously with the previous update]

"I feel like an idiot." Edward adjusted the red and green striped headband.
"Tell me about it." sighed Fairfax, also wearing an identical band to his brother, as were the small squad of medics and troops accompanying them. He removed his to look at it. The governor had insisted that all visitors to the troop recreation area wear the "special" bands at all times. They looked uncannily like pieces of curtain clumsily cut into strips. Nobody he had seen thus far had been wearing them either.
Reynard was beginning to feel very tired with Marcus's antics, but could see the end of the job in sight.

They spent the morning setting up a makeshift office, offering one bottle of wine and a small spiced cake per soldier willing to undergo a brief medical exam and blood test.
They had a surprising amount of volunteers once the office opened, and no complaints.

"I'm not sure this is going to work." Fairfax leaned and hissed to Edward.
"I know, plus I'm certain that one has been around twice, and simply washed off his hand stamp." Edward inclined his head slightly.
Reynard grimaced. As to avoid making life hard for the troops, they had tried this voluntary approach. He had hoped that some unwitting infected would surface in the testing. But thus far nothing. He was in part relieved, but if intelligence had been correct, there was still something left to find. Perhaps the troopers who were off base would yield better results, if indeed they could be found.

As evening began to settle, he signalled for the office to close, "Everyone still waiting, come and collect your refreshments, form a couple of lines please. And thank you for your time and your patience," he smiled to Edward, "have them leave the remaining crates here. Let these men celebrate their time off that I'm sure they do indeed deserve."

As the medical team began packing away, one medic stepped away from the group, and joined his Lord captain, "Sir. I think we've found something. One of the blood samples we took, before we've even got it aboard for testing, it's- well it's visibly changing."
Despite his heart sinking, Fairfax kept his warm smile and nodded to passing troopers, "Go, get the samples up there now. We'll pack away down here."
"Yes Lord Captain."

*

Garth awoke flat on his back, groggy, cold and uncertain. He winced at the pale morning daylight on his eyelids, and quiet chill of a light breeze. Outdoors. He inhaled, coughing as the pain in his ribs voiced objection to this movement. I'm getting old.
Opening his eyes, he looked up blearily into the pale faces of five Sovereign guard.
"Commissar." the nearest guard saluted, his face uneasy.
Selka sat up stiffly, "Sergeant Halpen?"
The young man nodded, "Yes sir. I'm afraid you have been AWOL all night, sir. You did not report in, we only found you when this beacon started signalling again." he pointed with his boot to a familiar piece of strapping.
"That isn't my beacon... I found it, I think. I don't recall." Garth looked uncertain as he tried to recall the night before and drew a complete blank. Stretching and patting himself down briefly, he reached for his pistol, checked, and found it in his holster, fully loaded.
The guards visibly stiffened and raised their own weapons as he examined the gun.
"Relax, Sergeant," the commissar extended his arm and handed the pistol by its barrel to Halpen, "I was just checking to see if I had fired recently, I should have explained aloud."
"Appreciated, sir," the guardsman looked uncomfortable, "I'm afraid we must return you to the Sovereign for inspection. You know the protocols."

Garth nodded, and stood up, feeling numb and cold for the second time in what had been a very long week, "I understand. I am likely compromised." he replied quietly, with none of his usual energy. Garth held out his arms obediently, and with a slight unease to his movement, Halpen clasped a rigid locking restraint over both of the commissar's wrists, and knelt to place a set of leg irons on his ankles.
"Really? I can't run faster than you on a good day, lad." Garth found it in him to make a small joke.
"You can kick harder though, sir."
"Aye." he conceded. It was true. What he lacked in speed, he more than made up for in horsepower. It was one of very few reasons he had survived this long. Not that it was any use to him now.

*

"Genestealers." Fairfax repeated numbly.
"Yes sir," the young medic nodded, "we ran the tests twice and cross checked the results. It's unmistakeable. Plus one of the guard we retrieved had a single vertical pupil and pointed teeth. Polite as he was, he's clearly the offspring of an infection."
Fairfax closed his eyes, why couldn't it have been a wild goose chase. Anything but this. "Put them in the sealed examination rooms. Wait on my signal for what to do." he lowered his head. The rooms as well as beds and seating, had a vent for pumping in sterilising vapours. On his word, they could be flooded with a painless but lethal combination of gases that would relieve the infected guard of their duty, along with their innocent squadmates.
But Fairfax had never killed. The decision sat in his mouth like a bite of stale bread, unpleasant and difficult to deal with. He needed Garth, he needed Dekkal. But both were still on Trisburg, with the commissar himself missing.

*

"Garth!"
As the group stepped out of the shuttle aboard the Sovereign, lasguns still aimed at his chest, Selka raised his head and saw Edward beside the lord captain and his own armed retinue. The familiar face made Garth feel momentarily better, and he half-smiled despite the situation. Edward began to take a pace toward them, but Fairfax put his hand across his brother's path, causing him to halt.

"Commissar, I understand you were missing all night." Fairfax's face was stony.
"I was, Lord Captain." Garth felt both shame and frustration at his inability to explain.
"Can you enlighten me as to why, Garth?" the veneer briefly cracked, and Selka could see the concern in the eyes of his friend, before the steel expression returned.
"I ...cannot. I don't recall anything since dusk." Selka lowered his head again.
"Then you will be subject to the same examinations and tests as the guardsmen of Trisburg. If you are positively cleared of all possible taint, you will return to your duty."

"What if testing is inconclusive? Or-" Edward interjected without meaning to.
Fairfax closed his eyes, "You know what then, Seneschal."
"But Garth is the only one of us with any experience in dealing with these monsters! Without him-"
The lord captain snapped, "You think I'm not aware? There is no alternative," he closed his eyes, "at best we can quarantine him until there's a confirmed result. We cannot extend beyond that, you know as well as I do. Garth himself has said that to risk one tainted individual is to risk the entire population."

Garth nodded, "He's right, Ed." he added quietly, his eyes downcast to the brushed metal decking.
Edward looked back and forth between them with increasing distress, "Garth! How can you be so sanguine?"
Fairfax didn't raise his eyes from Selka, "Because, little brother, he already knows. Face the shuttle, Commissar."
Selka turned, and the lord captain signalled for the nearest guard to place a gloved hand on the back of the commissar's collar, drawing it down. A raised, bruised puncture wound at the base of his neck caused those nearby to sharply inhale.

Edward felt like he'd been punched in the stomach by a vengeful Sororitas.
Garth stared at the plating ahead of him. He'd already found the welt as he woke up on Trisburg. He felt nothing.
"Take him. Run the tests." Edward spoke quietly.
"Sir?" the guards looked uncertain.
"I said do it. If there's something we've missed, then he deserves the chance!"
"You're clutching at straws, Ed." Fairfax sighed.
"Either stop me right now, or do not impede my trying," Edward growled, "because I won't give up on him."
His brother reached over and rested his hand on his shoulder, "Of course we won't. I'm just afraid of what it will do to you when you can't stop this. It's out of your control."
Edward turned his eyes to Fairfax's and snarled, "Today has only just begun."

*

The guards filed back into the governor's office, and waited quietly for him to stop staring intently at the ceiling fresco. When at last he noticed them, the lead officer saluted, "It's done sir. We planted the commissar back in position and they took him to their ship an hour ago. But their smaller vessel left the system much earlier this week. They are without their psykers to analyse the commissar's mind."
Marcus was elated, "Excellent! They'll spend so much time examining their angry fancy hat man, that we will have the freedom to do whatever we want. I can't believe Marcus thought it wouldn't work!" he grinned at his own genius.
Marcus shook his head, "It won't work, Marcus. They'll find out we faked the whole thing! When they do, they'll come after us."
The governor cocked his head, "They won't find out! He'll be dead, and they'll think they did the world a favour. They did, getting rid of such an angry, useless man. And then we'll take his hat. Maybe I'll let you wear it." he threw up his chin, amused at the idea.
"It won't work. They'll test him and find nothing, and then we won't get to keep our tapestry." Marcus sniffed sadly.
Marcus opened his eyes wide. He'd forgotten about that. No Rogue Trader, no new tapestry. He rubbed his eyes, trying to think.
"We'll have to think of a better way to distract them." he reached for the intercom on his desk.

Sorry, I've posted in the wrong place

-------- Surface of Julla, Gallus command post --------

Gallus had gathered his command staff for an emergency meeting. While most of the Battalion could easily be sent to support the Crusade without weakening the strenght of the force on Julla. However, he would need all his experienced leaders with the bulk of his foces, included himself, and he was loathe to leave Julla with Voidspider still alive. He needed a plan to get rid of the pesky Xeno, and quick.

'' What about 6th platoon? You sent e'm to take down the shield, perhaps this could could force Voidspider to show up in a place where we,re ready for him '' offered a Tempestor

'' No... he'd be informed well in advance, we would have to deal with far more than we could handle '' answered Gallus

'' What is the locator beacon telling us right now? ''

'' Not much, the ship hasn't moved from its current location, we're guessing the repairs needed are why its taking Voidpsider longer to move from this base than from the previous one '' Gallus shot a glare at his bodyguards as he said it, the men had taken a very liberal interpretation of his orders, but he couldn't deny the results.

'' What about an orbital strike? Lock the Swift Guardian lances on the locator beacon, blast the ship, send us us to mop up whatever's left ''

'' Shield's in our way ''

'' 6th platoon's there, they blow it up, force the Manta to move, we shoot it down and then leave no survivors ''

Gallus nodded '' Good plan, if we're lucky, the lance strike will leave no wreck for us to investigate, but I wouldn't count on it. Mhmmm, this operation is going to massive numbers to ensure optimal chances of success, leave fifty Scions here to help the guardsmen with whatever they might need, keep the men on observation duty on station for now, but be ready to extract them if we succeed. 6th platoon should be launching an attack on the shield installation right about now, everyone I need you in your Valkyries as soon as possible ''


-------- Surface of Julla, near Echo base --------

Tempestor Secundus Mallia turned to the Tempestor in charge of the mission on Echo base.

'' Front assault's going to be suicide and Valks are too loud, so we'll chute ourselves from the cliff above the generator blast down the roof and hold the building agaisnt the counter attack, once the Tau are going to get in position, we'll call down our Valks on e'm, once the defenders are dead, we blow the installion and link up with the Tempestor Prime, there's more to this than the simple demolition job ''

'' Oh? '' Answered the section commander

'' We're going to finish this once the generator's scrapped, keep your two keenest spotters up on the, have them tell us about the Tau movement, we'll take them on our way back ''

And so the mission went. A hundred men in four rows began jumping down from the cliff and landed softly on the roof. Once the first twenty Stormtrooper had landed, they proceeded with putting shaped charges on two locations, the charges detonated simultaneously and the Scions quickly followed, the first two men died as they entered the generator, shredded in pieces by drone turrets. The men after quickly found cover and informed their fellows about the threats.

'' I need a charge above all the turrets, we'll drop on them and take e'm out '' shouted a Tempestor

His squad executed his order with trained precision and the turreted threat was eliminated, melted by the weapon specialists and the generator room was secured.

'' Clear the building, we'll hold it agaisnt them! ''

The few Taus and drones that were still in the building were mercilessly cut down by eye-achingly bright green lasers. The building was secured. The same couldn't be said about the outside of Echo base, the garrison answer was swift, with ground forces massing up a counter assault that could prove devastating. One squad of Tau breachers managed to reach the building before the Scions could secure the entrance properly, and proceed to gun down the men as they tried to mount up an effective defence.

'' That'll do call it in! '' shouted Mallia

The Valkyries fell down on the Tau, with an unmatched fury, rocket pods destroying whatever cover the Tau could've used and tearing the hapless xenos to pieces, the few Battlesuits that managed to take off were targetted by the gunship lascannons and swiftly destroyed. The breacher squad small foothold held for a short time, their firepower preventing the Scions from enterting the lobby. Even that was cut short when a few men climbed back in their valkyries and stormtred the room from behind, ending the Tau once and for all.

'' Report, Tempestors! '' said Mallia

'' Platoon's got light losses, six men down, all Valks accounted for, too, we're ready to move and support the rest of our troops ''

'' Mount up the- '' Mallia last line was interrupted by the distant rumbling of an orbital strike.

'' Get in, we're late enough as it is! GO GO GO! ''


-------- Surface of Julla, around the Manta crashsite--------

The lance strike hadn't been as accurate as Gallus had wished, he'd blame the two other generators he'd left intact for that. Still the Manta had gone down and it was surrounded by a good hundred and fifty Scions, with another hundred on its way, sitll progress was slow, the wreck provided a great defensive position for the xenos, who used it as a bunker, furthermore, they made great use of the undamaged turrets on the hulls. Gallus ordered five teams of snipers to move back and target the drones with their hellshots, the heavy rounds inflicted great damage on the drones, and the Scions were able to breath easy a bit. The rest was a short one, as ten heavy suits jumped out of the hull and rained death on the Scions. Some of the suits were going for the Valkyries, too, bringing down a few gunships on their runs. They were gone back almost as quickly as they had come out.

'' We can't withstand that sally too often, we'll have to guess where they'll jump at next '' said Gallus

'' The section that was wiped out had reported concentrated fire power on their position, they were pinned by pulse fire and then finished by the suits ''

'' Fine then! Have every section cover one another, if one's getting pinned, make sure to keep an eye out for the suits, I want as many plasma guns ready to fire as possible ''

'' Yes sir! ''

Gallus looked back at the battlefield, his men were using whatever they could as cover, trading shots with the entrenched Firewarrios, here and there he could dead xeno and men alike, their armor shattered and various body parts strewn across. He saw a section advance under the cover of volley rifles and succesfully reach the hull of the Manta, two Firewarriors went for them but they were shot were they stood by other Scions. Elsewhere, he could see another section forced to hide behind a piece of the ship, heavy pulse shot preventing them from firing back.

'' There! Get the plasma guns ready ''

And sure enough Voidspider and his bodyguards jumped out of the Manta and fell upon the pinned human. The Scion were more prepared than the last time, and the Battlesuits were met with bolts of plasmsa, killing a few before they could open fire on the pinned men under them. The Stormtroopers efforts weren't quite enough, and Voidspider managed to inflict terrible losses regardless of how many suits he lost.

'' We can't stay around forever '' shouted Gallus '' We need to breach that wreck and get in there, wipe everyone out ''

No sooner had Gallus finished his sentence, that a section of the Manta exploded outwards, revealing the section that had managed to reach the wreck, they had stormed their way in and managed to destroy the Tau from within, and now they had created a way in for the rest of the troops to swarm over the Tau position. And so they did, slicing through Tau flesh and armor alike, finally reaching what served as a command post for Voidspider. The suits had somewhat limited movements there, and it helped the Scions greatly. Voidspider notices that as well and he ordered some of his bodyguard to destroy the roof of the room they were in, allowing the Tau to use their jetpack to escape.

'' Tempestor Prime, the commander escaped, sir, he should be in the air, easy to track ''

'' I see him, on my way ''

Gallus waved his bodyguards forward and they quickly came face to face to two Battlesuits, one of which was quickly vaporized by the melta and plasma shots of the squad. The last one, which was Voidspider's, pointed its twin burst cannons at Gallus and ran the other along his suit ''throat'' .

'' Is he challenging you, sir? ''

'' I think so '' said Gallus, noticing a squad of Scions had made their way behind the commander '' Aim your melta guns at the guns '' Gallus switched channels '' Hellguns to full power disable the Tau jetpack ''

Gallus crossed his arms and looked up on the Tau as his men crippled the Battlesuit and left it weaponless and withlittle to no mobility. The squad that had destroyed Voidspider jetpack ran down to extract the commander from his suit.

One of Gallus bodyguard took a sharp breath making his commander turn towards him.

'' Something to tell me, Stormtrooper? ''

'' Well first its a female, sir, but more importantly, I stumbled upon that xeno when we infiltrated the Manta, could've killed her right there right then ''

'' Mhmm, bad intel I suppose, doesn't matter now, even if its just a decoy, I doubt there's any Tau left alive here, so even if it this is ain't Voidspider, he's dead somewhere ''

The Scions forced Voidspider on her knees and one of them was about to execute her when Gallus stopped him '' She did challenge me, can't ignore it '' With these words, Gallus lifted his plasma pistol and shot Voidspider in the face, leaving her a smoldering and headless corpse. Gallus spat on the corpse '' There's your duel, Xeno ''


-------- Surface of Julla, Gallus command post --------

Gallus read the reports of the assault on the Manta, he had lost almost half his force there, along with some Valkyries. Not exceptionnal, but within acceptable losses, considering the losses the Tau had to deal with. Gallus had ordered every infiltrated squads back at the base, most of the Scions were being pulled back, Gallus left Ashraf in command of the fifty Scions Gallus left to support the guardsmen.

+++ Open Channel Broadcast: Imperial Vox Network +++

To any and all within transmission range; Imperial, unaligned or fellow Rogue Trader.
Requesting emergency loan of one psyker, astropath or graduate of Adeptus Telepathica. Emergency psychic assessment required. One of our own hangs in the balance, wounded in the course of duty.

We can offer private and immediate transportation to and from your location. All expenses will be compensated and I would be personally beholden to anyone who can assist.
You understand that the debt of a Rogue Trader is not offered lightly.

Discretion is appreciated on this matter, and would be dutifully reciprocated.

Lord Captain Reynard Fairfax, the Reforged Sovereign, in orbit of Trisburg

"Sanctioned Psyker Mordos. You are to be dispatched to the planet of Trisburg, where the rogue trader under the House of Fairfax requires your aid. You are to follow his command by the letter, and allow none but the Emperor to distract you from his tasks. Do you understand?" Colonel Detta said, looking the psyker in the eyes.

Mordos simply nodded, before going back to mumbling about beans and cups. Most would have thought the psyker to just be a lunatic, and perhaps he was, but Detta knew he was reliable when called upon, and knew he would be able to handle whatever the rogue trader sent his way. That is, if he could find his sanity at the time.

"Don't get hurt out there, ok? I want to see you in one piece when you come back. And that's an order." Detta said, and smiled at the psyker. Mordos simply cackled, and coughed up a gob of spit onto the ground, not caring that some still dribbled down his chin.

While the psykers' escort arrived to take him go Trisburg, Detta heard him mumble "One, two. Send me through. Three, four. Kick a door. Five, six. Find the tricks. Seven, eight. Break his gate. Nine, ten. Burn the den." Shortly afterwards, the psyker started cackling again, and Detta wasn't sure if he had made the right choice for Fairfax. Only time would tell if Mordos could function well enough for Fairfax's purposes.

Lilliana slowly opened her eyes in her meditation chamber onboard the "Flame of Isha." A few days ago whilst scanning the skeins of fate she had seen something peculiar. Soon there would come a cross in fate's path, a final confrontation where the fate of the system hung in the balance. One wrong move would lead to the system's destruction. Or it's salvation. While Lilliana cared very little for the human populations of these worlds, she didn't wish to make a mockery of the deaths that Iybraesil had suffered to get to this point. She knew instinctively that she needed to ensure this system's survival, if only to justify all the suffering that her kin had been subjected to. And as she continued to examine the skein she realized that her path conflicted with that of Archarus, and a thrill went through her at the realization that she could end the one who had brought so much pain to the Eldar. No doubt he left his stronghold to revel in the fact that so many of the New Order had he would not live to revel in his success for long. He would die, she would make sure of that. As she left her meditation chamber she nodded to Korvel who had stayed by her side faithfully ever since his return to the Craftworld. If the treachery of his former comrades disturbed him he hid it well, and for that Lilliana loved him. Even at his weakest moments he stood strong. For her. For the Eldar. Bolstered by his presence Lilliana went to mobilize her kin. The time for war was nigh, and the Iron Warriors would soon learn to fear the Banshee's wail.

As he was led through the corridors toward the holding area, Garth walked without seeing. He was faintly aware of the noises around him, faces flashing past, but none of it registered. The restraints were still in place to prevent him from attacking anyone; they kept the pace to a dull crawl.
All he could think about was how he had failed; he would never see his family again. He would never serve the Emperor again. He would leave Edward in pain. All through his own poor judgement. The moment he had become separated from the squad, he should have returned. But his stubbornness had kept him going.

Behind him, Dekkal walked silently, hating himself nearly as much. The sad irony of Selka falling victim to his own strict security standards was not lost on him, as he stepped along.

"Garth." The group drew to a halt at the door of the examination room, and Seneschal Fairfax was already there.
"Ed, please. You can't be here." Selka avoided looking at him.
Edward stepped forward, "Last I checked, I issue the orders, Commissar," he looked to Dekkal, "get these things off him, Eamon. We're inside a two level lockdown."
"Sir?" Dekkal looked uncertain.
With a patient expression, the seneschal pointed to Garth's restraints, "Captain, the secondary genestealer infection is not spread by cursing, you'll be safe," he smiled tiredly, "and Garth is very unlikely to employ the actual infection method fully clothed in a corridor."
Recognition dawned, and the captain hastily unlocked Selka's restraints, stepping away again, "You understand we cannot leave you two alone though, Ed. In case he harms you."

"Of course." Edward returned to Selka, and placed both hands on his shoulders. "I said I wouldn't give up, and I mean it. We have a psyker on the way from the Histans to help uncover what happened, and I'm trawling my connections to find any known information on early reversal, if you are-"
Garth silently leaned forward and hugged Edward, resting the side of his head against the tall seneschal's chest, "Just be quiet for once." he wondered if you could hear grief, as his listened to his friend's heartbeat through his collarbone.
Edward reciprocated slowly, stunned by the public show of familiarity, "..There's time for talk later." he mumbled.
"Not like I'll be going anywhere." Selka murmured.

Eamon stood watching, without focusing his gaze anywhere in particular. A learned skill for the discrete guard. He felt deeply conflicted. Seeing the pair happy was one thing; seeing Garth happy was a day for the calendar. But not like this, his chest was heavy.

As the pair drew apart, he led Selka into the examination room wordlessly, and sealed him in. They exchanged salutes as he did so.
"I'll visit." he nodded.
"Playing cards might prove difficult." Garth tapped the glass between them. He looked past Eamon, "Get him out of here, it's like looking at a lost puppy." he whispered, gruffness returning.

Dekkal turned to find Edward looking lost, and extremely fatigued. He realised despite the blasé attitude over the vox, the man hadn't slept. He'd seen it before. Both Fairfaxes were incapable of being cold toward those in their care, personal feelings aside. Like shepherds, they fretted over the troops and the civilians alike.
"Come on, Ed. Sleep. I'll have somebody wake you when there's news." he placed his hand on the seneschal's shoulder.
"I need to see my brother, help him decide on the prisoners." Edward said dully.
"No, you don't. I'll go. You to bed." Dekkal began steering him firmly.
"I can walk!" he snapped.
"Then do so, you big pit-prop." sighed the captain.

As they rounded the corner, Selka sat down on the bench and looked around. Someone had at least, brought him dinner and decked out the hospital bed with reasonable bedding. He let a small laugh out as he realised there was also a change of uniform and a stack of files.
"Optimism, thy name is Fairfax." he murmured.

*

Pushing the Lord Captain's door open, Eamon leaned through, "Sir?"
"Come in, Eamon." Fairfax was at his desk, leaning heavily on it. Beside him was a crystal decanter of pale golden liquor, which quite evidently used to be as full as its nearby friends.
"I came to speak to you about your decision." the captain stepped inside.
"There is no decision, it is done." Fairfax met him with dead eyes.
"All of them?" Dekkal was visibly alarmed.
"Yes. I made the call. Their lives are on me. The only ones left are Garth and the governor's personal guard," he exhaled heavily, and then gestured to the decanter and a clean glass, "stay a while, Eamon?"
The captain shook his head, "I sent Edward to his bunk, and Garth is in solitary. I can't rest here. I'll see you later sir." he backed out of the room and closed the door, deeply uneasy.
Reynard watched his retreat, and sank another glass of the fierce liquid. It wasn't touching the sensation of horror at himself. He doubted it could.
"What are we doing, playing at war?" he asked the empty room.
"The God Emperor's work." came the reply from just over his shoulder.

The fleets of man gathered near the ruins of Gallor Prime. This mobilization had been the largest of its kind since the events that lead to the destruction of Gallor prime, and this gathering dwarfed that assembly by almost two fold. The threat of being branded a heretic was a penance no commander was willing to pay. Lord General Kruger Zonand gazed out his window, all that were coming were already her. Zonand took a deep breath and spoke to his nearby adjunct “Send a fleet wide message, all forces are to send a representative to my ship for briefing.” The Adjunct bowed and hurried to deliver the message, Zonand took a deep breath. Relations between the commanders had only worsened since the last summit, this meeting could prove to be just as hazardous as the Deep itself.

Aboard the Lord General’s flagship dozens of both men and astares gathered to speak their final peace before they plunge into the depths of hell. Kruger looked at the men gathered on his right was Marshall Karak, Tempestor Riley, Colonel Detta, Chapter Master Harbo and Captain Mercutio. On the left was Acting-Captain Aurelius to his left his fellow Ultramarine Captain Julius, next to him was Commissar Sheppard, Inquisitor Hennard, and Colonel Amir. The Mechanicus sent only a servo skull to monitor the meeting, Kruger would have been offended but their last representative had only complicated matters, this was far simpler. They all awaited one final attendant.

Pavus entered the meeting hall with his entourage in tow. However, it was not just the Faustian honor guard that accompanied the Governor a retinue astartes accompanied them. Six Ultramarines five in the plate of veterans from the Tyranic war their leader a marine in the plate of a librarian. Both Julius Aurelius arose to greet their brother. Julius grinned “I was not aware we had reinforcements from Macragge.” Codicier Saren spoke coldly “Nor should you have. I have critical business here that requires subtly.” Aurelius felt weary of the Librarian, though he was his brother and bound by his honor to trust and protect the man something about him made him nervous, but any who willingly consult with Pavus made him nervous. Aurelius spoke “And what business is that brother?” The psyker spoke dismissively “I am not at liberty to say.” Pavus spoke in his sarcastic belittling voice “Lords, I present to you Codicier Saren of the Ultramarines. Now that I am here we may begin this council.” Pavus took the seat directly across the table from Kruger.

Aurelius watched the Lord Governor take his seat, he wanted to just stand up and spill the traitor’s blood, but the Faustians were a sizable force whose full cooperation will without doubt be needed if the hybrid’s are to be stopped. Aurelius decided it best to say nothing, though his blood boiled with hatred.

General Zonand tapped several buttons at the console that was installed in front of his seat and a holographic image of a world formed over the council’s heads. Kruger spoke “This is Brackus, we were completely unaware of this world’s existence until Captain Aurelius provided us with its coordinates. Thanks to Lord Pavus’s operation on Nemessa we were able to confirm that the Deep’s Hive Mind is somewhere on this world. I deployed several thousand scouting units to Brackus, and unfortunately they all came up empty.” The Holo-Globe flashed red as the probes made planet fall. Colonel Amir spoke “I don’t think you’d pull us all here unless you could confirm the beast’s presents Lord General.” Krieger spoke “That is correct Colonel, we sent a second wave of servo skulls these ones equipped with instruments that can monitor the beast’s shadow in the warp, what we found was this.” Kruger pressed another button and glowing veins ran through the holographic world of Brackus “What these drones discovered was this, whatever psychic frequency this creature is radiating it is coming from here at the center of the world.” Sheppard spoke with skepticism “The Planet’s core, my lord there must be a mistake.” Codicer Saren spoke “There is no mistake Commissar, I personally checked and calibrated the psionic readers.” Marshall Karak spat “You expect me to put the lives of my men in the hands of a witch? I take no psyker at his word, not even one of the Ultramarines.” Colonel Detta spoke “Easy marshal, we are all the Emperor’s children.” Captain Mercutio spoke “We have little other choice brother.” Karak grumbled something but then turned to reluctant silence. Kruger began speaking again “When we reach Brackus we will launch all our ground forces here. This is the largest passage that leads directly to the core.” Tempestor Riley erupted with “Wait you expect us to go down into that fething gak storm! Why not just blow the world from fething orbit?” Zonand spoke “the dense fog makes accurate targeting near impossible. But even without the fog with our current arsenal a complete Exterminatus of this world will take an estimated 200 plus hours to accomplish.” Chapter Master Harbo spoke “This is the only way to ensure the beast dies.” Inquisitor Hennard spoke “So it is decided, we will cleanse the xeno from this galaxy.” Zonand rose to his feet and spoke “We are about to embark upon one of the most hazardous expeditions that has ever been undertaken. We do this not so that our names may live eternal, we fight for the survival of The Imperium and humanity. If we do not act the Deep will swallow this region of space, and then it will swallow another and another. This is our chance to show the foul xeno the fury of the Emperor’s servants. Go now make ready we will reach Brackus in 64 hours.” The war council all rose to the feet some paid the general a salute but others just simply walked away. The room cleared and Kruger was left alone to his thoughts he knew there was no happy outcome that awaited them on Brackus.

Aboard The Emperor’s vengeance

Commissar Sheppard stood atop the bunch of crates, he had gathered his men in the one of the Templar’s cargo bay, “Men I am proud to be your commissar, I could never have asked for a more loyal or honorable bunch of men. What I ask of you is not an easy thing to ask.” Sheppard looked at the men those Faustians of the seventh who were named both fondly and ironically Paragons. “I ask for each of you to stand with me when we reach Brackus. It is likely that none of us will return. I will not order any of you to do this, you have all proved yourselves to Both me and The Emperor. If you wish, stay here and pray for our success, but those of you who will fight alongside me step forward.” A few moments of silence passed before Captain Whitewall stepped forward “Sir, it would be an honor.” Major Kidcade stepped forward “to the gates of eye of terror.” Another voice Sheppard recognized as sergeant Hammer’s spoke out “O Commissar, My Commissar.” Soon enough everyone of Sheppard’s men stepped forward. Sheppard spoke almost teary eyed with pride “Make ready then Hell awaits us.”

As the men dispersed Knight Captain Petra approached Sheppard, Lilianna in her arms. The knight handed Sheppard the baby and spoke “Your men admire you, you know that. Normal soldiers only fear their commissars, these men actually respect and think highly of you.” Sheppard smiled as he looked up from his child, “I know you must think lowly of the lot but truly they are good men.” Petra spoke with a bit of confusion “What? Because of the assassins, no. I know there are those in my own ranks who would slit my throat if knight lord Tennyson asked them to. But still just as my knights are mostly good so are your Paragons.” Sheppard smiled, but what Petra said next wiped away any joy he had “I’m going to be fighting down on Brackus.” Sheppard’s eyes widened “What no, you can’t.” “I must.” Sheppard growled in a whisper “We can’t both go and fething get killed out there, not with her.” “I will stay if you stay.” “I can’t stay.” “I know and neither can I.” Sheppard growled “I forbid you.” Petra growled back “You don’t get to forbid me from anything that’s not how this works.” A moment of silence fell between the two. Petra spoke “We both know neither of us can ever quit the field.” Sheppard looked to the child in his arms and spoke quietly “I want to quit, I want to stop fighting more than anything else, but I can’t all I am is war, I am nothing without it. Dorian was right” Petra put her forehead to Sheppard’s “I know; Sheppard the grim reality is for us there is only war.”

The Emperor’s Vengeance Cathedral

Chaplain Saladin passed through the ranks of his kneeling brothers waving his sacred Thurible
, allowing his un-helmeted kin to take in the holy incents. The Chaplain spoke his voice and swinging of the Censer the only sound throughout the chapel. “Emperor, shadows fall, and hope has fled, but guide us now and we shall burn your foes in a cleaning fire of a new dawn.” Brother Sargent Ulf heard the Chaplain’s words and inhaled the incense soon he felt dizzy and shut his eyes, flashes of battles, ancient battles, battles that dated back to the days of the Horus Heresy. Then he saw his face, the holy god Emperor’s face, unburdened by the golden throne. He pointed to Ulf and then in a flash of light saw his chapter’s sacred relic blade. Ulf rose to his feet now free from his vision he spoke “The Emperor has chosen me this day.” Chaplain removed the sheathed relic blade from his side and gave it to the Sargent “Then Go forth and prove you are worthy of his selection.”

Aboard Battle Barge Honor

Captain Julius sat in the ship’s library, he was refreshing himself on the first Tyranic war. The beasts described in these text were so different from the Hybrids; they were barely recognizable as the same species. A voice caught Julius off guard “Expanding your mind brother.” Julius looked up to see Codicier Saren, the captain spoke trying to contain his surprise “Brother Saren, I was not made aware that you had boarded my ship.” The Librarian replied “Nor did I notify anyone, there are those in this crusade I’d rather have not knowing my whereabouts.” Julius spoke “Yes I saw you made Pavus’s acquaintance I’m sure you are aware of his deeds.” Saren nodded “Indeed I am but Pavus is a useful pawn, when his use runs out he will be taken care of accordingly. I wanted to ask you some question about Brother-Acting-Captain Aurelius.” Julius thought it an odd topic of discussion “What about Aurelius?” “You joined this crusade shortly after of the destruction of Gallor Prime correct?” “Aye.” “And you were head of the search party that was tasked to recover the captain yes?” “Aye I was.” “Prior to that the two of you never had any previous contact.” “No, we met before on Macragge, though back then I had never said a word to the man as I was meeting with Captain Cato Sicarius.” “At first you were unaware the captain had faked his death, you thought him dead.” “Aye I did.” Saren looked curiously at the marine “Do you believe Captain Aurelius a faithful servant of the God Emperor?” Julius eyes widened it never occurred till him now Aurelius’s loyalty was in question “He is one of the most devout men I know. Codicier is there something wrong with Brother Aurelius.” Saren rose to his feet and and spoke “That is all I needed thank you Captain.” Julius watched as the Psyker left the study. Julius felt an extreme almost unbearable pain in his skull for moment then it stopped. Julius thought to himself what was he doing? He was doing something and his train of thought just escaped him. Odd. Julius spotted the book in his lap and then immediately remembered, he was studying the first tyranic war. Master Calgar was a skilled tactician, but lacked much of Guilliman’s writing talents.


Claws teeth talon cutting gutting and bleeding. Feral screech of foul xeno spawn. Darkness darkness that consumed everything and as the last light went dim, words “The Deep sees you Aurelius.”

