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Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

After their horrid, soul-destroying fight on the world of Sarkeath, Attelus and his comrades have earned one lead; a name: Inquisitor Soloston of the Ordo Malleus. Soon, he's tracked to the backwater shrine world of Quoranda. But something froths beneath the surface of the oh so puritanical world. Something capable of drowning the entire sector in a sea of agony and decay.

The third story in the Secret War series. Check out the preceding stories.

Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore.

https://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/776829.page

Secret War: Upon Blood Sands
Three years after Secret War. Attelus and the other survivors are sent to investigate the war-torn world of Sarkeath. With Attelus' hallowed heroes, the men of the Velrosian 1st fighting on the surface, it's personal. Especially when their leader, General Tathe had ordered a successful Exterminatus months before. Is this yet another scheme of their shadowy foe? Or a dead end?

https://www.dakkadakka.com/dakkaforum/posts/list/791967.page


From left to right it's Karmen Kons, Attelus Kaltos and in the foreground, veteran sergeant Kalakor of the Raven Guard.



Chapter 1
Chapter 2
Chapter 3
Chapter 4
Chapter 5
Chapter 6
Chapter 7
Chapter 8
Chapter 9
Chapter 10
Chapter 11
Chapter 12
Chapter 13
Chapter 14
Chapter 15
Chapter 16
Chapter 17
Chapter 18
Chapter 19
Chapter 20
Chapter 21
Chapter 22
Chapter 23
Chapter 24
Chapter 25
Chapter 26
Chapter 27
Chapter 28
Chapter 29
Chapter 30
Chapter 31
Chapter 32
Chapter 33
Chapter 34
Chapter 35
Chapter 36
Chapter 37
Chapter 38
Chapter 39
Chapter 40
Chapter 41
Chapter 42
Chapter 43
Chapter 44
Chapter 45

This message was edited 47 times. Last update was at 2024/03/07 19:56:07


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

The roiling red smog-clouds engulfed the sky like a never-ending bubbling, boiling broth, so much so that it encircled down to every horizon. In stark contrast to the black beneath, black which spread in every direction laid a city first made up of gothic towers of adamantium and plasteel, their silhouettes made jagged by the countless bouts of acid rain across the millennia and the millions and millions of gargoyles and statues of Aquilas and saints that studded them. Below were even more decrepit rockcrete, crumbling close-knit hab blocks, stacks and stacks of them and manufactorums that spewed the red smog in a stream that hadn't abated even slightly over the course of thousands of years.

A speck, one among billions named Attelus Kaltos, walked in one of the many alleyways which wound throughout the hive. His hands in the pockets of his black flak jacket, a smoking Lho stick in the corner of his mouth. His footfalls echoed on the rockcrete ground in a way that seemed odd to his ears, but he couldn't identify why. It'd taken him a while to get used to his inhuman senses since his "enhancement", which now seemed a lifetime ago, and he supposed it a by-product.

The itch on his nose made Attelus fight the urge to push the thick fringe of long brown hair from his sharp, almost feminine features despite the fact no one was around to see the horrific scar torn into his left cheek. No, he corrected; no one around I can see.

The thought made him narrow his eyes, stop and glance around himself; even his enhanced vision could only pierce the blanket of smog a few metres, even when he blink-clicked his photo-contact lenses to heat vision. The smog's burning stench writhed inside his nose like it had a life of its own. Attelus blinked away the welling tears blurring his vision for the millionth time, and after a few more seconds of searching and finding nothing, he began on again.

This world was one he'd never set foot on before, just one of countless hive worlds across the Imperium of Mankind. Just yet another small step on the road he'd begun, so much so, he'd already forgotten its name. Not that wasn't without the realms of reality as Attelus knew he didn't have the best memory for names. With his thumb and index finger, Attelus took the Lho stick from his lips and exhaled smoke but stopped as he realised why the sound of his feet seemed off, it echoed as if he walked on a varnished wooden floor inside a cavernous hall.

He didn't know what to make of this, his mind seemed to throb, and his thoughts became murky as if the smog had slipped inside his skull. Attelus didn't want to continue walking to confirm it.

Something caught the corner of Attelus' eye, and his attention snapped to the wall on his right. Words were spray-painted there, which he couldn't quite make out. Despite himself, Attelus started to approach it, the extreme familiarity ticked at the back of his mind, but he didn't know why.

It wasn't until he was only a few inches away he could read it, and the realisation sent a freezing shiver under his skin. It read in blue: 'Frig the arbites!' In a primitive, running scrawling. It was the exact same graffiti he passed every day when he walked to work at Taryst's tower back on Omnartus.

Attelus was sure that such a sentiment would be sprayed on walls the Imperium over, but this was the same he knew as he'd seen it twice a day, almost every day for six months.

But that wasn't possible Omnartus was...Omnartus had been...

Attelus began to back away, then a movement caught the corner of his eye, and he turned. He was no longer in an alleyway, but the walls had spread apart so far he seemed to stand on a wide-open plain in a valley made up of rockcrete.

The sound of thousands of echoing footsteps approaching his left made Attelus shudder in fright and turn.

Thousands of figures suddenly filled the new valley, swaying marching his. Figures whose features flickered from inscrutable grey blurs into vaguely familiar faces, but the faces would never stay on the same figure twice.

His heart slamming through him, Attelus began to back away, his twitching, fear addled fingers reaching for the powersword sheathed at his hip as good as it'd do him against such overwhelming numbers. But he found himself even incapable of that as another fully-formed figure materialised at the crowd's head; it wore white power armour, its face hidden behind its helm, but there was no missing the large golden I emblazoned on its chest.

'E-Etuarq?' Attelus managed to say through a wall of clenched teeth.

'No,' the Inquisitor's voice boomed from its grill. 'I am Inquisitor Edracian; the sad, foolish puppet Etuarq killed so he could manipulate you into causing the murder of billions.'

'I-'

Attelus' reply died in his throat as others started to materialise alongside Edracian, shambling toward Attelus with the too-familiar emotion of hatred swirling in their eyes. First was a pretty young woman, with jaw-length brown hair, wearing thick brown robes of the Ecclesiarchy, the Emperor's church. Attelus didn't know her until she started to flicker. Attelus couldn't help cry and reel back as he recognised the brown, rotting corpse she kept becoming.

'A-Amand-'

'Interrogator Amanda Heartsa,' said the young woman as she became the corpse permanently. 'Like Edracian, you never met me, but I was tortured for weeks at the hand of Taryst, then murdered so you could take the pict-'

'I know! Please, don't-'

'Which lead my father, Inquistor Torathe, into the abyss of insanity and order the destruction of an entire world.'

Attelus clenched his teeth and balled his gloved hands into fists so hard they began to shake. He wanted to back away, but he found his feet rooted to the spot. Another became colonel Barhurst, the selfish, cowardly leader of the Rogue Trader Taryst's mercenary army. He'd been murdered so the shapeshifting "mimic" mutant could take his place and take over. Attelus met Barhurst eyes; he held no sadness for Barhurst demise.

Then six more figures became visible, and he knew them all instantly; they were the mercs Attelus had fought alongside in their war against the gangs on Omnartus. Much to his shame, he could only remember Callague and Jarvus's names, whose deaths occurred just before everything went to hell. They didn't say anything; they didn't need to as Attelus couldn't help wilt beneath their glaring.

Beside them, Major Olinthre appeared into life, his once handsome face contorted into an ugly a dark blue, veined simulacrum. As he shuffled, the lolling tongue in the colonel's hanging mouth bounced about. Attelus looked at the ground, colonel Barhurst's second in command's death was one he was directly responsible for.

'I died because you were too pathetic, too lost in your own selfish grief for the death of your foolish girlfriend to help me when I needed your help the most!' Olinthre snarled; each syllable sent a wave of cold, shivering pain throughout his bones.

Tears welled in Attelus' gaze, Olinthre was right, but that made him wonder: Why wasn't Elandria among the dead? Quickly, Attelus shook away the thought; he knew why she wasn't; he knew why.

'I only went up to Taryst's quarters because you manipulated me!' said Olinthre. 'You planted the suspicions in my brain that made me take you up there to my death!'

'I-I-I know! I-I-I'm sorry! I didn't mean-'

'And not just that, you then went and allied with my murderer! The accursed mutant shapeshifter like it was nothing. Nothing.'

Attelus fell to his knees, unable to reply through his hyperventilation; he hoped it would make him paradoxically faint as he did on those stairs so long ago, so he could escape this.

'Face me!' roared another voice, and Attelus couldn't help turn to its source.

Taryst himself swayed his way, his once healthy tanned skin so pale it was almost translucent and so wrinkled and wizened he seemed to have aged five hundred years, which was how old he was when he died, his youth extended due to extensive and expensive rejuvenant treatments.

'If you had taken up my offer and joined my organisation! You could have saved me, protected me, frig you!'

Attelus didn't reply; he just glared at the Rogue Trader and got back to his feet; in all honesty, he didn't mourn that bastard's death at all. Attelus suspected that very few people did, especially in the end when he fell into the depths of paranoia; he was a reminder, along with the scar on Attelus' face, to not make the same mistake.

Taryst's spectre seemed to see this as it stopped, its eyes widening as it dissolved into a shade then became lost amongst the millions of others.

'Apprentice,' hissed a familiar haughty feminine voice, and a lithe woman wearing a black bodyglove grew into view. She stormed towards him, her face a hideous rictus as she shook in rage.

'Glaitis...' said Attelus.

'You turned the others against me,' she snarled, spittle bubbled from her teeth and down her chin. 'It was your fault that I died.'

'No, I-'

Yet another materialised beside Glaitis, it was Major Olinthre, but it wasn't the major; the ugly, almost ear to ear smug smile indicated it was...

'The mimic,' said Attelus. 'You aren't here to accuse me of killing you, are you? It was Glaitis who you so idiotically, mindlessly worshipped; she stabbed you through the heart, in spite of your supposed loyalty.'

'Yes, but it was your horrible betrayal which drove her to do it,' It said. 'Yours and Hayden's and Castella's and Darrance's! And it was you who inspired them to do it. It was your fault, you horrible little worm, you traitor. You turned against her despite all she did for you, took you in, gave you a job, gave you a purpose, but you spat on her kindness. How dare you! How frigging dare you!'

'I see even in death you still mindlessly serve.' said Attelus. 'Even in death, you're still a sycophant, mutant.'

The Olinthre-thing's face turned even redder with rage, its hands clenching into fists, then It too, disappeared into anonymity.

Attelus looked at Glaitis. 'Why are you still here? I feel no guilt for your death.'

'Ah, but you see, if you had not betrayed me, your friend, Jeurat Garrakson, would not have sacrificed himself to kill me,' said Glaitis. 'And you had manipulated him into it, so my Cult would not have you killed for murdering me.'

Attelus looked away, clenching his jaw.

'See? See?' Glaitis shrieked. 'I am correct! You clenched your jaw, that tell I told you to gain control of, did I not? You did that. You did that.'

'P-perhaps I-I did,' said Attelus as he glanced around, the wraiths had encircled him now, led by the shades of Olinthre, Barhurst, Callague, Jarvus, Attelus' other Omnartusian comrades and Interrogator Heartsa. Then other spectres solidified into people in quick succession; some Attelus recognised right away, some he didn't at all. There was a tall, lanky man in gang leathers and short, shaggy black hair, his bare arms coated in tattoos who at first seemed vaguely familiar. Attelus realised who it was, it was his dead comrade's Verenth's brother, and it sent a sharp, cold shiver through him when he realised both had died at his hand. Verenth's brother three years ago in a skirmish in Omnartus, and Verenth recently on Sarkeath. Attelus' gaze fell to the ground; he'd killed Verenth and many others, slaughtered them while controlled by a daemonic blade. That still wouldn't stop the horrid, painful guilt swirling through him at the mere thought of it.

