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Invictus, clad in the black and warded silver of his most secret order, turned to the Centurions arrayed across the mighty table from him. Too many of their numbers were but newly recruited acolytes, a testament to the hideous losses that they had suffered in the months preceeding the arrival of Invictus' Killteam. "Brother Pasanius," Invictus addressed the tallest of his opposites, "did you enjoy my tale of our glory against the Tyranid swarms?"


"Mm," Pasanius nodded his ascension, "indeed I did, Brother."


"Your armor marks you the veteran of many battles, share a story with me! What detritus dims the Emperor's light - though feebly - in this sector?"


Pasanius' armor was the color of spilled blood, chased with gold and steel filigree. It had rents and tears that marred its elegant surface. The layered ceramite and plasteel polycarbonate combs peeked from beneath the armor's wounds like the crude supports of an ancient work of art. Pasanius took a deep breath and let it out slow as he raised his shining cup of wine to his lips. Pasanius' quick swallow tainted his breath with the stink of vinegar.


"Orks, Brother. By the thousands and millions. An unending tide of green malice, pouring forth from the edges of the void - black, red, yellow, blue - their crude banners raised high in debas'ed exhaltation. They came at us like rain and our devastators hewed them asunder with a hail of righteous bolter fire." Pasanius' bright green eyes were a-glow with the memory, delighting in the retelling of his glories. "We stood shoulder to shoulder in a long corridor aboard the frigate Shield of Valor. We had already receiv'ed the terrible news that our sister ship, Shield of Mercury, had perished under the onslaught of the Orkish guns and we were in no mood to follow her into the cold night. Our brothers had died valiantly, no doubt, and bought us the precious few hours we had to ready our defenses. Behind us lay wreckage, before us - victory. Our shields raised high and blade at the ready, we calmly awaited the signal to fly."


Pasanius paused to quaff the remainder of his cup. Eager acolytes rushed forward with casks to refill it, knowing he would not continue till his thirst had been slaked. He poured the second cup down his throat and in one fluid action threw the goblet across the room, shouting, "FLY! Our engines ablaze with the fury of the Emperor himself, we took to the high vaulted halls and crashed amidst our foe! Even as the big guns fired! Even as the xenos died in gouts of roaring blood around us! We hewed and hacked and SLAUGHTERED our way forward, the glorious precision of our lines firing UN-ERRINGLY between us, killing foes unseen, lending retribution to our fury!" Pasanius danced across the feasting hall, pantomiming thrusts and parries, shield blocks and body checks.


"We heard their masses quail and they turned to flee. We had them on the run! Until," Pasanius thrust an index finger toward the ceiling, drawing out his pause, "a great roar was heard and the green skins faltered, their route interrupted. Beneath our feet the ground rumbl'ed and we smiled at each other that a foe to match our fury had come. The tide parted like an algal sea and a hideous mockery of authority strode forth to meet us. I voxed my comrades, 'Look here! A mighty Nob has come to meet us. Let us make quick work of it so that my blade can taste again the crack of skull and welt of blood.' And of course," Pasanius rolled his eyes in mock contempt. The acolytes tittered and chirped, trying to giggle without being heard. "My brother Agomen voxed his correction to me. 'Brother', he said in his stilted Gothic, 'We face no nob before us, this is the Freebooter General Donak Skullteef. Be wary.' 'Be wary' he says? I will beware no xenos scum! 'Agomen!' I shouted into my vox, 'Orks! Don't! Have! Generals!' I did not wait for his response and instead flew to meet this so-called 'Boss of War'. I managed to land two telling strikes on the beast, one which put out his eye, before my brothers caught up with us. But the monster was unfazed and simply reached down to snatch up the wayward eyeball and stuck it back in its hole. We fought grim and true that day, the battle hung on our victory. We lost four of our number to Skullteef, Agomen among them. But to his glory and the lasting story of his name, it was Agomen who slew the beast at the last, ramming his gladius sword into Skullteef's forehead with all the last of his strength. I heard the crack of the brute's skull myself, trapped as I was in the grip of its mighty klaw. Damn'ed thing rent my shield, but now I have scars enough, on armor and flesh, to speak a story worthy of song."


Pasanius turned his gaze to look upon Invictus with satisfaction. "We turned the tide and the fleet escaped. But now we have come to a place where enemies are not so easily picked out from the crowd."