Aurelius awoke in his bed drenched in cold sweat. He arose from his bed and walked over to his paragon blade. Being in the swords presence gave Aurelius a sense of calm. Aurelius walked over to his mirror and sink, the Ultramarine splashed water on his face to cool himself. Aurelius looked up and for the briefest second he saw not his own reflection in the mirror but the image of that foul chaos sorcerer. Aurelius struck at the mirror and shattered it. He looked to the broken shards and saw only his own fragmented reflection. A voice came over the intercom in Aurelius’s quarters “Captain, this is Serf Lymen we will be exiting warp into Brackus space in two hours.” Aurelius regained his composure before speaking “Very good I will be down shortly.”

The Imperial Fleet exited warp in unison in the space around Brackus. They were not alone in the void a hundreds of Hybrid ships awaited them and met them the crusaders with a swarm of bioorganic weaponry, globs of acid so corrosive it could eat through six decks of a ship. Thankfully these could not penetrate the ships Gellar Field. Still it was a bloody encounter massive tendrils clinging to ships reeking havoc to their hulls, Heavy lances punching clear through hybrid bio vessels, and ramming maneuvers from both sides from every possible angle. After a brutal two hours of naval fighting the Imperials had earned the victory. But at a heavy cost to the imperials as several ships were destroyed by crushing and corrosive attacks of the Hybrids.

Governor Pavus examined the after battle reports, the Jericho had been lost and the Batorax was severely damaged but his losses were tame in comparison to some of the other forces. The kora had begun its rescue operation for the few life boats that escaped the Jericho. Captain Kassani spoke “My lord we must deploy immediately; the next wave of hybrids is likely only a few minutes away.” Pavus nodded “Agreed, The Space Marines are going to clear a beach head for us with their drop pod assault order all the men to standby in the shuttles.” Pavus leaned close into the captain and spoke “Are the wolves ready to pounce?” Kassani smiled “Aye Lord they are.” Pavus smiled “Good.”

The surface of Brackus was a foul tainted place. The Deep’s taint touched every organism here. Twisted plants that grew foul spores in service to the Hivemind. The region where the Imperials chose to strike was the largest opening into the tunnel network.

The Black Templar Drop Pod rode down rocketed down to the world’s surface with the quaking fury of the Templar’s rage. Inside the pod rode Brother Sargent ulf encased in the Armor of Faith, in his hand the Black Sword. Ulf felt mightier than when he wore his far larger Terminator plate, he felt greater than what he was, he felt himself to be a living vessel of faith and honor. With this blade he would smite the Emperor’s most wretched foes. Around him nine of his battle brothers. That final crashed came and the pod opened and the swarm of Tyranids approached the open pod. Ulf roared and counter charged the beast. Around Ulf pods from various other chapters began crashing into the planet’s surface. The Fists were next to hit the ground, Captain Mercutio ordered his men into firing lines, and with lethal efficiency they began carving away at the horde. Chapter Master Harbo and his Terminator guard teleported to the planet’s surface and unleashed their heavy flamers and assault cannons upon the chitten-plated hordes. The two companies of Ultramarines struck with great ferocity, with each of the captains engaging the hybrids with blade. Codicier Saren channeled the magics of the warp to summon a great blue vortex that sucked dozens of the hybrids into the Warp. Then The Marshall teleported in with his honor guard they met their foe with the lethal combo of thunder-hammer and storm-shield. Unwieldy hammer strikes sent fragments of bone and carapace everywhere.

The Astartes fought for near twenty minutes before the first guardmen showed up.

Commissar Sheppard held on to the hatch handle as he gazed out his Valkyrie at the carnage below. The red light flashed and turned green, the commissar activated his power sword. Sheppard took a deep breath and shouted with a grin underneath his rebreather “Here we go”. The Commissar then proceeded to leap from the Valkyrie activating his grav chute, the men of his company soon followed. They hit the ground only a few feet away from the Hybrid menace. Sheppard shouted as he unleashed his bolt pistol on the encroaching horde, his veteran troopers spraying the horde with with their shot guns. As the horde drew closer to Sheppard and his men their numbers began thinning from the sniper fire curtesy of Tempestor Riley and his men.

After an hour of fighting and an uncountable body count the Hybrid’s began retreating, no doubt to regroup for another assault.


Auriellus looked into the mouth of the cavern the dense fog rolling out from it, he swore he heard whispers escaping from it but they were to soft to understand. Captain Mercutio began shouting to his men “I want those fortifications and turrets up with in the hour brothers.” Dozens of yellow clad space marines worked rigorously to establish the defense node outside the mouth of the cave. Karak looked to the mouth of the abyss of the tunnel and spoke “We will need a small force that can strike quickly at the hive mind.” Captain Reiner of the 11th Faustian Fussilers spoke out “Sir you should take my ruffians, my men are fast and excel in close quarters.” Sheppard spoke approaching karak as he wiped away hybrid blood from his blade “Aye Reiner’s men don’t fight pretty but they are some of the hardiest and most aggressive Faust has to offer.” Julius laughed “High praises commissar what of your company.” Sheppard confessed “While my Paragon’s are peerless, they lack the savagery of Reiner’s lot.” Reiner laughed “Aww I’m flattered you think so highly of us Jack.” Sheppard added “Myself and several of my men shall also join you.” Karak spoke “You shall have my hammer, and those of my finest.” Aurelius interjected “I must go, as well I will leave my men to stay and defend the entrance Julius will command them.” Julius pounded his fist to his chest and spoke “It would be an honor brother.” Knight Captain Petra removed her helm and spoke with a laugh “You didn’t plan to leave me here do you?” Sheppard wasn’t sure how he felt about Petra accompanying them, he had no clue whether it was more dangerous to stay and defend or delve into the the unknown. At the vary least if she went he could watch out for her, though it would be more likely she would be the one watching out for him. Aurelius spoke “So its decided we will be task force Omega. Everyone else will stay here to defend.” Karak laughed “Jut like old times aye Sheppard.” The commissar smiled “But I think I preferred the orks over the Hybrids.”

And so the party of near fifty descended into the caverns below illuminating the darkness with the bright neon glow orbs attached to their flak armor, and lights affixed to the helms of terminators.

Space around Brackus 2 hours after Task Force Omega embarked set fourth into the abyss.

The Imperial Fleet had made their anchorage around Brackus. Hundreds of communications were passed between the ships all confirming the horror breaking out of warp. In a flash countless organic vessels broke out of Warp and lashed out at the imperials destroying several ships in less than a minute. However, the Imperial ships were but an obstacle in the path of their true objective as the ships unleashed an unending swarm of organic pods at the world.

Captain Mercutio held his master crafted bolt gun with a deadlock grip. The marine peered into the dense fog that surrounded them waiting for the first of the Hybrid menace to reveal itself. All the Imperials had all gotten word of the Hybrid’s reinforcements and each man knew they would be upon them in a matter of minutes. Above the fortifications stood the two proud Free Blade Knights Alistair and Cassandra, their Avenger Gatling guns readying to fire. Captain Julius stood behind the Aegis defense line his finger locked onto his bolt pistol. A feral scream rang in the distance as the first of the horde came into view. The Hybrid was swiftly met by the bolt round of Captain Mercutio. Seconds later another dozen took the fallen Hybrid’s place, and once they fell another hundred came storming to replace them. Soon enough blood curdling screeches and the thunderous fire and crack of Imperial weaponry was all that could be heard.

Commissar Sheppard examined the fleshy walls of the cave, they moved as if they were alive like they were the veins of the monster they hunted. Sheppard spoke out to the party “These are no tunnels.” Karak responded “No this must be a part of the hive mind.” Aurelius knew this place, he had been here once before in a nightmare. The Ultramarine spoke “Let us find this beast and put an end to it.” Karak spoke “Aye brother.” The party continued forward into the organic cave. Soon they came across a odd spore before they had a chance to think a dozen Hybrids broke free from the pod and charged for the Party two of Reiner’s men were killed in the surprise attack before they could eliminate the living booby traps.

The Party continued down the tunnels of flesh when several of Captain Renier’s men moved to rear postions. None of Task Force Omega paid this move any mind. But sergeant Perry nodded to his men and they aimed their las-rifles at the backs of their comrades. Captain Reiner turned to them and began shouting “What the Feth are you doing!” He raised his Las-Pistol but a full charge las shot to the chest stopped him from any further actions. Sheppard watched as Captain Reiner fell over to his knees and then toppled over and died. The traitors fired several more shots killing several of Commissar Sheppard’s Paragons and several Ruffians who remained loyal to their Captain. Karak yelled “Fething Traitors!” Reaper raised his hammer to strike at one of the traitors, but a shot from a Melta from a masked soldier ended him. The masked figure turned the weapon on to Karak and spoke with an altered voice “Don’t you fething move, less you end up like your man over there.” Karak wanted to charge the man but if he moved it would only cost him his life and the lives of his remaining honor guard. The soldier armed with the melt spoke “You see that’s a good little Templar Now lay down your arms.” He held his hand up to his helmet to activate his vox “Area secure.” a few seconds passed before a blue swirling vortex opened up behind the traitors and the architect of this heresy revealed itself.

On the surface

The Hybrid Horde was endless, the Imperial defenses were being pushed to the extreme, several times already the Hybrid broke through the defense line killing guardsmen by the hundreds. Thankfully The Astartes were able to turn the momentum back to the Imperials. Brother Sargent Ulf, who had himself received a vision from the Emperor twisted his blade in the torso of a rampaging Hybrid Warrior. A brutal roar drew his gaze from across the battlefield. A rampaging Hive Tyrant came charging across the battlefield its lesser kin clearing a path for as it hurtled toward the Imperial line. Ulf rised his blade and felt his soul burn brighter with blessed fire he roared “FOR THE EMPEROR!” as he charged out to meet the beast in combat.

Ulf dodged the initial sweep of the beast’s Talons but was caught by the second pass. Though the pain of the beast talon passing through his gut was excruciating he mustered enough strength to severe the impaling talon and to plunge his black sword into the throat of the beast. He ran it from the beast throat to its tors coating himself in the hybrid’s blood. Ulf roared as he emerged out from under the slain monstrosity. Dozens of beast began swarming the Champion but they were cleaved by the blessed blade. A Tervigon came stampeding at the Marine but Ulf grabbed the monstrous creature by its armored head piece and mounted the beast. He rammed his sword downward slaying the creature causing it to stumble forward and crash into its kin that were closer to the ground. A Harpy swooped lowly over Ulf’s Head attempting to vector strike the Templar. But Ulf grabbed the flying xeno spawn and clung to taking off with it into the air. Ulf climbed the creature’s carapace and reached its wing. Ulf sliced the leathery flesh of the wing and beast could no longer sustain its flight and so it and Ulf came crashing to the ground. Impacting the dirt with the force a meteor.

The Tunnel

Lord Governor Hannibal Pavus stepped through the portal along with a trio of psykers and his Faustian honor guard. Pavus approached the party with a twisted grin “Well, well, well if it isn’t Kruger’s three favorite playthings Marshall Karak, Commissar Sheppard, and Acting-Captain Hadris Aurelius.” Aurelius growled “Pavus. You can remove your helmet now Kassani.” The melta equipped sergeant revealed his face. The Mercenary laughed “You have a good ear Captain Aurielus.” Aurelius spoke “I knew it was you when I first saw you at the Lord General’s summit. You’re not as clever as you think.” Kassani laughed “I beg to differ I’m not the one being ambushed.” Karak growled “You Heretic you would try this now, when we are about to vanquish the Hive mind.” Pavus smiled “Oh yes now is the perfect time. You see once I slay you I will then end the wretched hive mind and I will be the greatest hero the Imperium has ever seen, so great in fact that when I declare myself to be the rightful Warmaster of this crusade none will dare argue against the slayer of the Deep.” Petra raised her shield and spoke “Your fething mad Pavus your plan won’t work.” Pavus laughed “Oh I think it will Knight Captain. I always get my way, eventually.” Pavus drew his Plasma pistol and aimed it at Captain Aurelius Pavus spoke with full confidance “I’m really sorry I couldn’t make it to your last funeral, but I promise to be at this one.”

A moment before Pavus could pull the trigger yet another Blue portal opened behind Pavus and out stepped Captain Julius and Codicier Saren. Pavus shouted “Kill them kill them all.” But before the traitorous ruffians could fire their weapons Saren hit them with a telekinetic blast while Captain Julius let loose with his bolter. Kassani aimed his melta at captain Julius but Aurelius plunged his blade into the old Cadian’s back. Kassani spat blood and toppled over. Pavus fired his plasma pistol at Julius but his iron halo completely deflected the plasma. Sheppard punched Pavus and knocked him to the ground, he put his blade to Pavus’s throat. Pavus smiled “I suppose it is somewhat poetic that it should be you to kill me.” Sheppard growled “You, stupid bastard you had literally everything, why would you squander it.” Pavus laughed grimly “Simple I wanted more.” Pavus took a deep breath “Let’s get this over with.” Sheppard raised his saber and plunged it into Pavus’s throat spilling his blood onto the floor of flesh. Captain Aurelius looked over to Codicier Saren “Thank you brother we’d be dead had it not been for your intervention.” Saren replied “Direct your thanks to Captain Julius, as soon as he realized Pavus was missing he knew you were in danger.” Aurelius turned to Julius “Thank you brother I am in your debt.” Julius spoke “Think nothing of it brother, it was a pleasure to end those heretics.” Karak looked to Reaper, the Melta went clear through his holy plate, “Brother Reaper died for nothing, damn that bastard.” Karak looked over to where Kassani fell to find he was no longer there, “Kassani escaped.” Sheppard growled “We must find him.” Aurelius spoke “There is no time, he will likely bleed out soon enough.”

The Party continued downward into the abyss until they reached the final chamber.

Sheppard had no clue what he expected the Hive Mind to look like, but not how it did. Task force Omega entered the Hive Mind’s chamber. What they saw was near unexplainable. A green humanoid of pure energy imprisoned in a mass of bio matter, shackled to a wall that it has long been intergraded in to. Petrra spoke out “What in the Emperor’s name is that thing.” Codicier spoke “It’s a Transcendent C’tan, an echo of a foul ancient xeno god. But even a god’s echo is still powerful. Two things could have happened here either the Hybrids found this creature and captured it, or the more likely scenario it attempted to control the Hive mind but found the beast not so easily controlled. Regardless killing the creature will be a mercy upon it.” Aurelius drew his blade and approached the radiating fragment of a god. Aurelius drew his Paragon blade and plunged it into the C’Tan’s chest. The beast roared and filled Aurelius mind with a vision.

A name so ancient, the drowned god. The screams went silent and the blood calls calmed, The Deep is Dead. Thank You Captain Aurelius.

Colonel Amir squeezed the trigger of his las gun and nothing his charge ran dry and a maelstrom of Hybrids surged at him. Riley found his hot shot las gun also to be out of charge, he dropped his pack and drew his combat knife, while Amir drew his Scimitar. Riley roared as the Hybrid’s drew near but the beast all stumbled over each other and died. Soon enough their boddies dissolved on a molecular level leaving no proof of their presence other than the dead Imperials they left behind. The same was true for the embattled Hybrids and Imperials in space. Riley laughed “I guess we won.”

All across the sector as Each Hybrid received the final signal from the Hive mind each fell over dead and dissolved into nothingness.

As Omega Squad exited the tunnels every Imperial soldier awaited them paying them all their respects. A single Faustian trooper approached Sheppard and spoke “Lord Commissar what of Governor Pavus?” Sheppard spoke “He is dead.” A Fautian Knight approached “My Lord Commissar, Knight Lord Tennyson fell during the assault, we have no one left of any significant rank to lead us.” Petra approached “Yes we do we have Lord Commissar Sheppard.” Sheppard’s eyes widened “What?” The Knight spoke “She’s right sir, you are the highest ranking officer we have.” Sheppard looked out to his men and cleared his throat, he wasn’t sure what to say. “Men and Women of Faust. For to long you have been bound to a wicked governor. But if you will follow me I promise you all redemption for your sins.” Silence was all that could be heard. Captain Gaspard Vorvan stepped forward and spoke “I will follow you my lord.” Whitewall stepped forward “To the Eye of Terror and back Sir.” Soon enough the Faustians began applauding the Commissar.

Aboard the Valin’s Revenge Aurelius rested in his bed

Aurelius found himself back on the fields of Gallor Prime. Across from him stood the Sorcerer. The warp tainted fiend spoke through his helmet “you have done well Aurelius only one trial remains put an end to Arachus and you can claim you destiny.” Aurelius shouted “I want no part in that.” The Sorcerer laughed “You have no choice captain destiny can not be changed.”

Aurelius awoke again.

The bipping noise woke Edward from his half-daze. To call
It sleep would be overly gracious.
He gingerly lifted the vox piece with one hand, "Seneschal here."
"Seneschal Fairfax, we have the result of Commissar Selka's medical exam."
"Go ahead." he kept his voice level. It wasn't a challenge considering the fatigue.

*

"Will it hurt?" Garth stood at the glass, his arms neatly by his sides, his face calm.
"No, Garth. You can lie down, take the mask, and then we turn on the gas, and you just feel drowsy, then sleep. It won't even make you cough." Reynard stepped forward, and rested his hand on the window, his own face tired beyond belief.
The commissar exhaled slowly, considered, and then asked, "I won't wake up midway or anything?"
"Absolutely." Fairfax found it hard to look at his friend, trapped like an animal in a specimen tank.
"Then I'm ready. Just promise me that it'll be over before he gets here." Garth rested his hand against the glass where Fairfax's was, stepped back and saluted his Lord captain.
"You may yet be-" Reynard met Selka's eyes and stopped speaking.

*

"The blood tests and wound site test are... Inconclusive, sir." the voice at the other end of the vox sounded frightened.
Edward felt as though he had shifted outside of himself, as space had distorted somehow, "Inconclusive?"
"There is biological contamination, but we can't get a positive match. It could be that the infection is too fresh. It could be something else entirely, sir."
Barely listening, Edward murmured, "I'm coming down there."
"Sir, I'm afraid you cannot. Lord Captain's orders that the entire area is in lockdown pending a system and facility clean. We are yet to dispose of the remains."
"Remains?" he jolted to his feet.
The voice sounded uncertain, "Yes sir? From the examination rooms. They cannot be put into the crew reclamation system due to the biological contamination. We are waiting for incineration later this morning."
Edward hit his door at speed, and was sprinting by the end of the corridor.

*

"Tell me what happened that evening... Please."
Mordos held his hands at Garth's temples, it was hard to tell if he was touching the commissar. If he were, it was a molecular level of minute contact. Gentle expression upon his features, yet his hands were steady as crafted steel rails, "It's evening, there's a fine crafted sofa, the two of us, and slightly too much mead. The mood shifts..." the psyker's brow knitted.
"Not that evening!" Fairfax cut across him quickly, "The evening on Trisburg. In the forest."
The psyker turned his head tiredly and replied softly, "I know Lord Captain, I was trying to give him something to smile about. Going in relaxed to these investigations allows less resistance to the procedure."
Selka's face had indeed relaxed from the usual hard edged grimace, to one of quiet sleep.
Mordos returned to his work, breathing slowly and near silently, until, "Forest; it's evening. The governor's guard slip away while I'm not looking, they think I haven't realised. Better off without them, but I feel wary. Must report when I can.
The vox is dead. The valley has killed it. I'm alone. Worried. They need me to find the troops, I can't be frightened. The Emperor protects those who work in his name..." the psyker's face creased slightly as he continued to focus, "Protect us; protect me so I can protect them. The tracker has started sounding.
I locate it in a clearing. Nobody here. Lost? Snagged? Trap. Stolen tracker, unissued serial. Trap."
Fairfax felt his stomach tighten. The guard he had welcomed to his ship, that he still had safe aboard, had set his commissar, his friend, up.
Marcus. He grit his teeth, "Continue. Please."
"Trisburg guard. Don't trust him. He somehow knows what we discussed aboard the Sovereign. The personal guard; they're spies feeding back to the lunatic governor. We knew, but didn't know the extent.
More guard. One grabs me. I try and throw him. Then the rest pull me to the ground. They tell me how my own captain is going to kill me. How I should be grateful to them. They beat me, but they are inexperienced. I've had worse. Then one stabs me in the neck with a something blunt. I feel it scrape bone. They're faking an infection site.
I fight harder, but they weigh me down. One holds a cloth to my face. I hold my breath and struggle. But I have to breathe. I can't hold it. I've failed..." Mordos trailed off, and continued focusing on Garth. After a few moments, he slowly removed his hands, "I took him back to a more pleasant experience. A good state of mind until this drug wears off. Otherwise he would be trapped in that frantic stress for hours."
"Thank you, you've done more for us than you could ever know." Fairfax grasped one of Mordo's slender hands between his own, and shook it, gratefully.
"I'm beginning to grasp how much." the pale psyker smiled.

*

As his brother stepped out of the quarantine area, Edward was still traveling at full speed, propelled by his anger.
Without stopping, the seneschal delivered a vicious haymaker to the side of the lord captain's head, and sent him sprawling to his knees. He then stood still, staring down as Fairfax struggled to right himself, "You bastard! You killed all of them!"
The nearby guard froze, and Reynard stopped in his slow ascent, his hand raised to stop them from firing, "You get that one. Move to strike me again and I will not be so merciful."

"Merciful?" Edward spat at the floor, "You killed him! Couldn't wait to be rid of him, I don't doubt. Ruining your high society image. Us roughneck wastrels are like that, Rey." he stared accusingly into his brother's eyes.
"Edward, you are causing a scene," Fairfax fully straightened up, "we had no choice. He requested it done before you could get here, after his psyche exam. I acted on his wishes." he lied, seamlessly.
The young seneschal was stunned into silence. He saw the bigger picture, slowly. Beside Fairfax stood the gaunt psyker. Around them were the men that Garth had sworn to protect. His shoulders sagged, along with his fury, "May I see him?" he asked quietly.
"Through the glass. The area is still contaminated." Fairfax led his brother toward the examination rooms, until they reached Garth's. There they stopped by the small window. Selka was laying still, his face calm, looking all the world like a very convincing dead commissar.
Edward stood, frozen to the spot, unable to process what he was seeing.
"Come, Ed," Reynard carefully placed his arm around his brother's shoulders, and led him away again, "I think it's time we collected what we need from down below, and got away from this place."

OK, so my final chunk thats a combinations of several now and rather massive.


Crusade departs

****

The fleet began to leave the planets orbit slowly pulling away from the gravity and plunging into the void and the war that was now coming to climax vs the hybrid menace. Down on the planet the PDF had been trained, drilled and now farmers stood as proud fighters who slowly block by block where driving out the genestealers, cults and hive by hive reclaiming there planet as there’s.

In the mountains the now semi aligned tribes of techno Barbarians who had resisted rule for centuries had in exchange for weapons joined the fight and who’s ancient borders where now driving deeper in the land held by the savage orks supported by PDF and heavy equipment.

The planet would take years to conquer and to fully reclaim but the back of the great beasts where broken and now the drive deep to purge them had begun.

****

A Commissars choice

****

Shepard was stood at the bridge windows, looking out on the void as the fleet began to pull away from the planets orbit, to the flanks he saw Black Sword and Devine light and clustered around was the Heavy destroyers Asgardian, Caesar, Victory and Spartan flanked themselves by the Escort destroyers like packs of hunters lead by larger ships. Ahead what made him nervous as vast clouds of energy rolled in, storms like those he had seen cripple and tear troop ships to buckled hulks.

Marshall Karak approached Sheppard silhouetted against the lights of the void, “congratulations on the Daughter but it of business i speak, If Pavus was to die, there would be need of a new leader. “ Shepard was not surprised but expected this would come, but with the hybrids coming. “Lord Marshall, your not suggesting what im thinking are you? If you failed, and am i the person to unite the Fausteens, a vipers nest of his own allies and retainers. You forget, this man is a craven but no idiot” “Just think on it Shepard, im offering the chance to become a true lord, and master, your daughter and wife will want for nothing, you will be master of your fate and future. Agh yes the storm, lesser ships would go round, we are not. It might get rough but come up in a few hours and you will truly see what a real warship is made of”

Marshall Karak went over to the consoles leaving Sheppard to think as he saw the energy roll closer. Was it worth the risks, Krak was right he could have anything he wanted, family want for nothing but was he willing to take such risks?

****

The fleet had finally hit the main part of the storm as great arks of energy crackled off the shields and some of the greatest bolts slammed and burned paint off the frost steel armoured hull, across the fleet all other silhouetted as a great flash impacted near the bridge shields. Sheppard sat watching the storm beside his wife and daughter; it was events like this that made him relise how small humanity was. Vox systems crackled through, “Section reports no damage, all systems holding” “Engines, Report Flank power, systems holding, shield power at maximum” . Sheppard held his family tighter as a great wave slammed into the bow and sent the ships light flickering, Shouts came, “that was the biggest yet, 30 degree’s port” “Order fleet, turn into storm, Full speed ahead, 30 degree’s to port” .

No one noticed the 3 sat down in front of one of the massive windows, small humans when compared to such power what could they do? Yet they watched as waves that in the past he saw tear troop ships apart, there living cargo vented helplessly to the void shatter and break on the mighty warships hull, its pace relentless against the full might of the storms. Petra finally stirred, the storm was a terrifying yet exhilarating sight, “You know, if anyone ever said i would be here watching the storms, my daughter in my arms and husband by my side id of probably punched them, yet here i am, its odd the roads life take us on” Sheppard took time to reply, the storm was mesmerising, yet words refused to come also. “yes, life is funny, Who’d of thought that night drunk in the bar on whatever planet would end up in a bolter wedding over a dead world, a child and a future. I don’t know what the fates have in my path, but this does not seem bad” “Not bad, think you could do better than me Don Shepard” Petra Laughed, “Not in the slightest, i am a Commissar, my family is unknown, my home planet a blasted ruin and my future was to die on some blasted world alone, another dead human, one of trillions. Yet here i am. There’s a reason they do not like Commissars to marry, you want to live”

Meanwhile many decks below the crew readied and prepared for battles to come and the celebrations rang loudly out, they may all be dead soon so life was lived to its fullest. Commissar Alenko was lying with lieutenant Paka on a old but soft blanket, the Light of the storm casting shadows on the old observation deck walls from its dome as it broke over the ships shields. Life was not bad, and if was to meet his end in the coming battle, he was to have lived first. In his right hand he was playing with a small badge that Sheppard had given him, his promotion to full commissar earned during the battle of the tunnels leading his section heroicly to hold the line until the fausteen knights charge could save them and driving the enemy back despite over 75% loss’s.

****

Whatever the future brought the massed fleet raced to its fate through the great storms and then onto the deep and terrifying warp where they would arrive to join the great battle fleet and then they would decide the fate of the entire sector.

****

The Battles end

****

Lord Marshall Karak looked upon the site of the massed fleet that had come to finally end this menace and crush them at their heart, every ship bore scars of the savage battles above the planet in the form of crushed metal, acid burns and hulls pitted with hundreds of minor and some larger wrents torn through entire decks and sections. On his Flag ship the Emperors Vengeance despite its mighty armour, shields and guns able to raze entire cities in hours it had been at the centre of the fight alongside the Honour and other large capital ships of the fleet, dozens of crews worked to patch and repair the hull, the training bays and a large portion of the bow where open to the void and relying on secondary systems to operate.

Much was the same on the acid burned and scarred Black Sword and Divine Light. Each ship had sections of armour torn away and acid had melted away entire decks and compartments. “Spannerous, what’s the status of the fleet?” The tech marine was rushed, so much to do, so little time. “Bad, we have warp drives intact, much armour and hull damage, most of the plasma drives online, weapons are down 20% or higher and the damage goes deep from acid scars. Blacksword in sections 348 has lost 8 decks and a magazine. “ Downcast, “That bad, we cannot continue then, we go to Maggage for repair, we will find brothers there and facilities we need. “

Facing the great alter in the ships highest cathedral nearly 100 metal urns stood each proudly bearing the chapter symbols and name of the fallen, at the centre of this closest to the alter was the now ash’s of Brother SGT Reaper of the Marshalls Honour guard. As all gathered the ceremony was a solemn one where each brothers name, rank and great deeds where read out, each one honoured and taken down to the crypts of the chapters dead after Chaplain Vargos pronounced the final vow and released them from their service, Duty fulfilled to ascend to the Emperors realm. Lord Marshall Karak carried each one down to the vaults; his orders had ment their deaths now he would place each one in the dark and silent crypts.

In the sea of black armour, robes and a few stood out at the back, Lord Commissar Sheppard, Captain Julius, Acting captain Aureilus and Knight Captain Petra had attended of their own choice, a oddity but none begrudged there prescience as they had stood side by side to the last moments of the battle.

****

[i]Rivals depart as Brothers
[/i]
****

“Sheppard, Lord Commissar General as i must call you now it seems, I have given orders that a package be sent, codes so that if Faust needs aid we will come to your aid. You served alongside with Honour, so we do your honour in return. “ “you have a friend in Ultramar too, May you prove to be a good lord of the Fausteen system, we have high hope for you Sheppard” Surprised, things had changed quickly, from Commissar to now commanding the Fausteen fleet and armies. “Thankyou, as i do extend the honour in return, Faust will come to your aid should you need it. “ Shaking hands with all present, “Sheppard, do not forget me before you leave us” Taking the marines massive hand and saluting. “None could forget you Ulf, stories of a marine slaying titans, beasts and turning the tide of battle have surfaced, they under estimate i think”

“Ha, now that’s the Sheppard i remember, Good luck in your future Lord general as we now call you. From your last showing, if you where younger we could of made a marine of you!” The tall Figure of Chaplain vargos approached, carrying a book bound in fine leather and a sword. “You where truly the Emperors champion that day Ulf, your deeds shall not be forgotten. Knight Captain i present you a Sword forged by Spannerous, the head techmarine. Engraved of your exploits and valour, as well as a rather rare book on swordsmanship im sure will find a worthy keeper in you. I wish you the best in your future and same to your daughter. “

“You honour me Chaplain Vargos, when i tell my daughter of this Crusade, none of you shall be forgotten, The Stoic Marshall, the Brave Captains and the Chaplain who’s faith was unbreakable and the Honour Guard who stood against titans and won, all warriors of legend. “ Petra replied, taking the gifts, “Now i believe out shuttle is due and Sheppard’s sense of time Lord general or not is still bad as ever” with a laugh. “Hero’s of the Imprium, i wish you well and bid you free to visit Faust for you shall find a warm welcome among our court”

“Before you depart, Ultramarines. I head to Maggage for repair, i shall see you at the Fortress of Hera i hope, when you get there join me on the training halls and finally see who will have won that duel we talked of” with a smile the Acting Captain replied “Deal, i shall face you in the southern hall, you will appreciate that one, built at the time of Primarchs it is a worthy place for this”

****

Rise of a Lord General

****

Sheppard walked onto the bridge of his flagship watching the battered Templers fleet leave the system and a flash in the darkness as warp drives plunged them out of real space. The ship was his, the replaced first company now formed from the 7th had taken charge. The old follies and pomp of Pavus was being removed as Lord Commissar General Sheppard took charge and began to slowly root out the corrupt and craven remnants of the Pavus faction to bring a brighter new future to the fausteen system.

Stood alongside him Petra held his daughter in her arms and watched the flash of light vanish. “who would have thought that we would end up here, we are free, our Daughter will want for nothing and have a true chance at life, a chance we never had. This future all because you chose to tell a Marshall of a Coup. Honour has its rewards” Holding his family close, “it does, i began the Crusade a lost man, with no hope, now i can shape my destiny with a true reason to fight for and fate has decided to bless us” Looking down at Lithuana’s slightly golden eyes, “Golden eyes for a golden future”

****

The Black Arrives in the Realm of Ultramar

****

The repairs would take many months to complete at the high orbital docks over Maggage, despite the sturdy warships each was badly damaged and now docked alongside the many blue hulled warships of the Ultramarines as crews in the thousands worked to rebuild them. Welcomed to the Fortress as brothers and friends they trained, recuperated and studied in its ancient and venerated halls and so forth began a new era of Chapter alliances and Brotherhood.

****

Echsion VIII flourishes

****

On the Planet the new Chapter keep known now as Fort Reaper was well on its way to being finished, the planet had since the Crusade undergone a revival as the two great enemies that had nearly brought about its doom where crushed and became a valued and productive imperial world who’s Native Mushrooms now could be found as far as Faust, Ultramar and many other worlds.

****
The Crusades end.
Crusade of Fury Signing out.

The system of Charadon was no stranger to war. First they were conquered by the Imperium from nameless xenos, burning the creatures for their dying god. Next came the orks, vile greenskins who sought to plunder the lands and shape them to their barbaric ways. Now the Imperium comes again, seeking to liberate her from the xenos once more. Others came, adding salt to the wounds as the blood started to spill yet again. Indeed, Charadon is no stranger to war. But even the battle scarred planets hadn't seen the destruction of the Warsmith. Archarus, traitor of one thousand years ten times over, made sure the planets would remember his name after their inhabitants were long since vanquished. Sandfall and Arcturia had died underneath a barrage of virus bombs; any signs of life had been completely annihilated from the planets, and replaced with shattered remains of what once was and storms of sand and dust.

The daemonic legions of Khorne had swarmed what the Imperials had left to defend their planets. Axe and tusk mauled their way through their ships, leaving trails of blood in their wake. Keb'hal roared in triumph as the last body fell, lapping in every sound, every sight, every smell he could take in. The Navy stood no chance against his axe, and now it was time for bigger prey. No more would he settle for the young and foolish humans, or the mindless tyranid. He needed an actual challenge, and the warp beast knew exactly where to find it. "To the Warsmith we march! We shall put him to the final test!" The Blood Daemon roared, and raised his gore covered axe into the air. His kindred echoed his cry, lost to their bloodlust.

Voorhees had watched the Heart of Iron sail past, preparing to make its final voyage into the Charadon system. The raptor had his own ideas, however. He realized this attack was too dangerous, and would only lead to their demise. Not only that, but Vorhees despised Archarus and his loyalty to the warp fiends. He may have given up his own soul to the gods, but Vorhees had every intention of keeping his. The raptor had directed his own ship in the opposite direction, heading to the West and as far from the system as he could. With him went Oracheis, grand schemer and Arch Heretech of Archarus' Unholy Crusade. The tech marine had also saw the folly of Archarus' charge, and knew the raptor provided the perfect escape from death.