Then appeared the security guard who Attelus made take him to the roof of his building in a desperate bid to stop an Adeptus Arbites Ornithopter slaughtering innocent civilians back on Omnartus. Attelus had tried to tell him to leave that doomed hive world, but the man hadn't. Yet another innocent person caught in the crossfire.

After him was Medicae Aheth, Attelus made sure not to forget his name; he was Inquisitor Brutis Tybalt's surgeon back on Omnartus he had stayed behind to treat and protect his patients as Space Marines slaughtered everyone in Taryst's tower, while Attelus and the others ran. Karmen claimed it was pragmatic they run because it was only them who held the knowledge of their enemy's agenda, but at times, Attelus couldn't help feel it was cowardice, that they should've stood and fought. Attelus had given him Aheth autopistol, he just hoped Aheth had died quickly and with the dignity he deserved.

Following him was the big, bulky man in gang leathers, Selg, who was Verenth's friend and right-hand man Selg had apparently ripped a man's throat out with his teeth once. He died abruptly and brutally by a bolt round exploding out his chest. Then came the spectres of the Stormtroopers who'd accompanied Attelus and the others in the escape of Taryst's tower.

Alongside them walked an old, fat, balding man whose hate-filled eyes seemed the most withering of all. Following him was a young, skinny man who shuddered as if in the grasp of the most overwhelming weeping imaginable. Attelus couldn't remember either of their names, but he knew them; they'd both worked with his former apprentice, Adelana, in a mailroom in Taryst's tower. They, too, had died at the hands of the Space Marines, and they too didn't deserve the brutal deaths fate handed them. Sometimes, Attelus couldn't help relish the fact that the Space Marine chapter The Desolation Inculpators were declared Excommunicate Taitorous and wiped out, despite being also pawns in this. Just like him. So, perhaps, then, he too deserved the same fate as well? Too bad it would only be temporary.

Behind Adelana's long-dead colleagues, the spectres suddenly grew, bubbling into sinister, armoured silhouettes of Space Marines that towered over all the others in the sea all around, exactly a thousand of them. However, Attelus had no idea how he knew and many others who died in the three year period between the Omnartus Incident and the battle on Sarkeath.

Then came a Marangerian captain he knew the face of, but not his name. He was the captain who met Attelus and the others after their capture by the soldiers of the Velrosian 1st regiment on Sarkeath. After him, the thousands who had died on that cursed world fazed into existence. The men and women of Attelus' homeworld, of his country Velrosia who died at the behest of Attelus' and Karmen Kons' mission to find and take down the traitor, the former Inquisitor, Etuarq. As much as their deaths were a consequence of their positions in the universe, regret still riddled him. They were his childhood heroes, the famous and elite 'first among equals.' The battle reduced the Elbyran regiments, made up of thousands of warriors reduced to a few dozen. It hurt, it hurt so much he didn't know any of their names as they were the true heroes. But in the end, they succeeded, by the skin of their frigging teeth, but they managed to win, and that would've been enough for the likes of Kalakor or Karmen and yet...

Attelus train of thought melted away as more familiar faces became obvious among the dead of the Elbyran contingent. One was a scar-faced middle-aged woman in the uniform of a Velrosian scout and a cameleoline cloak on her shoulders. Attelus knew her name, scout-sergeant Adreen; she was one of the heroes featured the most in the propaganda alongside Commissar Delan Tathe and scout-trooper Dellenger. Attelus hadn't spoken to her much before her death, but she'd seemed down-to-earth, wise and sharp-witted. Attelus remembered how she teased him by saying he was "more than just a pretty face" just before the battle began, making him blush like hell.

It didn't take much to make him blush; now, he thought about it.

Then came Vark, still in his Inquisitorial Storm Trooper carapace, still with the same hard-eyed glare and snare which never seemed to leave his nondescript face. Vark was an elite Storm Trooper employed under Taryst and the last survivor. He was very religious and saw the galaxy in black and white, and this led to his eventual execution at the hands of Commissar Delan Tathe. Vark was a skilled soldier, but he was...an idiot. He was another person Attelus wouldn't miss, in all honesty.

Following Vark were the three friends...the three friends and comrades who had died at Attelus' own hand. Verenth, Helma and Jelket and seeing them forced tears to take over his vision and icy agony coursed through his very bones. His knees shook and wanted to collapse beneath him, but he fought to keep his feet.

Verenth's hooded snake-like gaze pierced into Attelus like a powersword thrusting through his guts. An agony Attelus knew first-hand. Despite his intensity and almost evil outward appearance, Verenth was deep down a good person of strong faith in the Emperor, and he had overcome his justified hatred for Attelus to work along with him against their mutual enemy, which was a powerful testament to his strength of will and sense of duty. It helped Attelus swore to Verenth he could kill him once they'd finished, but through no control of Attelus, that turned out to be an impossibility and even when Verenth learned this, he still kept fighting. Despite having the option to use more technologically advanced weapons, Verenth was a gunslinger Attelus had yet to see the equal of.

Helma and Jelket both wore their Storm Trooper carapace armour, and they glared at him, but not nearly with the same intensity as Verenth, whose whole face seemed made to project hatred despite the scars on Helma's quite masculine features. Helma was a captain in Taryst's private military, and when Attelus first met her, she was a hard-line, manipulative bitch who was willing to leave Adelana and her workmates to be slaughtered by Space Marines. But over the three years she'd mellowed, Attelus supposed she'd been humbled by the struggles she'd been through as an Inquisitorial soldier. Developing a strong sense of self-awareness and empathy, as well as being an effective fighter. Despite being much older than Attelus and much more experienced as a leader, she was one of the most accepting of all the agents he brought to Sarkeath about him being in charge.

Jelket's glare was as comical as Verenth's was intimidating, and a shudder of guilt mingled into the agonising horror swirling in his diaphragm. He, too, had been a member of Taryst's army, a lowly trooper, the last survivor of his squad, but that was more out of "luck" or "circumstance" than anything else. Even in death, poor Jelket was a joke, a man who never seemed great at anything no matter how hard he tried, and he knew this. Yet, he still never hesitated to put aside his insecurities and step up and help his friends when they were in need.

What hurt Attelus was after he...slaughtered...them, he learned that Jelket and Helma were beginning a burgeoning relationship. He hadn't just stolen their lives and destroyed their very souls but stole any chance of happiness for them, forever.

A realisation hit him then, and his attention fell to his feet, that he hadn't just done that to his friends but hundreds of thousands, perhaps millions of others.

No, at least millions, Omnartus had over twenty billion people living on it, and they were all dead all because of him. His idiotic, idiotic mistakes that were the reason he kept the huge, ugly scar on his left cheek so he would never forget, never make the same mistakes again. The thought of his scar caused his hand to shoot to cover it through his long fringe of brown hair.

His shoulders began to shake, and the tears fell unfettered. Attelus wanted to scream sorry to the spectres over and over again, but the words became lodged in his throat.

Around him in came the never-ending ocean of spectres, all had materialised into distinct faces, all looked at Attelus with the same hatred glazed gazes as they closed in on him. Now there was no sight of the walls or even the rockcrete beneath their feet.

Then the screaming started, it erupted from the sky above, it split his skull like a log splitter, and the agony caused him to collapse to his knees and smothered his ears, but it was futile.

His tears were now a product of pain; he cried out and dragged his attention to the sky. It was no longer a crimson cloud of smog but a sea of bubbling, contorting hollow-eyed, hollow mouthed screaming faces, all of them bearing the same features of the horde closing in on him. When one would scream, another would burst from its mouth, destroying the last, then another would take its place, over and over again. It was like looking into the very warp itself. Attelus cried out again, but it became lost.

The spectres were almost on him; Attelus wanted to draw his sword, to try to fight them off despite the futility of it; no amount of skill or training or augmentation would prevent him from being overwhelmed, but the instinct to fight especially one cannot run was ingrained in him since he could walk. Still, he couldn't find the strength as his whole body descended into a fit of shaking, rocking madness.

'I'm sorry!' he finally managed to scream. 'I'm so sorry!'

Then he became eclipsed, and he curled into a foetal ball.



But there was no pain, no hands grabbing him to tear him apart in a tide of utter agony. Instead, a soft hand laid on his shoulder.

'Attelus,' said a voice. 'You're alright now. You're alright.'

He recognised the voice in a split second and snapped up to find a woman standing over him, a smile on a face as soft and beautiful as her voice, her long teal dyed hair pulled into a ponytail.

'Castella?' Attelus cried.

'Yes, Attelus it's-'

Attelus interrupted her by eclipsing her in a hug. 'Castella! I can't believe it's you! I-I miss you so much.'

'Whoa, whoa,' said Castella as she hugged him back. 'It's good to see you too. It's good to see you too, Attelus.'

Attelus fell into a fit of weeping; it hit him so hard he could barely breathe, and him being so short, his face became lost in her chest, but she didn't seem to mind.

Through his blubbering, he fought to tell her how sorry he was, but he couldn't contend even a coherent syllable. He wanted to tell her he was sorry for letting her get crushed beneath that pillar back on Omnartus. That she was such a good, kind person, who'd been the only one who treated him with dignity and humanity when he'd worked as a mercenary beneath the bitch Glaitis. He wanted to thank her for praying at his bedside every day when he was in a coma.

'It's alright, Attelus,' she said. 'I died not because of you but because of my reliance on acrobatics. If I wasn't in mid-air, I might have been able to get out of the way. You'd warned me about that, didn't you?'

Through his sniffling, Attelus laughed a muffled laugh.

'And there's no need to thank me. I would have always been there for you, no matter what. I just wish I was alive to help you now.'

'I do...too.'

'But you don't need me, Attelus. I know you are strong enough to manage through it alone, but you aren't alone. Are you?'

'N...No, I guess I'm not.'

A large, heavy finger tapped Attelus on the shoulder. 'Get your face out of her boobs, kid. It's rude, even if even I can tell they're damn nice.'

Attelus froze, his eyes widening, and he looked over his shoulder. A tall, well-built man in green flak armour loomed above him, his arms folded across his chest. Despite his face being mostly made of scar tissue, his smile was broad and genial. His tanned skin crinkled around his small violet eyes, the eyes of all those native to the famous fortress world Cadia.

'G-Garrakson?'

The ex-guardsman nodded his shaven head, and his hands fell to his sides. 'What, no hug for me, kid? After all the things we have been through, not even the power of boobs can-'

Attelus interrupted him with a hug. 'It's good to see you, Jeurat.'

'Good to see you too, little buddy. It's been a long time.'

'I'm sorry-'

'Look, stop apologising. I knew exactly what I was getting into; it wasn't your fault.'

'But-'

'It wasn't...your...fault. You have enough to feel guilty about already.'

'You...were my friend. The best friend I've ever...had.'

'That's nice to hear. I wish I could be there to help you so damn much too, kid. But before I died, wanted to say this, but I didn't get the opportunity to tell you, I loved you, I loved like a son. You were the son I never had.'

Attelus couldn't bring himself even to begin to reply to that; as the tears poured down his face even more potent, they got into his mouth, he could taste the salt inside them. Garrakson broke the hug, and Castella stepped to stand beside him, facing Attelus.

'Keep going, kid,' said Garrakson. 'We don't want you to give up.'

'We'd be so, so proud of you of all you've done, Attelus,' said Castella. 'All you've accomplished, and we'd be even more proud of you if you keep ongoing. You carrying that weight takes a strength of will that's incredible.'

Attelus smeared the tears from his eyes. 'I see. I promise I will take down Etuarq. I will avenge you both.'

Castella and Garrakson exchanged glances and smiled. The two of them had only met once briefly, but now they seemed the best of friends. Attelus now saw that if they'd the opportunity to know one another, they would've been the truest of comrades. They were both among the best people he'd ever known. Why do the good people always have to die? Why? No, that wasn't true; Adelana was still alive despite how close he'd come to killing her.

'Don't worry about that, Attelus,' said Castella. 'What matters to us is that you have found your purpose; you just keep taking one step in front of another.'