Pugarr had realized the raptor's betrayal, and had turned his own ship's guns onto Vorhees', seeking only to prove his loyalty to Archarus. The raptor wasn't surprised at the Warsmith's lapdog and his actions, and had looked forward to what he did next. The rear end of Pugarr's ship was engulfed in flames, and the Iron Warrior spent his last minutes cursing the double crosser before the flames took him to hell. Vorhees smiled at the sight of his old nemesis' death, and appreciated the skill of Oracheis. Few would have been able to make such a potent bomb, out of the ship's own engines nonetheless. With his score settled, Vorhees returned his focus to flight from Charadon.

Archarus stepped over a man's corpse, repressing the involuntary spasms of his own body. Something had changed after he had killed the people of Grimdi. Something ancient and malicious had awoken inside of him after the first bomb had fallen. No, it had been there since his first deal with Keb'hal, and his allegiance to Khorne. His own soul had been changing; now it was barely able to be concidered human, and pure, in its own damning way. Archarus had barely realized he had sunk to his knees, and had begun tearing into the corpse below him with his thunder hammer. The Warsmith didn't notice his own men surrounding him, some even raising their bolters at him, demanding what their Warsmith was doing. Archarus was too far gone for such trivial matters. The body below him had long since been pulverized into nothingness, and a single word forced itself into the Warsmith's mind.

Ascension.

Archarus felt a pressure built up inside of him, and his vision collapsed into darkness. While the Warsmith's mind faded into oblivion, his body carried on. Wings cracked through the terminator armor, followed by spikes and a curved horns that erupted from his skull. The armor itself boiled from the power of the warp, and molded itself to the Warsmith, creating a second skin. The nearest astartes didn't have the chance to make a sound before his head was crushed in a taloned hand. The next marine, of the Fallen Order, let loose several bolt rounds before a tail impaled him to the wall, and severed him into two gory halves. No other astartes fared any better, and Archarus regained consciousness surrounded by the corpses of his own soldiers, and coated in their blood. Except that it wasn't Archarus that had awoken, but a daemon prince of the warp in his stead. Archarus was dead, a mortal and undeserving of witnessing the final moments of Charadon's life. The Warsmith had become so much more than Archarus, now he was a god in his own right; a being that no human could hope to counter, if they could even comprehend his existence. The daemon looked down at the thunder hammer in his hand.

"Weak." It growled, and in a flash the weapon had changed; the thunder hammer had elongated, and had formed a crozius, topped with the star of chaos. The daemon grinned at his new weapon, revealing rows of teeth that stretched all the way to his cheekbones. What once was Archarus stalked towards where his army waited; the Prince of Khorne had plans for Grimdi. The loyalist lapdogs would come to him, but they would not go back. Only the forces of Khorne would survive what was to come next, and the Prince would send the rest to the Skull Throne himself.

"This is Cargo Hauler one-dash-six-dash-four-dash-niner-dash-zero, requesting permission to board."

Captain Dekkal cast a cursory glance at the shipping manifests for the Reforged Sovereign. Until a few minutes ago, he didn't know that the Sovereign was accepting any more local traders. In fact, he didn't know if they still were. But this particular cargo hauler had been rather insistent on docking, broadcasting the same message for several minutes now. Dekkal sighed as the hauler repeated itself for the umpteenth time, and reached for a vox horn.

"This is the Reforged Sovereign. Your permission to dock is withheld until we can identify your cargo and identity. Until then, just sit tight and-"

"No, please! I- I have permission! From the Lord Governor himself! A trade of goods, he said. A gift from him to you! Please, you have to let me on board!"

Dekkal sighed. One of Marcus' lackeys. He didn't know what it was the deranged noble wanted out of this, but it couldn't be good. Not at all. Relations were strained after Commissar Selka had been put down after being compromised on Trisburg: Marcus hadn't been told. Dekkal wondered when the Fairfaxes would leave this curse system. Thus far, it had only brought them death and sadness. He spoke to the hauler again.

"I'm sorry, but we're in a compromised state right now. We are not in a position to let you on board, let alone trade resources. I apologise, but this is a direct order from Lord Fairfax himself."

There was a pause as the pilot of the hauler considered his answer.

"My captain, you know what would happen if my Lord Governor was delayed in this transaction. Think of what would happen to your lords and their precious reputation, turning down fellow traders. Think of what would happen to me. My lord's wrath is fierce."

The feat in his voice was unmistakable. Dekkal opened his mouth to let the hauler in, but he continued to babble on.

"I'd hate to end up like your Commissar friend."

Dekkal paused. How would this trader know what had happened to Selka? All data surrounding it had been kept silent on board the Sovereign. Unless...

"Hauler 1-6-4-9-0, repeat your previous statement. What do you know about Commissar Selka?"

There was a crackle of static, and Dekkal swore he heard a sharp intake of breath from the other side of the vox. Another voice, deeper and gruffer, spoke.

"They know. Jek you, they know. Ramming speed, now!"

Dekkal began raising the alarm, but it was too late. The hauler shot ahead, already too close for the vessel's self defence batteries to react, and breached through the Reforged Sovereign's lower hull.

------------------

"Captain Dekkal. Report. Now." Fairfax sat slumped in his chair, his head in his hands.

"I'm sorry, I-"

"Dekkal, please tell me everything. The commissar will not know. You're safe. Just tell me what happened."

"They breached level 21. Self sealing insertion, so there was no decompression. There was no cargo on that hauler. Armed men, with shotguns and riot shields."
Dekkal swallowed nervously.
"Thirty casualties. That was enough to send what was left of our armsmen falling back. The rest of our men couldn't get down to suppress them. We managed to capture one, but- well- he took a pill of some kind. Ruptured his stomach, and burned him from the inside out. They- They didn't take anything. Anything except the tapestry. They left as soon as they got it. Emperor knows why."
His breathing was shaky.
"Thirty people for a tapestry..."

Fairfax gaped at Dekkal. The Captain's lower lip was trembling.

"You said we captured one. Do we have any identification?"

"It's uniform was unmarked. But- But I sent for a blood analysis of the man. I'm not sure when it'll come-"

A figure in a white lab coat burst through the door, before halting and stopping awkwardly.

"It's a match, sir!"

Fairfax stood up. "What is?"

"The blood sample. We've seen it before! One of the guards the Trisburg governor sent up to us. The blood sample is identical. IDs as a Jon Cramus. O Negative, slight systems of Type 1 diabetes. That's our guy."

Dekkal looked at Fairfax, his eyes glistening. The incident had shaken up the captain.
"What can this mean, my lord?"

The attendant piped up again, this time losing all their bravado and squeaking at Fairfax.
"There was something else, my lord. A distress call, from the Lord Governor of Trisburg. There's no details, just some ramblings about a guy called Marcus being scared, hating the smell of urine, and begging for someone to stop the "mean people" in the streets. He seems... afraid. He seems very afraid."

Dekkal kept his eyes on Fairfax as he fiddled with a button on his uniform.

Fairfax gritted his teeth.
"Ready your men, Captain."

Back on Brackus.

Captain Kassani felt the cold sting of Captain Aurelius’s paragon blade pierced through his stomach. The burn of the bile made the blade feel like a paper cut. Kassani slowly rose to his feet while Sheppard was speaking to the wounded Pavus. Kassani raised his las pistol at the commissar but his wrist was caught by a carapace clad hand. Kael Norra Kassani’s second spoke in a whisper “We have to flee.” Kassani nodded and put his arm around her for support. They slunk away without any noticing they had gone, until they were long out of reach.

Later at the 44th camp

Kassani screamed as the medic dressed his wounds. He shouted “You fething amateur.” The surgeon was clearly nervous as Kassani had refused both anesthesia and refused to relinquish his las pistol. The medic stammered “I’m sorry, this would be a lot easier if you would stop squirming.” Kassani growled “I wouldn’t be fething squirming if you knew how to do your fething job.” Kael put her hand on Kassani’s shoulder “Easy sir.” The old mercenary growled.

Hours pass before the medic finishes the last of his treatments. The captains stomach was all but replaced, but he lived. Kassani stumbled out of the medical tent, all around all that could be heard was the sound of festivity. Every man of Faust, and likely every other guardsman was glad to be alive. Kassani festered in the cold night in his anger keeping him warm. He looked off into the distance and saw a banner planted atop a hill bearing the sigil of the second company of Ultramarines, Kassani spat. Aurelius made a fool of him, slayed his only friend, killed his last patron, and now had nearly killed him. He had to pay, kassani shouted “Norra get the men ready, we have work to do.”

Aboard the wrath of Faust

Commissar Sheppard sat at the former Lord Governor’s desk. In front of him stood the weeping Ruck, Hannibal’s ogryn bodyguard, “I couldn’t help mister Pavus I’m a bad bodyguard.” Sheppard spoke sympathetically as if he were talking to a child “Its not your fault Ruck Hannibal did some bad things, he died because of those bad things. There was nothing you could do, you’re a good guy Ruck.” The massive human wiped a huge glob of snot away and spoke “Thank you fancy hat man, you make Ruck feel better.” “Thank you Ruck. Are you hungry.” The brute smiled and spoke “Yeah Ruck hungry.” “Go get some food Ruck it will make you feel better.” The ogryn smiled and turned and left the room stomping off to the kitchen.

Sheppard went through Pavus's possessions and found all manner of things of intrigue. Proof of his crimes against him and other members of the crusade, Letters from his brother Marcus, mostly just ramblings about some tapestry, but perhaps most intriguing of all was Pavus’s map of the new Faustian empire, he planned to assert his rule upon every world he came across, he had even already planned which members of the Pavus family and their most loyal supporters would be given their own governorship. Sheppard looked at his cap on the desk as the door to Pavus’s old room opened. Petra stepped in holding a clip board she spoke “Hello my new lord commander.” Sheppard grinned “Where’s Lilianna.” “Asleep. In my old quarters, its good to be back.” Sheppard smiled “It is.” Sheppard’s face turned to a frown “I can’t be in charge of the Faustian forces.” Petra laughed “And why is that.” Sheppard was still serious “I’m a Commissar, I am only disciplinarian not qualified to lead anything more than a single regiment of soldiers.” Petra restrained laughing out right but spoke still grinning “And what qualifications are those.” “Qualifications like rank and authorization.” Petra put her hands to Sheppard’s shoulders “The men want to follow you, so they will. They will obey you like they would no one else. When they look to you they do not see Sheppard the Commissar. They see Sheppard the champion of the grand Tourney, Sheppard the soldier who lived through the hell of Gallor Prime, Sheppard the man who braved the fury of the deep. But too me you are only Jack, husband, father of our child, and occasional charming rogue.” Sheppard smiled “There will be dissension.” “There’s always dissension. But the naysayers will bow.” Sheppard arose and embraced Petra. The Knight Captain whispered seductively “You know the babe is asleep and Hannibal’s desk does seem… cozy.” Sheppard grinned “I can hardly resist the temptation but I’m afraid our victory dance will have to wait, Captain Aurelius wishes to release Captain Braddock into my custody” Petra spoke in a voice of fake woundedness “You would choose that smelly hound over your own wife? Fine but do hurry back.” Sheppard smiled “You’ll never know I was gone.”

Aboard the Valins Revenge

Captain Braddock sat on the floor in the windowless hold. His beard ragged and unkempt. He had not the slightest idea how long he’d been here, his only method of keeping track of the passage was his daily meal. The former knight looked up as his cell door opened. The light that entered his poorly lit prison was blinding at first but soon enough he regained his vision and saw Commissar Sheppard standing over him. The Hound spoke “Did Pavus send you.” Sheppard spoke “I killed him.” The hound rested his head against his cell wall and spoke “I see. You here to kill me.” Sheppard shook his head “No, I’ve taken command of the Faustian companies, and I need your support many in the first company want to rebel in revenge for Pavus. It is my hope that you can wrangle the troops back into line. In return for your help I’ll restore your rank.” The hound looked down “I served Pavus for the last thirty years. Had it not been for him Tennyson would have hung me long ago. Pavus was piece of gak, but I owed him. Now here I am again indentured to another.” Sheppard spoke “You owe me nothing, you are a good man Braddock, you were only following your governor's orders" Braddock arose even in his motley state he was an intimidating presence. Captain Braddock spoke “I will need my war gear.” “Aurelius has always already given it to me.” The Hound nodded and exited the cell.

[Trisburg wrap-up 1 of 2]

Captain Dekkal stared at Fairfax, "You wish to rescue these people? Him? After what they did to us?"
His Lord Captain placed a hand on his shoulder, "We are a civilian vessel, Eamon. And we don't forget those who cannot protect themselves. Some of the guard down there may be compromised, but the population at large may be innocent. We cannot leave them to die."
"But the call to the crusade?" Dekkal asked, wondering, "If we miss the call to arms, we will be branded traitors."
Fairfax smiled, "I only need a day. Trust me. Raise my brother from his widower's nest, we can turn this around."

*

In his bunk, Edward lay staring at the ceiling, his vox piece flashing beside him. He idly picked it up, the surge of worry that the last call had brought him began to resurface.
"Seneschal here."
"S-Seneschal, we finally have results from Commissar Selka's blood tests. The contaminant was... It wasn't xeno. We were looking too far from the source. It was farm animal and rust, sir. Somebody assaulted him with a metal object to fake an infection site."
Edward pulled the vox from his ear, and felt the world fall out from underneath him. He couldn't weep, hadn't. He didn't know what to feel.

The door slid open.
"Ed, we're going planetside. Your brother wants you there." Dekkal stooped to gently lift Edward from his bunk by the elbow.
The Seneschal nodded, "I'll be there, yes. I just need to collect something first."
"You'll be okay?" Eamon helped the taller man to his feet, noticing the leaden weight to him.
"I will be." Edward nodded, and headed out of the door.
Dekkal watched him turn down the corridor towards the barracks, away from the docking bays, and wondered what the young man had planned.

*

The fight to reach the governor's home was brief and brutal. The Sovereign's forces were able to drop into the grounds easily from the Valkyries, and the disorganised rabble of cultists was quickly dealt with.
The guard set up a perimeter quickly, with Dekkal coordinating them. He understood sieges all too well.
"Nobody is to leave. Trisburg is in chaos, we do not have the forces at our disposal to deal with a large scale riot," Fairfax voxed over the guards' channel, "we await reinforcements." He prayed that his request had been met. If not, they could soon be outnumbered.

The smaller Arvus shuttle landed, and Fairfax, Edward and a trio of heavily armed guard disembarked, heading into the building. As well as a sheathed powersword, Fairfax was carrying a simple but powerful shotgun of his own. The edges well worn, and the strapping fitted the contours of his body seamlessly. Edward carried a small satchel, but no visible weaponry.
Thankfully the security detail had been just enough to keep the cultists from the building, though had actual genestealers approached, Fairfax had no doubts that there would be no governor left to rescue.

As they approached the main doors, Edward pulled out a small keypad and within seconds, had unlocked the seemingly solid bolts.
Fairfax would have been impressed, could he have spared the time, "Take down anyone that gets within six feet of us, bar the governor himself." he ordered, no bloodlust in him, just weariness.
The guards kicked open the doors, as from outside the thrumming of far larger engines could be heard on the horizon. The guards barely noticed, but Fairfax caught the sound, and his heart was lifted slightly. They got my signal, they came.
He didn't have time to turn, as a figure approached them from behind a desk.
"Lord Captain! Emperor be praised, you came for us!" the secretary rushed forward.
Reynard raised his shotgun barrel to face level, "Stay back. We didn't come for you. You will all be seen to in time."
The woman slowed, but continued in her approach.
"I said stay back, woman. I do not give warnings." Faurfax snarled and closed his grip on the trigger.
"But we have done nothing! We were in here all along." she ignored his demand.
The surprise had no time to register on her face as he fired.
"You were, weren't you." Reynard growled as he stepped past the corpse.
The remaining staff huddled behind cabinets and desks, edging away from the group where they could.

From inside the governor's office came the sounds of panic, and guard mobilising.
The coward took all of his guard to his own room. Reynard grit his teeth.
"Governor! We have come to extricate you from the Xenos threat!" Fairfax barked, "However any plans of assaulting us and taking our transport end right now. If your guard do not come out of your room and surrender their weapons immediately, my troops have orders to seal the doors and firebomb this building."
The three guard looked sideways at their lord captain. This was news to them. Though not entirely unexpected.

The door cracked open, and six guardsmen slowly emerged, one at a time, and placed their weaponry on the marble flooring, before stepping back.
Fairfax nodded respectfully, and then seized the nearest guard by the collar, holding the smooth shotgun barrel beneath his jaw, "How many still inside?"
"T-two sir," the guard caught sight of the corpse by the doorway, "oh god-emperor-"
Fairfax released his grip and shoved the man back to his comrades, before firing into the ceiling. At no point did his stop staring into the trooper's eyes. A satisfying dark stain appeared rapidly across the front of the young man's trousers, though it was doubtful he himself noticed.
"Ed, lads, stay here, if any of them move, shoot them." he stepped into the office.

Marcus was sat behind his desk, the strong smell of sweat and something less pleasant, the only indication it was anything but a normal day for him.
"I said to send out your guard, Governor," Fairfax spoke quietly, "I don't think you grasp the severity of this situation." he stepped slowly to the desk, well aware of the two men hiding rather poorly behind a drinks cupboard.
"I do not take orders from pirates." Marcus spat.

The Lord Captain began to laugh., "You are a traitor," Fairfax stared into Marcus' mad eyes, "A murderer. And your planet is in ruins due to your own ignorance. It is well within my rights to kill you." He levelled the dark gun at the governor's head, "But I won't." he shook his head and stepped back.

Marcus cackled, "All talk, no trous-" he did not get to finish his sentence, the bolt shell roared across the room, and redecorated the nearest tapestry with his brain matter.
As the governor's body slumped over onto his desk, pouring thick blood across the surface, Fairfax continued speaking to the room in general, "I did not guarantee anyone else in my company would feel similarly."
Edward's face was a mask of cold anger as he slowly lowered the borrowed pistol. He turned and swiftly exited the room, as the stunned Trisburg guards looked at one another for confirmation.

"Your governor was found to be harbouring Xenos infected humans, and deliberately obstructed agents of the Imperium in their investigation," a calm, female voice suddenly spoke from just inside the doorway, "what happens now is up to you. I would suggest returning to your homes and allowing the Imperial hierarchy to fight over the scraps. We are leaving. Impede that, and you will find yourself at the short end of Inquisitorial scrutiny."
Fairfax straightened up, having retrieved several files from Marcus' desk, and smiled, "Honoured that you could finally join us, Inquisitor Brogue."
She stood, her ornate but business-like armor glinting beneath a pale face and coal black eyes, "You know that I can seldom make personal appearances, Reynard."
Fairfax bowed, "I understand."
The remaining guards quickly fled the room, without looking back.

[part 2 of 2]

The pair had counted on the guards fleeing.
Had the men glanced back into the chamber, however, they would have seen no blood, no corpse. Just the lord captain lean over to the collapsed Marcus, grip his shoulder, and speak.

Marcus woke up slowly, face down on his own desk. He blinked. That impertinent pirate had dared tell him that he was a traitor. Him! Then that woman had interrupted him!
He sat up, about to let loose with a string of vitriol, and found himself looking into the dark eyes and tight lipped smile of Inquisitor Brogue.
He also found that despite his fury, he couldn't speak.
"I think we've had enough from you for one day, Marcus. Get up."
A firm hand dragged him from his seat, and onto his feet, he cast his eyes up to find Fairfax calmly holding his collar in one hand, a neat pile of his files in the other. His files! He narrowed his eyes. At least they won't find the ones stashed in the skirting board, he allowed himself a small smirk.
Brogue turned her head as he did so, and stepped over to the nearby wall. There she kicked the skirting board, and as it came loose, retrieved his bundle of papers and files. No! She must be a witch. A witch sent to- She turned her head and stared him directly in the eyes, and he found his mind at peace.

"Put him on the shuttle. Or don't. Do what you wish with him. We have what we need, if indeed any of it is useful," Brogue carefully took the files from Fairfax, and added them to the pile she had retrieved, "our priority is tracking where Trisburg guard were shipped to. But as a personal favour to you, we will put down this rebellion, and we will keep civilian casualties to a minimum."
"I will take him. I need to make amends with Edward, l it will help him to see that he has not truly killed," Reynard nodded, "plus, I am after all, a trader of information as well as goods. Some insight as to what is going on across sector in exchange for a quiet exit and no disgrace. Sounds fair to me."
"I doubt many care about such a turd." Brogue smiled.
"True, but some quite likely care about what's in here." Fairfax gently tapped the stunned Marcus on the head.
"Consider us even, Reynard." Brogue smiled tiredly.

"I could never," he bowed with a sincere look of admiration, and without her realising, had taken her hand, "I am after all, only a sanctioned pirate." he gently squeezed her palm and released it with a wink. He stepped from the room, dragging Marcus by the collar. Had he turned, he'd have seen Brogue looking deeply infuriated at her own inability to keep the blush from burning her cheeks as she followed. He grinned to himself, knowing it was there anyway.

Edward and the guard had gone, as had the Arvus. Reynard continued dragging Marcus, the illusion still in place, until in the back of the grounds they reached a smaller shuttle. Tossing the stunned governor into the cargo compartment, he climbed into the pilot's seat and set off back to the Reforged Sovereign.
As he left the atmosphere, a message appeared across a monitor beside him.

+++ \\\ OFFER STANDS: CONSIDER IT \\\ +++

*

Edward walked like a spectre through the halls and corridors of the Sovereign. His hand still gripping the pistol he had taken from Garth's things. Nobody stopped his progress as he silently returned to his cabin. They didn't dare.

*

From his bunk, Dekkal heard his troops muttering about the Seneschal having stolen a gun and killed the Governor down below. He closed his eyes and shook his head. The day had enough tragedy without Edward losing himself as well. He rolled over and sat up, uncertain how to help. After a long consideration, he lay back down. Sometimes looking after yourself first was the best way to assist others, and right now he was both numb and tired, unsure if he could rest, but he would try.

*

Edward continued his dazed path, stepped into his room, and slumped unseeing onto the bed. He finally released the grip of the bolt pistol, and wondered if he too, could sleep.
"I don't remember you asking to borrow that."
The Seneschal nearly jumped out of his skin, and his head collided with the bedside table as he scrambled to right himself.
Garth was sat on the foot of his bed, dressed in his civvies and smiling tiredly.

"I've gone mad. The governor's insanity has finally spread." Edward put both hands to his head and clenched them, covering his eyes, and starting to shake. It was too much. He'd clearly cracked from the pressure of the day, and now his mind was punishing him for having killed Marcus.

"Woah now," Garth quickly stood and crossed to the seneschal's side, "you're fine, you're fine." he carefully pulled Edward's hands from his face and tilted his head to try and catch his gaze, "I'm fine."
"You're dead!" Edward refused to open his eyes, "I saw your body!"
Selka was insistent, "What? I'm not dead. I'd know," he kept his slight grip in place, "Ed, please. I've been waiting to see you all day-"
"No, this isn't real!" Edward pulled his arms free and stepped back, his eyes now open, and red beneath the tiredness. His body was shaking involuntarily, and his face was blanched, "Leave me alone, for Terra's sake!"

Garth furrowed his brow, he didn't understand this reaction. He'd spent most of the day bored out of his skull, waiting to celebrate this evening and return to work tomorrow, and now the only person he'd really given a damn about seeing was having a hysterical episode.
He sighed quietly, "Ed, I don't know what's happened," he stepped closer, "but please, don't send me away." he reached out and held Edward's shoulders, feeling them tense and shaking, and pulled him into a hug, resting the seneschal's head against his own, "I'm not dead."
Edward froze in confusion, staring blankly at the wall, his arms hanging loosely by his sides, unable to fathom what was happening. This felt real, the hug, the warmth, the faint smell of smokes and gunpowder that seemed to permeate Garth's existence.
He raised his arms uncertainly, and then embraced him in return, "If this isn't real, then it is a cruel apparition." he murmured.
"Could an apparition do this?" Garth shifted his head back with an embarrassed half-smile, and the leaned in, doing what he'd been waiting for all afternoon.
Through half closed eyes, Edward had no choice but to silently concede it could not.

*

A rap at the door broke the moment, though neither Garth nor Edward could have told you how long it had been since it began.
"Eddie?" the door slid open, and Fairfax stood there, out of breath, and leaning on the frame, before he caught sight of what he was interrupting, "Oh, thank Terra. Look, you need to know-"
Garth untangled himself from his seneschal, anger taking place of confusion, and embarrassment, and rounded on the lord captain, "What did you do? Why did Ed think I was dead? And- and what causes you to come running up here and not use your fething vox?" he snarled, both angry and deeply embarrassed.

Fairfax raised both hands, "You have every right to be angry with me, but please, let me speak."
Edward felt a cannonball of emotions hit him at once. Rey could see Garth, that means Garth wasn't dead. He wasn't dreaming, or mad. His heart lifted at the realisation.
It plummeted again. He had killed Marcus, and that vindicated rage suddenly faded to panic, causing his gut to lurch. The repercussions of murdering a governor would likely cost House Fairfax their reputation, if the news only spread locally. Further, and it could cause them to lose many trading partners.

"I told Edward that you had been destroyed along with the Trisburg guards. That Marcus's plan to have us kill you had succeeded. And so when we returned to collect final regimental records from Trisburg, he took your boltpistol," Fairfax spoke calmly, but not so slowly that he could be interrupted, "he then believed that he shot the governor dead over his hand in your apparent needless death." the lord captain looked miserable.
Garth's eyes opened in shock, "He killed Marcus?"
"In appearance only," Fairfax raised his hands, "he missed entirely, the result was a psychic projection."

Edward stared at his brother, his face unreadable, "Why?" for the first time since learning of Garth's death, he felt tears forming in his eyes, grief outstripped by betrayal, "Why would you let me believe any of this?"
"Eddie, it was wrong of me. I can't ask you to forgive me for that," Fairfax was clearly just as distraught, "but we needed everyone to be convinced that Marcus was dead. A psyker cast an illusion on the room. What you saw and heard, it didn't really happen."
"And why did you let me believe Garth was dead?" Edward stepped forward, the betrayal turning back to anger.
"Because I am an idiot," Reynard hung his head, his shoulders defeated, "I thought that your anger at the governor was useful. Something that fitted into the plan. I didn't stop to think how much it would hurt you." He bowed his head, his expression miserable, "I'm sorry. I spend all my time trying to protect you, and then I do this."

"It's over, now."
Both brothers turned their heads to look at Selka.
He stood looking thoughtful, but calm, "You were thoughtless, but your intentions were not selfish. They were to save more people from pain by removing Marcus," he extended his hand to Fairfax, "no hard feelings."
Reynard looked alarmed, and then gripped his hand, skillfully pulling the commissar into a bear hug, "I'm not going to offer you a tenth of the hospitality my brother does, but I think we can dispense the formalities, Garth." he laughed with relief.
"And I wouldn't want it, I know where you've been!" Garth pushed him away and pretended to brush down his clothes with a wink.

Edward was still stood looking downcast, staying silent.
"Ed-" Fairfax stepped towards him, his expression deeply apologetic, and his arms low and offering the same hug he had to Garth.
"Not today," the seneschal gently placed his hand on his brother's shoulder, blocking him, "I forgive you, but I think I need time. To rest."
Fairfax nodded, "Understood." he turned and bid his brother farewell, before slipping out of the room.
Edward turned, addressing Garth quietly, "You probably think me cold, to turn him away."
Selka shook his head, "No, you didn't let him sway you. You never let him off easy; it's why I like you."
The Seneschal smiled tiredly, "I'm glad one of us does right now. I wasn't joking about needing that rest." he slowly sat back down on his bed and began to stretch out.

The commissar nodded, "I understand. You know where I am."
"I do. But nobody else does. You should let them know as well! Eamon, your men, they need to know." Edward allowed a small smile.
"Throne, you're right!" Garth covered his mouth in embarrassment, "I should go." he inclined his head, "Should I?"
Edward chuckled, his eyes closing, "Sometimes I think you make a better watchdog than you do a commissar."
"Mayhaps." Garth stretched out on the nearby sofa and closed his eyes similarly.

High over the orbit of Grimdi, the Imperial fleet limped into position. The assault on Brackus had left many ships damaged and acid-burned, and had claimed a similar effect on it's men and women. The entire Crusade was weary with sorrow and fatigue, following the death of General Hannibal Pavus, and the departure of Lord Marshall Karak's weary Black Templars. The Faustians had been affected most of all.

Lord General Zonand opened the comm-link to the other Imperial strikeforces, and reviewed his forces. There were all the standard faces: Colonel Detta, Acting-Captain Aurelius, Captain Julius, Strike Commander Ajuran and Tempestor Prime Gallus. A few new faces replaced the old ones he'd grown so used to seeing. Reynard Fairfax; the rogue trader, Acting-Colonel Nasira; taking command whilst Colonel Amir prepared his medical treatment, Codicier Saren; the Ultramarine Librarian, and Commissar Sheppard. Zonand was glad to see Sheppard where once Pavus sat, and nodded his approval. He stiffened up, and prepared his rally. His voice boomed out of speakers across all ships.

"Soldiers of the Imperium and the Charadon Crusade. We have emerged victorious from the jaws of the deep. Yet we return not to the light of our glorious empire, but to the flames of subversion, heresy and Chaos. Warsmith Archarus has taken his craven tail from between his legs and struck our heartland from behind our backs. Their ranks are made up of all that we hold abhorrent: hordes of greenskin abominations, legions of fallen Iron Warriors, and our once-loyal brethren of the Fallen Order. We few, we precious few, stand between these traitors and the rest of the Imperium. We will not give them another inch of land. What didn't kill us only made us stronger. Archarus will find out soon enough.
Who will stand with me and reclaim what is yours?"

Zonand's voice was drowned out by the deafening cheers of the arrayed Imperial personnel. Indeed, historians still teach about how the cheers could be heard outside the ships' hulls.

-----------------------------------

The arrayed ships began to advance to Grimdi, their froststeel hulls piercing the cold void. Archarus' daemonic eyes gazed up into the skies, and his toothy visage split his unreal red flesh. Warbosses Nox and Narlug followed the Daemon Prince's stare, but Archarus was sure that their beady red eyes couldn't see the ships that had just appeared in orbit. Even the sensors on Archarus' defence batteries couldn't pick up the countless Frigates, Cruisers and Battle Barges inbound.

"Defence batteries, fire at will. Bring the loyalist dogs crashing down to our level. Make them bleed and burn!"

His command was heralded by the clarion call of defence lasers and macrocannon shells ripping open the writhing sky, their immense bombardment tearing the heavens asunder.

"Narlug, your greenskins are to be deployed on the front lines, with my warband. You will stand and fight, or suffer my wrath. Nox, I'm holding your bikers in reserve, to attack from the flanks. Do not disappoint me."

He turned to one of his subordinates.

"Contact our friend. Tell him it is time to break their ranks, and let them be shattered by Iron."

-----------------------------------

"Drop pods away! Cease the bombardment, and put all power to shields!"

Captain Kessel Antonius the Third dabbed his brow, as his grey eyes scanned the tactical readouts. The 'Seventh Star', like so many of the Imperial Navy vessels, had been saturating the Iron Warriors fortress with all manner of high-explosive rounds, gifted to the Imperial units by Trader Captain Fairfax, who was assisting the fleet action. Kessel had been apprehensive, but not any more. The special shells had reported to have huge damage against the Warp-touched defences, tearing them down. Only the inner defences remained, the ebony shaft of the inner keep towering above the shattered ruins. Now, it was time for the infantry to deploy. Kessel never understood why men were strictly needed, but it was the Lord General's orders. No-one disobeyed the Lord General. Not on the 'Seventh Star'.

He was about to bark at the crew to begin to pull away from the punishing ground bombardment, and begin repairs, when he turned his attention to the close-range scanners. Multiple fighters, and starships, bearing down on the 'Seventh Star'. Their crescent shaped hulls betrayed their origin immediately.

"Necrons! Necron fighters, engaging the fleet! Prepare for impact!"

The first of the Jackals and Dirges slammed into the hull of the 'Seventh Star's hull, followed by many more. Immediately, sections were jettisoned into the void, and red hazard lights lit up the bridge. Kessel turned to the miniature shrine to the Emperor by his command throne. For Captain Kessel Antonius the Third, there was no retreat. Only service. Service and death. A Dirge smashed into the bridge.

The 'Seventh Star' died in silence, shedding layers upon layers of adamantium plates and bulwark, as it fell prey to the ravenous swarms of Necron ships. It was the first to fall, and wouldn't be the last.

-----------------------------------

Phaeron Kageros would have been smiling, if his mechanical face still possessed muscles. His alliance with the Iron Warrior was proving a fatal combination. Wave after wave of Jackal and Dirge class fighters swarmed the Imperial vessels, the sleek swift fangs of the Kageros armada sinking into the crude human ships. Already, several ships had fallen, their carcasses pumping fire into the cold void.

Kageros idly smoothed out his cloak. Something just felt... incomplete. His stripped hands fumbled around, searching for something that wasn't quite there. His emerald eyes glassed over as he turned to face his awaiting subordinates. Rak'than spoke to his liege.

"We are making progress. But our reserves of Jackals and Dirges are almost depleted. We seem to have identified a command vessel. It's resisting all attacks on it. Should we focus fire on it?"

Kageros grinned. Finally, worthy prey. The metaphorical cogs in his head finally fitted together.

"Give me my warscythe. I've got an urge to crash something big. The biggest thing we have."

Grulahk knelt before Kageros.
"Phaeron, it would be my honour to accompany you on this."

"So be it. Assemble your Lychguard."

The mighty engines of the Arbalest of Extinction fired into life, and loomed towards the Imperial flagship. The futile bombardments of the Imperial fleet turned away from the dwindling Jackals and Dirges, and fired on the Necron command ship. Fiery explosions rippled over it's hull, momentarily wreathing it in a cloak of flame. It's hull emerged unscathed and unmarked. Kageros laughed as the ship carried on it's irresistible warpath.

-----------------------------------

Lord General Zonand paced up and down, watching the reports come in. The Imperial Navy has suffered huge casualties from the suicidal Necron bombers, using breached containment fields to tear huge chunks out of realspace, and the Navy vessels. The mothership of the Necron fleet hung back, controlling the mindless automata.

On the ground, the Astartes had set up a rudimentary landing post, and paved the way with the corpses of countless Ork and Chaos Space Marines. The ground command had been delegated to Julius, as the ranking Imperial commander since Karak's absence. The Ultramarine had committed the Tallarn to an outflanking reserve, led by Amir, at the man's own stubborn insistence. The Scions and Cadians hung back, and took out priority targets as identified by the Astartes and Faustians. The Charidian Guard and Forsian 7th and 11th had been wiped out by the Chaos Space Marines, leaving the bulk of the advancing forces pinned down in the fortress ruins. Aurelius and Sheppard commanded the defence against waves of Ork and Fallen Order traitors, and a late arrival from the Death Ravens had given the Imperials much needed momentum, but Julius had mentioned how their munitions and morale were growing thin, and they were beginning to lose ground at an alarming rate.

Zonand gripped his hair in frustration, and resigned himself to commanding the void war from his flagship, the 'Crios'. Another three vessels had gone down. No, wait. Four. But the tidal wave of Necron fighters was slowing. Zonand began to feel a sense of smug achievement. His relief was short lasted.

The main Necron ship, the largest one in the whole fleet, began to move. It's powerful engines began to propel it forward. Zonand realised with horrific certainly what the Necrons were doing. A ramming action. In space.

"All ships! Fire on the big ship! Bring it down!"

The massive guns of the entire Charadon sector navy levelled onto the vast ship, and let loose. It was useless. Zonand gritted his teeth. If the Necrons used their ships as battering rams, so would Zonand.

"Ram it! For the love of the God-Emperor, ram that thing now!"

The closest ships gunned their engines, already damaged and smoking from collisions with Necron fighters. Zonand noted that the some of the Histans were on those ships. If they didn't make it, they would die heroes. Zonand made note to honour their bravery. Nervously, he contorted his mouth, and turned away from the battle.

-----------------------------------

"++Ram it! For the love of the God-Emperor, ram it!++"

The bridge of the 'Reforged Sovereign' fell silent, save for the bleeping of cogitator banks. The words of the Lord General hung in Reynard Fairfax's ears.

He had already handed out his supply of enhanced shells and laser capacitors to the Imperial fleet, in the hope of contributing to the war effort. But the surprise attack from the Necron armada had caught the entire fleet off guard, let alone the rogue trader's vessels. So far, they had been holding their own, with experienced crewmen shooting down the crescent shaped fighters before they could crash into the ancient hulls of the ships. Fairfax once again praised the excellence drilling skills of both Selka and the Histan refugees he had taken aboard. But it was only a matter of time until-

"Master Fairfax, orders!"
Captain Dekkal stood a few feet away from Reynard. His cap was off, soaked with nervous sweat. "Shall I prepare a ramming procedure?"

"Rey, you can't be serious." Edward interjected, rising to his feet. "There are people on this ship! Innocent, peaceful people! We can't risk their lives like this."

"Seneschal, much as I respect your view, this is a battle. You have no power now. We are in a BATTLE. There is always collateral damage."

Edward stammered, and his face turned red. "COLLATERAL DAMAGE?! Did you just compare the deaths of everyone on this ship as collateral damage?! You don't get it. We have no right to ask the men, women and children on this ship to die on one man's orders! You can't ask them to do that... You can't..."

Fairfax groaned. "If we had more time... if we had more time, I'd put this to vote."

"You don't HAVE more time." Dekkal insisted. "Come on, Captain. Take charge, and do what's right. Just do it."

Fairfax watched the god-machine of the Necrons slice through the Imperial battleline, shrugging off titanic ordnance rounds the size of buildings. He watched, through security cameras, the civilians aboard the Sovereign cowering and flinching with every blast of the broadside cannons. He watched the expectant faces of his crew, men who would die for him and follow his every word.
He saw his little brother's face, as sad at it ever was when he was a youth, and felt remorse.

"Captain Dekkal, prepare a vector bearing 270 degrees, following immediate translation to Warp jump." Edward's face lit up, and Dekkal's twisted into disbelief.

"What?! You're going to flee the battle?"

"Not flee. I'm saving everyone on this ship. One of us has to survive this. He has to."

Dekkal sighed, and pulled out his service pistol, and aimed it at Edward. A gasp fell on the bridge. All eyes were on Dekkal.
"Sir, I advise you with all due respect to follow our set orders. We aren't retreating." He cocked the gun.

"We're not retreating." A voice came up from the back of the room. The unmistakable sound of a bolt pistol cocking filled the bridge. "We're saving lives. Such is the will of the Emperor."

Commissar Garth Selka stood in the back of the chamber, worn and haggard, but illuminated oddly. Edward thought he saw the wings of an aquila behind him, and smiled.

"Drop the weapon, Captain Eamon Dekkal. This is a battle: there is always collateral damage."

Dekkal looked at his quivering hand, and threw aside his pistol.
"No… I didn’t mean to… Please forgive me, sir. But don't blame me when the Imperium come after us for deserting."

"We'll be ready, Captain." Fairfax said, letting out a nervous breath. He nodded to Selka, who returned with a weary smile. "Now, Captain. Take us to warp."

As the ship began to move, the comms system lit up. Someone was hailing them.
"Reforged Sovereign, who is this?"

"++The 'Mortis Rex'. This is Captain Ibra, Histan regiment. We can see your translator vector, sir. You're leaving? ++"

Reynard sighed. He had heard a lot about this Captain Ibra, a fearsome fighter in the Histan ranks. Well respected, doggedly loyal, and good at Regicide, if his troops were correct. Ibra had been selected to command the Histan troops deployed throughout the fleet.

"I'm sorry, Ibra. I can't justify-"

"++I understand.++” Fairfax felt relief flood through him. “++I wish you all the best of luck. Us Histans are forever in your debt. Even in death. We'll ram them for you. It'll get you out in one piece.++"

Fairfax smiled, somehow hoping the Histan would survive the collision. With wide eyes, he watched as the 'Mortis Rex' charged into the smooth flank of the Necron vessel. The front of the Rex was like a spear, shattering both it’s own hull and piercing the mothership’s black hull. The vast Necron ship spun away, slowly tilting away from the 'Crios'. Fairfax watched in silence as chunks of both vessels rippled outwards, slicing through the deathly void.

“Dekkal, get us out.”

The viewport twisted as the ship entered the Warp, the fiery red of explosions distorting into blues, and purples, and oranges, and infrared, and ultraviolet, and back into red again.

-----------------------------------

The Arbalest of Extinction lurched violently upwards, throwing Kageros off balance. His court were similarly tossed like ragdolls.

"What happened? Did we hit something?"

Cryptek Chagh stammered as he replied to Kageros.

"T-T-Technically. We've been r-rammed, it seems.”

Rak’than gave a strange, grating laugh. “The humans don't seem to know when to die."

Kageros grinned, beating metallic teeth that glinted in the light of his command consoles. Grulahk returned the gesture, and walked away, his Lychguard retainers following his lead. The Phaeron snapped his fingers, and his own personal Lychguard cohort assembled around him, their expressionless features staring down the assembled lords and overlords. Even amongst the unliving Necrons, the Lychguard inspired dread fear where they walked.

"Teleport us down. Let them know what it means to face the might of the Kageros Dynasty."

-----------------------------------

"Prepare for contact!"

Captain Ibra had his hand on his meltagun. His defending party, made up of Histans and Navy Armsmen alike, had taken the fight to the Necrons, and all hell was about to break loose. Meltaguns had been looted and jury-rigged from the Navy's armouries, flamers mixed with ship-grade propellant, and explosives made up of all types of grenade and shell that the repelling parties could get their hands on. It didn’t matter any more, Ibra thought.

The 'Mortis Rex' was lucky enough to have distracted the Necrons in the first place. The mechanical abominations would suffer for their arrogance. Much to the horror of the ship’s former captain, and some of the Techpriests aboard the ship, Ibra suggested blowing up the Mortis to perhaps damage the Necron ship from within. Of course, they all agreed when the Histan had pulled a few grenades from his pocket and threatened to pull the pins in their faces. Now they were in, they just had to rig the warp core to blow. Not exactly an easy thing to do when the ship is falling to pieces.

Ibra was about to round a corner to the nearest chokepoint, when the man in front of him burst into orange flames. His charred corpse stared up at Ibra with melted eyes.

“They’re already here! Open fire!” Ibra screamed, levelling his meltagun at the Necrons down the corridor. The superheated blast punched the first few off their feet. Seconds later, the containment cores on their alien rifles shattered, blasting them to smithereens. The Histan pulled away from the blast, feeling the heat wash against his back. A tentacled monstrosity glided through the wall next to Ibra. Recoiling in horror, he fired his meltagun point-blank into it’s arachnid visage. Gobbets of molten metal fell over his boots and trousers, searing into his skin. Ibra howled in agony. The serpentine creature fell limp, still halfway phased through the bulkhead. A medic ran to Ibra, and began slicing off the cooling metal. The pain was no excuse for Captain Ibra to stop bellowing orders.

“Watch the walls! We’re not letting a single one of these bastards past this point!”

-----------------------------------

Grulahk swept his hyperphase sword through the torso of the human soldier. Whilst his personal armament of a dispersion shield and hyperphase blade were not standard of Necron nobility, there were undoubtedly effective in these close quarters about the crude human vessel. His perfect form was unmarked, was were those of his Lychguard. Together, they had cleaved a path through the maze of death, leaving a blood slicked trail of shredded corpses in their wake.

Grulahk stopped. His retinue stopped in perfect step, utterly obedient to their lord. Rak’than should have reached this point by now. It had been agreed. They would meet here, and Kageros would teleport to them when they met up. Instead, Grulahk was alone, with no trace of Rak’than to be found. The Necron took a tracking scarab from within the folds of his robes, and let it do it’s work. The small automata whirred in his palm, sensing for Rak’than’s signature. In a matter of seconds the scarab had sprung off his hand, and was burrowing into the bulkhead. Grulahk smirked, and prepared his tachyon arrow. He fired it, letting the miniature warhead streak into the scarab’s tunnel. It remotely detonated nano-seconds later. The blast ripped into the bulkhead, melting and fusing the ferrocrete into a perfectly cylindrical tunnel for Grulahk and his Lychguard. On the other side of the tunnel, Grulahk saw Rak’than.

His sweeping warscythe was finding difficulty in the corridors. His opponent, a human warrior, was easily dodging his swings. Grulahk went to assist his superior, and rid him of this annoyance, his lean mechanical limbs reflecting the glow of his wargear. The duel was even, far more even than it should have been. The human was skilled, that much Grulahk could tell, but Rak’than, a warrior of Kageros Dynasty for millennia? Being matched by a mortal? This was unheard of. Rak’than lashed out at the human, bringing the scythe around in a perfect cleaving swipe. The eldritch scythe kissed the human’s shoulder, slicing off a chunk of armour and flesh. The human recoiled. It’s primal voice grated against Grulahk’s senses.
But something was wrong. Rak’than had not judged his swing properly in the tight corridor: his warsycthe was lodged in the wall. The human didn’t waste a moment, and fired the glowing gun in it’s ape-like hands. Rak’than’s chest blew apart, ripped from his body and sprayed over the walls like paint. What remained of the overlord clattered to the floor, spasming with residual energy.

Grulahk calculated his options. He could charge the pathetic creature, rip it to shreds in honourable close combat. Or it could run away, and hole itself up. Or shoot Grulahk. Grulahk could let the mortal go, and catch it later. But there might not be a later. And Rak’than would not be avenged. Or…
Grulahk hurled his hyperphase sword at the fleeing human. The blade left a trail of arcane light as it streaked through the air, two score metres in length. There was a meaty thud. A dull hiss. A howl of pain. The human was pinned to the bulkhead, Grulahk’s hyperphase sword lodged in it’s chest.

The Necron Lord strutted over to his helpless prey. The soldier tried to raise it’s gun, but Grulahk wrenched it from it’s dying grasp. The human stared into Grulahk’s glowing eyes, and tried to laugh. Flecks of blood splattered over Grulahk’s carapace.

“You’re… too late, xeno.” It weakly spluttered. “We’re g-going down… But you’re all c-c-coming w-with us…”

Grulahk maintained eye contact with the dying human.
“We were here before you were born. We were sleeping when your kind left your pathetic homeworld. We ruled this sector before your species even existed. And we will rule it long after your lifeless corpse is stripped into atoms and creates another star in the sky.”
Grulahk reached out with spindly metal fingers, and with cold force and strength, ripped Captain Ibra’s head and spine from his convulsing body.

-----------------------------------

Kageros met Grulahk in the depths of the human ship. They had bled and fought hard to repel the Necron advance, but Grulahk had fought through to where they had been fighting hardest. A final push, spearheaded by Kageros himself, had slaughtered the Imperials, their blood staining the walls they had been fighting with their backs to. A few still tenuously clung to life. The Triarch Praetorians were moving through the corpses, mercy killing the Histans. Their cries of agony as they were disintegrated pierced the otherwise silence. Both Necron nobles stood in from of a locked blast door.

“So, this is where they were defending?” Kageros asked Grulahk.

“Yes, Phaeron. My knowledge of Imperial vessels is a little rusty, but I’m willing to bet this is a command chamber of some kind?”

“Let’s take a look, shall we?” Kageros said.

He plunged his warscythe into the locked door, and felt the pneumatic locks break under the eldritch scythe edge. It fell open, and the two Necron looked into the chamber. Immediately, a thick cloud of gas oozed out over their feet, and their exoskeletons were coated in a thin layer of water vapour. Pipes and wires all hung from vents in the ceiling, some broken, or others severed and spewing a shower of sparks. The focus of the room was a capsule, spinning and writhing with unknowable energy and power. Both nobles recognised it immediately.

“A Warp core.” Grulahk noted, his voice layered with contempt.

“Correct. It’s been tampered with.” Kageros gestured to a recent weld-mark. “Why?”

“It’s a bomb, my lord.” Grulahk pointed out. “The leader of their short lived resistance said they’d try to take us down with them. This is probably what it was on about.”

“Get Chagh down here. Safely disarm this thing.”

In a matter of minutes, the Cryptek was down in the warp core chamber, and fumbling with the welded panel. Once he had it open, the cryptek peered inside, and it’s unliving eyes widened.

“What is it?” Grulahk said.

“It’s on a timer, counting down.”

“And?”

“We have five seconds until it goes up.”

Grulahk sprang at Kageros, and punched the teleporter pad on his Phaeron’ thigh, getting them back to Voor’han. They felt their atoms disassembling in the teleporter as the warp core began to overload, flooding the chamber in non-existent colours and substances. Chagh grabbed Kageros’ pauldron, and entered the teleportation matrix. They began to ascend from the floor, as the laws of nature were reversed and flipped and turned inside out, upside down and back. The Necrons still on board remained to their protocols, standing stock still as reality was shattered like a fine mirror. The three began to see madness and reality tear itself apart, just before the matrix swallowed them and swept them up through Kageros’ own pocket dimension to his throne-chamber.

The three Necrons looked up at the real-time holographic display of the Arbalest of Extinction, and saw it breaking apart, torn to shreds by the conflict of reality and unreality, shattering the living metal and annihilating all eighty percent of Kageros’ legions that had been aboard the Cairn-class mothership. The holographic display shorted out, leaving the Necrons in darkness. The only lights were of the six points of light of their eyes.

For the first time since his reawakening, the Phaeron of Kageros Dynasty was speechless. His eyes shut in the darkness. As if compensating for his silence, the remainder of his legions still on Voor’han ceased their duties, and let out a horrific, abominable screech of binary that echoed around the entire Tomb World. When Kageros opened them again, his legions were at his feet, kneeling in subservience. Chagh and Grulahk were at the head, their eyes staring back up as his, copied by the ranks upon ranks of Warriors, Immortals, Lychguard and Tomb Blades that called Kageros their Phaeron.

Kageros met their mindless gazes with his own, burning with hatred, and raised his warscythe to the empty ceiling.

-----------------------------------

Captain Kassani strode through the corridor on the 'Wrath of Faust'. A modified Kantrael-pattern shotgun was bouncing off his hip. Kael Norra, his second-in-command, was at his side, toting a long-las. The rest of Kassani’s crew had slugthrowers, lasguns, autorifles, and shotguns. Low velocity weapons, but powerful enough to kill and injure messily. Very few of the Navy armsmen aboard the ship stopped to ask why they were carrying the weapons: most assumed that they were being deployed to repel boarders. After all, many of the Faustian troops that hadn’t been deployed to wipe out Archarus down on Grimdi were stationed on the 'Wrath of Faust' as a garrison. Of course, Kael had smuggled Kassani on board, and no-one seemed to recognise the Cadian admist the chaos of the Necron bombing ships. Just a platoon of guardsmen reacting to a crisis on deck. The truth couldn’t be more different. Kassani reached the entry door to the Wrath’s bridge, and thumbed the entry pad. The door slid open, and Kassani stepped inside.

“Stop! All of you!”

The Cadian fired his shotgun into the air, spraying slug rounds harmlessly across the room. The staff on the bridge froze. A pair of armsmen reached for their shotguns. Kael blasted their heads off, her long-las smoking. The crew ducked under their desks. Their frightened eyes peered up at Kassani, glistening with fear.

“My friends. You are going to be part of something beautiful. The completion of a brave man’s work. A man, who did what was necessary, and stopped by the impotent fools who claim what is our victory, yours and mine. I speak of the late General Pavus, the rightful leader of this crusade. Instead, he lies dead, slain by the usurper Commissar Sheppard, who plays soldier down there, with his man-beasts we call Space Marines. I am a real soldier. I know how wars are won. And this war will not be won without breaking a few eggs. Notably, that egg there.”

He pointed out of the pexi-glass window, and all eyes followed his finger. Debris littered the empty space, shards of either the late 'Mortis Rex', or the Necron Cairn-class it had died to bring down. It’s vast hull drifted away, dead as a skeleton, casting deep, dark shadows over the Imperial fleet. Ships were pulling away from the blast zone, their hulls scored from the debris shower. In the background of the chaotic scene, the battleship 'Crios' hung in the stars. The Lord General’s flagship.

“You want us to shoot at THAT?!” One of the staff cried out, his voice breaking. “You’re a madman!”

“I’m a madman with a gun.” Kassani chuckled. “In fact, I have all the guns. I’m giving you all a choice. You can embrace our next Lord General, whoever he or she is, or die with your old one. As for me, I don’t want power. I just want to see that bastard and all who supported him dead.”

A few of the staff stood up, and removed their caps as a sign of deference to Kassani. Others stared up at them, open mouthed, and furious. The captain of the 'Wrath of Faust' stared back at Kassani, his mouth twisted into a tight slit of defiance.

“Well, some of you is better than what I expected. Your loyalty will be rewarded. As for the rest of you,” Kassani levelled his shotgun at the captain. “You have chosen.”

He squeezed on the trigger, ripping the captain to shreds. The men behind him began firing down the banks of machinery, slaughtering the loyalist crew as the scrambled for safety. Sleeper agents, embedded in the bridge’s crew, pulled out switchblades and pocket knifes, and slit the throats of the crewmen they were hiding next to. By the end, the floor was slick with blood. It had only taken a minute.

Kassani slumped into the captain’s chair, rummaged through the late officer’s jacket, and pulled out a cigar. Clamping it between his teeth, he removed his own beret, and swapped it for the peaked cap of the captain. He grinned as he issued his first orders to his new crew.

“Open private comms with the 'Teutoburg'. Has our friend succeeded in his job?”

There was a pause, a few awful, dreadful seconds as the 'Teutoburg' waited to receive the call. Then, it clicked active.

“This is the 'Wrath of Faust'. Who is responding?” Kassani replied nonchalantly.

“++Sandor Braddock, the Hound. They didn’t take long to persuade.++” Kassani smiled. This was going well. “++Have we got support?++”

“Of course. I already have some of my most loyal agents at the helms of half of the Faustian and Charadon navies. You’d be amazed at how far a veteran’s retirement pay goes.”

“++And of the Astartes vessels? Are we firing at them too?++”

“The oh-so-brave Space Marines will flee or die.” Kassani looked through the window. The Imperial forces were beginning to limp away from the massive explosion of the Necron flagship. They would never expect another attack.

“On my mark, commence bombardment of the Lord General’s flagship.”

-----------------------------------

The guns of the 'Wrath of Faust', the 'Teutoburg', and other ships dotted amongst the Imperial fleet swung their guns inward, lining up for a perfect broadside. Of course, other fleet commanders were too busy focusing on their own dead, or hull breaches to notice.
Until it was too late.
In a devastating volley, the Wrath fired it’s main cannons. The building sized cannons were all trained on a single point: a structural defect, nearly impossible to find, left by the entry of a certain Kroot assassin’s shuttle. Kassani found this weakness, and tore open the 'Crios'. Explosions rippled across and through the battleship, igniting fuel lines and munitions stored within. No sooner had the 'Wrath of Faust’s auto-loaders prepared for the next shot, the guns of the other traitor ships opened up on the 'Crios', and other Imperial vessels. Old rivalries between captains were reignited, as they tore through the confused loyalists, dealing precisely targeted clusters of ordnance and missiles into the unshielded command bridges. The 'Crios' attempted to fire back; it’s massive cannons rendered blind and unable to target friend from foe. The mighty vessels of the Space Marines, ones that hadn’t retreated or had been destroyed by the Necrons, powered down their arms and surrendered, surrounded by Navy vessels. The sons of the Emperor knew when they were outgunned.

All the whilst, Kassani dragged from his cigar and laughed as he finally got his revenge.

On the 'Crios’ bridge, Lord General Kruger Zonand watched with bitter tears rolling down his grizzled face, as his once-victorious fleet fell into confusion, infighting, and betrayal. This was meant to be his triumph, his moment of crowning glory. Instead, even in death, Pavus still sought to spit on Zonand’ creation. The Lord General sighed. His heart felt like a lead weight, tugging through his weary body. He reached up with his augmentic arm, flicked a switch on his bionic eye. He saw the world go dead in that eye. With his last good eye, he saw the last vestige of shielding over his personal quarters flicker down. Even though they were hundreds of miles apart, Zonand could see the smug look on Kassani’s face aboard the 'Wrath of Faust', issuing the final order. The Wrath of Faust indeed.

Kruger Zonand closed his eye, and the world went white, then black.

"Brother down!"

"Frag grenade out!"

"First rank, FIRE! Second rank, FIRE! Third rank-"

"Need more clips down here!"

Captain Julius removed his crested helm, tucking it beneath the crook of his arm. The acrid stench of cordite, blood and dry stone fragments choked his senses, and he spat out a wad of the stuff onto the rocky ground.

The ground battle had been promising. The Histan and Space Marine forces had made good progress from their initial drop insertion, cutting a bloody path into the ruined maze of bunkers, trenches and killing squares. Julius himself had taken huge relish in cutting through squads of New Order traitors, now dubbing themselves the Fallen Order.

He remembered what seemed to be the commander of their detachment, a hulking brute in Cataphractii plate, blasting away at the loyalists from behind the safety of a cadre of warped and twisted Terminators with a pair of plasma blasters. It had slowed the advance of the entire Imperial push, bottling the bulk of the Astartes spearhead and keeping them pinned. Dozens of Histans and Ultramarines had fallen to their relentless firepower. None of that had saved it when a purple and black drop pod descended, crushing the traitor. Strike Commander Ajuran and a team of sternguard veterans tore through the defenceless Cataphractii, as the rest of Julius' men launched theirselves at the Fallen Order. Now, the decapitated skull of the traitor commander stood warning to Archarus, impaled high on the comms array.
If only the comms were up.

So far, no word from orbit to ground had gotten through. Julius suspected witchcraft, although Codicier Saren on the right flank denied any evidence of it. Still, without any support, Julius, Ajuran and Detta would be cut off in the trench sector they had set up in. Munitions were running low. Ajuran had sent forward scouts to sprint into no-man's land and retrieve ammo from the dead: loyalist and traitor alike. Only three of the fifteen scouts sent out made it back. Soon, Julius mused, they would be down to using blades and their fists to take the next trench.

He tried the comms again. Crusade Command was still down. He had tried to raise his own ships, but they didn't respond. The all-clear continued to signal though. Julius switched channel, back to the ground forces. Aurelius and Sheppard's strikeforce had worked together, and torn a front into the Iron Warrior right flank. Julius contacted them first.

"Captain Julius, to Acting-Captain Aurelius? Do you hear me?"

There was a momentary pause, and the vox clicked on. The traces of an Iron Warrior's grunts of pain could be heard, followed by the sound of a power weapon slicing through ceramite. Aurelius' voice followed.

"++I hear, brother. Any word from on high?++" His voice was breathless.

"None. How goes the battle on your end?"

"++We're about four hundred metres out from the exterior of the inner fortress. The commissar is keeping up very well.++"

"How can you be only four hundred away?" Julius laughed. "We're six hundred away, and we had a head-start!"

Aurelius grunted. "++I wouldn't know. But Saren here has had my back too many times for me to count. It's a little worrying...++"

From the trench lines, Julius heard a cry come up. Ajuran yelled out over the din to Julius.

"Orks! Ork assault wave incoming!"

Ajuran's Death Ravens unslung their chainswords, either looted from the dead or already taken. Their bolters were nearly all out of ammunition anyway. Ajuran unsheathed his power sword, and bellowed at the top of his lungs, "For Charys! For the Emperor and the Death Ravens!"

Colonel Detta heeded the Death Raven's words, and barked orders to his men.
"Alright lads, form up on me! Falkon, cover our backs, and don't stop firing over our heads. Fix bayonets, and prepare to give everything you've got! For Hista!"

Julius pulled his helmet back on as he bade Aurelius parting, and strode up to the lip of the trench, beside his Ultramarine brothers. Sure enough, a sea of crudely crafted choppas, leather hide, and tanned green skin swarmed over the broken landscape.

Behind the throng of xenos, a monster towered, dominating the battlefield with a huge bosspole. A pneumatic power klaw hung in one hand, and in the other, shards of welded metal had been fused to form a wickedly spiked sword. Julius' heads-up display recognised the creature instantly - Warboss Narlug. The beast of Novus Regulus. The Ultramarine drew his own blade, and raised it in the air in defiance.
"Courage and honour!"

The sound of last second bolters and lasguns firing was silenced by the onslaught of the feral ork charge.

-----------------------------------

Captain Gisgo looked through his magnoculars over the battlefield. From on top of his Chimera, he could see everything. His Cadian standard-issue flak helmet as hanging from his webbing as he oversaw the current situation. The three prongs of the Imperial Ground Taskforce were clear to see in the fields of broken ruins, hedgerows or barbed wire and strewn corpses.

In the centre, the Charidian Guard and Forsians had been shredded, caught in deadly Iron Warrior artillery fire. Their desiccated corpses were slumped over the broken fortifications, strung up on razor wire, or simply erased. A few stragglers were acting as spotters for the Cadian's artillery, but their combat potential was practically wasted.

The Scion 85th had been deployed alongside them, but their comms had gone dead after a reported encounter with Necron troops. The rest of the Cadian 13th and some of the Histans had mobilised to deal with the Necron threat, and were fighting a losing battle to hold the mechanical legion at bay. Colonel Halter was commanding the defence of the main Imperial landing zone from the Necrons, where the rest of the Cadian artillery, and Captain Gisgo, were. However, no traces of the 85th could be found. It was assumed that they had been wiped out. Another name on the Crusade's roll of honour.

Gisgo's gaze drifted to the right flank. The azure and gold banner of the Ultramarine 2nd and the crossed blades of the Faustians fluttered valiantly through the trenches. That would be Acting-Captain Aurelius and Commissar Sheppard's team. As of Sheppard's last report, they had met strong resistance of Iron Warrior Astartes. Losses were lower than normal, which the Faustian attributed to Codicier Saren. Something about the Librarian seemed to affect the traitors profoundly. Gisgo made a mental note to stay close to the Librarian if the Iron Warriors counter-attacked.

On the left flank, Captain Julius, Strike Commander Ajuran, Colonel Detta and their forces had torn through the vanguard of the Fallen Order. However, their position was being swarmed by Orks. Gisgo watched as the feral tide of the beasts stormed the trench. Where once two battlelines had been present, a swirling melee took it's place. Every so often, a blue or purple figure would emerge from the tide, or a squad of guardsmen would unleash a lethal volley. They were swallowed back up in seconds. The Cadian gave a swift prayer to the God-Emperor. Space Marines were powerful, near godly in their skills, but Gisgo had seen many fall in this Crusade, let alone in his twenty-two years of service.

From behind Gisgo, a voice called his name.
"Captain Gisgo, is it?"

He tore his eyes from the unfolding battle. A squad of Scions, 85th Battalion, were approaching his Chimera. The one at their head wore a beret, and a smug grin. His markings pointed him out as a Tempestor, a Tempestor Prime by the look of it. A deactivated power fist hung by his side.

"Aye. Captain of 5th Company, Artillery, Earthsplitters. You?"

"Tempestor Prime Gallus." the man declared. "We've got firing orders for your artillery."

"I'm sorry? We thought you'd been wiped out by Necrons. And you come here demanding a firing solution?"

Gallus grinned. "Well, here we are. I wouldn't invite anyone to mess with the 85th. Anyway, I would really appreciate a firing solution on the left flank. Coordinates 85-25-01."

Gisgo consulted his map, and then his magnoculars.
"You sure about that firing order? 'Cos that's right on where Julius' men are-"

"Absolutely sure. Orders from Crusade Command itself."

Gisgo was about to give the order, but paused. His mouth hung open for a fraction, then screwed shut.

"From Crusade Command, you say?"

"Aye. From the Lord General himself."

"Funny. 'Cos comms have been down before you fell silent. There ain't been no contact at all. Might not be the smartest Cadian this side of the Gate, but I know a lie when I hear one."

Gallus' face dropped, and a darkness fell across his face. The captain was about to question the Scion further, but something caught his eye. A rapid movement, glinting in the light. Gallus' lips were moving, with no sound. Too late, Gisgo noticed the sniper.

An advanced penetrant autocannon round slammed into the Chimera's fuel tank. The rear end of the vehicle blossomed into a roiling fireball, and ripped open the end of the vehicle. Gisgo felt the heat swell as he tried to evade harm. He hit the floor, frantically swiping the errant flames off his uniform.
Then the ammunition cooked.
The lasgun, heavy bolter and multilaser clips stored in the command tank erupted, shredding the vehicle from the inside. Chunks of scorched metal sliced through the burning air. The light was blinding. Gisgo felt a huge pain on his left arm, and tried to recoil. His arm wouldn't budge. His pain-filled eyes landed on the cause. His arm had been crushed under a slab of the Chimera's flank armour. There was agony, but no pain Gisgo felt could match what his eyes saw.

Scions everywhere. There were Scions everywhere. Men and women of the 85th Battalion, emerging from concealed locations, with weapons drawn. Others simply marched in, helping their fellows up. Some were wounded, being pulled along with gauss wounds in their carapace. Others were bounding and charging ahead, gunning down Gisgo's men guarding the artillery tanks. They never stood a chance.

Most of the Cadians were shotgunned or sliced in two by hotshot lasgun rounds. The rest were forced to their knees, and held hostage. When Gisgo saw Gallus bellowing out co-ordinates to his men, and Scions clambering onto the artillery pieces, his heart sank further.

The first shells fell within seconds.

-----------------------------------

Captain Julius ducked under the swing of the Nob's massive choppa. He felt it's head shave a few hairs off his crest. A spike of indignation coursed through him, and he unloaded his plasma pistol in it's bellowing maw. It's head exploded as it's brain pan overheated.
Beside him, Brother Vardis gave a cry of pain as he was battered aside. Julius turned to face the new threat. He was met by pounds of sheer muscle and hate.

"Die, beakie!" roared Warboss Narlug.
His power klaw swung round in a vicious arc. Julius brought his power sword up, stopping the blade inches from his head. The warboss wasted no time, attacking with his spiked choppa-sword. Julius shifted his posture, catching the crude weapon and glancing it off his ceramite armour. The Ultramarine followed up, stamping on the ork's foot, and breaking the clash. Seizing initiative, the captain slashed out, embedding his power sword in the greenskin's tough flesh. Narlug's grunt of pain turned into a twisted grin. He yanked his meaty shoulder and wrenched Julius' grip off his blade. Narlug took a step back, black blood dripping off from the embedded sword.

Julius backed off, and readied his plasma pistol. Narlug rushed him, moving with speed that surprised even Julius. He was only able to get off one shot, tearing into the ork's thick hide, before Narlug closed the gap, stabbing at the Ultramarine with his choppa-sword. Julius dodged the inital stab, and caught the blade in his hand. He felt a shard pierce his hand, puncturing through the ceramite. He grunted, and pulled the weapon away from the Ork. It skittered away off the rubble. Narlug lashed out again, punching with his free hand at Julius' helm. The Warboss' massive fist cracked the power armour, and the Ultramarine toppled off the rubble to the ground, dazed and disoriented. Narlug followed. His thick leather boots scuffed and crushed rocks under their weight. Narlug readied his power klaw. Steam blossomed from it's pistons.

"Dis is fer killing ma lads on Novus Regulus. You runty beakies couldn't stop me then, and ya ain't stopping me n-"

A long blade erupted from the greenskin's chest. Narlug's porcine face fell from confusion, to anger, to rage. It tried to turn to face it's new attacker, but the sword was lodged fast. Someone fired a bolt pistol at close range into Narlug's calf. Narlug howled as bone and sinew sprayed from his leg, and fell to his knees. Behind the ork, a purple and black Space Marine stood, his power sword slick with Narlug's black blood. An Iron Halo adorned his armour. Strike Commander Ajuran tossed aside the spent bolt pistol, and kept the blade's point focused at the base of the warboss' neck.

"Captain Julius, I only hope I got here in time."

"Never mind about that, Death Raven. The Ultramarines are in your debt."