'B...But what if I fail again? What if I fall to Chaos?'

Castella leaned over, kissed him on the cheek, and fixed her gaze to his, still smiling warmly. 'Have faith in yourself, Attelus. We do.'

'Or we did,' grinned Garrakson. 'Because we're, you know, dead.'

Attelus snorted as the cynicism hit him. 'What is this? Some psychic vision set up by Farseer Faleaseen to give me some semblance of catharsis?'

Castella shook her head. 'No, Attelus, this is a dream, but it's your dream. We're just telling you what you have always known, deep in your subconsciousness.'

'Yep, that's it,' said Garrakson as they began to fade into shards of nothingness, and he saluted Attelus. 'Goodbye and good luck, kid. There ain't much that I know, but I know without any doubt that you're going to carry that weight.'

Garrakson grinned. 'Now that's the understatement of the millennia...My son.'

Castella made the sign of the Aquila and tilted her head. 'I know you're not exactly the most faithful of the Emperor's servants, but still, may the Emperor be with you. You do His work that I know without any doubt. The Emperor protects, Attelus.'

'The Emperor protects,' Attelus echoed as everything around him began fading away. He'd never said that platitudinous sentence with such feeling before, and he never would again. How fitting that he'd say it that way in a dream.

How fitting indeed.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Just scanned a newer version of the cover! Still a WIP, though!


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Slowly, his eyes opened, and instantly it took all his willpower to prevent them from slamming shut again.

He groaned and clenched his fingers through the silver sheets; then, everything became black. Despite this, Attelus still didn't know he'd fallen asleep until his eyes opened again. He had no clue how long he'd been sleeping for. His eyes hurt; his throat felt like he swallowed magma. Attelus was meant to be an inhuman immortal who could dodge bullets, but he was still too damned human. He laid on his side, watching the darkened wraithbone wall a few metres away and thinking for the hundredth time how strange it was that his bone structure was made from the same alien material.

Attelus cursed Faleaseen's name, but it croaked from his mouth so quietly even his enhanced hearing struggled to find the syllables. But, perhaps...Perhaps he was lucky in a way? In that, he still had his humanity to an extent? He thought of Kalakor how the...Space Marine seemed almost embittered by losing his. Perhaps it was better this way? If Attelus lived for hundreds if not thousands of years, it would allow him to remain empathetic to the rest of mankind? Attelus was finding more and more that we are defined by our limitations as much as our strengths.

And in rare times, a limitation can be a strength or even an advantage in some regards. Countless times an enemy had underestimated Attelus because of his height and build, and countless times they'd paid the price for that.

He sighed and reached with a scrambling hand for the wrist chronometer on the bedside table. It was 3 am sidereal, not that mattered much in the webway, but that meant he'd only been asleep for four hours, and he knew he wouldn't be able to go back to sleep, not for hours more, anyway. Clenching his teeth, Attelus forced his form to sit upright; as he did, the silver sheets slid off his torso, revealing his washboard abs and muscular chest. They didn't need a duvet; the Eldar controlled the environment inside the ship far beyond anything an Imperial vessel could manage.

"They"? The word made him look down at the supine form lying in bed beside him. The sheets coated her smooth, beautiful body in a way that just accentuated her curves and nuances rather than detracts from them. Her back was to him, as she slept on her side, which made him wish to see her hypnotising face as he'd always been a face guy. But the alabaster nape of her neck and the shape of her shoulders the sheet kept naked almost made up for it, and she could stay that way almost indefinitely due to the extensive and expensive rejuvenant she could access. He fought the sudden urge to wake her up, not just for the sex again, but because of the puerile spite and envy which boiled in his chest. That she could still sleep so soundly after everything she'd done was beyond him. Was it because she was stronger than him? Because of the crutch of her damned "faith" in the God-Emperor? Or was she just a psychopath incapable of feeling guilt like his father? Was it because she was a psyker? And a powerful one at that. But Inquisitor Enandra had taught him, due to their connection to the warp, psykers were prone to having the worst of the worst of nightmares. Or perhaps it was because of some sort of training?

Or perhaps...Perhaps she'd fallen so far into the depths of insanity and emerged as someone or something else?

He didn't know, and he would likely never know.

Any man, himself included only a few years ago, wouldn't have wanted anything more in the universe to have a woman like Estella Erith in their bed beside them, but Attelus just felt numb about it.

No, she was no longer Estella Erith, the beautiful, kind, if a prideful, woman he'd fallen in love with as a teenager in the ruins of his home-world so long ago. But now, she was Karmen Kons, the ruthless pragmatist who pushed the philosophy too far even for him. Perhaps that was the reason why. That, and that he wished...He wished it was another woman.

'Adelana,' he hissed.

The name made Karmen stir and murmur making Attelus flinch in fright. Perhaps it did due to her psychic ability. Either that or she pretended to be sleeping; he wouldn't put it past her.

Perhaps that was the real reason he felt so empty; he couldn't trust her. He could never trust her.

With another sigh, Attelus snatched up his pack of Lhos and lunged out of bed, almost forgetting that he was naked. He really needed a frigging smoke.



Only wearing his underwear and his beaten, torn, worn black flak jacket around him, Attelus leaned against the wall beside the door to Karmen's quarters and, with a shaking hand, reached to retrieve his Lho stick between his forefinger and thumb. The fifth he'd smoked in ten minutes.

He rubbed his eyes and thought over his dream again, trying to clutch it, keep it from fading from his memory. A dream like that should've helped him, but he didn't feel any better than before. So it couldn't be true, Garrakson? Thought him of him as a son? Utter Grox gak. He supposed Garrakson had been...a bit like a father to him now he thought about it. He remembered when just after he'd woken up the second time from his coma back on Omnartus how...Elandria had cruelly ripped into him for attempting to sacrifice himself to save the cavorters in the Twilight Bar from the rampaging Arco-Flagellant. Garrakson had lost it; he'd roared at her and sent her out of his room. Attelus had never seen the laid-back Garrakson like that before, but it couldn't be true.

Elandria, what she did to him was horrible; Attelus needed to know if he had saved those innocent people, she'd been there. Castella had said he did, but his paranoia had overwhelmed him, but Elandria had refused to tell him. Now, with hindsight, he understood she'd done it because she was upset that he'd almost gotten himself killed and was too brainwashed, too damaged to convey that hurt in a more healthy way.

Later, when she was dying in his arms, she'd told him he did manage to save them, which destroyed any doubt he didn't, forever.

His train of thought was sent off course as the quiet sound of footfalls filled his ears; he calculated they were about fifteen metres away and approaching fast. Attelus recognised them, and it sent a painful shiver of anxiety through him, which made him wish to retreat inside Karmen's quarters. Still, he fought it and did his best to pretend to ignore Adelana as she emerged from the shadows.

'I...See you are back smoking Lho again.'

Attelus turned to her. She stood a few metres away, her full lips pursed ever so slightly. Her deep blue eyes were infested with red, but he knew it wasn't because he was smoking again. Her pale, high cheekbones: littered with freckles, and her natural red with blonde streaks hair pulled into a ponytail. She wore the elaborate crimson and gold robes that matched her hair an Eldar made her when they'd travelled to Sarkeath. Robes almost as gorgeous as her.

'I am,' he said. 'But, well, in all honesty, can you blame me?'

Her eyes fell to the floor. 'N-no, I suppose not. S-so it's...true then...You and Karmen...are...'

'I...yes,' said Attelus, struggling to swallow the sudden lump in his throat. 'But it's nothing. It's just nothing.'

Her eyes widened, and her arms folded across her chest as her jaw tightened. 'Really, Attelus? Really? Do you really think she thinks it's "nothing"? Everyone knows she's-'

'It's nothing, Adelana. We talked it over. She understands.'

Attelus clenched his teeth, wanting to tell her that this was her fault for abandoning him and their mission. That they should've been together. They shouldn't be like this. Not like this.

'I don't think she does, I think-'

'Please, Adelana. Not now.'

Adelana's hands fell to her sides. 'Okay, fine. But don't come crying to me when you break her heart.'

'What? Like you did to me?' Attelus blurted out.

Her bravado disappeared, and her gaze lowered again. 'I...well...I....thought...'

'Thought I understood, did you? Believe me, I do. I really frigging do. Now leave me the hell alone.'

Tear swirled in Adelana's eyes, and she turned away, sending a chill of guilt shivering through Attelus.

'Adelana!' he called to her back, making her stop. 'I...I'm sorry. I...do understand. I do. You can't do this anymore, and well, that's more than fair enough. After that...hell.'

She turned back to him, the tears now falling down her face. 'No, I am sorry, Attelus. I wish I could keep going with you, but I just can't anymore. I can't. I'm sorry.'

Attelus shrugged, forcing a fake smile to cross his face, a smile he knew she'd see straight through. But even still, she returned her own, and it was adorable. 'Have you decided what you'll do?' he said. 'I mean, when we get back to the Calixis sector, Adelana? Back to The Audacious Edge?'

'Nope, not yet.'

'Adelana y...You could stay on the Audacious Edge, you know. Work in the Librarium with...with uhh. Uhh.'

'For frig's sake, Attelus. Her name's Seleen Gorret. You should remember her name by now.'

'I know, I know, I'm sorry,' said Attelus, raising a placating hand. Seleen was another survivor of the Omnartus Incident. She was a civilian in the truest definition of the word, and while she wasn't exactly the most attractive on the outside, inside, she was truly a good person. She'd been there the most for Adelana after Omnartus death; they were the truest of friends; it helped they'd worked together in Taryst's tower in the mailroom. Not just that, it turned out that Seleen was from Attelus' home-world and country Velrosia, although she hailed from the south.

Adelana wiped the tears from her eyes, then from his, looking at the wall. 'I-I've been thinking about it. It's an option; I really don't have anywhere else to go...'

Attelus frowned, and his gaze fell, unable to find a reply to that.

'But we both know that you only suggest that so you can keep in touch with me,' she said.

He looked back up at her, and much to his shock, found she was smiling at him, and he couldn't help share a slow one back; then she nodded slightly, turned and skipped away.

Attelus' watched her for a while before managing to tear his attention away. Was there still a possibility? He shook his head. It seemed too good to be true; it had to be. His psychopath of a father had taught him many things but the phrase "if it seems too good to be true, then it usually was" was one he still believed in wholeheartedly. If he and Adelana got together, he'd be one of the happiest men in the whole galaxy. Perhaps...Perhaps, because of all he'd done, all the killing, this was the universe's way of punishing him? Perhaps he didn't deserve happiness?

He sighed out smoke. Attelus had said that to Adelana back on Sarkeath; he would carry this weight so someone else less deserving wouldn't have to. If that was the case, frig it, that would be the price he'd have to pay. And frig the Chaos gods, frig Etuarq, frig the Imperium and even frig the Emperor he was doing it for himself and humanity, and he wouldn't give up again.

Never again.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2024/03/08 03:26:19


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus dodged Raloth Arlyandor's horizontal slash and counted with an upward diagonal cut that sent the Eldar skipping back, pirouetting, then only just managing to parry Attelus' following thrust. Raloth riposted into a downward vertical blow, and Attelus stepped aside from it and darted for the autarch's flank, slicing for his ribs. Raloth clenched his teeth as he desperately threw himself away from the blow, but Attelus had expected this and sent out a round kick that smashed against the wrong-footed Eldar's knee, which sent him falling for the floor.

Attelus spun his de-activated powersword into a reverse grip, then into an upward, vertical slice that tinged off the falling autarch's armoured ribs. A blow that would've sliced through his torso if the power-field was on.

His almond-shaped eyes wide with surprise, Raloth hit the floor, but in a split second, was back on his feet.

'Well, that was...impressive,' said Raloth, despite being short for an Eldar Raloth still towered over Attelus, especially with his long brown hair being tied into a topknot and the pair of flags on the backpack of his formfitting green armour. 'You have improved...considerably since our last sparring match, I see. You were unable to defeat me before.'

Attelus reply was a nod as he fell into another fighting stance.

'Oh? Not interested in bandying any words,' said Raloth as he readied himself. 'That I can respect.'

Then they launched into another match. Every second they exchanged dozens of attacks, but to Attelus, every second felt like a minute. He could tell the autarch was now using every ounce of his skill and experience. But yet, the bout finished with Raloth's sword being flung from his grasp, clanging through the training room and the point of Attelus' blade aimed at his throat.

'I...I cannot believe how much you have improved. I cannot understand how this is possible,' said Raloth through gritted teeth.

'That's what us humans must do; we live such short lives in comparison to you, we have to improve...fast. We adapt; we evolve. It was the hell I just fought through on Sarkeath which forced me to improve so far and so fast.'

'But you are perpetual now so-'

'I'm still human, Raloth,' said Attelus. 'And I always will be. No better or lesser than any other.'

Raloth looked at Attelus with wide eyes, seemingly taken aback by the Throne Agent's intensity, then he smiled. 'I...see. Not just that, but now you seem engulfed by a new and powerful determination.'

The Eldar turned away and went to retrieve his sword.

'And I'm frigging angry at you.'

Attelus' words made Raloth freeze.

'We needed you,' said Attelus. 'You and your warriors down there, you had an entire army, and you just...left us to that hell.'

'I am sorry,' said Raloth as he turned back to Attelus. 'I would-'

'No, no excuses,' said Attelus. 'I refuse to be your pawn any longer, whether it's a diplomatic go-between for our species or as your spy, warrior, assassin, whatever. Next time we need you, and you're able to fight, you fight. From now on, we are truly allies, equals. Like you had claimed in your speech.'

'But the Farseer-'

'No, screw Faleaseen. Screw her. You said it yourself; soon, you'll have to fight; you can't keep avoiding it forever. You just can't leave us with this burden.'

Raloth's face turned red, his expression curling into an ugly scowl which made Attelus take a step back, his chest suddenly crawling with cold claws of anxiety.

'I have...never...heard such disrespect for my Farseer in my entire life! How d-'

Attelus found his ground. 'Don't you dare hide behind self-righteous indignation! You know I'm right, you bastard.'

Tears welled in Attelus' eyes. 'I lost four people, four comrades I cared so much for, who'd fought through so much and Emperor only knows how many good, loyal men and women of the Imperial Guard!'

'Casualties are just a fact of war! Get used to it. Do not attempt to lay the blame upon me.'

'Then why is it any different for you than me. You're in this damned war too.'

'Because there are so few of us left. My people are nearing extinction, Attelus. Not just the people of my Craftworld but my whole race.'

Attelus sighed. 'I'm sorry, Raloth. I am, but this fight is for the survival of the Eldar themselves; Faleaseen and Warlock Klrith both said that if that psychopath Etuarq succeeds, you will all die anyway. Isn't that worth fighting for? Isn't that worth dying for?'

'We...we no longer have guidance from the skeins of fate and-'

'So what? So frigging what. We don't have the luxury of far sight, but we still went down to Sarkeath and fought and bled and died for what we believed in. If we can do it, the supposed so damn superior Eldar can do it too.'

'I do not-'

'No, you don't believe that, but so many of you do, don't they? You know what I think? The ability has become a crutch, like a power-field on a powersword. You have to start moving forward without it. You have to.'

Raloth didn't reply; he just swallowed and finally retrieved his sword.

Attelus stayed silent, anxiety still in him. Had he said too much? Had he just upset the autarch so much that Raloth was going to end the alliance and kick them out of his ship to get lost in the webway forever? He wanted to apologise, but he kept his tongue pushed against the inside of his cheek.

'I understand, Attelus Kaltos,' said Raloth after what seemed like hours. 'You are correct, but there is one problem with your assertion.'

'Th-there is?'

The autarch's eyes met Attelus'. 'If we had come down with you, you would not have gone through the struggle that has strengthened you into who you are now.'

Attelus had no idea how to reply to that, and Raloth said, 'I see that your skill with the blade is only exceeded by your wisdom, young Attelus.'

Raloth sighed. 'I...just let me think upon this. So please, would you leave.'

All Attelus could manage was a nod before he turned and went to go.

Attelus paused at the door as the realisation of what he wanted to say hit him like a punch between the eyes, and he turned back to Raloth.

'Do you want to know the real reason you lost our sparring matches? '

'As I recall, I asked you to leave, so please do.'

'Not until I say this, you lost because you are afraid. You said yourself I have a newfound determination.'

'But I have a purpose, young Attelus.'

'You do. But have you truly embraced it?'

The autarch said nothing, just stared at Attelus with wide eyes.

'I know fear. I know it perhaps more than anyone else in the cosmos. And I recognise it in you. In your people, the trauma of losing you Craftworld has engraved it into you like the trauma of the war on my homeworld did for me and-'

'That is enough!' snarled Raloth. 'Are you calling me a coward? Are you calling my people cowards?'

'N-no. If you were truly cowards, you wouldn't be here helping me, helping us, right now. But-'

'But nothing, Attelus Kaltos. Just leave. You have had your peace.'

'No! Frig you, by preventing your people from fighting, you're not protecting them! Not any more! You're just making it that they're unable to fight for what they believe for, for their people and their craftworld.'

Raloth's face darkened, but he stayed silent.

Attelus nodded. 'That's it, that's all I had to say. I'm sorry if it upset you.

Then he left.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Writer's Note: I don't know if anyone noticed or cared, but I was updating Secret War and Secret War: Upon Blood Sands weekly; seen as though we're on The Annihilation Plague, the latest story it's catching up with what I've done, so it's now fortnightly. Anyway! Please enjoy!

Also, an updated version of my cover.



Hayden Tresch walked through the main corridor, which cut through the quarters, allotted them by the Eldar. His Long-las slung over his broad shoulder. The lack of any rumbling through the walls and the absence of the strange scent of the recycled oxygen were still disconcerting to him, but it had only been four days since the Eldar had picked them up from Sarkeath. But his lack of adaptability was getting to him; was it because he was getting old? Either way-

He stopped in his stride as he felt the presence behind him.

'Darrance,' said Hayden, looking over his shoulder. 'That's you, isn't it?'

Darrance seemed to materialise from the shadows, smiling his insufferably smug, aristocratic smile. 'So, you finally detected me, Hayden.'

Hayden couldn't help grimace. 'Who put you up to this, Attelus?'

'That he did,' said Darrance. 'He is now the master, after all. And can you blame him for wanting someone to keep an eye on you after what just occurred?'

'I am free of taint, Saderth. After so many years, I thought you would know me enough by now.'

'Maybe,' said Darrance, his arms folding across his lithe chest. 'But you were more than vocal about selling your very soul to Chaos back on Sarkeath. You were more than willing to just slaughter innocent civilians like dogs on the behest of a heretic. You, and that fool Vark.'

Hayden sneered. 'I only proposed what I believed was necessary so we could accomplish our mission. And you couldn't have known they were innocent.'

'An action so necessary that the mission would be rendered meaningless by you, and all those with you, becoming pawns of the blood god.'

Hayden hesitated in his reply; he'd never seen Darrance so full of rage before. 'Saderth, the very walls were closing in on us to crush us all. It was better the supposed civilians, who were likely tainted, die than all of us. It was a no-win situation, damn it. Tell me, what would've you done? Huh?'

Darrance shrugged, but the anger in his eyes and body language didn't abate. 'I do not know what I would have done, and I thank my luck that I wasn't there with you. But I know what you should have done-'

'Oh frigging spare me, I already had that crap from that little bitch Adelana. You self-righteous-'

'What? I am a "little bitch" is that it now, Hayden?'

Both Hayden and Darrance flinched, and Hayden whirled around, Long-Las in his hands and readied to find Adelana approaching him from about six metres down the corridor.

'By the Emperor, girl, you have me a fright,' said Darrance, but Hayden fixed her with his best withering glare as he lowered his rifle.

Adelana didn't even flinch; her pretty blue eyes fixed to Hayden's. 'I'm sorry, Darrance. So, Hayden Tresch, is that what I am to you now, is it? "A little bitch"?'

'Yes,' said Hayden and fighting to urge to smile at Adelana's flinch. 'Especially now because you're just about to abandon us.'

Hayden turned back to Darrance. Hayden went to speak, but Adelana's words interrupted him.

'I...you can call me a "bitch" all you want, Hayden. I'm sorry you think that way about me. I'm sorry that I'm about to abandon you. But it hurt, I think it hurt all of us, that you lacked such faith in us that you-'

'Shut up!' Hayden snarled. 'Just shut it. I won't hear any of this gak again!'

'Commissar Tathe and Dellenger had more faith in us than you did,' said Adelana.

'And not just that, Hayden,' said Darrance. 'I asked you before you entered that tower that you did all you could to fight that corruption, and for all you frigging know, that could have been my last will and testament. And I think you failed it.'

Hayden gaped. 'What? But wasn't it Attelus frigging Kaltos who took that daemon sword and slaughtered a whole bunch of people with it? Including Jelket, Verenth and Helma? Our friends? Our comrades? He murdered them. You should be on his case, not mine!'

'That is true, Hayden,' said Darrance. 'But this is not about him; this is about you.'

'Oh, frig off,' said Hayden. 'Frig off the both of you! I am done with this grox gak.'

Then he turned and stormed off, Adelana barely managing to get out of his way before he barged her over.



Adelana watched Hayden walk away, then looked at Darrance, and he looked back. She quickly found she couldn't think of anything to say to him, she never really could, so she started walking on and past him.

When she was a few metres away, he called, 'I am sorry, but I must say that it is a shame that you are leaving us.'

Adelana stopped.

'Miss Adelana, you have such talent and potential it would be a shame if it goes to waste and Attelus-'

'Please, Darrance. Please don't make this any harder than it is.'

There was a pause.

'Yes, I understand. My apologies. Please carry on, and I must keep an eye on Hayden.'

Adelana turned back to him, but he had disappeared. She smiled, Darrance always kept up an uppity, pompous front, but everyone knew he was a wise, caring person deep down. She will miss him despite all his flaws.

She was going to miss all of them, and it hurt; it hurt so damn much.



With a snarl, Tathe's sick kick sent trooper Sottec off his feet and crashing against the padded floor.

Trooper Voltia charged Tathe, stabbing for the Commissar's guts with the barrel of his lasgun. Tathe slipped aside it and sent a front kick into the side of the lasgun, sending the trooper stumbling. Then Tathe placed the flat of his inactive powersword against the side of Voltia's neck. Sottec, by then, was on his feet again and coming at Tathe's flank with a roar and swinging up the butt of his lasgun, sending Tathe slipping back. Sottec spun the gun, swinging in a one-handed, wild diagonal arc for Tathe's skull. The Commissar leaned out the way, but the momentary distraction allowed trooper Sottec to lunge the distance between then. Tathe threw himself out the way of the trooper's swinging rifle butt, his storm cloak whirling in his wake. Tathe spun, bringing around his sword in a two-handed bash which caught Sottec's stabbing rifle and sent it off course. Then Tathe reversed his blade and crashed its cross guard across the guardsman's face in a spray of blood.

Sottec cried out, reeling and clutching at his nose. Tathe's front kick smashed against Sottec's ribs, throwing the soldier reeling off his feet and crashing to the floor.

His teeth clenching, Tathe began to approach Sottec, but a voice called out, causing him to stop.

'That is enough,' it boomed, so strong and resonating, it coursed through Tathe's diaphragm painfully, and the source emerged from the shadows. A two-and-a-half-metre tall Space Marine wearing the black and white armour of the Raven Guard. The distinct beak of the helm and sleek design of Mk IV in comparison to other marks of power armour made him seem much like the bird his chapter was named after and the namesake of the armour "Corvus", which was High Gothic for "Raven."

Everyone but Tathe backed a few steps, the sudden appearance of the superhuman warrior filling them with fear. 'You have broken the man's nose; he is downed; you have already won.'