Ajuran's focus of his blade wavered. The waver was all Narlug needed. The ork tackled into Ajuran, winding the Space Marine. Narlug grabbed hold of Ajuran and battered him aside with his power klaw. The purple marine was sent crashing down the piles of stone, followed by a rampaging Narlug. Julius sprung at Narlug, wielding Ajuran's fallen sword. They were flying towards Ajuran, one to kill the Death Raven, one to save him.
Narlug brought the power klaw down. Julius stabbed with Ajuran's power sword.
There was a dull, wet sound. Julius' blade sunk into the back of Narlug's head. It jutted out through it's gaping mouth. The warboss' burning red eyes flicked from Julius to Ajuran, and then into oblivion. Julius pulled out the sword, allowing Narlug to fall dead on the ground.

He moved to Ajuran. The Strike Commander's breastplate was shattered, with splinters of the ceramite plate lodged in his heaving chest. He was alive, but he wouldn't be fighting this battle. Already, one of his command squad was tending to him with a narthecium. The Death Raven coughed, and voxed for his second-in-command, Chaplain Apollon, to pull the Space Marines into a defensive formation. The order was unnecessary.

With Narlug's death, the control he wielded over the swathes of feral greenskins broke. Old warbosses sought to press on where Narlug failed, and Narlug's own boyz retreated letting the feral Orks tie up the vengeful Space Marines. Julius knelt to the ground, prayer in his lips. The growing silence of the battle around him was now being oddly punctuated by loud booms. The sky around the Ultramarine fell dark. Julius wasn't sure if what he was seeing and hearing were real. He removed his helmet, and looked to the skies. For the first time since his rebirth as an Ultramarine, Julius' eyes dilated in panic.

The streaking contrails of artillery shells and missiles blackened out the sky above them.

-----------------------------------

Aurelius beheaded another Iron Warrior. It's head rolled off its encased torso, and splattered onto the muddy trench bottom. Another traitor swung at the Ultramarine with a thunder hammer, it's head crackling with daemonic energies. Aurelius blocked the hit with his storm shield, and rammed his sword to the hilt in his assailant's gorget. As the Iron Warrior fumbled to get the blade out, Aurelius ripped the thunder hammer from its grip and smashed it into the traitor's head. A battle cry came up behind Aurelius.

A third Iron Warrior, an Aspiring Champion by the look of it, jumped into the trench and swung at the Acting-Captain with a chainfist. Instinctively, he raised his storm shield, only to have it ripped out of his hand by the teeth. Aurelius left his paragon blade in the deceased Iron Warrior, and backed away, dodging the whirring chainblade. The Aspiring Champion was encased in Terminator armour, cannibalised and beetle-backed, with huge tusks jutting from it's helm, and easily dwarfed Aurelius. He felt his back hit up against a mound of rubble, and prepared to fight to the death. The terminator lowered it's stance and charged, tusks jutting forward like an animal.
A figure dwarfed by the rampaging monster jumped into the trench, and landed on it's vast back. The huge Iron Warrior collapsed to the bottom of the trench, with a power sword lodged in it's back. Commissar Jack Sheppard hopped off of the back of the dead Terminator, and adjusted his cap.

"Having a bit of a problem there, Space Marine?"

Aurelius retrieved his wargear and gripped the Commissar's shoulder lightly.

"I see why Karak valued you so highly, Commissar. You'd be welcome to join us both back at Macragge if we get out of this."

"You're an Astartes! You'll make it out of here." Sheppard's natural instinct took over.

Aurelius began to head back down the trench, and shot his reply over his shoulder.
"Tell that to every man I've lost since we started this crusade." Sheppard didn't respond, and followed Aurelius down the broken earth.
"Aurelius to Vorolanus. What's our current status?"

"++Trench secured, Acting-Captain. Only three more to go.++"

"Good. Any news from our brothers on the left flank? How fares Captain Julius?"

"++They got swarmed by greenskins a few minutes ago. No reply.++"

Aurelius bit back the urge to blaspheme furiously, and weaved through the trenches back to his brothers. Their power armour was scored and battered, testament to the brutal trench warfare and close-range firefights. Sheppard's Faustians fared scarcely better. Many of the guardsmen were bandaged and stained, bleeding from innumerable cuts and scratches to their face and hands. Aurelius opened his mouth to begin issuing the next set of orders to take the next trench, before he was silenced.

The sound of Earthshaker and Stormshard mortar batteries rumbled from behind the Imperial lines. All heads turned to the face the source of the noise, and watched as hundreds of tons of artillery shells arced across the ripped sky. It completely flattened the left flank with a shattering crash: to the Faustians, it felt as if the world was splitting apart. Colossal plumes of debris blossomed up from the left flank, where the Death Ravens, Ultramarines and Histans had once been.

Anyone watching would have seen unrecognisable bodies flung high into the air, like marionettes flung aside by a petulant child. Everyone knew that the sheer amount of ordnance would kill nearly everything in the blast radius. They all as it as what it was - foul treachery. But it was far more than just treachery and betrayal.

It was a signal.

Faustian soldiers in the midst of the strikeforce raised their lasrifles and opened fire indiscriminately into their former comrades. Brutal volleys of well-disciplined lasgun fire caught the loyalists totally unaware, and dozens were slaughtered in the tight confines of the trenches, including Captain Vorvan, Sheppard's second-in-command. Even squads of Ultramarines had been surrounded by their so-called allies and assailed by hails of lasfire. Aurelius was one of the first to react.

"Ultramarines, purge with extreme prejudice!"

Strikeforce Praetoria didn't need telling twice, and opened fire with their bolters. The mass-explosive rounds were fatal on the close quarters, obliterating traitor and loyalist alike. The trenches ran red with traitor and loyalist blood, as chokepoints and fire corridors were found and exploited in seconds.

Aurelius himself led a path of blood through the Faustian ranks. He felt ribs splinter whilst battering aside hapless guardsmen with his shield, and barely noticed the parting of Faustian flesh under his paragon blade. His honour guard were at his side, slaughtering any Faustians that came too close to them. Their battlecries or pleas for aid fell utterly unheeded by the sons of Guilliman.

No faction quite knew who was on their side, and guardsmen threw grenades indiscriminately around corners. Each group pulled itself inwards, not allowing outsiders anywhere near it. Traitors shot fellow traitors, Ultramarines fired upon any Faustian they saw, and every Faustian fired on lone Space Marines, fearing that they might be the superhumans' next target. Chaos descended for an uncountable number of minutes, as the right flank tore itself apart. Finally, the small clusters of men began to dislodge themselves from their foxholes and link up.

-----------------------------------

Sheppard slipped up to a trench corner, pistol drawn. There was movement around the bend. The rest of his men, the ones how ha linked up with, were in position behind him. They were taking no chances. His medic stood ready, prepared to pull the commissar back if things went south. Taking a deep breath, Sheppard stepped out into the open.

"Commissar Sheppard!" he shouted, not aware of who was on the other side.

A lasbolt pierced his leg, and he fell to the ground. His calf burned as he writhed on the ground. His medic began to run out to pull him out, but another lasbolt struck him in the head.

"Stay where you are! Or your commissar dies!"

Sheppard gazed up at his attackers. They wore Faustian armour and sigils, identical to any of the men under his command. But the sneering grins on their faces betrayed their true allegiance.
"My my, Commissar. That it should come to this. To be 'disciplined' by one's own allies. How ironic."

Sheppard's political side kicked in. His adversary was a monologuer: any stay of execution would be a boon.

"Why? Who wants me dead?"

"The true sons of Faust." the guardsman said. "Those still loyal to the memory of Hannibal Pavus, our rightful Lord General. His memory is carried on by those true believers, unblinded by dogma and faith. Tempestor Prime Gallus, Acting-Colonel Nasira. Even an old friend of yours. A Captain Kassani."

"He's dead! He died on Brackus!"

The leader laughed.
"Oh, don't worry, mister commissar. He'll come down and prove his existence to you. After all, the fleet is his to command."

"W-what? What do you mean?" Sheppard stuttered. Whilst the stutter was faked, he had to know. He had to know more.

"There's a reason Crusade Command to ground comms are down. That's because Crusade Command doesn't exist any more. Kassani destroyed it. There is no Lord General any more. Lord General Kruger Zonand is dead."

"Traitor!"

A thunderous roar erupted from behind the renegade Faustians. They huddled close, forming into a firing drill. The man in charge stammered a command, his once confident voice rising to a squeak.

"Fire at will! Bring him down! Kill him!"

Sheppard watched as lasfire rippled out towards the unknown attacker, a near continuous stream of firepower. Their formation quickly broke in seconds, and limbs, entrails and heads were ejected from the throng. The leader was trying to hold his men together, but with every new second, the line grew thinner. Until Sheppard finally saw the attacker.

His once-blue armour was now blotchy, parts scored black with lasfire, or grey where the paint had been stripped clean off, or daubed red with blood. A shredded cingulum hung over it's long legs, torn and punctured by lasgun fire. In one hand, a bloodstained sword, and in the other, an equally bloody shield. His helmet was at his waist, the traverse crest, once white, now flecked in blood, and revealing a very, very angry face.

Acting-Captain Aurelius batted aside the last infantryman aside with an elbow, and advanced on the stammering leader of the rebels.
"In the name of Lord General Zonand, I authorise your death."
His paragon blade shimmered across Sheppard's eyes, and in the next second, the sword was at rest, and the traitor's head toppling to the floor. The savage look from Aurelius' eyes faded, and he approached the downed Commissar.

"The rest of your men are with me. They are safe. But we won't be for long. We must get out of here, as soon as possible. Lest we end up like my brothers on the left flank. Up you get, Commissar. You're not dead yet."

Sheppard grimaced as he retrieved his pistol, wrapped a bandage over his leg, and followed after the Ultramarine.

-----------------------------------

Warboss Nox took a lengthy drag on his oversized cigar, and cast a glare at the orks behind him. They were getting restless. His horde of Speed Freeks weren't accustomed to being in reserve, but Archarus had decreed it. Nox knew better than to argue with the towering Daemon Prince. Even if it was only for the promise of better loot to overthrow the once-Iron Warrior. As soon as Nox thought of the betrayal, Doom Blitza gave a threatening growl, as if warning the biker. Nox could sense a kinship between his warp-forged warbike and the daemon. Maybe his plans of subterfuge would be postponed. For now.

Gobbles, his gretchin lookout, and impromptu vox-officer scampered down from his perch on Nox's flagpole and squeaked at the warboss.

"The 'umies are fighting among themselves! There's a big fight in the middle of da battlefield, pansy green 'umies in a huge dakka war wiv sum metal thingz. Looks like a lot of dakka, boss!"

Nox chuckled, and revved the engine of Doom Blitza. It seemed eager to join in. The boyz heard the warbike start, and leapt aboard their own Trukks, Warbikes and Buggies, and listened to Nox's orders.

"My ridas! We will not miss dis scrap! The most biggest scrap in da history of da Charadon Secta! Our bikes will roar like thunda, our speed will be like lightnin', but most importuntly! We ride wiv da warp itself! Da warp rides wiv us!"

"DA WARP RIDA!" the boyz bellowed, shouting louder than the roars of their engines. The Waaagh!had begun, and Nox was at it's head, hurtling towards the Guardsmen and Necrons. Neither of the two clashing armies noticed the speeding orks, too focused were they on eachother. Instead, a third force took notice of Nox' greenskins.

-----------------------------------

"The greenskins advance!" Colonel Amir declared, saddled awkwardly astride his horse.

Despite the urgings of most of his advisors, Amir had decided to command his Tallarn and lead them to victory. Only Acting-Colonel Nasira supported Amir, saying that he was suitably healed to take part in the fight. He took this as enough reason to validate his claim, and promoted her to his second-in-command immediately. Much to the disgrace of his other officers.

Either way, Amir had declared that his cavalry would be placed in the reserve, as an outflanking force to sweep across the battlefield if any of the prongs were under attack. Another of Nasira's ideas. Now the Ork bikers had committed their strength, the Tallarn felt it was only honourable to meet their ilk on the field of battle. He cantered up to the head of his regiment, astride their magnificent steeds, and delivered his speech. It would be short, but convey everything the colonel would want to say.

"Soldiers of Tallarn! May the winds blow behind us, and lift us up to the Emperor himself! Forwards, unto the jaws of death!"

The cavalry of the Tallarn 97th sprung into action, with Amir at the tip of the spear. Despite his injuries, he was still a capable rider, and held his scimitar in the air, glinting in the sky. Amir, or any of the regiment, couldn't see Nasira's devilish grin from under her cloth wrapping as she charged in just behind him, her hunting lance sharp and honed perfectly. Nor did anyone notice the earpiece disguised under the cloth on her head, or the microbead at her throat. As she charged, she whispered a quiet update over the bead.

"Strikeforce Scimitar is mobile. Executing Operation Lion."

-----------------------------------

The two mounted forces collided with eachother over the corpse-strewn battlefield between the Imperial Guard and the Necrons.

On one corner of the battlefield, a Necron flayed a charging Cadian to the bone, only to be smashed into smithereens by a rumbling warbike. The warbike skidded to a halt: it's rider riddled with smoking lasgun wounds from a Tallarn dragoon.

On another side, a dismounted Tallarn whacked an ork around the head with the butt of their hunting staff, only to be impaled on the bayonet of a gauss flayer. The victorious Warrior dislodged the weapon, only to be decapitated by the frenzied ork. The enraged beast hacked into the metal skeleton over and over, until both of them were immolated by a Histan's meltagun. The Histan turned back to fending off the new onslaught of attackers, only to find a Wraith's claws embedded in his chest. The Wraith began to slink away, but not before it was speared through the face by a Tallarn rider, who was subsequently flattened by a speeding Trukk.

Nox revelled in the chaos, gleefully running hapless 'umies and tinnies down with da Bad Kutta. Doom Blitza seemed to agree, happily purring as it sped out of control, flattening anything in it's way, and blasting through anything too big to be squished. Around him, he saw Gadnuk's Kommandos hurling explosives from out of a trukk, leaving a trail of destruction behind the old Nob. Gadnuk saw the Warprida, and gave a thumbs up. Nox returned the gesture, sticking his arm out. A Histan head slammed into the outstretched limb, breaking it's weak neck instantly. This prompted another squeal of laughter from the warboss, who ploughed into an area of thick fighting.

A Necron, clad in arcane ornamentation and clutching a pair of void blades, was slashing at anything that came too close, be in Cadian, Histan, Tallarn, or Nox's own boyz. Surrounded by an undying phalanx of Lychguard, the overlord was the calm in the eye of the storm, unmoved and unbroken. Nox grinned. He shot towards the Necron commander, blasting away with his dakkaguns. The Lychguard turned to face Nox, but they were far too late. The warp engine in his bike seemed to scream in delight as their broken metal corpses were flung aside, and Nox slashed down with his glaive.

The Necron batted aside the Bad Kutta, and made to decapitate the speeding ork with it's other void blade. Nox ducked the swing, but tumbled off of Doom Blitza. His bike continued to scramble around the battlefield, like a rabid dog. The Necron strode purposefully towards Nox, it's long, lean limbs flickering with incorporeal, ethereal flame. Just as it was about to lop off Nox's head, a fireball billowed up from it's back.

It turned it's head, eyes blazing in anger. Boss Gadnuk hurled another firebomb from his stationary trukk, as the rest of his boyz fended off the half-dead Necron Warriors scrambling up it's hull. The overlord began to ready a tachyon arrow. Nox seized his chance. He struck out with da Bad Kutta, knocking the Necron's legs from under it. The overlord toppled to the floor, and it's tachyon arrow shot up into the air. Rising to his feet, the warboss rammed his glaive into the Necron's glowing chest. Eldritch light and gas spilled from the wound, but Nox gave it no pause, and straddled the Necron.

With his huge mekboy hands, he grabbed hold of the struggling Necron's head, and began to squeeze. Sweat dripped off of Nox's bulging arms, as he fought against the overlord's frantic clawing. Finally, with Herculean effort, Nox felt something give way, and pushed harder. The Necron overlord's head crumpled like a tin can, releasing a plum of noxious gas and harsh light. Nox fell backwards, exhausted, and felt Doom Blitza against his back. It's engine purred contentedly. Victorious, Nox mounted his bike again, only to hear a faint voice shouting at him.

"Xenos! Face me and die, foul greenskin!"

He followed the noise to it's source. A man, astride a tall warhorse, brandishing a scimitar at him. His head was wrapped in a cloth of some kind, and Nox could see a thin mustache and beard over it's tanned face. He skidded to a halt, just over a few hundred metres away.

"Wot is it, 'umie? Oo dares challenge da mighty Nox Warprida?"

"Colonel Amir, commander of the 97th Tallarn, loyal servant to the Emperor and Lord General Zonand!"
With that, he spurred his steed into action, and charged at Nox. Doom Blitza screamed and sped towards Amir. Even as they closed, Nox watched Amir and grinned with tusk-like teeth. His posture was all wrong, as if he was still suffering from an unhealed injury. His horse was weary, despite the strong connection between the rider and mount. The scimitar was too short, and dulled by the tough Necron bodies it had carved into. Amir opened his mouth to yell. The human swung his scimitar, the sunlight glinting off it's surface-

Nox's glaive reached out first, slicing the Tallarn's arm off at the elbow. Da Bad Kutta continued, ripping through flesh and bone with ease, and reaching Amir's throat. The momentum of each rider did it's job. Amir's flesh parted over da Bad Kutta's edge. Nox passed the Tallarn, and cast a contemptuous glance back. Colonel Amir slumped off of his horse, his head rolling off his shoulders. Nox looked around. His boyz were seperated, all enjoying their own battles. He was about to rejoin them, when he heard a slow clapping. Nox faced the noise.

-----------------------------------

"Well done, Nox Warprida." Her voice was dripping with sarcasm. "You killed an old, wounded man in a joust. Very... impressive, wouldn't you say?"

Nox's eyes narrowed in anger.
"I defeeted da umie boss? I'm da boss now!"

"True, but do you see them fleeing in fear? No, I am the commander of the Tallarn 97th. Colonel Nasira, loyal servant to the Emperor and the true Lord General, Hannibal Pavus."

"You'z all da same ta me." grunted Nox readying da Bad Kutta. Doom Blitza growled at the mortal's insolence. "You all die da same!"

Doom Blitza shot ahead, it's warp engine furious and angry. Nox shared his metal steed's hate, and readied his glaive. Nasira spurred her own steed on, levelling down her hunting lance. Nox tried to gauge Nasira's actions - she was confident, controlled, rock solid in her posture. He revved his engine even more, trying to intimidate her. Nasira remained as impassive as ever. They were nearly upon eachother. The entire battlefield turned to look. Nox bellowed as he swung da Bad Kutta at the colonel. What Nasira did surprised the ork.

Nasira thrust her spear, but not at Nox. Instead, the hunting lance pierced the armour plating of Doom Blitza, striking the warpstone core and detonating. Nasira and her mount were thrown aside, but Nox and his bike seemed to be pulled up into the air.

The air crackled with electricity and ozone, and a great green hand tore open the smoke-filled sky. Nox roared in frustration as the hand grabbed Doom Blitza, and dragged them into the rift from where it had came. Warboss Nox and da Doom Blitza vanished in front of his Waaagh!'s eyes. In a heartbeat, their spirit broke. Spearheaded by Da Doof and Gadnuk's kommandos, what remained of Nox's great Waaagh! fled, relentlessly harrowed by some of the Tallarn.

As a group of Cadians began to approach Nasira, she whispered a single word into her comm-bead. The Cadian and Histan units, dug into their trenches, or huddled around the burnt out shells of their tanks, were suddenly surrounded by Tallarn soldiers on horseback. Tank crews were forced out of their Leman Russes at gunpoint. One of her lieutenants approached her, dragging a Cadian towards her. She dismounted and addressed him.

"What is it?" she said to the Tallarn.

"We- We can't seem to find Colonel Halter anywhere here."

Her eyes narrowed. "So, who is this welp here?"

"A captain, ma'am. A Captain Granth, captain of the 2nd Company, the Gravediggers. Said he knew where Halter is."

"Granth, is it? Where did your commanding officer go? Is he dead?"

The Cadian's violet eyes darted around, before falling to stare at the rocky ground.
"He fled with a squadron of Chimeras, and a few squads of Kasrkin. Said he had to warn the others. He'll be long gone."

"Excellent. It looks like I'll have some fun with your Halter. Oh, and Captain Kassani sends his regards."

The Cadian stared at her with wide eyes.
"B-but he's d-"

"He'll be arriving to admire my progress. I advise you plan you next words to him very carefully."

"I'll never speak another word to that traitor!"

Nasira sighed. "Pity. But you've already given us all we need." She whipped out her laspistol and shot Granth in the head. The Cadian spasmed in the dirt.

"Mobilise the cavalry. Leave two companies back here to restrain the prisoners, and prepare a link-up with the 85th. The Hunt is afoot."

The Warp, the Immaterium, is like an ocean. Its many currents and storms can send voidships this way and that much like water does with aquatic vessels. Creatures, daemons, prey its depths and strike at weakened ships, hoping there would be a mortal to feed on, hoping to corrupt the vessel and hoping to escape, even for a moment, from the Warp. Deep within the tide waters of the Warp, a place the Humans called "Gondorf's passage," was a very weakened vessel, and it had fallen prey to the daemons.

In another life, the ship would have been called the "Grand Exorcist," which was quite ironic considering its current state of affairs. A shift in the warp brought waves of Slaaneshi daemons from the annihilated surface of Gondorf's Passage to besiege the Grand Exorcist. Aboard the shattered and twisted remains of the ship, the traitor remnants of the New Order gunned down swathes of daemons until their bolter clacked dry. From there, they severed limbs and heads with their combat knives. When their knives dulled, they used their fists. Each Marine dedicated to Chapter Master Ryus died on that vessel as they were cornered and gutted by daemonettes of Slaanesh, but only ever marine that was dedicated. When all those dedicated perished, only one mortal, one Space Marine, remained. His name was already scratched from the records of the New Order history as the first heretic. He was thought to have been executed with the other traitors aboard the Warpath Furnace, but he knew all too well he would meet his fate there. The last mortal had sent the only other person who could have mimicked him, who could have mimicked his power, to face his once-called brother Sylus. The last mortal knew all too well that Sylus had used his priestess to kill his impersonator. There was no way the last mortal could have fought Sylus when the priestess was alive, for she was what called an Untouchable, one who had the pariah gene. The last mortal knew this when his Watcher could not see the priestess in the warp and he knew when he felt the abyss within her when they were near each other. She was the bane of him and Sylus had exploited that weakness to its fullest. Without a doubt, Sylus already knew the last mortal, Taihkromn Ryus, was not the one who died on the Furnace. Without a doubt, Ryus knew he would have to face his mentor again and without a doubt, Sylus would die this time, for the last mortal had become immortal.

The sound of crushing stone and dirt underfoot woke Julius. Of course, under his helmet, he was still dead. The air in his helm was stale, and his lenses were scratched and fogged. He tried to move his arm, and take his helmet off. His arm wouldn't budge. He tried his other arm. Nothing. That was when he noticed the massive lumps of stone and plascrete crushing his body. Another glance at his heads-up display told him even more news. His Iron Halo shield had been overloaded, and was in need of repair, but his main concern was his leg. His left leg had been blown off at the knee.

He was about to open his mouth and call for aid of some kind, when he heard a gunshot. Just a single blast, then silence. Then another one. And another one.
'Was the battle over?' Julius wondered. Before he could put any more thought to it, two Scions wandered into his vision. Both were helmet-less, and Julius could smell the lho-sticks they were smoking from.

"Remind me never to get on his wrong side." said one. "Poor bastards."

"They were a risk. And besides, there were so many orks."

"True. And if only the Cadians hadn't suffered that horrible incident with those infiltrating necrons. We're not qualified to operate artillery, but we had to complete our orders."

"Took the words right out of my mouth. Who's left?"

Julius watched as the two Scions came across an Ultramarine corpse lodged in light debris. Between the two of them, they dragged the Space Marine out.

"Sheppard and Aurelius. The other Ultramarine bastard we took care of. And those Histans and his Death Raven 'brothers'."

One Scion flicked the switch on his hotshot rifle, and took aim down the sights. Julius realised what their purpose was.

"Nothing survives a bombardment like that. Especially from their 'allies'."
The Scion pulled the trigger. A faint wisp of smoke rose from the Ultramarine's helmet, where the Scion had shot them. Their eyes fell on Julius, and began to advance towards him.

"Stop!" he shouted. The Scions recoiled in fear, and fumbled for their weapons. Julius was helpless, and watched as they took aim at him.

A bolt round struck one of the Scions in the head, killing him instantly. His head exploded like a watermelon. The other Scion tried to switch targets. He turned around just in time to have a bolt round smashed into his carapace. He was flung onto the floor. Blood oozed down his chest. A guardsmen, holding an oversized bolt pistol in his power fist, hobbled over, and fired a third shot into the traitor's head, before coming to Julius.

"Captain! We thought you were dead too!" the Histan croaked.

"What happened?" Julius mumbled.

"We were betrayed. The Cadian artillery fired at us, killing most of everything down on the left flank. Only, now we know it was the Scions, and not the Cadians."

Julius' mind battled with the prospect of the betrayal. His disbelief turned to sorrow, and his sorrow to anger.
"Help me out of this rubble."

As the Histan got to work hauling rubble away with his power fist, Julius fired volleys of questions.

"Who's left?"

"Only about thirty Space Marines survived, from both Chapters. Ajuran lives, but is in a very bad state."

"How bad?"

"Something about leaving a Sus-an coma? The apothecaries are working on him now, but they need medical supplies. Chaplain Appolon was killed protecting him."

"Who's left from your unit?"

"Colonel Detta lives. Fairfax, the Rogue Trader, gave him a displacer field, very rare. It was burnt out by the bombardment, but it saved his life. We've got about two under strength platoons left, but we're pretty much all wounded."

"Who are you, guardsman?"

"Falkon, sir. Sergeant Falkon."

The guardsman gave a mighty punch, and shattered the slab on top of Julius. The Ultramarine, now freed, pushed off the chunks of debris, and rose to his feet, using a nearby ork's bosspole in place of his lost leg. The metal bent slightly, but held.

Falkon led Julius across the fields of debris and valleys of shellholes. As Julius hobbled after the guardsman, he saw the whole extent of the Scion's treachery. Ultramarine and Death Ravens were blown open, their innards coating the insides of their armour like thick paint. The Histans and Orks were worse. Their bodies had simply liquefied in some cases, and their entrails were daubed over the plascrete. Julius was somewhat glad that his sense of scent was filtering out the olfactory assault.

As Falkon and Julius rounded another husk of a building, they were greeted by the sight of bombed-out vehicles. Julius' own tanks, a Sicaran amongst them, were being repurposed into medicae centres. They were battered, unworthy to ever take the field again, but they afforded cover and shelter from the roving bands of Scions.

As Falkon approached, a few Astartes rushed out, and helped Julius into the demolished Land Raider. Strike Commander Ajuran gave an appreciative nod.

"Thought you'd met your end out there. Appolon and three quarters of my men did."

"We'll avenge them, Commander. Both yours and mine."

"Captain, look at us. We aren't in any state to fight back against them. Most of us are injured, unequipped, and stranded."

"The Death Raven is right." Colonel Detta limped into the vehicle. "My own Histans have too many wounded to count. My Sentinel pilot under Captain Vayden are without a bird, and the heaviest weaponry we have are the lascutters we used to get them out. We don't stand a chance."

"And what about our brothers still out there? Aurelius and Sheppard's men are still out there! You can't expect us to abandon them?" Julius frothed.

Ajuran sighed. "Yes, Julius, we can. Our losses mean nothing if we can't spread the word of it. We must endure."

"You're saying that... That we wait? Wait for some kind of misguided aid? Or for them to find us?"

"Either one." Detta muttered.

Julius could feel his anger burning up, and hobbled out of the door, pushing past his fellow Ultramarines. Detta's frantic pleas fell on deaf ears before Julius realised what was going on.

"You idiot! Get back in! They'll see you!"

Too late, Julius heard the engine of flyers overhead, and looked up. A full squadron of Arvus Lighters were circling his position, and were beginning to land. The Histans and Space Marines rushed out, and drew what little weapons they had left.

The first Arvus landed back first. Julius was waiting for the inevitable fireteam to charge out of the back, mowing down the survivors. But it never happened. Instead, the hatch opened, and the loyalists were greeted by a single figure. A Cadian, missing most of his arm, and covered in burns, walked down the entry ramp to greet the survivors.

"Thank the Emperor you're alive! I knew there would be survivors!"

Colonel Detta strode towards the guardsman and gripped his hand. "You came looking for us? How did you know we'd be here?"

The other Arvus crafts began to land, revealing yet more empty troop holds and skeleton crews.
"We were manning the artillery when the 85th bastards seized them for their own uses. Dropped most of our payload onto you. But I saw the survivors. Me and my boys fought our way out and stole as many transports as we could. We thought there'd be more of you."

Detta sighed in relief. "We're just glad we survived. Where are you taking us?"

"We've got a friendly ship in the fleet. They'd get us up there and safe. We're not hanging around any longer than we have to. Now, get your men on board. The Scions will be onto us any minute now."

The platoon of Cadians already aboard the lighters began helping with the wounded, setting them down in the crafts. Each vessel had two Space Marines put in as well, for protection. Julius made his way into the leading Cadian's Arvus, alongside Ajuran. The Death Raven was being carried in on a salvaged Atlas recovery tank. As the last of the survivors piled on, Julius caught the Cadian by his good arm.

"Thank you. Thank you for coming back for us. Who are you?"

"Captain Gisgo, sir. Commander of 5th Company, and ranking officer of the Cadian 13th."

----------------------------------

Nox felt his body ache, he felt a cool marble floor underneath him, it didn’t register to him immediately that he was no longer on the battle field. Nox opened his eyes to find the marble floor he felt to actually not exist but rather stars and nebulas rested below him. Not quite what he expected.

A voice called out.
“It is a pleasure to finally meet you, Nox."

The mek slowly arose to his feet, unsure of his footing considering he had no ground to stand on. Nox saw in front of him sat a humanoid beast sitting atop a black throne.

Nox blurted out, “'Oo are you?”

The daemon smiled.
“You don’t remember me? I am Annuban, the destroyer of men, the eater of suns, though you may know me by the name you have given me: DoomBlitza.”

Nox’s eyes widned “Yer not DoomBlitza! DoomBlitza is my bike.”

The daemon laughed at the ork’s ignorance. “I remember the day you embedded me into the bike, you scrapped pieces from another ork’s suit of Mega Armor to craft me.”

Nox was stunned “Did Gobbles put you up to this?”

“You and I both know Gobbles is not capable of this intricate deception.”

Nox shrugged. “No, suppose he ain’t… So you're really DoomBlitza, my bike?”

“Yes I am, and I am glad you are here: I wanted the chance to thank you.”

“Erm, what fer?”

Annuban sighed. “Long ago I was imprisoned into the crystal I quickly learned that I could not escape. I feared that I would never taste the honey of battle or drink the sweet fear of my victims, I would be left here bored for all eternity. That all changed when you bound me to DoomBlitza. You unleashed me upon the galaxy once more and for that I am eternally grateful.”

Nox smiled “Cheers. I fink we make a good team, you and I.”

The daemon spoke again. “But you are here for a reason Nox.”

The Big Mek raised his brow and asked “Iz dat right? I thought it was an accident I ended up 'ere.”

“There are no accidents, Nox.” The daemon’s face turned to rage as he spoke his next sentence. “I was banished here long ago by a sorcerer. I have long since given up on hope of release. Now I only crave vengeance, I want that wretch to suffer as greatly as I have suffered and as fate would have it this psyker stalks the battlefield this very day.”

Nox smiled “I suppose I do owe you one... 'Oo do you want dead?"

Annuban smiled, and Nox could feel the Sorcerer's presence in his mind, like his sight and hearing. He was about to say something to the daemon, but the stars around them were quickly fading, and in a blinding flash of light the space they occupied vanished into nothing.

Nox awoke on in the dirt of the battlefield he had left. He slowly arose to his feet and saw his DoomBlitza only a few feet away perfectly undamaged and impossibly clean. Nox rolled his neck, causing it to pop and crack. The ork smiled as spoke to himself. “Looks like I got a psyka to kill.”

----------------------------------

Five Iron Warriors descended into the trench. Their armour was baroque and anointed with the blessing of the Dark Gods, their weapons were snarling daemons in their iron fists. These were some of Archarus' Chosen. Their hazard stripes and gunmetal armour was caked in mud and dirt, doing as best to conceal the Chaos Space Marines as they could. And just a matter of feet away, Commissar Sheppard, Colonel Halter and Acting-Captain Aurelius and Codicier Saren were locked in debate. Of course, unbeknownst to them, they were in mortal peril.

"They're going to come for us." Halter stammered. "We're the last ones left."

"And they have orbital superiority?" Saren spoke.

Sheppard nodded glumly. "It's... it's not looking good."

"We're outnumbered on both fronts." Aurelius said. "We advance, and get torn up before we reach the Iron Warrior trenches-"

"Or retreat, and get killed or captured by our erstwhile allies." Saren finished. "Of course, there is an alternative."

"Which is?"

Halter nodded in understanding with Saren. "We hold ground. Wait for one of them to attack, and make them pay for every inch of ground they took from us."

Aurelius was about to nod his agreement, but was cut short. The sound of rocks being moved sounded from around a trench corner. Before any of the officers could draw their weapons, the Chosen sprang out. Their leader snarled a command in Olympian, and the squad raised their daemon bolters. Their fingers' began to squeeze the trigger. A bolt round spiralled out of the muzzle-

Five shots, barely audible. That's all that was fired. The bolt round detonated as it left the chamber, blowing up in it's master's face. Before the others could react, two more shots shattered the eye lenses of two Chosen. Another shot struck a Chosen's meltabomb. The unbelievable heat stripped the Chosen's armour, and incinerated it in a heartbeat. A fifth shot ruptured through the last Chosen's face grille. The helm slid off, revealing a perfectly bisected head. Blood hadn't even begun to flow, and it's pale face was contorted in a grin of victory.
All in the place of three seconds.