Tathe sneered. 'Whatever you say, Kalakor.'

'What I say is the truth, Commissar. You know this.'

'And why do you frigging care, huh?'

Kalakor shrugged a disconcertingly human motion from such an inhuman creature. 'I care because you are in danger of giving in to anger, anger you must keep under your control as a leader of men.

'See?' said Tathe as he glanced over the remaining few men and women of the Elbyran contingent. 'The Space Marine doesn't really care about us, he-'

Kalakor raised his gauntleted hand, which made Tathe's cynical words halt in his throat. 'On the contrary, I do care. All of you fought through one hell of a conflict won a battle that should not have been won with great valour, skill and discipline. Even if many of you came within an inch of falling over the precipice into corruption, you have earned my respect, and thus, I only wish you to live up to your best selves, and that includes you, Commissar Delan Tathe. Mankind will need you at your very best when you begin partaking in this secret war.'

'Would you still call me a Commissar now?' said Tathe. 'Even after I collaborated with Xenos and foolish agents of the damnable Inquisition.'

'You and your men are not entitled as "Throne Agents" as of yet, and you have not been formally discharged from the Imperial Guard, or in your case, the Commissariat so that I would deem the title still applicable.'

Tathe couldn't help roll his eyes. 'I didn't mean that literally...Well, perhaps I did, but, uhh...'

What seemed like laughter grew from the Space Marine's helmet grill, slow and echoing and threatening. 'You mortals can be such amusing little creatures.'

His shoulders simmering, Tathe bit his tongue before he said something foolish, and it was Sottec who clutched his nose between finger and thumb in a fruitless bid to stop the bleeding who spoke, 'What's your story then, Space Marine? Why are you travelling with us and the frigging Eldar instead of going back to your chapter?'

'My story does not matter, soldier of the Imperial Guard only the story of what is to come, and you heard what the she-psyker Karmen Kons told us all. I have to aid in this. It is far more important than meeting with my brothers.'

'So, does that mean once we meet this Inquisitor Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus, you'll use an Astropath to send your chapter a message of this?' said Tathe; he was suspicious of Kalakor, he didn't quite know why. He seemed like many of the Adeptus Astartes he'd seen, met and fought alongside over the years. Still, there was something off about Kalakor, most especially his ability to just appear out of nowhere.

The Space Marine's red, inscrutable lenses tilted toward Tathe. 'Indeed. Assuming that this Inquisitor Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus accepts our offer for aid and does not have all of you executed for being tainted.'

'All of us, Kalakor,' said Tathe.

The Space Marine snorted. 'I meant what I had said, Commissar. They would execute you; they would try to execute me. As you do not-'

'Yes, yes, we understood your implication,' said Tathe. 'Thank you, Kalakor.'

'Not a problem.'

That took Tathe aback, but Kalakor's laughter showed that he didn't mean it. 'Anyway, now you have managed to calm yourself, please continue your training. Do not let me stall you any longer; I just wish to stand witness for a bit longer.'

Tathe nodded and cleared his throat. 'Well, I can't stop you, do whatever the hell you want. Alright! Enough time-wasting back to it!'

With satisfying alacrity, his men started slipping back into their lines, and Tathe reminded himself yet again that after this, he had to revisit Scout-trooper Dellenger.

Dellenger had yet to wake up, and Tathe had a frig-ton of questions to ask him when he did, as not even a friend a comrade who he had fought alongside many times for decades wasn't above his suspicions.

Or a friend, a comrade he'd once thought he knew.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2022/02/17 08:06:27


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Karmen woke, her eyes fluttering open despite how much they seemed to wish to close again. She then sensed the absence and turned in the sheets. Attelus was gone; she wasn't surprised in spite of her hammering heart.

With a sigh, she sat up, careful to keep the sheet from falling despite being alone and glanced around. The strange circular room-chamber made from a peculiar alien material was beyond foreign to her. It was weird there was no humming or tang of recycled air; it was also strange that if she or Attelus approached the edge of the room wanting a shower, the walls would grow out to make a bathroom like they had a life of its own.

It was strange, alien, but also vaguely familiar like something was ticking in the back of her skull that she had seen this before.

That forced her back, back inside that damned tower lobby, facing down a daemon of The Changer of Ways. Her hands raised in a desperate bid to tear down its kine shield and open it to the withering shots of her friends.

While it managed to not only protect itself with its shield but summon its minions from the immaterium, it got inside her head.

Karmen closed her eyes, trying to force the memory away, but it seemed to become embedded in her train of thought.

It said it found a blocked-out part of her memory, hidden from her and attempted to bargain with her by promising to unlock it if she stopped tearing down its shield. She'd refused, of course, snarling The Emperor's Prayer in defiance. A daemon's word was worth less than dirt so far as she was concerned.

But she'd managed it, somehow, and the daemon fell, thrown back whence it came; she'd lost all of her strength and consciousness, but she'd succeeded. The irony was that it was a part of Kalakor's plan, but he didn't want her to tear down the shield just "try to" Karmen decided to frig him and did it to prove not just her strength of will and power, but to spite the Space Marine.

It'd turned out to be a mistake, as Kalakor had a way to bypass the shield, making Karmen useless for the rest of the fight. It was partly because Kalakor hadn't informed her of his plan, but that was because the daemon might've taken it from her surface thoughts.

Anyway, the abominations of the warp lay; it was a fact as old as the Imperium of Mankind itself. But the strange familiarity of this place and it had claimed that...

Karmen clenched her teeth and shook her head so hard it sent pain blurting inside her skull. She couldn't, wouldn't dwell on the daemon's claims in that waylaid madness, which was likely its true intention.

She threw off the sheets and slipped off the bed, and went to retrieve her bodyglove, clenching her teeth to keep her mind focused. A few minutes after she had dressed, the door slid open, and Attelus stepped in, a Lho stick in his mouth, hands in the pockets of his flak jacket as per the norm for him.

It saddened Karmen Attelus had gone back to the dirty habit; it represented a huge regression in his mental health. That and she frigging hated the smell.

'You're awake,' Attelus said as he walked in. 'Good to see. There's some stuff I wish to talk about.'

For some reason, that made Karmen's heart shudder. 'Such as?'

Attelus shrugged. 'I suppose we'll start on how we're going to talk to Jelcine about Tathe and his men.'

Karmen held back a relieved sigh. 'I would allow the Commissar to speak on his own behalf. That man...that man could...'

Attelus smirked. 'That man could what? Should I be jealous, perhaps?'

Karmen felt her face flush. 'N-no, just that it seems Delan Tathe could speak his way out of anything.'

Attelus frowned. 'Couldn't speak his way out of being under my father's thumb back on Omnartus. Do you think that Jelcine Enandra would be so sentimental toward him?'

'But-'

'Karmen, you're blinded by his reputation. I understand, but we both know you idolised them far more than I did. You were the one who'd wished to join their ranks so much.'

'Yeah, fine, maybe,' said Karmen. 'But I think there's something else that takes priority over Tathe and his men.'

Attelus sighed and hung his head, emphasising his bad posture all the more. Bad posture which returned right after the hell they fought through on Sarkeath, along with his Lho smoking habit. 'Kalakor.'

'Yes, Kalakor, frig you,' said Karmen. 'Here we have a Space Marine, a supposed veteran sergeant of The Raven Guard but who displays incredible skill at sorcery, one of the most forbidden things of the Imperium and for good reason-'

'Yes, yes.'

'...Do not "yes, yes." me-'

'I'm sorry, but I already know that gak, Karmen. So please spare me the reiteration.'

Karmen folded her arms across her diaphragm. 'Tell men Attelus, have you asked him about his long and storied history yet?'

Attelus pursed his red lips, which contrasted his pale skin and shuffled his foot; by the Emperor, he could act like such a frigging child! 'No...'

'Why?'

'I just haven't gotten around to it yet.'

'Or you just have not worked up the courage yet?'

He shrugged. 'A little of column "A", a little of column "B", in all honesty.'

Karmen sighed and facepalmed.

'What? Can you frigging blame me?'

'You told me he was open to informing you of it; you are an agent of the Inquisition, Attelus. Such timidity is unbecoming of someone of your stature. For frig's sake, you sparred him, didn't you? You have killed several of his kind already. You have to do it soon as we'll be in the Calixis Sector in only a few days.'

'I don't know, Karmen,' said Attelus, back to doing that damn shuffling again. 'Sometimes ignorance can be bliss...'

'Indeed, but you are going to throw away that bliss, Attelus. Why the frig does this happen? You attract new followers like frigging cats and...stray mysterious Space Marines. It's a pain in the arse.'

'Followers? Followers? What are you on about? Most of them frigging hate me, Commissar Tathe, especially, and as I recall, it was you who'd convinced them with your retelling of our misadventures.'

Karmen frowned. 'That may be so, but I still think it's you.'

'Grox gak,' said Attelus as his gaze fell to the floor. 'I'm no leader. The gak show on Sarkeath showed that.'

Karmen shook her head, wanting to argue that but managing to stop herself. 'Well, it happened to me, didn't it?'

'W-what?' said Attelus, his brow furrowing in bemusement.

'In the ruins of your home city, Varander, remember?'

Attelus' eyes narrowed. 'I forgot a lot of that, remember?'

She couldn't help but flinch and look away. 'Y-you will never forgive me for that, will you?'

He looked at her with a tearful gaze which she supposed was guilt. 'I...I don't know, Estella. Maybe one day. Maybe one day.'

Attelus approached her so close they came almost nose to nose. 'Estella, how about we make a deal, huh?'

'Hmm, what kind of deal?'

He kissed her on the mouth.

'I would have never guessed it would be something like that,' said Karmen.

'Hmm, you can't read my mind, after all.'

'But, Attelus. I just put my bodyglove back on...'

'Well, it has to come off again, I'm afraid,' said Attelus. 'You do want me to go talk to Kalakor, don't you?'

'Attelus, that's tantamount to blackmail.'

He kissed her again. 'That's the best kind of mail, though.'

Karmen laughed. 'I have heard many lame lines over the years, and that one has to be one of the lamest.'

'Only one of the lamest? I'll have to try harder next time, then,' he said while starting to unzip her bodyglove.

She wanted to reply but soon found herself unable to make out much of a coherent sentence.

Karmen was glad of this because what she wanted to say more than the galaxy was, 'I love you.'



Marcel Torris, along with Halsin and Delathasi, walked into the training hall the Imperial Guardsmen and women were still in the midst of their close quarters sparring on the softened parts of the floor. All of them were a blur of skill and speed. It really reminded Torris how elite the Velrosian and the rest of the Elbyran soldiers truly were. Even if Torris didn't think much of such obsessive close-quarters combat practice, marksmanship, in his eyes, was a far more critical skill.

That and fighting alongside them for hours on end.

Commissar Tathe watched on, stroking his chin as he strode back and forth. He was the very image of the Imperial Hero, the stereotypical, ruthless bastard Commissar in his ragged storm coat, black carapace armour, and curved, fancy power sword sheathed at his hip. His handsome, tanned face was scarred, two crisscrossed his left cheek, and one ran down from his forehead to his right cheek.

Torris began to approach the Commissar, but he couldn't help but halt as the massive silhouette of Kalakor lurking in the corner of the room caught his eye.

The Marine gave Torris the slightest of nods which Torris returned before beginning on again.

'Does the Space Marine scare you as well?' said Delathasi, the tall long-limbed young assassin apprentice's gaze was fixated on Kalakor.

Torris shrugged, unwilling to admit he did and yet again bemused by Delathasi someone in her line of work would be so open with her emotion and fears.

'I am,' said Halsin, the young medicae's attention, by contrast, was on his feet, his hawk-like nose almost covering his small mouth entirely. 'But there is a lot I am scared of, so...'

'But yet you haven't shirked from your duties,' said Tathe as he turned to them. 'I was informed of how you managed to keep your head while treating my soldiers in the medicae truck with great skill as we battled the enemy just outside the whole time. That is the very definition of courage, young man. So don't be too hard on yourself, medicae Halsin.'

Halsin stopped, his jaw-dropping.

Tathe looked to Torris. 'Does this mean...?'

Torris nodded. 'Yes, Commissar, he's finally woken up. But he's barely holding onto consciousness. But Halsin says he's good enough for you to speak to.'

A grin of triumph spread slowly across Tathe's face, and he spun away, calling for his trooper's attention. 'I have great news, everyone! Scout-trooper Dellenger has woken!'

Torris had thought this would make the troopers cheer in joy, but they looked more confused than anything. And in hindsight, Torris couldn't blame them; the wound that Attelus had, while taken over by that daemonic blade, dealt the scout sergeant a wound that should've killed him outright.

'...How?' said one trooper, one of the few Sovrithians that had elected to leave with them.

'By the grace of the God-Emperor, of course,' said Tathe, but to Torris' attuned hearing and reading of tone and body language, the statement rang false. 'And I am going to talk to him.'

Torris did not doubt that Tathe was a great leader and warrior, who truly cared for his men, but much of it was a front. Commissar Delan Tathe was a combat-fatigued, almost broken person who had no real fire behind his actions any more. This Torris suspected was due to the death of the woman he loved back on Sarkeath scout-sergeant Adreen. Or maybe not, as Torris had suspected this on his first meeting with Tathe.

Which, ironically, made Commissar Tathe an even greater man than the facade he showed and the hero the propaganda claimed. That Tathe kept going despite this for his soldiers and image was frigging admirable, to say the damn least.

But the platitude seemed enough for the soldiers as they began to lighten up then; finally, their whoops and cheers rose.

Tathe looked back to Torris. 'Let's go,' he said.

In silence, with Halsin, Delathasi and Torris just behind him, Delan Tathe walked through the strange corridors.

Tathe didn't mind the silence, and he suspected his throne agent companions didn't either, but he felt he should get to know his new...allies? Employers? Friends? Comrades? Tathe wasn't sure what term he should use for them yet.

'Hmm,' mused Tathe. 'Halsin, Torris, Delathasi, I hope you don't mind if I ask you about yourselves. What home worlds are you from?'

He glanced back at the three throne agents and found to his little surprise, they were glancing among themselves, bemusement written across their faces.

'I suppose not,' said Torris with a sigh. 'I am from Malfi.'

Tathe's eyes widened despite himself. 'Malfi?' he said, forcing down the many terms he wished to use to describe that cursed hive world.

'Yes, Malfi. I was raised in the Schola Progenium there, so had nothing to do with the gakky aristocracy that world is infamous for, just like most of the normal people there,' said Torris. 'Have you been there, Commissar?'

'No, can't say I have.'

'It's just as horrible as you might think, I was lucky, I suppose,' said Torris. 'Then joined the Adeptus Arbites when I left.'

'Yes,' said Tathe. 'I was informed of your status as a former enforcer of the Arbites. How about you, Delathasi?'

Despite the young woman's dark skin, her blushing was quite distinct; she would've been quite cute, even with her boxer's nose and extensive acne, if it wasn't for the fact she was a ruthless, trained killer. Tathe had fought alongside her, and while her skill with her dual swords wasn't the greatest Tathe had seen in his long and storied career, her willingness to use combat enhancement drugs more than made up for that. 'I am not permitted to share that information without the permission of my master, I am afraid.'

Tathe nodded, unsurprised by this, but he suspected her master, Saderth Darrance, wouldn't have minded. 'Makes sense. What about you, young Mr Halsin?'

'Omnartus,' said Halsin.

'Oh,' said Tathe and the will to continue getting to know his new colleagues drained from him, and an awkward one overtook the once comfortable silence, and Tathe couldn't have been more pleased when they walked by the two Velrosian troops standing guard at Dellenger's door and into the medical chamber. Only one patient lay in the strange cocoon-like bed, and the Eldar warlock in his high helm and flowing robes stood over Dellenger, looked up at Tathe as they entered.

Tathe stopped, his grasp shooting to his powersword.

'Be still your hand, mon...human,' said the Eldar, his voice echoing from his helm in an eldritch fashion. 'I am merely here to check up on the patient.'

Tathe kept his hand next to his sword, which was exactly what the Eldar asked, ironically. 'I'm just not used to seeing an Eldar who isn't trying to kill me yet.'

The Eldar did something which might've been a sigh. 'Yes, yes, you are a great warrior and all that, who has split the blood of countless of my people, I am sure. Although, if it is mostly the dark kin, I suppose I can forgive it to an extent.'

'Klrith...' said Halsin.

'Halsin, your skill at healing is...impressive, but your methods are...if I might be honest, primitive, and this Dellenger-human might have died by now if it was not for me. Although...'

Dellenger's pained face was somehow paler than the norm, almost as white as the wraithbone walls and the sheets that didn't prevent him from fixing the Eldar with one of his patented withering glares.

'He should be long dead.'

Tathe shrugged. 'I wish to speak to him now he's awake...Klrith. That's your name, right?'

'One of my names...human.' said the warlock. 'And I am not preventing you from speaking to him, and it will not interfere with my work, so you may indeed speak to him.'

'I would prefer...' Tathe trailed away as the warlock turned back to Dellenger and raised his slender, armoured hands over him, and the familiar tingling of psychic power began dancing its way over Tathe's pores.

Frowning, Tathe approached Dellenger's bedside. 'It's good to see you're awake again, old friend.'

Dellenger didn't meet Tathe's gaze; his black hair was messed up, and his eyes ringed with deep, black bags. 'I...' the scout-trooper's voice was barely audible as it emerged from his dry lips. 'I'm...still your friend?'

Tathe smiled, and as the wish to sit rose in his mind, a chair began to grow from the floor like a tree sped through time, and Tathe sat and by the Emperor was it comfortable. 'Yes, you are.'

'You...must have a few...questions.'

Tathe glanced back at Halsin, Torris and Delathasi, who watched on with great interest. 'Not just me, I'm afraid.'

Dellenger nodded. 'O...of course. I'm...sorry...I haven't been honest with you...with Adreen. With...everyone. Maybe...it's a good time...I finally lay it all out...huh? Get it off my...chest.'

The scout trooper managed to gurgle a brief laugh at his terrible joke, as it was a cut across his chest that almost killed him; he was lucky; if the cut had been a centimetre deeper, it would've sliced through his heart, but Tathe didn't laugh. Dellenger rarely joked or even laughed; it seemed out of character for him, almost disturbingly so.

'Maybe. Take your time, old friend.'

'You must've...wondered...where I...got all my forbidden knowledge...from, right?'

'I did. Many times.'

'My...master taught it to me...Many...many years ago.'

'Your master? Like the master of scouts back in Velrosia?'

Dellenger shook his head. 'No, my real master. Ahh, frig it, I'm just going to cut to the chase. Do you remember the legends? The legends...of Prince Royd Destrillion Antares of Velrosia?'

'Of course I do. I don't understand. What the hell does that have to do with this?'

'Please, Delan, it does...have a lot to do with this...You remember the mercenary? The one that worked with Royd after his ill-fated infiltration into Maranger with 1st regiment?'

Tathe's brow furrowed, and he glanced over his shoulder at the Inquisition agents again. 'Y-yes, his name was Adrassil, wasn't it? Come on, Dellenger this is-'

'Delan, I'm Adrassil.'

Tathe's eyes widened. 'What? That...That's.'

'There is...a lot of things...the legend doesn't tell, my friend,' said Dellenger. 'Such as the true...extent of my involvement in the...conflict...the involvement of my people in the true war, the shadow war against the real enemy.'

'This is...ridiculous. You're saying you're Adrassil? You think you're Adrassil himself? That would make you over one thousand years old.'

'I...is that so out of the realm of reality, Delan?' said Dellenger. 'I could've been...cryogenically...frozen. Or-'

'Elbyra didn't have that technology back then,' said Tathe. 'We were a feudal world. We weren't brought into the fold of the Imperium until around one hundred and fifty years ago.'

'Th-that's true, but...Ahh, damn...We...I...Just...'

'You just, what?'

'You...couldn't come back later...Delan? I just...can't explain this...right now.'

Tathe nodded and stood. 'Yes, okay. I'm not sure how much of this ridiculousness I can take any more.'

For a split second, Dellenger's eyes became filled with such sadness, Tathe couldn't help but pause as guilt pulsed inside him. 'Y-you asked me for the...truth, Delan.'

Tathe just grimaced, then turned and left.



'What do you think?' said Tathe as he, Torris, Delathasi and Halsin loited in the corridor.

Torris' eyes widened as if shocked Tathe would deign to ask him such a question. 'Think of what?'

Tathe fought the urge to roll his eyes. 'Of what scout-trooper Dellenger just said. Do you think he was telling me the truth? I was told about your skill at reading people, Torris. This was why I'd asked you to keep an eye on him.'

Torris shrugged. 'I see...I think I need a little more time, but-'

'But what?'

'I think he is.'

Tathe furrowed his brow. 'I see, then maybe I should ask Attelus, then. See what he knows of the legend. He wanted to be a historian, and he's from Velrosia, isn't he?'

'Indeed,' said Halsin. 'I am impressed by how much you remember about us, sir. Although it seems his knowledge might not be-'

'I have to try,' said Tathe. 'I'm afraid if he thinks he's telling the truth, it might mean...'

'That he's lost his mind?' said Torris.

Tathe nodded.

'Or scout-trooper Dellenger could be telling the truth,' said Delathasi. 'Master Attelus Kaltos claimed he is what is called a "perpetual" immortal-'

'Frig off,' said Tathe as he turned and walked away.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2023/01/26 19:11:23


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Adelana sat in the eating chamber and took another fork full of the food laid out on the table before her and stared at the wall. Thinking things over, she didn't know what she was going to do, working in the Audacious Edge as civilian staff did seem perfect, but would Inquisitor Enandra accept her request? Would she even let Adelana leave service as a Throne Agent? Three years ago, when Adelana watched her world die, she'd threatened to commit...commit...to end herself. Still, the Inquisitor hadn't liked that using the saying "only in death does duty end." and that Adelana had "potential". So would she do it again? Force Adelana into continuing fighting?

A sting of anxiety shivered inside her chest; she couldn't go back; it was too much. Too much.

She clenched her teeth and managed to smother that feeling. Adelana couldn't handle it any more. It was ironic she of all people should be driven to take down that bastard Etuarq it was her world that died because of him. Adelana frowned, wishing Seleen was here, she was always supporting and held wisdom in her advice.

But what was worst of all was the guilt, when she'd said sorry to Attelus earlier, she'd meant it. She felt like she was abandoning them, and she was, but she just couldn't do it any more. The bloody horrible conflict on Sarkeath and all the horrific gak she'd seen and done in the three years since the death of Omnartus, it was too much. Far too much.

Attelus seemed to understand, and she hoped he would speak on her behalf if Inquisitor Enandra refused her request to leave service. But, she doubted that the Inquisitor would let her leave the organisation even if she allowed Adelana to stop fighting. She knew too much, or maybe if Enandra did, she might have Karmen Kons erase her memories of the vital secrets.

Her or the mute psyker Selva, assuming she was still alive the life of a Throne Agent was dangerous...Frig, now, to borrow a saying from Attelus, that was the understatement of the millennia! That or adjusting for time dilation, during their brief time on Sarkeath decades could've gone by back in the Calixis Sector. Adelana wished that they had an Astropath, but for some reason, the Inquisitor neglected to lend them one. Their Farseer ally could do it, Adelana was sure, but that would blow the secret of Attelus' alliance.

Although, it was obvious now that Enandra knew full well about it and this assignment had been a test to confirm it. Sarkeath was in the Gothic Sector which in galactic terms was south-east of Adelana's native Calixis Sector and, many, many, many light-years away, if they'd tried to travel there by the warp currents it would've taken months upon months or even years depending on how tame the Immaterium was between the jump points into material space.