Their suits of armour crumpled to the ground, lifeless and inert. Before the Imperials could say anything else, Lilliana gave the order to materialise. Her Eldar Rangers materialised around them, clutching their Ranger long rifles. The Imperials couldn't help but scrape their ape-like jaws off the ground when Lilliana strode towards them.

"I am Lilliana. I command the forces of Craftworld Ibraesyil. And I have a proposition for you."

The Imperials glanced from one, to the other, totally caught unaware.
"A proposition? Why don't you start by telling us exactly why you just saved us?" Aurelius snarled. His hand rested on his paragon blade.

"I saved you because you will be useful to me. Which leads onto my proposition-

"Which is?"

Lilliana cast an angry glare at Sheppard, who grinned from under his hat.
"My proposition, in case you weren't aware, will affect the fate of both my Craftworld, and less importantly, the fate of your crusade. So if you wouldn't keep interrupting-"

"Get on with it." Sheppard muttered. "You're getting distracted, witch."

Lilliana bit back a retort, but instead psychically directed it to Korvel: Sheppard's head was resting in his crosshairs.
"Stand down, Korvel. He's not a threat."
The Warp Spider lowered his gaze, and gave his Farseer a respectful nod.

"As I was saying. My warhost can't afford to take on Archarus ourselves. We're offering you the choice to help us, and your Crusade."

"You mean, you want meat shields whilst you save your oversized knife-ears?" Sheppard spat on the ground. Lilliana gritted her teeth, and shot the commissar a filthy look. Sheppard moved to draw his bolt pistol. "Foul aliens like you, we shouldn't have let you open your harlot's mouth!"
The rest of Lilliana's retinue raised their long rifles, and faint Eldar runes floated over the human's foreheads. Lilliana fought to keep a grin off her face.

Aurelius looked like he was about to shout out a litany of hate against the witch, when his face froze. The Ultramarine stuttered, and his eyes rolled back in his head. His grip on his paragon blade tightened, and his storm shield fell from his other hand.
The Sorcerer was in his head again.

You can not refuse destiny, Aurelius. Before you can claim your ultimate prize you must complete three labours.
You have already completed the first labour at Gallor Prime,
And you stopped the Deep from consuming this sector,
But for your last Labor you must still put an end to Archarus and his warp incursion.
If Archarus is successful in his plot everyone in this sector will wish they were eaten by Tyranids.
You see, Aurelius, you have no choice.
You will either do this, or you will forsake all you fight for,
And we both know that is no option.

"No." Aurelius finally spoke. "Not here."

Halter and Sheppard gave Aurelius a look of confusion.
"What?" Halter said.

"We have to go with them. I have to go with them."

"Acting-Captain, you're making a mistake! They're using us, can't you see? We can hold off Nasira and Gallus' forces, and come back for Archarus with reinforcements." Sheppard tried to keep the desperation from his voice.

"It is the only way." Codicier Saren said. His words were heavy, but rang true. The two guardsmen knew that.

Lilliana broke the silence that descended on them.
"Good. I see mon'keigh are willing to do the right thing." She cast a favourable eye to Aurelius, who met it with burning steel under his brow. "Now, my good friend Korvel is capable of overloading his warp-phase jumpers to get us inside Archarus' warp-fortress. However, we can only afford to take another twenty of you. My own Rangers take up too much energy to allow any more than that. Choose who you're taking to support my endeavour."

"I nominate myself to join the Eldar's kill squad." Aurelius declared. He thrust his paragon blade into the ground. "Who is coming with us?"

"Acting-Captain, we need one of us here to command what forces we leave behind." Halter said. "I volunteer for this. If anyone is getting the chance to kill one of those traitors, it's going to be me. My regiment dies with me."

Saren spoke up. "I'm going with Aurelius. We will be accompanied by the Acting-Captain's Honour Guards. Their breaching shields should be excellent in the tight corridors."

Sheppard sighed. He knew what Petra would say. If she were here, and not with their daughter on Trisburg. Much as she had hated the order, she understood why Lord General Zonand had assigned her there. "I guess I'm going with the Ultramarines. My friend, Halter, you have command over the rest of my Faustians. I'm taking a dozen of my Paragons with me though."

Aurelius nodded deferentially. "It is decided. Halter will stay behind and command the Cadians and Faustians, and my strikeforce will stay behind, under command of Chaplain Trajan. But Saren, Sheppard and I are coming with you, Farseer."

"Good. Shall I tell Korvel to begin the jump?"

"Not yet." Aurelius turned to Halter. "Make them remember us."

"Understood." Halter rapped his flak jacket, and clasped Aurelius on the arm, before returning to the rest of his men. Aurelius' bodyguard and the remainder of Sheppard's Paragons regrouped around their commanders.

"We are ready, xeno." Sheppard announced.

Lilliana nodded to Korvel, and the Warp Spider pressed a button on his shunt generator. The area crackled with psychic hoarfrost and eldritch energy, and the the assembled warriors vanished from the trench.

-----------------------------------

Archarus watched the greenskins flee following the warp core explosion that detonated Nox’s bike. Keb’Hal approached the massive red demon.
“A shame. I was growing fond of that creature, he was particularly brutal.”

Archarus ignored his minion’s comments and watched as hordes of orks began fleeing away from the Imperials. The Daemon Prince felt the blood boil in his demonic veins and roared in fury, before taking to the skies on tattered blood soaked wings.

-----------------------------------

Dok Krusha rode as fast as his bike would take him away from the slaughter that had been Nox’s accident. The Painboy was shouting in fear. “Zog zog zog zog...”
Nox’s elite Lad’s of Anorky, and most of both Nox and Narlug's boyz, had been in retreat hoping to save their own hides. The horde rode into a canyon. The path seemed clear. All until a great red beast fell from the heavens.

The creature landed with such fury that the ground erupted upward. The beast gave no warning beyond a hateful stare. The daemon waved his hand. A great ball of fire was thrown at the advancing mob, killing countless orks and exploding countless bikes. Some of the bikers thought to retaliate and peppered dakkagun rounds into it's false hide. The great daemon laughed and slammed his sword to the canyon’s floor. The earth opened and split apart, consuming many of the greenskins. As the orks fell into the infernal pit, daemonspawn climbed forth. Bloodletters of Khorne clawed their way out, eager to punish the cowards.
Within minutes, hundreds of the fleeing orks were dead and less than a few hundred remained huddled at the back of the pass.

Archarus spotted the ork who looked to be in command and approached the pitiful greenskin. Archarus took Dok Krusha into his fist, his massive claws wrapping around the Nob’s torso. The ork struggled as he was brought into the air. Arachus brought the ork to his face and spoke in a low growl “Is this how you repay me, ork? I give you the greatest fight in the history of bloodshed and you disgrace me by running away.”

The painboy spoke, near petrified from fear, “But boss, dey- dey killed our bosses! We aint got no one ta lead us.”

Archarus spat, “I care not for your petty problems. You will turn around and face the enemy or else you will face me.”

The dok stammered in fear. “Ay- Aye boss, you aint got nothing to worry about from us, we’z headed back to regroup right now.”

The demon looked the ork over and spoke “You are a painboy, so I know you can imagine all the suffering I can inflict upon you." Krusha squirmed in his grip. "I think I will give you a sample so you can know the price of your failure.”

Archarus placed a single talon into the ork’s eye socket. The nob screamed and writhed in pain as the daemon removed the ork’s right eye. Archarus dropped the ork and laughed. “Now, back into the fight.”
Krusha scrambled to his feet and ran off to remount his bike.

-----------------------------------

In a small torch lit bunker, Gadnuk and the remaining Ork bosses bickered. Their heated voices dwarfed the thunderous fire of guns that lay outside their concrete walls.

The forces of Waaagh! Warprida and Waaagh! Narlug were in shock after the loss of their mighty overlords. At that moment, Krusha entered the bunker, his eye covered in a bandage.

The pain boy silenced the other bosses to give his report. “Had a talk with Archarus. 'Ee made it very clear retreat ain't an option." A collective groan went up from around the bosses.

Boss Gadnuk spoke “We got to get back in da fight den. Or we'z be daemon-food."

Ronin, the commander of Nox’s air force, spoke “You want us to go back out dere? Why? Just so we can all go and get chopped up, I don’t think so. And 'oo put you in charge anyhow?”

Da Doof spoke up. “Zog off Ronin, Nox is boss cuz dat's how Nox woulda wanted it.”

The rebellious nob retorted. “Well guess what Nox iz zoggin dead, so it don’t rightly matter what he woulda wanted, don’t it?”

Gadnuk growled “Zog you Ronin. It’z git-brained blood axes like you dat give da rest of us a bad rep-u-tayshun.”

Bloodtalon growled. “He’s right though - you isn’t da boss Gadnuk. I reckon I’m da biggest round ere dat makes me Boss.”

Big Mek Moganog scoffed. "I'd rather follow a squig-brained snakebite than listen to dis Bad Moon pansie. I'm da best of Narlug's lads, and I've still got me Gargant, so I'm biggest and dakkiest than tha lot of ya!"

Gadnuk shouted above the others. “Listen! Nox is dead, Narlug is dead. If we don’t pull together and stomp deez humiez, den were gonna be da ones that get stomped and be no better off den Narlug or Nox.”

A new ork entered the bunker.
"I say we do what we do best, kill any git dat gets too close.”
All the orks all turned their gaze to entrance of the bunker to see Nox, arisen from nothingness. Nox drew his slugga and laughed “I miss anything good while I was gone?”

"Not much, Boss." Da Doof grabbed Nox's shoulder and and squeezed it in familiarity. "We need a plan, boss."

"I've got one. Or, at least, DoomBlitza does." Nox grinned. "We'z got a psyka ta kill." All the bosses cheered, their hoarse voices drowning out the outside world.

"Great!" shouted Gadnuk. "Where is dis psyka den?"

Nox pointed his finger onto the tattered map the bosses were huddled around. The filthy nail fell on top of Archarus' impregnable fortress.
"You'z not gonna like it."

-----------------------------------

"Incoming!"
Julius squeezed his oversized head into the control room of the Arvus Lighter. Captain Gisgo looked up at Julius and pointed to the radar.
"Valkyries, inbound! 85th Scions. They're hunting us."

The dregs of the loyalist forces had made good ground in their Arvus Lighters, and were en route to linking up with their loyalist friend in orbit. But Gisgo and Julius both knew their luck would run out. Now, it had.

A voice burst over the comms.
"This is Tempestor Atellus, acting under Crusade Command. Land your fleet, and await the Emperor's Judgement, or face destruction in the sky."

Gisgo grabbed the vox-horn and shouted over the Arvus' vox channel.
"Keep flying! If you have a gun, shoot it out of the back ramp!"

Julius grabbed a bolter from a weapon rack, and opened the rear hatch. Loose pieces of debris were sucked out of the back, and Julius felt the wind whipping past them. Behind him, three squadrons of Valkyries were forming into attack formations. He took aim at the nearest Valkyrie, and fired. The wind stole the sound of the bolt. Julius' keen eyes saw it strike off the left wing. His temporary prosthetic leg was making his shots incredibly unwieldy. Adjusting aim, he took a second shot.

This time, the bolt struck true. The pilot jerked in his cockpit, his blood staining the shattered canopy. The Valkyrie began to nose-dive down, incinerating it's unlucky passengers in a roiling fireball. The other Valkyries began to junk and weave, opening fire with multilaser and lascannon fire. The Arvus' were forced to dodge, and Julius found his shots going wide. The sound of a monstrous autocannon roared from Arvus 5, tearing another Valkyrie from the sky. Someone must have salvaged an autocannon from the wreckage.
"That'll be Vayden." Detta said to Julius between taking shots from a cannibalised lasgun. "Took it from his Sentinel when we-"
Before Detta could finish his sentence, Arvus 10 went up in flames. It's wreckage spiralled to the canyon floor miles beneath the dogfight.

Julius roared in anger. Two of his own Ultramarines had been on that Arvus, and a squad of Histans. Brothers Decrales and Garrus, if he recalled. More names to avenge. Before he could express his grief, another Arvus went down, Arvus 8. He saw twin lascannons strike it's rear engine. This time, it blew up in the sky, raining fiery debris over the rest of the fleet.

Suddenly, Gisgo called back from the cockpit.
"Boarders, on Arvus 2! Isos' bird. Give them a hand!"
Julius leant out of the aircraft, and looked over at Arvus 2. Sure enough, Scions clambered over it, wielding explosives and lascutters. Julius' first shot didn't puncture the target's armour, but the kinetic impact sent him staggering, and the Scion toppled off the edge. The rest of his squad opened fire on Julius. He felt beams of hotshot lasfire taking his body, and he pulled away from the retaliation. Julius offered another prayer, then leaned back out. This time, his shot punctured a Scion's helmet, spraying gore out only to be whipped away by the rush of air. The last Scion kept firing at the Ultramarine, until a bolt round tore his leg off at the knee. The Scion's safety harness would kept him attached to the Arvus; if it hadn't been severed by shrapnel. The human was swept to his death.

Julius was about to return back into his Arvus, when he heard a knock on the hull. Boarders.
Already, he heard the sound of charges being set. Maglocking his bolter, he clambered up the outside of the vessel. As he reached the top, he grabbed hold of a Scion's legs, and ripped him off the top of the aircraft. The other three began opening fire. The captain felt the sting of a hotshot round in his hand, and recoiled in pain. He hung from the ledge with one hand, dangling miles above the speeding earth below.

Suddenly, an autocannon roared out. Julius felt the impacts of the high calibre weapon, and watched as the Scions were mown down, shredded by the autocannon. As Julius clambered up onto the top of the Arvus, he saluted Arvus 5. Vayden, the gunner, returned the gesture.

Julius surveyed the situation. He only counted twelve Arvus'; four must have gone down. In return, three Valkyries had been shot down. There were still six to go. One of them, directly below them, had golden markings, command decals. Tempestor Atellus' vehicle. Julius opened up a comm link with Gisgo.
"Captain, I need you to keep me covered."

"Yes my lord, but what are you-"
Julius jumped off the Arvus, and plummeted onto a Valkyrie below.

His power armour smashed through the top layer, and dented the second. The Scions inside tried to react, but were far too slow. Julius was an azure whirlwind, even with a makeshift leg, caving skulls and chests, and punching Scions out of the hatches. Julius saw Atellus, who threw aside his pistol. The Tempestor drew a power sword, and slashed at Julius. The Ultramarine dodged, leaving the blade to slash into the bulkhead. As Atellus sought to free the sword, Julius sidestepped beside him, and delivered a crippling strike to the Scion's kidney. The man crumpled. Julius hauled him to his feet.
"Where is Gallus?" he bellowed into the Scion's twisted face.

"Rot in the warp!" Atellus yelled back. Julius increased the pressure on his grip. Atellus quickly begged for mercy. "No, please! No! He's on the ground, leading the rest of the 85th."

"Against?"

"Sheppard and Aurelius. Then the crusade will be finally free of your kind."

"Not yet." Julius pulled off Atellus' helm, and swatted his face with his palm. He felt bones crack under the impact. Tempestor Atellus fell to the floor, his face mangled and broken.

The Valkyrie was still moving, albeit slower, and more carefully. The pilot still thought that Atellus was alive. Julius snorted, and wrenched a heavy bolter from off it's mounting. Hauling the heavy weapon, he kicked down the back ramp, and began firing on the other Valkyries. They were unprepared, and Julius was able to shred through the nearest, obliterating the cockpit, and sending the Scions to their deaths. The other Valkyries parted, trying to shoot at Julius without destroying the Valkyrie he was in. The Ultramarine sidestepped a multilaser beam, and squeezed the trigger. More high explosive rounds streaked through the sky, and shattered harmlessly against the flyer's wings. The magazine clicked dry. Julius looked back up to the battle, and barely avoided having his head taken off by a lascannon. He tossed aside the bolter.
"Pickup required Gisgo!" Julius yelled, as he placed krak grenades in the back of the cockpit. He didn't even wait for a reply before he pulled the pins and jumped out of the Valkyrie.

The command vehicle detonated, framing the plummeting Ultramarine with a halo of flame. In the corner of his vision, Julius watched Arvus 1 streaking past him, trying to pick him up. On the other side, he saw a Valkyrie shooting straight beneath him. About to splatter him in mid air. About to collide with bone-breaking force. He braced himself, watching the collision point get closer and closer-
Bolter rounds ripped open the cockpit, demolishing the delicate controls. The Valkyrie swerved away, in a dead man's grip. Arvus 1 swooped in, and caught Julius hard, slamming the Ultramarine into the wall. He felt his good leg shatter and break upon the impact. Julius felt a purple hand on his shoulder: Strike Conmander Ajuran was grimacing, holding a smoking bolter.
"Couldn't choose the easy way, could you?" he grinned.

"It was easier. Just a little more dangerous."

"And now you're legless. The price of bravado, Captain." he laughed.

The rest of the Valkyries, outnumbered and leaderless, pulled back, scarred and wounded. The Loyalists had fared no better. Over a quarter of them had been shot down, and almost all of them were battle-damaged in some way. A voice crackled over the vox.

"++Identify yourselves. This is the 'Spear of Heldir', requesting identification and allegiance of your squadron.++"

Julius and Ajuran looked at Gisgo, who flicked on the comms.
"'Spear of Heldir', this is Captain Gisgo, Cadian 13th. We are loyal to Kruger Zonand, and those who act under his command."

"++Zonand, you say? Are you not aware that he was killed?++"

"Yes, but he lives on with us."

There was a pause. No-one dared breathe.

"++It's good to hear from you, Gisgo. It's madness up here. Crusade Command's gone, and they've destroyed the Space Marine vessels. There's no Astartes left now.++"

"I've got the remnants of Captain Julius and Strike Commander Ajuran's forces with me. They got shelled by the Scion 85th. We all need a refuge."

"++So you said. The problem is I don't know if I can get you on board without raising suspicion. There's no reward for me, and a helluva lot can go wrong.++"

"We've got nowhere to go. We can't risk contacting another ship. You've got to let us up there! There's Space Marines on here, for feth's sake!"

"++'All the Space Marines got killed by foul orks.' That's what they're saying, Captain. They're all gone. No survivors. Unless you can get me something I can't refuse, I can't get you up here.++"

The vox link distorted, and a third voice broke in.
"'Spear of Heldir', my name is Colonel Detta, of Hista. And I have powerful friends. Friends who could change your life for good, or for bad."

"++Go on?++"

"Heard of the Reforged Sovereign? Or House Fairfax? Rogue Traders. They won't be too happy to know that my men have been abandoned by you."

"++How would they know about-++"
"I have my ways. Let us on, and I'll see to it that you're rewarded well."

There was a sigh, and the sound of barked orders. Gisgo gave Detta a thumbs up. The Colonel let out a shaky breath.

"++Okay. You're a squadron of Arvus Lighters carrying salvage for House Fairfax, and your ship was destroyed by Necrons. Entry code six-eight-twenty-two, dock twelve. I'll be there to meet you.++"

The Arvus Lighters broke atmosphere, and arced up towards the 'Spear of Heldir. Their tiny, scarred hulls seemed to limp with relief, like glistening teardrops of joy against the hull of the vast cruiser. Dock 12 opened up, and the Arvus' fell inside, in the protective bowels of the 'Spear'.

Gisgo wiped away the sweat from his head, and turned back to the commanders.
"That's it, lads. You're safe now."

-----------------------------------

Archarus glowered at the fortress door, daring it to break down. His eyes themselves smoked and smouldered with the embers of flame. His Iron Warriors, and a small contingent of Kageros' Necron Immortals had their weapons ready, trained on whatever would come through the fortress gates. But the daemon prince already knew. On the other side of the gates, swarming at his porch, were the frenzied, foul greenskins. Archarus cursed himself for trusting the brutes. For even hoping they could hope to serve Khorne's mighty cause. The daemon smiled anyway. More skulls for the Skull Throne.

A huge impact ripped into the door, denting it. The trapped souls in the door squealed in fear. The orks were almost through.
"Legions of Iron!" Archarus boomed. "We reap the boons of treachery, just as Khorne reaps what is his! Anyone who doesn't defeat one of these beasts will be tormented in the Warp by my hand. Remember: Khorne cares not whence blood flows!" Archarus paused. He was about to utter the millennia-old warcry of the Iron Warriors, until the scent of blood hit the back of his throat. His daemonic eyes dilated, like a shark in water, and the battlecry of Khorne came unbidden to his mouth.

"Blood for the Blood God!"

With a titanic smash, the fortress gates burst open, barely holding to their hinges, and disgorged a flood of orks into the keep. They made it scant inches in, before they were mown down by bolter and gauss fire. Yet the losses disturbed them not. They carried on charging, using the flayed bodies of their comrades as body shields. From a parapet overseeing the carnage in the courtyard, Aracharus saw the differences in his men's fighting style.

His Iron Warriors aimed for the orks' feet, bringing the brutes to the ground with bolter rounds. His few Volkite-armed squads were in constant motion, running behind the front lines of bolter troops to deliver punishing storms of Volkite barrages. They aimed straight for the body shields, letting the corpses deflagrate, and revelled in the destruction they caused.

The Telsa-armed Immortals did the same, letting the wild eldritch energy of their carbines spread like wildfire through the orks. The leather armour of the feral ork vanguard was no match for the Telsa energy, nor did it withstand the ancient power of their gauss blasters. The gauss rounds bored straight into the body shields, flaying both the corpse, and making a new one. Archarus watched as their Phaeron, Kageros, commanded his phalanx from behind a screen of his last Lychguard phalanx.

Archarus withheld the urge to join the fray. His arrival would need to be held for exactly the right moment, to shatter the minds of the charging greenskins. His forked tongue licked his fiery lips, and watched with grim joy as bikers were shredded by the handful, and the infantry that ran by their side lasted few seconds longer. Suddenly, the fortress wall above the open gates cracked and fell, broken apart by the hammer of an angry god. A very angry green god.

The Gargant shouldered past the wreckage and clusters of warp-forged stone that clung to the breach. It was nearly the height of the entire curtain wall, and utterly dwarfed whatever Archarus had. It fired a volley of rokkits, missiles and shells into the Iron Warriors. Traitor Astartes were brought down, their power armour offering no defence against the high-calibre rounds, or high explosive shells. The Necrons, for all their technological prowess, were hardly any better. Necrodermis shells and husks were tossed around the battlefield, only to be trodden underfoot by the invigorated orks. Now the firepower had slackened, the orks were finally able to close the gap. The defenders got a last volley in, but it was too late. Bloody combat was joined.

Chainaxes and pneumatic hammers alike sawed and smashed through the greenskin ranks. Truly, Khorne had smiled upon the Iron Warriors, and the greenskins struggled to make a meaningful impact into the unmovable battleline. On the Necron end, the Immortals had been torn apart and scattered to the four winds, unable to reanimate. Kageros and his Lychguard were a different story. Warscythes and hyperphase swords rose and fell, butchering the savages. Where Kageros stood, his Lychguard stood the same way. They moved as a single being, unbreachable and single-minded. Kageros himself was resplendent, his cloak of axions and suspended ions shimmering as he reaped more orks. Then, Archarus saw a streak of red moving through the greenskins - Keb'hal. His daemonic lieutenant had been unable to resist the battle, and was scything through them. Khorne's own vitality fuelled the daemon, and nothing could stop it. Dozens of boyz were slaughtered, cut down and torn apart. A larger ork, some kind of Warboss, moved to intercept Keb'hal, and smashed with his power klaw. Keb'hal stopped, sized up his new opponent, and launched back into the fray. The Warboss was tore apart by the daemon's direct attention, and was left behind as Keb'hal carved more bodies out of his way. The Gargant must have taken notice. It swivelled it's massive cannon to point at Keb'hal, and fired. Keb'hal was swallowed in the explosion. There was no hope. The daemon was vaporised, alongside the swathe of orks he was embedded in.

Archarus roared, ferocious and feral, and the Gargant swivelled it's aim to the daemon prince. Archarus sprang off of his parapet, and his axe materialised into his taloned grasp, and descended into the fray. His wings wrapped around him, cloaking the daemon prince in a shroud of blood and flame. His landing was like a comet, and the battle ceased for an instant, with the orks' bestial eyes locking on the daemon.

The second was all it took. The Iron Warriors shredded through the greenskins, spraying fountains of gore. They were helpless, paralysed by the avatar of Khorne that had fell amongst them. But Archarus paid them no attention. His gaze was levelled at the Gargant, and his animal, muscly legs sprang into life. The daemon flattened hapless orks in his path, leaving a red trail of gore before he took flight. The Gargant fired, missing the flying daemon prince and leaving a swathe of it's own men in bloody ruin. Archarus arced upward, and hacked at the power cabling on the cannon arm. The limb went stiff, and noxious gas billowed out of the severed piping and cables.

Undeterred, the Gargant attacked again, swinging at the Iron Warrior like a drunk man trying to swat a gnat. Archarus danced out of the way, and snarled as one of the big shoota turrets on the giant's carapace caught his shoulder. He swooped down, perching on the Gargant's massive shoulder. The gretchin gunners were no match for Archarus. But he refrained for killing them. Instead, his very aura broke their feeble minds, and they flailed at eachother with reckless abandon, wielding spanners, hacksaws, and other improvised weaponry. Archarus revelled in the chaos, and began to tear out armour plating from the Gargant's head. With a final tug, he tore a hole large enough for him, and slinked into the Gargant.

The few orks and gretchin stupid enough to confront him were no match, and soon the corridors where they had met were marked by blood and viscera. As Archarus battered down the door to the command deck, he was greeted by empty chairs. The Gargant had been remotely controlled the whole time. Archarus roared in anger, and slashed away at everything in the room. His furious eyes fell upon a large red button on the side. A note plastered to it read "Self-disstrukt button - do NOT press dis". Another note read "Espeshully YOU, Gitface."

Archarus' mouth split into a fanged grin, and he jabbed the button with an extended talon. As the countdown began, he tore open the vision slits that the orks used, and soared away back to the battle. The daemon prince landed just as the Gargant detonated, feeling the nuclear explosion behind his wings. The orks were caught in the blast, and the lucky ones were vaporised. The unlucky greenskins were thrown aside, and butchered by the depleted and vengeful Iron Warriors and Lychguard. The surviving orks either continued to run into the Chaos Space Marines' blades, or fled from the battle, never to return. The last Waaagh! had been routed. Archarus let the survivors flee. Phaeron Kageros, wounded by a Nob's power klaw, approached Archarus.

"Your new form is rather intimidating."

"Quite. You have served well, Necron. My warband may call upon you in the future, if we require your aid." It was a statement, not a question.

"Not too soon, Warsmith. My Legions have been severely depleted, and one of my lieutenants killed. My other commander, Grulahk, is self-repairing after a confrontation with these very greenskins. I hope that the ork that did this met his end on this very battlefield."

"The Blood God provides. You will join us in the slaughter, Phaeron."

Kageros and his Lychguard nodded in farewell, and phased out of the Iron Warrior fortress.

Archarus allowed himself to feel the joy of slaughter, and raised his leering face to the heavens. Out of the corner of his eye, he swore he saw movement from out of one of his fortress windows. He gave it some attention, and gazed a little harder. Nothing was there. It was just smoke. Just ash on the wind.

-----------------------------------

"Bloodtalon's signal's dead, boss."

Gadnuk listened intently to the looted vox-caster. The rest of the "infiltrayshun skwad" paused, their silenced shootas trained up and down the hallway. The walls inside the Iron Warrior keep were bare, devoid of any ornamentation. Whilst the battle died outside, Nox and his crew of Gadnuk's kommandos and some of his Sons of Anorky has infiltrated Archarus' fort. Now, the maze of corridors, they needed to find this sorcerer. So far, no trace of him could be found by anything other than DoomBlitza itself. In various corners, piles of skulls leered out at the orks, which da Doof would frequently speak to. Why so many of them were called Yorick, none of them would ever know. At periodic intervals, Nox would dismount DoomBlitza, and place an ear to the bike's engine, and confirm that their quarry was near. Now, Nox was listening to the vox, as his bike purred between his legs.

"Ee's gone. Dey iz all dead." Da Doof said. His voice was firm and assured. "I can feel it. Moganog wasn't grabbed, but da Waaagh is dead."

Nox bowed his head in a moment's silence. "They died fightin'. And that's all we needed. A distrakshun. A distrakshun for us to find dis psyka, and nab 'im."

"And wot is us, boss? Anuvva distrakshun?" Gadnuk said to Nox. The kommandos eyed up the members of Nox's elite Sons of Anorky. A fight was building up. Nox knew that fighting would be useless here, and DoomBlitza agreed.

"Lads, lads, lads. We've got no reason ta be 'ere. Our Waaagh died when we fought fer dis pathetic spiky umie. But I need ta do dis fer DoomBlitza. If an ork can't respekt 'is bike, den wot kind of an ork iz 'ee?"
He could see Gadnuk coming over to his side again.
"You lads don't 'ave to come. But I promise ya, dere'll be a scrap. Nearly like what you lads got on Gallor Prime. Only betta. Far, far betta. And if you'z lot stay wiv me, I can promise good scraps."

"I'm staying wiv ya, Boss. From da beginnin', to da glorious end." Gadnuk replied, kneeling to Nox.

Satisfied with Gadnuk's loyalty, Nox listened again to DoomBlitza. The engine seemed to purr with far more intensity.

"Hurry lads! We're getting close to dis psyka!"

Gobbles squeaked down to Nox. "Do we knows dis psyka? What does it look like?"

"We'z gonna find out."

-----------------------------------

Bolter rounds and shuriken shards rocketed up and down the corridor. Their shrapnel had peppered the walls, leaving scars in the warp-forged stone. A Space Marine moved to take a shot, only to be brought down crashing into the corpse-strewn walkway. Nothing survived long in the open ground. The Space Marine tried to scramble back to safety, but was ripped apart where he lay.

Archarus' fortress, whilst bare and empty, was a much a warzone or battlefield as the killing fields outside his keep. And even though Korvel had teleported the attack band of humans, post-humans and Eldar as close to Archarus' throne and locus of power as he could, there was a veritable labyrinth between them. A labyrinth full of Archarus' Fleshed.

"Bring them down!" Sheppard yelled, his longcoat whipping in the unnatural breeze. His pistol blasted a chunk out of the stone. The shrapnel blinded one of the Unfleshed, and it roared in a bowl of pain. Sheppard's second shot put it out of it's misery.

"Fine shooting, mon-keigh," Lilliana sang, her alien voice lilting above the chaos. "You may be more useful to us than I thought."

The firepower increased, and some of the guardsmen next to Sheppard were destroyed, their innards painting the walls. Down the corridor, Sheppard noticed two Unfleshed, feeding two chains of ammo belts into an automated autocannon turret.

"Turret! Get back!" His men obeyed, but Lilliana's Eldar stayed where they were. Instead, time and space around Lilliana slowed to a crawl. Her psychic magiks danced from target to target, seeking out the Unfleshed loaders. Once she found them, she twisted the strands of fate, plucking away their hopes of survival with delicate, precise hands. Around her, her Rangers took shots on the gunners. In the light of her success, she failed to notice the two autocannon rounds lazily floating towards her. Korvel did. As the distortion began to disperse, he activated his flickerjump, and appeared behind Lilliana. The rounds were now inches from her face. Korvel flickerjumped again, and dragged Lilliana with him. Time reverted to normal, and a hole was blasted behind where Lilliana had been standing. Instead, she watched with her own eyes as the rounds hit their new target. Across the walkway, the ammo loaders crumpled to the ground, shuriken rounds piercing into their eyes. The autocannon fell silent.

The rest of the Fleshed resumed their firing, uncaring about the loss of their sentry gun. Sheppard tossed in a flash grenade. The mutated abominations of the Fleshed recoiled from the blinding light: they lacked the advanced visuo-compensator that other Astartes were grafted with. Korvel flickerjumped into the midst of the Fleshed. His powerblades swung down, and beheaded one of the shambling Iron Warriors. He moved on to a second target. The Fleshed had recovered faster than he'd hoped, and found himself parrying a direct punch. His powerblades cut through the outstretched limb, washing the pair of them in blood. The Iron Warrior withdrew, clutching the bloody stump. Korvel moved to finish it off, but was knocked down. He felt something in the warp jump generator in his back give, and he looked back at his assailant. A Fleshed hefted a rebar club, and moved to smash it over the Warp Spider's head. The hulking figure's head jerked back, and crumpled on the floor. A second shot sounded, and the other Fleshed collapsed next to Korvel. Commissar Sheppard was advancing up the corridor, his pistol smoking.

"Needed a hand?"

"If I didn't know better, I'd be killing you too."

"Like those two which I had to kill for you?" Sheppard fought to keep a grin off his face. His Paragons had no such qualms, and laughed openly. Korvel was about to flickerjump and silence the upstart human, when he felt Lilliana's calm voice in his head - a still pool in a storm of anger.

"Korvel, do not rise to him. The mortal jests well. Let him think he is in control. We will have the last laugh, together, back aboard the Craftworld. And refrain from flickerjumping, for now, dear. Your pack is compromised."

He enveloped the thought, and rose to his feet, a half-smile on his face. Sheppard seemed surprised at Korvel's smile, but gave it no further action. The party moved forward, moving through the hallways as per Lilliana's directions, until they reached a great onyx door. Aurelius and his fireteam were waiting for them. When the Faustians and Eldar entered their line of sight, the shieldwall that they had set up unfurled, and greeted them. Aurelius and Saren strode out to meet them.

"So we are." Aurelius sighed. His words echoed around the halls.

"And this is what it looks like." Sheppard mused. "It's good to see that your route was good to you."

"No losses, thanks to Saren here." The Librarian gave a respectful nod. "He's had me covered since we linked up. Emperor knows what could have happened to me if he's not been there."

"You survival is essential, Acting-Captain." Saren intoned.

"None more so than any of my brethren. Or those who fight at my side." Aurelius stole a glance at the Eldar. "Farseer, what waits us beyond these doors?"

Lilliana spoke only the truth. "I do not know for sure, Ultramarine. But Archarus will know we are here. And he will not refuse a challenge. The Daemon Prince must not be allowed to survive this battle. And even if we can't kill it, banishment will be enough to save our peoples."

Aurelius and Sheppard shared a look of resigned duty. Sheppard spoke for the two of them.
"We must kill Archarus. We're going in there."