But in the Webway it'd only taken them a couple of weeks, maybe that was why she didn't give them an Astropath? Because she knew if they completed their mission, they would come back to the Calixis Sector so fast, they wouldn't need one?

That was yet another uncertainty for them when they arrive back, now with the confirmation of their alliance with the Eldar, how will Inquisitor Enandra react? Adelana knew, like Attelus, Inquisitor Enandra was a dyed in the wool pragmatist; she was also a Radical she knew the lengths they had to go to defeat their enemy and, maybe, allying with Xenos might be the least of that. But, the point was they'd kept it a secret for the whole three years they had been under the Inquisitor's employment and...

Adelana pursed her lips, forcing her mind into silence using the meditation technique Autarch Raloth Arlyandor had taught her and Attelus during their time travelling to Sarkeath. She decided she needed to talk this over with Attelus and soon.

Adelana grimaced at that thought; she wasn't sure she wanted to speak to him now he was spending time with her...

Speaking of Raloth Arlyandor, she hadn't seen the Autarch since they'd first been picked up from the surface of Sarkeath. The Eldar, excluding the healers going in and out to look after Dellenger, had kept their distance this time around. No meetings, nothing, Adelana suspected this was because of Commissar Tathe and his men.

'I see you are quite deep in thought.'

The booming voice next to her made her jump so hard and fast, she flew off her chair like a bolter round and fell to the floor. Luckily, the wraithbone softened to save her from hurting herself.

A huge black armoured hand grew into her blurred vision. 'My apologies, I did not mean to frighten you.'

'Damn it, Kalakor!' Adelana snapped. 'Frig it! Emperor, damn it!'

'I gave you an apology, mamzel Adelana.'

Her heart still smashing, Adelana rolled over to look up at the Space Marine who towered over her like a hive city spire back on Omnartus. 'Just...Frig. Just please do not do that ever again!'

'Understood,' said Kalakor. 'I shall endeavour to never frighten you again. Unless the mission requires it.'

'W-what? Why would a mission require you to give me such a fright that it'd almost killed me!'

'The future is not pre-ordained; there might be a requirement for it in the future; you never know.'

Adelana couldn't even begin to think of a response to that, so she spent her energy getting to her feet instead, ignoring Kalakor's outstretched hand.

'Is there something you want, Kalakor?' she said, still fighting to regain her breathing.

'Indeed, I wish to discuss something with you.'

Adelana wanted to sigh but found it almost impossible, she could guess. 'What?'

'You are leaving the Inquisition.'

It was a statement not a question and exactly what Adelana thought he would say. 'Yes, I am. So, are you going to lecture me? Tell me I'm weak and pathetic and only in death does duty end and crap?'

'No,' said Kalakor, as he laid his huge hand gently on her shoulder. 'I wish to say that I understand.'

Adelana gaped, and that was all she could do.

Then without further word, the huge Astartes turned and left his power armoured footfalls somehow not making a sound, and Adelana couldn't help wondering for the hundredth time, just who in hell was Kalakor?



For the seventh time, Tathe tried to call Attelus Kaltos over the vox network and again, he received no response. He sat on his bed in his chamber and eclipsed his face into his hands. Since the Eldar had picked them up the young Throne Agent had spent most of the time either sulking in his room or inside Karmen Kon's chamber. He'd been a pain in Tathe's backside the second he'd met him back on Sarkeath., leading the Velrosian scouts under the orders of that psychopathic bastard Serghar Kaltos, or as he claimed to be named then, Inquisitor Tolbik of the Ordo Xenos to capture Attelus Kaltos. However, Tathe and his men didn't know it.

Serghar Kaltos, the father of Attelus Kaltos. Serghar Kaltos the epitome of the worst aspects of the Imperium of Mankind. The gak-head who'd expend Tathe's and all of his men's lives in a split-second to advance his plans even slightly.

So what did that say about his son? The son who'd slaughtered dozens of Tathe's men and...

Tathe shook his head, well, what did that say about himself? His General Tathe had betrayed them, turned to Chaos, slaughtered too many of Tathe's, their warriors, to count, then...

Then everything went to gak.

Sins of the father, right? Maybe he and Attelus Kaltos had more in common than he thought.

He was still a pain in the arse, though. To Tathe, it seemed the reason Attelus had really recruited him was that Tathe would take over the leadership role, so Attelus didn't have that burden. Since they had finished their battle against the Resurrected, it'd sure seemed that way.

Tathe cursed, he had done enough leading good men and women to their dooms he was sick of it, and now he was being manipulated into it by some little gak who...

He rubbed his eyes, maybe Tathe was taking his anger and grief out on the boy. Tathe was used to people dying around him, but Sarkeath had been hell, such hell that the Elbyran Contingent went from being 7,000 strong to only a few dozen survivors. Dellenger was the only survivor of the elite scout troopers, and he only lived because he was a freak like Attelus.

A freak who believed he was a 1,000-year-old hero of legend. Adrassil, the mercenary, the bodyguard of prince Royd Destrillion Antares himself and one of the greatest warriors to ever walk the earth of Elbyra, and, well...Dellenger was one of the best warriors Tathe had ever encountered, and he had met...

Then something hit Tathe like a punch to the face, why hadn't Dellenger aged? This made Tathe take his face from his hands. As far as Tathe knew, Dellenger had never had any rejuvenant treatments, so how?

But most importantly, how didn't Tathe notice this until now?

He groaned and rubbed his eyes. Emperor damn Attelus Kaltos and the frigging Inquisition! It seemed every damn time those bastards slink out of their shadows; everything just becomes so much more complicated.

And now he was going to join their ranks for some higher calling to stop some psychopathic former Inquisitor who's been causing Exterminatus' across the damn Imperium for a reason the Emperor only knew.

Tathe stood up so fast, he almost fell over and stormed for the door. Enough wasting time feeling sorry for himself, he needed to talk to that little fool.

The little fool who could slice Tathe's throat open before he could blink, but a little fool all the same.

Tathe stormed down the corridor, his jaw clenched, and as he came to Karmen Kons' door he made sure to bring his augmented fist to bear to bash against it, but Tathe pause as he remembered.

It'd been a damned Inquisitor who had cut it off. A new even more potent wave of rage hit him, and it took all his will to take control of it, if he hit this Xenos material too hard, it would probably break his fist and...

'Commissar?' said a voice and it gave Tathe such a fright he almost drew his laspistol, and he turned to find it was the young woman, Adelana approaching him. 'Are you okay?'

Tathe exhaled a couple of times. 'Y-yes I'm okay.'

She tilted her head. 'With respect, Commissar, you don't seem okay to me.'

Despite himself, Tathe couldn't help bark a laugh.

'What's so funny, sir?' she asked.

'Nothing, it's just funny because that's probably the first time I've heard someone say that and actually meant it respectfully.'

Adelana smiled slightly. 'I...I can see why you would find that humorous.'

'You are an intelligent young woman, Adelana; you can appreciate the irony, can't you?'

She shrugged. 'I guess, I just haven't being used without any respect, so...'

Tathe sniggered. 'I just want to talk to your little boyfriend-'

That made Adelana look away.

'Oh, sorry.'

'It's fine. It's fine.' she said, but the sudden hoarseness in her voice showed otherwise. 'So, you're angry at him? At us?'

'N-not at you, but at him, certainly.'

'Because it was him that made you and your men go into the battle which killed so many of you?'

Tathe sighed. 'I...don't know, maybe. But I think that needed to happen no matter what. It's just; everything's gone to gak.'

'Yeah, it has,' she said and tears suddenly shone in her pretty blue eyes. 'I'm sorry about that and all of your men and everything.'

'Hey, it's alright. At least my home-world isn't dead.'

'No...I guess not.'

Tathe rolled his eyes. 'gak! I'm sorry. I'm supposed to be some great orator and leader, and yet I keep sticking my boot in frigging my mouth today.'

'That's okay. We're all under stress.'

He shrugged. 'That is true, but I, as a Commissar of the Imperial Guard. I should be able to handle this kind of crap.'

'Well, we all have a breaking point.'

Tathe's eyes shot to hers; he supposed she knew that more than most.

Before he could reply the door into Karmen's room slid open, and she stood in the entranceway wearing her form-fitting black bodyglove. Attelus lingered in the background wearing his black flak jacket, grey bodyglove and blue jeans, hands in his pockets, watching with wide nervous eyes.

'You wish to speak to us,' said Karmen, folding her arms across her diaphragm, then she leaned her head out to look at Adelana. 'And you did too?'

Adelana just turned and stormed off.

A smile Tathe didn't like crossed Karmen's attractive face then she turned back to Tathe.

'You coming in or what?'


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Tathe followed Karmen inside, but his attention was sparely on Attelus, and the little pretty boy turned his gaze away and seemed to squirm under the scrutiny.

Good, thought Tathe. It was quite pathetic; actually, Tathe had never met such a potent warrior who could be so damnably timid.

'Karmen Kons,' said Tathe, still looking at Attelus. 'I hope you didn't look into my head to know-'

The psyker snorted. 'Do not be so ridiculous; I merely sensed your presence, then went into my ethereal form to check and heard some of your conversation with Adelana. Also, I felt your anger. Now, Commissar, for what reason did you come here for.'

Tathe looked at her, then back to Attelus. 'I heard that you're a bit of a historian, Kaltos.'

Attelus frowned, seeming bemused at Tathe addressing him by his last name, but it only lasted a second. 'Yes, but emphasis on "a bit", in all honesty.'

'It's probably more than I know. I was taught in the Schola Progenium military history, the Sabbat Worlds Crusade. The Macharius Crusade and the Angevin Crusade, of course. But not much on Velrosian history.'

'Velrosian history?' said Attelus.

'Yes,' said Tathe, letting the silence hand for a few seconds. 'Tell me, what do you know about Adrassil?'

'The legendary mercenary? The one hired to be Royd's bodyguard? Uhh, a bit? The records on him are brief and vague, in all honesty, and it's been a frig of a long time since I've looked over those books, so I can't say what I tell you is completely accurate. And who knows if anything more has been found about him since I left-'

'Just try, please.'

Attelus shrugged and stroked his thin chin. 'Hmm, okay. Well, his first appearance is one hell of one. When Royd and 1st Regiment was surrounded by the Marangerian army in the Hills of the Windmills about to be wiped out, it's rumoured that Adrassil single-handedly slaughtered a gap for them to escape through.'

'How?' said Tathe.

Attelus shrugged again. 'They don't know, exactly, could've been through trickery. That's what historians believe most likely.

Attelus snorted and exchanged a glance with Karmen. 'No one man could do that. Unless they're a Primarch or the Emperor of Mankind himself.'

'Maybe,' said Tathe. 'Then what?'

'Royd travelled back to Velrosia with the small remnant of the shattered 1st regiment. Along with the spy and his later wife, Captain Saria Rotasia and the scout-sergeant Mkoria. The older brother of Royd's rival Veltross Mkoria and Adrassil, of course. Royd was in bad shape after the battle slipping in and out of unconsciousness during the entire exfiltration as King Voltarin himself almost killed him in single combat during the battle. Thanks to Mkoria's guidance, they managed to dodge enemy patrols and escape Maranger undetected.'

'Yes, yes, some of this I know,' said Tathe. 'The young prince wanted to end the inevitable chance of war by destroying Maranger's main food source, the Hills of the Windmills. I can see the strategic viability of it.'

'Yup. But no one in the regiment was prepared to find the Marangerians had fortified the entirety of it. Miles and miles of five-metre tall stone walls. It turned out that Voltarin had used slaves to do it. All it did, in the end, was give Voltarin a frigging good excuse to invade Velrosia enforce, and because of the terms of the peace treaty Royd broke, no other nation could intervene to aid us, so Maranger conquered us.'

'Then what happened?'

'Then when Attelus woke up, General Veltrain, who was standing in as steward, sent Royd with Adrassil to Despasia for Royd to receive training.'