Aurelius went up to the great black door, and tested it. It creaked open on it's hinges, opening it's cavernous maw for them.
"Ultramarines, advance in Testudo formation, take our allies here under our protection."

Sheppard's Paragons took cover behind the Ultramarines' breacher shields and the Testudo closed over them. Lilliana have Aurelius a scornful look.

"Don't expect my Eldar to cower behind your pitiful walls. We will be ready."

"I hope for your sake you are right." Aurelius said, before locked his storm shield to the rest of his brothers, and advancing into the inner sanctum.

Giant stained glass windows of battle and blood looked down over the trespassers. These decorations were not typical of Iron Warriors, but Archarus was no typical Iron Warrior. Here, all his devotion to Khorne was laid out bare.

Candles burnt along the sides of the vast chamber, made of tallow and human fat, erupting wisps of noxious smoke. The walls themselves were fitted with the skulls of all those who had opposed Archarus throughout his campaign of terror. With a few fleeting glances, Aurelius could see human, Eldar, Kroot, even a few Astartes skulls were displayed. A few gaps were present: Aurelius hypothesised that it may have been where the Hybrid skulls had been kept. Above them, writhing daemonic faces leered in the ceiling, contorting the ceramite as they screamed in silence. More flesh-candles hung from great chandeliers, and the skull of a massive whale-like creature hung from it's chains. Ancient banners, with leering daemonic iron faces, watched them pass. However, as the party got closer to the end of the chamber, such decorations became fewer and fewer.

They came to a stop. It was pitch black, the last candle left behind. Aurelius called out from behind his shield.
"Daemon! Your end is nigh! Your crusade of fury is at an end."

There was a chuckle in the blackness. Something stirred.
"Who enters my domain? Who seeks to end the reign of Warsmith Archarus?"

Lilliana spoke up in reply.
"Farseer Lilliana, of Craftworld Ibraesyil. Your end is nigh, spawn of the Warp."

"Foolish Eldar. I slaughtered your kind in droves when I served in the Great Crusade. When I was free from the Imperium's tyranny, I killed hundreds more. As a daemon of the bountiful Khorne, I will wipe your Craftworld from the stars."

"She is not alone. Acting-Captain Hadris Aurelius, son of Ultramar, and Commissar Jack Sheppard, the last loyal lord of Faust, stand against you." Aurelius announced. "Now face us, and end this."

"Gladly. But allow me to lift this veil of darkness and bring you crashing into the true light."

There was the sound of cannons being fired from all around the sanctum. Moments later, the shells slammed against the ceiling and walls, shattering the darkness and bringing chunks of masonry down over the mortals' heads.
"Take cover!" Aurelius yelled, bringing Sheppard under his storm shield. He had a last image of Lilliana erecting a force field admits the raining debris, and a twisted and hulking rising from the ground on huge, fearsome wings. As they were buried alive, he heard the sound of daemonic laughter.

-----------------------------------

“Move! Move! Move!”
Gallus wrenched open the door from his Taurox Prime. His command squad disembarked, hurling frag grenades to cover their exit. Gallus emerged into the lasfire, his Solar Auxilia armour taking a few glancing hits as he blasted away with his plasma pistol. A shot struck him square in the shoulder, and he spun down, crashing to the ground only a few feet away from the nearest trench. Tempestor Secundus Riley grabbed him and dragged the Scion in. His medic began running diagnostics on their commander, as the rest of the command squad began returning fire from within the trench.

“All fine sir. Very mild whiplash, but you’ll be fine.” He returned to his duties. Gallus rose to his feet, and summoned Castella and Riley to his side.

“The bastards are dug in well, the Iron Warriors certainly knew how to build a trench. Give me an update, Riley.”

The Tempestor Secundus shook his head. “The Ultramarines have engaged the Tallarn forces instead. Our plasma and melta weaponry will be wasted on these guardsmen, who seem very well dug in. Opening casualties are high, around 20% killed before they reached the trenches.”

“Anything else to add, Castella?”

“Not much,” the other Scion barked. “troop transports are at increased risk if they wait for us. I advise we pull them out and prepare for evacuation if necessary. Current losses indicate that Flavion and Ashraf’s sections have taken the bulk of casualties. They’re probably all dead. No word of how other Tempestors are doing.”

Gallus noted Riley’s sigh of relief when Sara’s name wasn’t called out. He would have pointed out to the Secundus that the battle was not yet over, but he held the thought.
“And word from Tempestor Atellus? Did his wing eliminate the left flank survivors?”

“No word, ser. His forces engaged over half an hour ago, with no contact since.”

“Understood.” Gallus gave his orders. “We continue with our mission; advance through the trenches, kill anything that stands in our way. If you can safely take a prisoner, do so, we can always mind-wipe them into our ranks.”
The two Scions saluted, and rejoined their fireteams. The rest of Gallus’ section formed up around him.
“On my mark, toss frags. We go over and take the next trench.” He waited until a man from each of his platoons had a grenade ready, then gave the order. He heard a dull crump from the grenades, and earth rained over them. Gallus was already over the trench, and sprinting towards the Faustian line. The lasfire that met them was weakened, but still potent. He saw a handful of Scions go down before Gallus leapt into the Faustian’s trench. His plasma pistol took the head off of an unfortunate guardsman, and before the others could react, Gallus had smashed another’s head to pulp with his power fist. All along the trench line, Scions descended upon the Faustians, hotshot fire ripping through flak armour like paper. The sons of Faust reacted quickly, stabbing back at the Scions with bayonets. Gallus felt one jab into his neck armour. The armour turned aside the blade, but didn’t stop another one from piercing his arm. He whipped around, bashing the face of his attacker with his plasma pistol. The Faustian stumbled backwards. Two of his comrades raised their lasrifles at Gallus, and prepared to fire. One of Gallus’ bodyguard pulled his plasma gun around just in time to take out the two Faustians. They were incinerated in their armour, letting lasgun rounds loose into the sky. Gallus’ success was short lived. The plasma gunner had overheated the weapon in his desperation to save Gallus, and the weapon began steaming, superheating the air around it. The Tempestor Prime shouted a warning, but it was too late. The plasma gun detonated, tossing Gallus aside, and instantly killing the Scion who wielded it.

Gallus hauled himself upright. The Cadians and Faustians were making the Scions pay for every step of the way, even more so than Gallus would have admitted. The rest of his section moved up the trench, turning up a side trench that led deeper into a Faustian-held trench. Halfway down the trench, the Faustians met them. Both forces opened fire. The Faustian forces had certainly been drilled well by Pavus and Sheppard, and pulled back rank by rank as their lasguns tore into the Scions. Gallus slided up to the side of the trench and added to the enfilade with his plasma pistol. Whilst his men’s superior armour could keep them alive and advancing, the Faustian’s knowledge of the trenches and simple weight of fire was keeping the 85th suppressed. His own reliance on high-risk, high-reward weaponry was proving a massive flaw. Hot-shot rounds were undeniably effective at tearing through the flak armour, but when he had seen the tenth trooper killed by his malfunctioning lasgun, either by jamming or forced explosion, he called out for his vox-officer.

“Send command out to all 85th units, discard hot-shot weaponry as soon as possible, and scavenge safer weapons from the dead. Allow section leaders to let troopers with good fire discipline to keep their hotshots.”

Gallus’ men erected man-portable aegis sections up, barging past the front ranks to deploy them. The Faustian units pulled back, sensing a reprieve. He could hear the complaints of his men about using inferior traitor weaponry, but Gallus ignored their grunts. Either they adapted, or they died. Gallus’ vox-bead activated. Tempestor Secundus Castella spoke to him.

“++…heavy fire, Tempes…ike a Cadian veteran detach…’re pinning them down…eed fire support requi…++”

Gallus remobilised his men, leading the charge down the Faustian trench to Castella’s position. According to tactical displays, the last pocket of resistance from the rebels was only a few trenches away, and putting up heavy resistance. He rounded a corner, and was met by a torrent of promethium coursing down the trench. Gallus ducked into a side tunnel, feeling the promethium lick his armour. Looking back, he watched as some of the men behind him were cooked by the heavy flamer. The rest of his section recoiled away, and took cover. The flamer roared again, sweeping the trench. Every time the Tempestor was about to rush out and engage the Faustians, another firesweep singed his chest. From the other side of the trench, his men battlesigned that the Faustians were just over fifty metres down the trench. At least, what Gallus thought they were signing. Gallus signed for them hold position and assault from the trench surface, but stopped when he heard sound of bloody melee from just down the trench.

He peered around, and was shocked to see Faustians fighting amongst eachother. In the centre of the combat, a huge man wielding a massive broadsword was hacking through other Faustians. The man wore black armour, like the other Faustians alongside him. Gallus emerged from his foxhole, and smashed the flamer bearer in the face with his power fist. Surrounded from both ends, the rebel Faustians stood no chance. As his own Scions looted the dead, and shared a lho stick with the loyal Faustians, Gallus raised his helmet’s beaver, and approached the giant of a man.

“Tempestor Prime Gallus Tauron. Thanks for that. The rebel scum had us real pinned down there.”

The gruff man rapped his own black armour. Now Gallus was up closer, he saw that the armour had once been the colour of the other Faustian troops, but had been stripped away to it’s black primer.

“Captain Sandor Braddock. You might know me as the Hound.”

“The Hound himself? Pavus’ own? I didn’t expect you to be on the ground.”

“I’m making sure that the last of Sheppard’s lot don’t make it off this planet. Kassani’s coming down after we clear this trench.” Braddock replied nonchalantly. “Your men and Nasira’s have done well. The Tallarn are coming to aid you soon. Strikeforce Praetoria made them suffer, but they couldn’t hold out forever. The Ultramarines are either dead or about to be mindwiped.”

“We’re mindwiping them?” Gallus queried. “Why are we mindwiping prisoners?”

“Because of Kassani’s orders. We can’t kill all of them. The men you killed on the left flank can be written off as Iron Warrior artillery or a tragic misfire. We can’t do that here. We’re sending them back to Macragge, and making them think that they were attacked by Iron Warriors in the trenches. That should keep the Space Marines off our backs.”

Gallus’ hands clenched to fists. He didn’t like the idea of them being spared. The Space Marines had already afforded too much special attention in the crusade, but orders were orders. Regardless, the Faustians accompanied Gallus’ men to where Castella and Riley had been pinned down. In a hollowed out ammo dump, the Cadians and Faustians were making their last stand. There was about a company of Faustians and a platoon of Cadian veterans left, pouring torrents of plasma, flamer and lasfire into their attackers. Gallus pulled out an omniscope and searched for their commander. No commissar could be found. The “noble” Commissar Sheppard must have fled. Instead, a Cadian brandishing a sword in one hand and carrying the banner of the Cadian 13th in the other stood in their midst. A shotgun hung from a strap around his body. Gallus’ HUD identified the man immediately – Colonel Halter.

The Tempestor Prime beckoned over his vox-officer, and gave out orders for the remnants of the 85th.
“Halter is mine. If we subdue him, the rest of the survivors will be easier to capture. Suppress them with frags and smoke, but don’t kill unless you have to. Captain Braddock’s Faustians are with us, and his forces, alongside my own and Riley’s sections will charge the rebels. Disarm and overpower, but do not kill. We don’t want complete destruction.”

Braddock snarled at Gallus, but sheathed his broadsword all the same. Gallus deactivated his power fist, and held up his fist. The Scions readied their grenades, calibrating fuse length based off of Gallus’ analysis. The Tempestor Prime brought down his clenched fist, and the rest of his men tossed their frags and smokes. Gallus was already powering towards the rebel emplacement, weaving past lasfire. Moments later, the grenades sent them down for cover, choking on the smoke. Gallus was within them, shouldering aside Cadians and Faustians with his Solar Auxilia armour, aimed like a spear for Halter. Behind him, his Scion section engaged the guardsmen, beating them to the ground and subduing them. The guardsmen were beginning to recover, and bring their weapons to bear on the Scions. Gallus punched one in the face, and pushed him into his comrades, sending them falling like dominoes. In the middle of the defenders, Halter saw Gallus charging for him, and brandished his power sword.

Gallus erupted into Halter’s range, and the Cadian lashed out at him. The Tempestor dodged the swing, and tackled Halter to the ground. The Cadian’s other arm remained outstretched, fighting to keep the Cadian banner from touching the bottom of the trench. Gallus could feel Halter weakening. With a grunt, Halter rammed the base of the banner into Gallus’ back. Gallus roared in agony as it pierced his armour, and Halter pushed the Tempestor off him. Panting, the two commanders backed away, and Halter planted the banner into the ground. Gallus’ blood still trickled down its shaft.

“Why did you do it?” Halter shouted at Gallus. “We’re on the same side! Our fight is with Archarus, not eachother!”

“Pavus was the best hope this crusade had! And you threw it all away to support that weak fool in orbit! You relied on the Astartes, and look where they got you! Where was the support that Zonand gave us on Julla? The Tallarn and the 85th were abandoned there, and no-one came for us!”

“You handled it-”

“Our men died! All whilst the attention was focused on the noble Astartes and their daring exploits dying to the Hybrids. Pavus knew what to do, and he was killed for it!”

Halter and Gallus were circling eachother. Neither took his eyes off the other. Halter’s sword was bared to the electrified air, whereas Gallus’ fist was deactivated, yet clenched in a bone-shattering grip.

“Pavus caused this! He made this happen, and usurped his power to do it! Look around you!” Halter spread his arms open and gestured to the chaos around them. “Pavus did this!”

Gallus watched as the rebels and his Scions brawled in the melee. The Cadian and Faustians were fighting back with bayonets, yet the Scions’ carapace armour protected them from the knives and blades. Instead, they battered the guardsmen with armoured knees and elbows, smashing them to the ground with gloved gauntlets, or simply kicking them as they were sprawled on the ground. Gallus returned his gaze to Halter.
“I see what you brought upon yourself, Colonel. I give you this one chance to submit to me, and call your forces to compliance, or I will use force to take it.”

“That’ll be the day Tallarn freezes over.” Halter flicked the switch on his power sword, and the weapon was ignited with its armour piercing energy field. He gave the Scion no time to react, and thrust towards him. Gallus batted aside the attack with his power fist, and made a riposte of his own. Halter sidestepped it. Gallus felt himself back on the Schola training grounds, on the duelling courts. Parry, riposte, break. Lunge, block, push, swing, away. Halter had the edge, his sword giving him extra length from his opponent. However, Gallus had his power fist and, even unpowered, could withstand the blows from the power sword and block the Cadian’s attacks.

Gallus backhanded a strike from Halter, and gave himself some room to check himself. He had been nicked in several places, and was bleeding through a dozen cuts. He knew what Halter was doing. Wearing him down, to make the final strike easier. Gallus sucked in another breath, and charged again at the Cadian. This time, Halter didn’t blow or dodge as Gallus expected. Instead, he held out his sword, right onto where Gallus was charging. Too late, Gallus realised his folly, and the sword was inside him. With a flick of the wrist, Halter dragged the sword through Gallus’ gut, leaving the Scion to slump onto the floor. Gallus looked through gritted teeth as he tried to hold in his spilling innards. Halter looked down on the Tempestor.

“You didn’t have to do this. It didn’t have to be like this. You brought this on yourself.”
Halter readied himself for the decapitating strike. Gallus flicked the switch on his power fist, sparking it to life with it’s own energy field, and launched himself at Colonel Halter. The first punch smashed the sword out of his hand, leaving the Cadian open and defenceless. Gallus gave Halter no mercy.

He swung with the fist, and broke through the Cadian’s chest, pulverising the bone and liquefying his organs. Colonel Halter fell to the ground, blood spilling and pumping from his ruined chest. Gallus pulled the Cadian 13th banner from the ground, and draped the cloth in Halter’s lifeblood before planting the shaft in the Cadian’s body. The stained red banner waved feebly in the dying wind before slumping on its pole.
Gallus Tauron fell to his knees. The battle was dying around him, with his Scions overpowering the futile resistance the Cadians and Faustians offered. Gallus’ medic ran to him, and began bandaging the gaping wound in his abdomen. On the lip of the trench, mounted warriors watched over, toting lasrifles. They wore headscarves, ones which seemed identical to the ones wrapped around some of them. The bandages were soaking in blood, similar in hue to the claret of the sun behind them. The banner of a rider wielding a scimitar and lasgun charging over sandy plains rippled in the sunlight. The Tallarn 97th had arrived.

One of the riders dismounted, and Braddock moved towards them. He spoke some words, but Gallus heard nothing. He appeared to laugh, then the pair walked over to Gallus. The Tallarn removed her facescarf, and Gallus recognised the almond skin and dark eyes.

“Greetings, Tempestor Prime. It appears you took care of Halter for me.” Nasira smiled. It was hard to tell if he was being sincere or not, but Gallus went along with it.

“His men are restrained. No sign of Sheppard, or his Paragons. How did your battle with Strikeforce Praetoria fare?”

“They fought hard. I expected nothing less from Ultramarines. My riders swarmed them, and levelled a ruined building on their heads. They will be mind-wiped as per Kassani’s will. The Acting-Captain was not present, or his witch and retinue. Losses were heavy, but we won. And that’s all that matters, Tempestor, is it not?” She smiled, like a serpent. Gallus could feel the sweet venom in her voice, the voice that led Colonel Amir to his death. He became immediately too conscious of his vulnerability. A noise far off of jet engines drew Nasira’s, Gallus’ and Braddock’s attention.

A Valkyrie descended from the sky, unmarked and unblemished. It kicked up clouds of dust and debris, before landing in the basin of earth. The rear ramp hissed open, and a small cadre of soldiers crawled out. Captain Kassani, still wearing the cap of the ‘Wrath of Faust’s led the delegation, with Kael Norra at his side. A motley crew of mercenaries accompanied him. Gallus swore he saw a Dark Eldar under a pile of rags, and forced his suppression of hate. A fierce-looking Kroot shot Gallus an alien glare of hostility, and Gallus tore his gaze to the ground. The Tempestor Prime rose to his feet, and stood to attention.

“Friends! We stand at the field of victory.” Kassani declared. “Zonand is dead.”

“Who takes his mantle then?” Nasira said. “I trust you will, Cadian?”

Kassani shook his head. A wry smile was appearing on his face. “On the contrary. My work is done. I avenged Pavus – the ones who opposed him can no longer do so. The Lord General will be remembered.” Kassani seemed at peace. “But not through me. The stars call to me again. My previous mercenary contracter, Nihilus, may he hunt forever on, is dead. May Aurelius’ hand be cursed. I am in command of his mercenaries now. I cannot become the Lord General. In fact, I was rather hoping one of you would be able to take up the mantle.”

Nasira was the first to break the silence that fell.
“Myself and Tempestor Prime Gallus here are the highest ranking officers present. And I don’t think Gallus here is capable of accepting command.”

Gallus’ voice turned to fury.
“Not capable! I conquered Julla where your Tallarn threw themselves at the defences and were butchered! I took this trench, and destroyed the last remnants of the Cadian 13th and Faustian forces! My actions annihilated the Ultramarine 3rd, Histans and the Death Ravens! I have accomplished more than you have in your entire career, you upstart grox-brained…”

Too late, Gallus realised the hundreds of lasguns pointing down at him from the rim of the trench. He looked back at Nasira, open mouthed, and saw the satisfied smile on her face, and realised the extent of her plans and schemes, her plotting and power plays. She had allowed Halter to rally and whip the defenders into a frenzy. She had made the Tallarn 97th deploy via reserve, and let the Scions and Faustian confederate units take the casualties. She let Amir over-extert himself in battle, and her only real battle was against a depleted and isolated Strikeforce Praetoria. One that her nearly full strength Tallarn could easily defeat. And now she had absolute control and dominance over Gallus’ half strength and weary 85th Battalion. A perfect checkmate.

“I… retract my statement.” Gallus growled. “Nasira’s achievements are suitable.”

“More than suitable, I’d say.” Kassani smirked. Gallus ground his teeth in frustration. “Nasira has done what Pavus admired most, wouldn’t you agree, Captain Braddock?”

“This is true, my lord.” Braddock’s face was unreadable.

“Thus, with what power I have as Zonand’s executioner, I bestow the title of Lord General of the Charadon Crusade upon you, Colonel Nasira. I bow to your authority.”

Kassani knelt, as did his mercenaries. The Tallarn lowered their heads in respect, as did many of Gallus’ own Scions. Riley and Castella looked on, not sure if to defy the order with their commander, or obey Kassani. Gallus swallowed his pride and made the decision for them. He stumbled to his knees, ignoring the burning pain in his abdomen. Nasira’s face was one of utter success, and seemed to glow brighter than the sun of Grimdi itself.

Nasira bode them to rise, and spoke to Kassani, Gallus and Braddock.
“The Cadian 13th is destroyed, erased from the battle, like the Histan 97th, Death Ravens and Ultramarine 3rd.”

“Actually, reports state that a number of them escaped in stolen Arvus Lighters.” Gallus couldn’t help but snap back. He neglected to mention how his men had attempted pursuit.

“No matter. We put out message that they fled and went AWOL. No force, not even the Ultramarines themselves, would dare invite that much scrutiny if they attempted to disprove it. After all, I am Lord General, after Zonand was killed in a freak Necron ambush. They are no longer relevant to us. As are the Faustians. A rebuilding will be needed.” She gestured to Braddock.

“Lord General, I feel that I cannot serve any longer as a soldier in the Imperium’s armies.” Braddock said bluntly. “If you don’t mind me saying, feth the Crusade. Feth the Lord General. Feth the Imperium. I want your leave to join Kassani’s mercenaries.”

“And if I don’t give it to you?”

“Then I’ll claim it by force. Successfully or not, that depends.”

“Oh?” She raised an arched eyebrow.

“How quickly can you react, Lord General?”

She smiled. “You have my leave. Kassani, what say you?”

“He’s welcome.” Kassani declared. “We have need of a man with your skills. You’ll fit in just fine, Hound.” Braddock padded to Kassani’s side, followed by the four of his black-armoured Faustians. A wolfish grin stood out on the man’s face.

“So, it leaves Sheppard, wherever he is.” Nasira announced. “He may never serve again, but we don’t need him to. We can leave him on Trisburg, in charge of training the next generations of Faustian regiments. After all, Pavus wouldn’t have us kill him. Not unless we had to.”

Gallus mumbled a reply. “Only if he complies.”

“That’s his choice, Tempestor. The question is: where is our Commissar, and our elusive Acting-Captain?”

Nasira’s question was answered by a crash of artillery and shells levelling a section of the Iron Warrior fortress behind them. The temple-looking structure on the top of the fortress crumbled apart, as the commanders looked on kilometres away.

Nasira barked out her first command as Lord General.
“Tempestor Prime Gallus. Prepare a Valkyrie squadron.”

-----------------------------------

Archarus stalked through the rubble. His trap had worked wonderfully. His artillery had shelled his sanctum, trapping his would-slayers under piles of rubble and debris. Even though those same artillery pieces had since been destroyed, and his Legions of Iron Warriors were fighting against the rest of Craftworld Iybraesil at the base of the keep, it mattered not. This duel would be enough to claim his victory. All he had needed was to level the sanctum on their heads. The daemon prince knew that it wouldn’t be enough to slay the mortals, but it would make slaughtering them and taking their skulls for Khorne easier. His cloven hooves stalked through the freshly settled dust. In front of him, his prey stared at the wanton destruction, and the towering daemon.

“Not so confident, are we, Farseer?” Archarus snorted. Lilliana gripped onto her witchblade. The extertion of being so close to one of the daemonic was testing her resistance – not to mention the effort her force-shield had drained. A Warp Spider toted a pair of powerblades, testing their weight. Archarus grinned at this ‘warrior’s feeble display of dominance. The few of her coven that still stood watched the once-Iron Warrior with frantic eyes. Archarus could smell their reek of fear.

“Your blight upon this sector ends now, warpspawn.” She remained impassive, but Archarus felt the edge of doubt on her tongue. She extended a slender arm, and her followers opened fire on the daemon. Archarus felt the razor edge of shuriken rounds bury into his twisted flesh. It was useless.

“Like the bite of a flea.” He chuckled. The Eldar continued to fire at him. Time to end the nuisance. “Now face me! I am Perturabo’s unstoppable hammer!” He dashed forward with unnatural speed, and swung his tainted crozius at the rangers. It was hurled aside like a rag doll, blood staining it’s cloak. Spars of bone jutted from it’s chest. The daemon prince attacked again, bringing the crozius low. The ranger tossed aside her long rifle, and rolled under the sweep. She began to run away from Archarus. With a snarl, his clawed hand shot out, and grabbed her, He felt her blood spill over his claws, and pulled the ranger in. The creature struggled, losing more and more blood. “I am Khorne’s merciless wrath!” He bellowed into her face. It continued to struggle helplessly. Disgusted by it’s weakness, Archarus tossed the Eldar aside and moved on to it’s new target. A crystallised round embedded itself in Archarus’ neck. Enraged, he faced the shooter. The last ranger had scattered, and was plinking off shots at the Iron Warrior. Another round sunk into his bulging arm. “I am the spear of the Blood God!” Archarus roared, and charged towards the ranger. He made it halfway before he felt himself run into monofilament wire. The razor-sharp strands sunk through his fleshmetal epidermis, and Archarus tore the stuff off him. The Warp Spider danced away from him, kiting the daemon. He tried to swat the Eldar with his crozius, but it flickered out of the way. He snarled and prepared to strike again.

Suddenly, his body was encompassed by arcing bio-lightning. He howled in pain, feeling the cruel witch’s touch on him. His hateful eyes fell on Lilliana. The Farseer’s hands projected vile sorceries at Archarus, wrapping him in the psychic energy. Archarus willed his body to be that of iron, and bearing the pain, stormed towards Lilliana. The Farseer realised too late her folly, and broke concentration. The living lightning ceased from her fingertip, and she scrambled aside, just avoiding Archarus’ smash. Monofilament webs wrapped around Archarus, digging into his daemonic flesh, but he cared not. His gaze had been drawn, and the Eldar witch would suffer. Lilliana looked up just in time to see Archarus’ crozius hammer down at her-

Korvel’s arms pulled her out of the way, and she saw into the warp as she was dragged through his flickerjump with him. She thanked him, whispering into his ear as he disentangled himself from her, and engaged Archarus.
Korvel was tiny compared the daemon prince. He sank his powerblades into the beast’ haunch, raking past before slipping away. He was untouchable, inches away from being swatted or smashed by Archarus’ crozius. For a moment, a fleeting moment, Farseer Lilliana thought he could slay the daemon himself. Korvel materialised on top to the daemon, and hacked at the beast’s neck, driving Archarus down to a knee. Archarus clutched at his shredded neck. The Warp Spider materialised again, and went to strike the beast’s foul heart.
Korvel’s blades met against solid fleshmetal. He tried to activate his flickerjump. He remained put. Korvel’s heart froze. His eyes widened. It had failed! Before Korvel could react at all, Archarus’ hands grabbed the Eldar and plucked him from the ground. Archarus levelled the struggling Warp Spider to his eyes, and stared him right in the eye.
“Iron Within,” growled Archarus. “Iron Without.” He gestured to his unyielding fleshmetal. Korvel was able to string out a babble of uncoherent words, before Lilliana entered his mind one last time. He felt her embrace through Archarus’ iron grip, and saw only her as his head was swallowed into the daemon’s maw. Korvel never felt Archarus’ teeth sever his torso from his waist.

-------------------------------------

When humans experience loss of a loved one, their mind can experience critical meltdowns, rushes of adrenaline and general states of hysteria. It has been recorded that some people have died from this “heartbreak”, and in many cases, contributes to depression and mental scarring, or refusal to seek companionship in such a way. This human response is capable of rendering even the hardiest of souls into a weeping mess.
The Eldar connection is far stronger. The Eldar race is far more psychically attuned than a human, and to some extent, the souls of two Eldar become literally one over time. The two Eldar become linked in a way far stronger than humans, far beyond the concept of mere soulmates. This soul gap ensures that a soul may live on after the body dies. However, such a bond is never taken lightly – the death of one half of the pair spells utter emotional chaos for the other, as their own soul is taken with their dying partner.
Lilliana experienced this as Archarus ripped Korvel apart.

-------------------------------------

She sank to her knees, silent tears running down her face. Words died in her throat, and her vision was black. Archarus tossed the other half of Korvel to the battle raging below. His body disappeared amidst the throng of Eldar and Iron Warriors.
“You should be glad, xeno,” Archarus said through bloody teeth. “Slaanesh cannot claim what Khorne has taken.”

“Khorne will be having you next.”
Another voice grabbed Archarus’ attention. Acting-Captain Aurelius stood out of the rubble. His artificer armour was both daubed in blood and dulled in dust. Commissar Sheppard emerged from under his storm shield. He was bleeding from a cut to his head, and his cap was missing, but otherwise, the man was fine. Archarus charged towards the new adversaries, bringing his crozius high above his head.

Lilliana unleashed her untrammelled psychic potential at Archarus. Korvel’s death coursed through her veins, overloaded her synapses and ravaged her mind. More bio-lightning sprang unhindered from her fingertips, bringing Archarus to his knees. Her pure power tore Archarus’ wings apart, leaving them little more than scraps on bone. The Iron Warrior lashed out uncontrollably, leaving furrows in the stone as his claws dug into the floor.

"Yield to me, child of Khorne!" she commanded, driving the daemon down. She could feel her fingers beginning to suffer feedback, and her armour was becoming encased in psychic hoarfrost. Lilliana heard creatures of the warp reaching for her exposed soul, swarming like sharks in the tides of the Empyrean. With the last ounce of her strength, she blasted her comrades' weaponry with her own arcane enchantment, honing their edge against Archarus. Just as she felt a daemon's teeth caress her body, she shut off from the warp and slumped over, her reserves spent and fatigued.

Smoke billowed from Archarus' ruined form. His wings were gone, shredded by the psychic lightning. His black eyes unfurled, and fell upon the Eldar witch. Rising up, he staggered towards the catatonic Farseer. Archarus rose his crozius, about to finish off Lilliana. Aurelius fired a shot from Litura, knocking the daemon prince off balance. Archarus turned to face the Ultramarine, and swung, smashing onto his storm shield. Aurelius recoiled, backing away from the daemon. Laughing, Archarus pressed the advantage. The Ultramarine was growing weary, slugging off devastating hammerblows from the daemon's crozius. Gripping his weapon in two giant hands, Archarus smashed into Aurelius.
This time, the Acting-Captain couldn't resist the attack.

His shield skittered away across the masonry, and Aurelius clutched his battered arm close to his chest. The Ultramarine backed off, wielding his paragon blade in two hands.
“You know, mortal, I probably knew the owner of that blade. Let’s see, shall I take a closer look?” Archarus lunged at Aurelius, who ducked under the daemon’s maul, and hacked down at the Iron Warrior’s arm. Archarus admired the cut, and licked off the blood that spilled from his wound with a forked tongue.
“Yes, a fine blade.” Archarus chuckled, admiring the razor cut. “A fine blade indeed. An heirloom weapon, not crafted since the Great Crusade itself. If I’m not mistaken, this paragon blade was crafted for Praetor Ivocatus Auraious Cesan. A bodyguard of your Primarch Guilliman. Tell me I’m wrong.”

Aurelius gritted his teeth. “How do you know that, traitor?”

“You said it yourself – traitor. I knew Ivocatus, a fine warrior indeed. I fought him myself at the Battle of the Iron Cage. He was skilled. But not skilled enough. If I was able to slay Ivocatus then, you will be no match for me, weakling. You insult his memory, Acting-Captain Aurelius.”

Aurelius roared, and slashed at the daemon prince. Archarus’ words were breaking through the Ultramarine’s thin layer of calm, and incited him to mad violence. Aurelius sliced down, ducked between the daemon’s legs, and hacked at Archarus’ abdomen. Too fast for the creature, the daemon’s ribbed muscle parted to a river of blood. The Acting-Captain continued to weave through the Warsmith’s defences, raking another strike down it’s winged back. Archarus snarled and faced Aurelius. The Ultramarine made another sweep, his Primarch’s name on his lips. Archarus batted aside the sword with his crozius, and swiped Aurelius aside with his tail. The Space Marine clattered across the rubble, still grasping the sword. He lay still and unmoving. Archarus revelled in his victory, laughing to his dark gods.
“Not even Ivocatus could stand up to me!”

“Ivocatus didn’t have me.” Archarus turned his attention to Commissar Sheppard. The guardsman had salvaged a bolt pistol from the wreckage, and was toting it as an Astartes might carry a bolter. On his back, the commissar’s chainsword hung ready. The human wasn’t even half of Archarus size.

“You think that you stand a chance against me? I have conquered entire worlds! And you dare oppose my will?”

“Pretty much.” Sheppard’s finger pulled on the trigger, sending explosive bolter rounds sparking up the daemon’s fleshmetal. Archarus ignored the fusillade, and charged towards Sheppard. The commissar rolled under the daemon’s legs, and emptied the entire magazine into Archarus’ exposed jaw. The Iron Warrior snarled, ignoring the torn flesh, and tried to stomp on the guardsman. Sheppard’s chainsword came up to meet the descending foot, sawing into the beast’s flesh. He left the whirring blade in Archarus’ foot, and sprinted for Aurelius. Archarus roared in agony as he ground the chainblade to dust under his cloven feet, and staggered towards Sheppard. The commissar was trying to drag Aurelius to his feet.

“He won’t get back up, mortal. Or maybe he might. You certainly won’t be around long enough to know.”
Sheppard unhooked a frag grenade from Aurelius’ belt and hurled it at Archarus desperately. Archarus barely cocked his head to avoid the explosion. His irresistible march didn’t slow or stop.
“I admire your tenacity, insect. In my armies, you would have a bloody future. Isn’t that what you want? The Long War, unceasing, resolute, iron duty? It defines you, Sheppard. Calls to you. What more could you want than unending war?”

The daemon’s words, tainted and foul as they were, held purchase on Sheppard. After all, this is what his entire life had been before-
Petra. She was on Trisburg, looking after her child. His child. Their child. Their child with the golden eyes, the one who would bring so much joy to both of them. Not the visceral, exhaustive joy of the battlefield, but the simply joy of creation. Not destruction – creation.

Sheppard stood up to Archarus.
“I have what I need. And I won’t let you take it from me.”

“Don’t say I didn’t offer it to you.” Archarus rumbled. He must only have been a few strides away from the Faustian when he stopped in his tracks. Sheppard wasn’t staring at him – rather, behind him. He smelt the foul stench of the alien behind him, and craned his thick neck to look back.

“Are ya gonna give us dat offer?” Nox spat. His boyz were with him. “We’z came ‘ere for a psyka ta kill, but I’ve just found a better fing ta crump!”

“Pathetic greenskin. You can’t even follow simple instructions. You think your debased apes can match me? Not even the finest of Craftworld Iybraesil or the Imperium can stand up to my divine power!”

“What about me?” A figure shifted out of the rubble, moving aside the debris with it’s heavy Terminator plate. Archarus recognised it as Saren, the Ultramarine Librarian. He seemed to flicker in and out of reality, warping the stone around him. Some of the smaller chunks actively floated away from the psyker. Archarus bellowed – he felt Khorne’s hatred of the witch grow.

“I fink we’z found our psyka!” Nox revved his bike. Much to his dismay, instead of a scream of fury, the bike gave a confused roar. Nox shared the expression, with puzzlement spreading across it’s bestial face, to which Saren grinned.

“Did you not expect this, Annuban? I see that your banishment hasn’t left you completely alone. Did you set this greenskin up to kill me? Does this form confuse you?”

“This form? Librarian, speak straight!” Sheppard’s voice felt out of place amidst these beasts of war. He hoped Aurelius or even Lilliana would wake. The four stood in a square, with Sheppard and Nox’ squad opposite eachother whilst Saren and Archarus flanked them.

Saren turned to face the Commissar. His feet were beginning to rise from the rocks.
“I am sorry, Commissar. It was necessary to claim my prize. Do not stand between me and the Acting-Captain when I am finished here. Now Annuban – witness my true form!”
The Librarian’s armour began to warp and shift, it’s flat flanks contorting and rising into peaks and spikes. Where once it was light azure blue, the hue of his armour was a menacing dark blue. His helm rose up, forming four great spires above his head. The robes wrapping around his chest snaked around him, as if they had a life of their own. They slithered onto his back, and sprouted furs and hairs, and the Iron Halo on his back melted and shifted into a great mane of iron spikes running down his Terminator armour. Saren, if he could even go by that name, was a full three feet above the ground, raising winds and larger rocks with his psychic overspill. The rocks formed an arch behind the Terminator, and the Sorcerer crashed back down to land. Sheppard felt a strange chill from the figure. The ork’s warbike began to growl at him. A sinister cackle rose from the Sorcerer.
“Remember me?”

“Foul psyker! Khorne will have your head on a pike! What name will I send you to him with?”

“Your Blood God already knows of me, Warsmith Archarus. You will only know me as the Sorcerer.” The Sorcerer extended his arms, and a shimmering force field erected itself around the four. Nox’s boyz were trapped on the exterior of the field, away from their boss. Sheppard found himself inside the shield, with Aurelius. Lilliana’s supine body was on the other end – far out of the orks’ reach.

Archarus spat and ground his foot into the rubble.
“Are you mad, psyker? You have trapped yourself in here with me, and nothing shall save you from Khorne’s wrath now!”

Archarus charged at the Remnants Sorcerer, lowering his horns as if to spear the Sorcerer on them. Nox drove straight into the daemon, his warbike screeching.
“Ee’s mine! You ain’t getting your stinkin’ claws on ‘im!” He rammed his glaive into the daemon’s side, resulting in a jet of blood. Enraged, Archarus smashed the greenskin off his bike, sending Nox flying. The bike carried on, heedless of Nox, and went straight for the Sorceror.

Sheppard watched as the two conflicts spiralled around eachother. Nox and his bike switched opponents effortlessly, with Nox duelling with the two Chaos champions, blocking Archarus’ crozius and the Sorcerer’s force maul. The ork was like a whirlwind of green energy, striking like a viper at the two heavily armoured enemies. DoomBlitza sped around them, ploughing into them with unstoppable force. The Sorcerer would simply sidestep the rampaging bike, only to move on and attack Archarus. Archarus, towering over the lot of them, would slam his crozius before the bike, forcing it to weave past him, and frantically tried to crush the two combatants clashing beneath his feet. Sheppard was helpless – unarmed, save for a combat knife – and tried to stay clear out of the way.

Suddenly, the bike spied him. It glowered at him, as if it were alive, and sped at him. The commissar had no choice but to dodge, rolling out of the way. As he got back up, he felt the swing of Archarus’ crozius brush past him. His heart raced. Sheppard plunged his combat dagger into Archarus’ shin. Archarus howled, and the Sorcerer smashed his maul into the daemon’s gut. Archarus kicked Sheppard away, sending him sprawling. His head collided with a rock, and the world went dark.

-------------------------------------

Two giants of war filled Sheppard’s view as his eyes opened: one of dark blue and the other of darkest red. His vision swam into focus. Archarus leered down at him, desperately straining with something. Sheppard saw his crozius, coruscating with chaotic energies hanging over his head. A second weapon, a flickering maul, was between the massive weapon and Sheppard’s head. The Sorcerer stood over Sheppard, his Terminator armour straining and creaking with the pressure.

“Move, human!” The Sorcerer growled at Sheppard. He didn’t need telling twice. Sheppard scrabbled over the rocky surface, away from the chaos. As he picked himself up, he noticed Nox lying under his smoking bike. At first, he thought the ork was dead, until he heard it’s indignant cries. He ignored the greenskin, and kept running. He chanced a glance at the Sorcerer. Archarus backhanded the psyker with a massive hand, sending him sprawling. His hateful gaze fell on Sheppard, and a prehensile tail darted out at him. Sheppard didn’t have time to react as the limb wrapped around his left leg, and crushed it in an iron vice. He screamed and felt to the ground. His ragged leg trailed on the ground. Archarus limped towards Sheppard. The daemon was cut in several places, leaking ethereal vapours and ichor. Sheppard wondered how long he’d been unconscious for, then realised how irrelevant it was. He could feel Archarus’ reeking breath now.
“You… puny… mortal…” laboured Archarus. “No-one to save you now… In the name of Khorne…”
Sheppard could hear daemonic chanting ringing in his ears. He didn’t understand a word. His death approached.

“…I send you to him!”

A blue figure tackled Archarus to the ground, aiming straight for the head. Archarus fell back, away from Sheppard. The man was astride the daemon, savagely attacking it. The iridescent sword in his hand and the white sigil were all Sheppard needed to see.
Acting-Captain Aurelius hacked at the daemon’s arms, severing the unnatural muscle from the bone. Archarus bellowed his fury, and snapped at the Ultramarine. His tail whipped around, and plunged into Aurelius’ back. The Space Marine ignored the wound, as if in a trance. Sheppard grabbed his combat knife from out of Archarus, and hacked off the tail. The appendage writhed, spraying black gore. Aurelius was impervious, fighting like a man possessed, avoiding Archarus' vicious teeth that snapped at him, or the ones that spawned from his infernal armour.

"Coward! I taste the stench of the warp on you, Aurelius!" Archarus bellowed. His arms were limp at his sides, the muscles severed. Aurelius glanced back at Sheppard. The Ultramarine's eyes were dark and crazed, with blood running over his face like a mask. His face was contorted into a grin of pain and anger. Sheppard felt a momentary pang of fear for the man he once knew.
"Sheppard! Take my gun and shoot the heart!"Aurelius tossed Litura to Sheppard. The grav-pistol was lighter than Sheppard thought, and the Commissar clambered onto the daemon's chest. Sure enough, Archarus' iron heart beat in his breast, exposed by Korvel.

With a final effort, Archarus chomped down on Aurelius. His savage fangs burst through the Ultramarine's artificer plate. Aurelius yelled in pain as the daemon's serrated teeth dug in like kitchen knives. Through gritted teeth, he screamed out to Sheppard.
"Now!"

Acting-Captain Aurelius brought his paragon blade down into Archarus' head, as Commissar Sheppard fired the grav-pistol at his fleshmetal heart. Archarus howled as his head was cleaved open, and his daemonic heart was crushed upon itself. Darl fluid leaked from both wounds. The ichor running through the daemon's veins began to run as liquid fire, pumping through Archarus. Aurelius rolled off of Archarus, his energy spent. Archarus writhed and contorted, his very flesh ablaze and burning in ethereal flame. In seconds, the metal lattice within the daemon began to melt, causing even more damage. The Iron Warrior screamed out curses and foul oaths, hateful prayers to Khorne, and other heretical litanies. It fell on deaf ears. Sheppard stood and watched as the daemonic energies tore the daemon prince apart, shearing him atom from atom, particle by particle. With the last ounce of air in his disintegrating lungs, Archarus let out a bone-shattering roar. His body was ripped apart, dissolving into acrid vapour.

Warsmith Archarus was banished.

-----------------------------------

Sheppard fell to his knees. He looked over at Aurelius. The Acting-Captain was unconscious, yet still breathed, ragged and exhausted. Sheppard moved over to him, to try and revive him. He felt the warm muzzle of a bolter at his back. Sheppard froze.

“Now, Commissar, back away from the Acting-Captain.” The Sorcerer’s speech was accented with pain and exertion. His voice was clipped. Sheppard turned to face him. His Terminator armour was battered, and thick blood clots revealed where Archarus’ claw had caught the Chaos Space Marine. Sheppard remained where he was, and stared down the Terminator. The Sorcerer sighed.
“I mean Hadris no harm. If I wanted to, I could have, long ago. How else do you think he overpowered Archarus? You would be dead if I hadn’t psychically resuscitated him.”

“That… that was you?”

“Yes, Commissar. Contrary to your beliefs, not all chaos is bad. Archarus, yes. He was. And that’s why Aurelius was destined to face him. I forsaw that. But I have not lost my interest in our Acting-Captain here. His wounds will be tended to. I will take him away, for reasons I shall not disclose to you. And I shall return him.” The Sorcerer’s voice seemed to drift off. “Only we shall remain.”

“What?”

“Nothing. Only words. So, Sheppard. Will I have to fight you to take him off your hands?”

Sheppard looked at the Sorcerer. There was no malignancy, no taint or hatred that exuded from the Terminator. Only words. He looked down at Aurelius. The Ultramarine would never know.
Sheppard removed his cap, and stood aside. The Sorcerer knelt down, and lifted Aurelius into his arms. Sheppard noticed that he was carrying Aurelius’ storm shield on his back. Sheppard handed Litura over to the Sorcerer, wo accepted it with a deferential nod. No sooner had the exchange taken place than the two of them were engulfed in a flash of brilliant white light, and were gone. Sheppard rubbed his eyes, and blinked. The force field around him had evaporated following the psyker’s teleportation. Sheppard looked for Lilliana. The Eldar had risen to her feet, and was limping towards Sheppard. Her last Ranger held her up.
“Farseer, I-”

“Don’t speak to me, mortal. No words are needed. Archarus is banished. Craftworld Iybraesil is taking care of the rest of his garrison. The ones that haven’t fled. Warsmith Archarus is not gone. Whilst his men draw breath, he may yet be summoned back. And my forces have suffered greatly.” Her voice began to break. “A daemon on the ground level - Kyrkk'ryk'ykk, masqueraded as a Khornate daemon. Now, reports say that it was a Keeper of Secrets, before it was banished by my Wraithguard. Slaanesh has feasted on many of my kin. But not Korvel…” A tear fell down her face. Sheppard could feel the titanic force she was repressing. The Eldar stiffened to address Sheppard.

“You fought well, Commissar. As did your Astartes companion. The Craftworld will never know you did this. But I will. I thank you.”
A shimmering field of starlight bloomed behind Lilliana. She turned, still graceful in her state, and walked through the portal. Her Ranger followed her, and the field vanished.

“Where’s da psyka?!” Nox had finally been salvaged from his bike. Nox lumbered towards Sheppard. The hairs on the Commissar’ neck rose.
“ I said – WHERE’S DA PSYKA?!” Nox levelled his glaive at the unarmed Faustian.

“Boss – I know dat ‘umie!” Gadnuk laughed, striding forwards towards Sheppard. “Dis is Kommissar Shep ‘ard, or sumfink like dat. I fought ‘im proppa good, back on Gallor Prime. Dis ‘umie fought me proppa well.”

“Really?” Nox eyed the Commissar up and down with his beady red eyes. Sheppard returned the glare – the dead eye on he’d use on new recruits.
“I see wot you’re sayin’,” the biker agreed. “’Ee’s a fighta. It’d be wrong ta kill ‘im now.” Nox sheathed his glaive, and spoke directly to Sheppard. “Where’s dat funny talkin’ psyka and your beaky pal?”

Sheppard’s dry throat croaked a response.
“He went. Took the Ultramarine with him. No idea where they went. They’ll pop up, somewhere. Just leave Aurelius. He’s got nothing to do with them.”

Nox grunted, and turned his back on Sheppard. His bike gave a growl of impatience.
“I know – I’ll get dat psyka git.” The rest of the kommandos mounted up on the back of the Lads of Anorky’s warbikes. Nox turned back to the commissar. “Happy krumpin’, Shep ‘ard.”

The throaty roar of the warbikes sped down the ruined hallway, the glow of their thrusters disappearing into the darkness. Sheppard watched them leave. His body felt weary, as if he had aged hundreds of years in an instant. He sat down on a leering gargoyle, and toyed with the cap in his hands. Blood and sweat dripped off his hair onto the rocky ground, mixing with the dust. The Sorcerer’s words still echoed in Sheppard’s head.
‘Only we shall remain.’
He craned his head to the setting sun. The roaring thrusters were replaced by the unmistakable roar of repulsor engines. Valkyrie engines.

Three Valkyries hovered over him, beating him down with their air-wash. Two of the Valkyries remained in hover formation, their guns trained on Sheppard. The third descended and lowered it’s ramp. The passengers disembarked. Some headed straight for the bodies of the fallen Ultramarines and Faustians that had been crushed under the debris. Gene-seed extractors and dog-tag collectors rummaged through the rocks. Another group headed straight for Sheppard.

“Commissar Jack Sheppard.” The leader of the delegation spoke. Sheppard recognised Nasira, with her dark eyes and smug grin.

“Acting-Colonel.” Sheppard began.

“Lord General Nasira.” The commissar glowered at her. She grinned at him. Sheppard felt disgusted. He noticed how the man at her side had corrected him, a little too quickly. He directed his glare to him. His Solar Auxilia armour betrayed his identity.

“And Tempestor Prime Gallus. Come to finish off the last of the Faustians?”

The two exchanged a look. Gallus’ eyes were like daggers. Sheppard never saw Nasira’s. The mixed unit bodyguard didn’t react.

“On the contrary, Commissar. You are to be resettled on Trisburg, to recruit the next generations of Faustians. You need never go to war again. Do you understand what I’m granting you?”

“I understand, usurper.” Nasira squinted her eyes at Sheppard, but said nothing. “And what if I refuse to comply with you? You’ll what? Shoot me?”

“Believe me, Sheppard – I would.” Gallus spat at him. “If you give me so much as the slightest reason, I would be glad to do it myself.”

Nasira took a step forward. “Gallus would never do such a thing. Not even my authority can condemn you.” Sheppard stared at her, quizzically. “You have, amongst many things, been granted an immunity of sorts.” She began to read from a dataslate handed to her by a guard. “‘Unless proof of Chaos or Xenos taint can be proved with intent of malice against the Charadon Crusade or Imperium, Jack Sheppard and his kin are granted protection and immunity.’ Signed and sealed under the authority of a Watch Captain Titus, of the Ordo Xenos Deathwatch.”

Sheppard looked to the heavens. He didn’t quite know how to feel. His fingers fell limp, and a smile crept across his face. He longed for Petra. He wanted to feel soft sheets behind his back. He wanted to feel his child against him.

Sheppard removed his jacket. It was sweltering. And he hated the material.
“Okay, Lord General. I’ll come.”

Commissar Sheppard clambered aboard the Valkyrie, and as the sun set, millions of tonnes of explosives levelled what remained of Archarus’ fortress.

-----------------------------------

The Charadon Crusade had ended on Grimdi. To some extent, Archarus and his coalition had succeeded. Bereft of manpower and morale, the surviving forces of the crusade set about setting the newly conquered boundaries. Across most of the Imperial worlds, entire swathes of the planets were stripped bare, utterly reaped by Archarus’ violent invasion. It would be many centuries before those worlds would ever be hospitable. Sandfall and Arcturia, in particular, were worth nothing to the Imperium now – even Arcturia’s froststeel was lost in the void. Grimdi, Thrisus, Gulchwater and Chormi were left for many years before terraforming could take place. Planets like Echison VII and Julla formed the boundaries of the new territory, fending off what little Ork raids that mustered against them. Gallor Prime quickly became the new Sector Capital, ruled over by the cunning Lord General Nasira. Despite Gallus leaving soon after the events on Grimdi, and taking many of the brainwashed Cadian 13th and Faustian forces into his forces, she was able to masterfully set up a defensive network, preaching the doctrine of fast reaction cavalry to her newly set PDF forces. Her sector was prosperous and well tended by Imperial standards, fed well from Echison VII, and augmented by Faustian troops from Trisburg. Her Tallarn commanders went on to become lords and ladies of their own worlds, except one.

Lord Sheppard, the ruler of Trisburg, and his wife Lady Petra, ruled fairly and justly – much like the Ultramarines Sheppard had served with. Space Marine envoys often arrived at Trisburg, from both the Ultramarines and the Black Templars, to the Death Ravens and the Wolverines Valiant.

Of the Space Marine forces “missing in action” on Grimdi, many showed up at their homeworlds, escorted by a vessel known as the ‘Reforged Sovereign’.
Captain Julius and what remained of his company reported assault by daemonic forces, and were forced to declare the loss of Strikeforce Praetoria.
Strike Commander Ajuran would not speak of his encounter to his chapter – after a lengthy investigation, the commander was let off any charges.
The Histan 97th regiment was later refounded on Hista, following the miraculous reappearance of Colonel Detta and his closest companions.
Back on Cadia, the Cadian 13th began it’s seventh refounding, now under the mantle of Colonel Gisgo.
Acting-Captain Aurelius vanished without a trace.

The sector experienced little xenos activity after the battle on Grimdi. The Tau Empire had been eradicated from the sector by the 85th Scions, who sent up a training fortress on the world. The crashed Tau Manta is still used as a training ground to this day.
The Eldar forces vanished as inexplicably as they had came, giving no warning or reasoning. Craftworld Iybraesil has since been identified as hunting down Iron Warrior splinter fleets that abandoned Archarus.
Necron activity is always suspected in the Western front, but no evidence has been found. The world of Voor’han periodically emits unusual frequency broadcasts, but nothing has yet been found.
The two ork warbands that joined and subsequently betrayed Archarus, Waaagh! Nox and Narlug hold their conquered worlds, but do not invade the Imperial territory. However, rumours abound of a ‘supa-lazor’ being built on Novus Regulus by the insane and inventive Big Mek Moganog. Other rumours say he’s merely compensating for something.
Waaagh! Nox was last seen leaving the system, hunting a force known only by Imperial records as the Remnants.
No sightings of the Remnants have been recorded since the Gallor Prime Incident.



The war for the Charadon Sector was over.

The Crusade of Fury was at an end.

So thanks to the fact that I have no real social life to speak of, I already got my Eldar outro written up. I had too many ideas.

Spoilered for those who don't give enough of a gak to read it.

I'm also pretty sure that TS probably saw parts of my outro coming from a mile away

Reynard Fairfax sat in his office chair. The worn leather and padding were familiar, recognising his form after so many years sat there. He had turned it, for once not looking into the room, across his desk, but outward to the large circular window bearing the family crest. Looking through it, not even registering the pattern, he stared into the stars, unblinking until they almost blinded him.
Somewhere amongst them, people were dying. Fighting. Constantly and endlessly. In the past this had been no concern to him, he was a trader, not a warrior. Yet he had pulled his crew, his family into that fight. Then he had killed, and it weighed upon him. Not the sinuous woman at the mansion, but the trusting guard who had been welcomed into his ship. Who hadn't even known what was happening. And that weight was only increased by the pain he'd caused to Edward.
Finally blinking, he rubbed his eyes and wondered when he had last slept. When he would again.
And finally he decided what it was he needed to do.

*

OFFER ACCEPTED /// +++

*

Fairfax conceded that he needed to begin knocking, rather than just opening his brother's bedroom door. Whilst he was yet to walk in on anything truly embarrassing, the glare Garth was currently giving him could ignite jeep fuel. And for some reason, Edward was wearing both the commissar's hat and sash at a jaunty angle, his face slightly flushed upon seeing his brother.
Fairfax did his level best to ignore these things, "I need to speak with you both, formally. Meet me in my office in fifteen?" But for the love of Terra, get dressed properly...
"Is your vox broken?" Selka growled.

"Don't make me enforce a literal gagging order on you, Garth. Regardless of what familiarities Ed grants you, I am still your Lord Captain. For now." Reynard returned the glare with well mannered calmness, and retreated out of the room.
"Hm, I'd quite like that idea. Though a muzzle would be much more effective," Edward laughed, tilting his head to examine the scowling commissar's angular jawline, "plus, it'd suit you."
Garth pulled his hat back and didn't react to the seneschal's transparent baiting, "What did he mean, for now?"
"Huh," Edward lay back on the couch and considered, "I don't know, but I don't like the sound of it."

Selka straightened up his hair and replaced his hat, "Me neither. Ever since Trisburg he's been different. Lower in himself. We should go," he tugged at one end of his sash, "give me that back, you lanky pain in the neck."
"Make me." the seneschal leaned further back from his partner's reach, taunting him with a leer.
Garth rolled his eyes, "Don't play games with me, lad," he stood, and with one hand pulled the end of the sash suddenly, causing Edward to flip off the sofa and onto the floor with a hard thump, "you'll lose." He picked up the crimson fabric and replaced it neatly around his waist.

*

Edward stared down at the document in his hands. Battered and dog eared, but unmistakeable, the House Fairfax Warrant of Trade.
"This is why it was so important you stay safe, Ed," Reynard spoke quietly to his brother and patted his hand, "it's yours now."
"You're leaving?" the Seneschal whispered.
"That's not what I hoped you'd take from this, but yes. I'm going-"
"Did we do something wrong?" Edward still hadn't raised his head.
His brother was taken aback, "Of course not! No, Ed, I'm leaving for a while because this whole mess, this war... It's no place for me. For us. And I dragged us into it. People died. We all nearly died. I'm unfit to lead you like this," he reached out a hand and raised Edward's head gently, smiling to try and reassure him, "call it a mutiny of one. Before something far worse happens."

"Where will you go?" Garth asked quietly.
"Trisburg. I'm taking the Guinea, Dekkal and the lads. We're going to help finish clearing out the mess down there with the Inquisition, and then rebuild the economy. From the ground up," Fairfax smiled at the commissar, "I understand trade inside and out, and we're going to work on a slowly expanding circular quarantine for civilians. I think that's a good start."

"I'd like to see that," Selka nodded, "a fresh start."
"I think Edward needs you here," Reynard smiled again and inclined his head, "Seneschal."
Garth blinked and then shook his head, "You make unkind jokes, Rey."
"I mean it. Who would be more loyal to his lord captain?" Fairfax met his gaze calmly, "You'd retain your Commissariat ranking, but with all the privilege commanded by rogue traders."

"What of the war? Won't people care who we fought alongside!" Edward broke the curious silence as both considered Selka's viability as crew.
"So long as we steer clear of any other forces, we'll be left alone. Between House Fairfax and Inquisitor Brogue, we have enough immunity to work Trisburg back into recovery. I'd suggest you make yourself scarce very sharply, rather than tempt fate, though." Reynard smiled sadly, "Marcus is our only insurance to get you out of the system safely."
"What do you mean?" Selka looked alarmed.
"Loyalists will believe Ed killed him, proving his loyalty to Zonand. However, anyone else comes after you, reveal he's alive and you smuggled him out. They will think you secretly sympathised with Pavus," Fairfax spoke slowly, "in either case your priority is to get as far away as possible. Get back to doing what we are good at, not scrapping over planets."

"I'm honoured," Edward spoke in a small voice, "I had never thought I'd- You'd-" he struggled, his eyes burning, "I couldn't imagine a time you'd not be here. Where you belong."
"And I will return to you," his brother closed Edward's hands around the paper, "but it is time that you prove to us, to yourself, that you can do this."
"Where do I start?" the former seneschal furrowed his brow.
Reynard laughed, "Well after you drop myself and the lads off, and take the Histans home, I seem to recall a sizeable shipment of mushrooms are in chillers aboard the Farthing."
"Fething mushrooms!" Garth laughed, "Those things almost killed me! If Ange had been here instead of out shopping, we'd have known from day one that the infection was faked."
"Then, Seneschal, you shall have to ensure that we get a good price for them," Edward replied softly and taking his hand from the document, took one of Garth's in his own, "it'll be your first duty as well."
The commissar scowled, "I'd sooner space the f-" catching Reynard's mischievous gaze, he burst out laughing, "Mushrooms it is."

As the pair stood to leave, the former Rogue Trader caught Selka's eye and gestured for him to stay.
"A word with Garth if you please, Ed. I won't be long."
Edward nodded dazedly and continued out of the room, the door swinging softly shut behind him.

"What is my brother to you?"
Garth flicked his head up in surprise, "I'm sorry?"
"I want to be clear. Is he a passing fancy? An easy bed? Something more serious? Am I going to get a wedding invitation? What is he to you, Garth?" the words would have been comical if not for the intense expression Reynard wore.
Selka bristled, "You know what he is."
"No, I know what you are to him. That he killed in your name; that I near lost him eternally by faking your death. Ed doesn't love in half measures." the eyes stayed locked on Garth's, patient but fierce at the same time.
The commissar broke the gaze, "He is ...home." he turned his head away.
"Home?" Fairfax remained impassive, insistent.
"You know, home," Selka looked embarrassed, "you gave me a place to live and a purpose. But he made it, home.. Zuhause." he dropped into his native tongue.
Fairfax's expression warmed, and he chuckled quietly, "That means a lot, coming from you. It's not easy to lower a guard you've spent years forging," he rested his hand firmly on Garth's shoulder, "come, have a drink and allow me to apologise."

Garth smiled tiredly, "Before you depart, certainly. But you are right. He needs me. You know he'll grieve for you."
"And I for him," murmured the former lord captain, "but it is the right thing to do. For all our sakes."
"How long will it take? Honestly." the commissar asked as they stepped toward the door.
"We have a plan for three, four years. Could be there for up to ten. Marcus was not a great record keeper." Reynard sighed, "Honest work, and hard. But rewarding I hope."
"That'll be on record as the longest commited relationship you'll have ever maintained, then." Garth's eyes twinkled with mischievous taunting as he passed into the corridor.
Fairfax laughed from the doorway, "See if you can't beat it, eh?"

*

Captain Eamon Dekkal sat in the brig, his shoulders low, matching his spirits. Nobody had the time to visit him this day, nor the previous. He knew that threatening Edward had been foolish, and near suicidal. But nobody out if the command crew, bar Dekkal, had ever served in the guard, known what it meant to put their lives at stake for the Emperor. He had regretted the threat instantly, but the training was in his blood, impossible to ignore. He wondered if his family had yet heard of his mutiny, closing his eyes at the wave of shame.

Soft steps in the corridor caused him to raise his eyes.
"Eamon."
"Commissar."
Garth shook his head, "Not any more, Captain," he unlocked the door of the cell and stepped inside, taking a seat beside Eamon, "I've been forcibly promoted to Seneschal."
Dekkal looked up sharply, "Rey-"
"Is fine, so is Ed. But Rey is leaving. That's why I'm here," Garth pulled out his ubiquitous flask and offered it to the officer, "Rey is going to assist on Trisburg, rebuild it after the mess made there. It'll be long work, but there's space for you and your family on that shuttle, Eamon. You're still part of this if you wish to be."
Dekkal paused, sipping the mead, "You'd trust me? After what I did?"
"Especially after what you did. You are a good soldier, Captain. You just need to learn to be a good civilian as well." Selka retrieved the flask and drank.
"Coming from you!" Eamon snorted. The commissar's ice coloured eyes rested on his, and the captain bowed his head, ashamed.
"Well?"
"I'll go." he nodded.
"Good man," Garth didn't move, and instead passed the flask back again, "you coming for dinner? Starts in an hour."
Eamon's stomach loudly answered for him, and they shared a grim laugh.

*

In the cargo bay of the Sovereign, Mordos had found something of great entertainment. Marcus, once planetary governor, was sat scowling in a makeshift brig made from a cargo container, surrounded by books and papers.
As far as Mordos could tell, they were just covered in esoteric scribbles and whimsy, yet the man scrabbled to gather them up upon his approach.
"What do you want, witch?" he growled at the psyker.
"Come to bring you your dinner." the pale psyker slid a tray of food under the large ornate grating of the front wall. The rations were more than generous, and Mordos had been tempted to sample them on the trip down, until he had been shown his own dinner that awaited upon returning.
"Where is the seneschal?" Marcus ignored the offering, though Mordos sensed deep uncertainty.
Turning to leave, the psyker giggled, "Oh he's too busy to come down here now. Far too busy, now that he's been made Lord Captain. Had to be, you see, as his brother is going to return to Trisburg. All the way there just to assist in rebuilding it."
The wave of delicious emotions surging from Marcus hit the psyker in the back, and it was all he could do not to laugh. He quickened his pace back to the main ship, it wouldn't do to be late for dinner.

Riding off into the sunset

Those few who remained of WAAAGH Warprida had made their way back to the Blade of Mork. The orks were in high spirits such a battle was the stuff of the green skin’s dreams. Nox looked at what remained of his WAAAGH council and gave a mangled toothy grin. Dok Krusha had replaced his lost eye with a new git-finda. Ronin sustained severe third degree burns at the hands of a Faustian flame trooper, but they were worth it to see the puny human’s pack detonate from a well placed stikk bomb. The Doof was perhaps the happiest of all the orks present, a vision came to him and he composed a new eavy metal song called da ballad of Grimdi. Gadnuk looked proud to be part of such a historic battle and even happier to come out of it alive. Gadnuk looked over to Nox who sat at the command throne and spoke “Where to next boss. We hunting dat chaos lad?” Nox looked over to Doomblitza seeking the bike’s council but the warp powered demon engine gave no response. Nox spoke out “We’ll find dat git eventually for now we’re settin a course fer da Cadian sector, I hear there’s a proper fight a brewin down there.”

The Blade of Mork’s warp engines powered to life and the ramshackle ship unearthed from the surface of Wuldgrund enter the envelope of the immaterium and vanished from the Chardon sector.

New sheaths for old swords

Word spread across the dominion of Faust the cluster of worlds Pavus called his own that their supreme Lord Governor was dead. It would have seemed that Hannibal Pavus was the only thing holding the Faustian empire together as everything fell apart after the news of his passing came. Worlds declared themselves independent of of Faust and civil war broke between loyal Faustian and upstart rebels seeking a world free from Faustian Vassalage. Even those who declared themselves loyal to Faust fought amongst themselves as various members of the Pavus family fought for control of the high throne. The noble realm of Faust was fractured and would be unlikely to see whole again.

Captain Saieed Kasssani finally had everything he wanted vengeance, command of his own unit, and his own ship. Shortly after the battle on Grimdi Captain Kasssani returned to the Wrath of Faust and vanished from the face of the Imperium. Reports suggest he and his band of mercenaries now going by the name of the Void Drakes made their way to the ghoul stars, where they plunder, pillage, and sell their services to the highest bidder Imperial or otherwise. They have earned a reputation for being a particularly ruthless lot.

Mercenary work suited Captain Braddock well. He quickly earned the title Punisher Braddock being Kassani’s third in command right after Lieutenant Kale Norra. The exiled knight felt for once he was free not burdened by his past an exile Faustian knight and not indentured to a lunatic lord governor. This would be the closest thing to happiness the Hound would ever have.

Cadet Commissar Jethro Alenko (Promoted to the full rank of Commissar after the events on Brachus) was in the trench when the Tallaran came for Halter. It was mutiny that saved Alenko on Grimdi as Jethro ordered his men not to surrender, but captain whitewall delivered a rifle butt to the back of the young commissar’s head and then ordered the remaining Paragons to lay down arms. Knocking Alenko out saved his life as Nasira would have had no qualms about killing the young commissar. After the battle was over he returned to Trisburge with his mentor Commissar Sheppard.The young man said his final farewells to his mentor Sheppard once they arrived at Trisburge as Alenko was headed back to the commissariat for assignment to his own company. Sheppard felt both pride and loss at Alenko’s promotion he had been responsible for the lad for almost a decade he was like a son to him.

Commissar Jack Sheppard was sent to Trisburge after the battle of Grimdi. The sudden disappearance of Governor Marcus Pavus had left a vacancy one the the New Lord General had ordered Commissar Sheppard to fill. Sheppard noticed that Trisburge looked far worse than when he and the Faustians first liberated the world from the green skins those years ago. When the Faustians came they were welcomed as heroes, now Faustian banners rot in the mud and the citizen’s curse the name Pavus associating it with a mad man governor. Sheppard declared no longer would Trisburge be under the dominion of Faust, he renounced their Faustian vassalage. Trisburge began to rebuild under the guidance of Sheppard and Petra returned a great deal of honor serving as captain of the royal guard. Eventually with the help of the Rogue Trader Fairfax Trisburge was on a path to be greater than ever. Though Sheppard saw his role as Lord Governor as provisional, a role that he had full intention of stepping down from when the time was right. Nearly a year later that time came and Sheppard announced to the citizens of Trisburge the first free election in the planet’s history. After the election was over Sheppard and his wife and child disappeared none are sure where they had gone, Lord General Nasira put out feelers and searched for the errant commissar fearing he might attempt to reveal some misguided truth, but nothing came up and eventually crusade high command forgot all about the commissar. But still there are stories of the Commissar and Knight who defied everything and lived and loved in service to the Emperor.

Sheppard sat by the atop a hill watching from above as Petra and the young Liliana play fight with long stocks of wheat. Sheppard took in a deep breath and put on his commissar’s cap to join them.