'So, Veltrain sent the prince off to a foreign nation right on the cusp of a full-scale invasion?' said Tathe; he knew this already, but this fact had always bemused him, and he hoped Attelus would know the answer to this. 'Why?'

'Perhaps because he somehow knew Royd would return a one-man army?' said Attelus.

'Cannot argue with that logic,' said Karmen.

'But...how?' said Tathe. 'Despasia was known for its martial arts masters, but...'

'I don't know,' said Attelus. 'The general seemed privy to information no one else did at the time; some say he even knew the true identity of Royd's mother, which is even a mystery to this day. Unless-'

'Yes, yes, unless more information has been found. So they travelled to Despasia...?'

Attelus opened his mouth to answer, but Tathe silenced him with a raised hand. 'Wait! Adrassil was a mercenary right?'

'Yes. According to the records.'

'So why did he happen to be there on time to save Royd and the 1st regiment?'

'Hmm, good question. The main theory is that Veltrain managed to figure out Royd's plan or got the answer from General Tollos, who attacked the border, after "going rogue" as a distraction, so the 1st Regiment could infiltrate Maranger. So he hired Adrassil and sent him into Maranger to help.'

'Makes sense,' said Tathe. 'But how did Veltrain know Adrassil?'

'That's another good question. In all honesty, that's still a strange mystery because there's no mention in any record the continent over of any mercenary named Adrassil until then, you'd think a warrior of his incredible ability would be known of somewhere. Right?'

'Right,' said Tathe, his eyes narrowing. Didn't Dellenger mention something about legend, not mentioning much about his "people"? 'They travelled to Despasia, then what?'

Attelus hesitated.

'What's wrong?' and much to Tathe's interest, Karmen leaned forwards suddenly more interested.

'There's something else which was found out not long before the Chaos Invasion happened,' said Attelus. 'Something strange happened during Royd's and Adrassil's trip to Despasia. They made a brief stop at the border and in the barracks there, the barracks of the 28th regiment something went wrong.'

'What happened?' said Karmen.

Attelus shrugged yet again. 'They don't know, just that the barracks was left in utter ruination, and most of the 28th regiment was killed in some battle. So much so that the few survivors left with Royd and Adrassil as some kind of honour guard into Despasia.'

'How?' said Karmen. 'Wasn't it far away from the front lines?'

'As far as one can be without going into Despasia itself,' said Tathe. 'Could it have been assassins from Maranger?'

'Could've been,' said Attelus. 'Anyway, then they went into Despasia, were there for two years, then Royd returned with Adrassil and thanks to them joining with the scouts and rebel underground; they managed to free Velrosia from Marangerian occupation and killed Voltarin, Royd avenging his own defeat and father by slaying the corrupt king in single combat. Then Adrassil went and disappeared. That's all there is about him, I'm afraid.'

Tathe nodded. 'Anything else about Adrassil? No details about him?'

Attelus' eyes narrowed. 'Why do you want to know this anyway, Commissar?'

Tathe shrugged. 'Just interested. After the deaths of so many of my men, thought I'd be a bit patriotic and learn more about our history.'

Attelus and Karmen shared glances neither looked at all convinced, but neither seemed to want to press the issue after all the gak they'd put Tathe through, which was what he wanted; Inquisition agents weren't the only ones who can be manipulative. Tathe was sure they'd find out soon about Dellenger's claim of being Adrassil, he just wanted to get on their nerves.

'Hmm,' said Attelus as he mused his chin again. 'Not much; it'd have been great if Royd or anyone with him had kept a diary or notes or something. I think...he was awkward and weird but could also highly be charismatic and could say a damn good speech. He was a strange contradiction, to say the least.'

'Where did you get that information?' said Karmen.

'A few from the diaries and accounts of members of the rebellion,' said Attelus. 'Also, despite apparently being very, very good looking, he was terrible with women and had to go to prostitutes a lot.'

Tathe nodded; that did sound a frig-ton like Dellenger except going to the prostitute bit.

'And no...sexual diseases?' said Karmen.

Attelus grimaced. 'Frigged if I know.'

'Anything else?' said Tathe.

'Uhh,' Attelus' eyes rolled to the ceiling. 'Hmm, yes, actually, there are a few anecdotes of both Adrassil and Royd recovering from mortal wounds and a quite fast as well.'

'Like they might have an enhanced metabolism, maybe?' said Karmen, her narrowed gaze fixed on Attelus.

Attelus didn't meet her gaze; he just pursed his lips and shrugged. 'Perhaps.'

That sounded like Dellenger as well, especially now.

Tathe became lost in thought, and silence took over again.

'Y-you want to talk about anything else, Commissar?' said Karmen.

He shook his head. 'No, that's everything for now. Although there are more things, I wish to discuss later.'

'Hmm, fair enough,' said Attelus. 'We're going to call a de-briefing tomorrow, just so you know.'

About frigging time, thought Tathe. 'Yes, understood,' he said.

Both Attelus and Karmen gave him thin smiles and small nods, a subtle indication they wished he'd leave.

'Well, excellent, yes,' said Attelus. 'It's been...fun talking about history and stuff with you.'

Tathe nodded and started for the door. 'Thank you for being so informative,' he said over his shoulder as he left.

'What do you think that was about?' said Attelus.

Karmen shrugged. 'I don't know, was pretty interesting, though. I knew you were into history, but not into that much detail.'

'Royd was my hero as a kid, Estella,' said Attelus. 'You knew that.'

'He was every boy's hero,' said Karmen. 'Captain Saria Rotasia was mine. My brother idolised Royd, too...'

Her sentence drained away, and her eyes glazed over as the memories of her long-dead brother seemed to come back.

'You learned Valisuth instead of the halberd, though,' said Attelus, which made her snap back into reality.

'I did,' said Karmen. 'Mostly so I could spend more time with my father as he was a blade-master of note, but that was a long time ago.'

She looked at Attelus. 'You made me a promise.'

'Yes, but-'

'No, Attelus. Enough time-wasting, go talk to Kalakor.'

Attelus sighed and muttered, 'That's if I can even find him.'

'What?'

'Alright, fine, Emperor damn it,' he looked at her. 'You want to come with?'

'What? For morale support?'

'No...well, something like that, Estella, you just seem the most frigging curious of anyone.'

'You know I don't trust him.'

'So, you don't think he'll just lie, then?'

'Maybe. I hoped you would be able to see if he does.'

'You seriously think I can tell if a Space Marine is lying or not?'

'Good point,' said Karmen. 'It seems as per usual, my faith in you is misplaced.'

'Ouch...'

'Attelus, that was a joke.'

'...I knew that.'

Karmen sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Okay, I will come with you by the Emperor. But if Kalakor is not comfortable with my presence...'

'Yeah, yeah, got you. Let's get this over and damn well done with, then.'


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

It only took them about a minute to find the strange Space Marine as he was in his chamber, the first place they checked.

Kalakor towered over Attelus and Karmen, his arms folded across his huge cuirass.

'You wish to be informed of my background?' he said.

'Th-that's it's said Attelus.

'Are you sure you wish to know?'

'No, but it's important,' said Attelus. 'We need to know how you can use sorcery because Inquisitor Enandra will know soon enough.'

'Why?'

'Because too many people know,' said Karmen. 'Most of us saw you penetrate the veil. All of us saw you destroy the Sword of Kalncerak.'

The Space Marine's inscrutable red eyes turned on her, although Attelus knew his gaze would be inscrutable, even helmetless.

For a few seconds, Kalakor seemed to calculate the variables of this. 'I understand,' he said.

'That's good, Kalakor, that's great,' said Karmen. 'So tell us, please, how did you learn sorcery?'

Kalakor nodded slightly. 'I will. I am a man of my word, although it was only Attelus Kaltos whom I swore to, you Karmen Kons are good too.'

'Uhh, thanks!' said Karmen.

'But before I tell you of how I learned sorcery, it is better I inform you as to why.'

'Okay,' said Attelus. 'That makes sense.'

'But before I start, I must remind you that both of you are working alongside Xenos, and you, Attelus Kaltos, were under the control of a daemon sword and slew many loyal servants to the Golden Throne.'

'I...yes,' said Attelus; the blunt reminder of him killing those soldiers stung, but he was really beginning to dislike where this was going. 'So, you're subtly implying that we shouldn't judge you?'

'I am,' said Kalakor without a hint of irony.

'Just please get it done, Kalakor,' said Karmen.

The Space Marine's hands clenched into fists, and for a split second, they shook slightly; could that have been fear? 'I shall be blunt. I...was an Alpha Legionnaire.'

Attelus' heart fell to his toes, and he could only begin to splutter out monosyllables.

'One of the nine traitor legions?' Karmen said, and Attelus had never heard her sound so exasperated.

'I was Karmen Kons. Emphasis on was,' said Kalakor and Attelus had never heard him sound so exasperated either. 'I left their ranks a long time ago. You see, I was taken in as a new recruit into their ranks near the end of what you in the Imperium now calls The Horus Heresy. After my...primarch Alpharius elected to join Horus in his rebellion.'

In the corner of Attelus' eye, he caught Karmen look at him, and he met her wide-eyed gaze. A gaze that said, "Frig this, you were right; we didn't need to know this."

'But I did not wish to fight against the Emperor and the Imperium, and I saw the impending corruption degradation awaiting me by witnessing it within my older brothers and those of the other traitor legions. I saw that this corruption brought the worst out in them or the brothers who had been changed alongside me. I saw the vile, terrible rites that those of the Word Bearers and those who had given themselves entirely to the Chaos gods would perform for, but a sliver of their power and disgust rose inside me. Disgust, loathing and hatred. So I decided to abandon my brothers and forge my own path. A path dedicated to battling the...what was later entitled The Ruinous Powers, in any way I could and aid humanity and the Imperial Truth in any way I can.'

Karmen furrowed her brow. 'The Imperial Truth?'

'And let me guess,' said Attelus. 'Because, while you know a single Space Marine is a formidable warrior, you knew you could only do so much, so you learned sorcery?'

Kalakor pointed a huge finger at Attelus. 'That is a clever assumption, young Attelus. And a correct one, too.'

Attelus shrugged. 'As a fellow pragmatist, I guess I understand. But that gak's way above my pay grade.'

Karmen's narrowed eyes shot back and forth between Attelus and Kalakor. 'What is the Imperial Truth, Space Marine?'

'That, you do not need to know, and that subject and my elaboration upon that subject was not a part of our bargain, psyker.'

'Maybe I should tear it from your mind then.'

Attelus clenched his teeth. 'No...no, don't do that.'

'I would like to see you try, psyker.'

In the blink of an eye, Attelus slid to stand between them, his hand on the hilt of his sword. In all honesty, he had no idea who would win in a fight; Attelus didn't know the true extent of Kalakor's power, although his skills did seem more utilitarian, but he was a Space Marine. But Karmen was a frigging beta level psyker, and her achievements in psychic power were beyond belief. Attelus didn't know what this Imperial Truth was, but there was something strange about it, and he could understand why Karmen was demanding to know what it was.

'Stand down, both of you, now!'

A snigger erupted from Kalakor's helmet vox. 'You of all people acting as peacemaker, little assassin.'

'That must show how desperate this situation is,' said Attelus. 'We can't afford to have a fight here of all places, frig it. The alliance with the Eldar is tenuous at best and-'

'Shut it, Attelus,' said Karmen. 'What is the Imperial Truth, Kalakor?'

'No, you shut it, Karmen,' said Attelus. 'Kalakor only agreed to tell us why and how he learned sorcery, not about this. We can talk about this later. Now, stand the frig down!

Neither Kalakor nor Karmen moved, and a sudden burst of boiling rage bubbled inside Attelus' chest. 'Stand down, now! I'm in charge here, Karmen, and I'm ordering you to let this pass for frig's sake.'

'Are you not interested what this "Imperial Truth" is, Attelus? I have never heard of it.'

'I am, but Kalakor is willing to fight rather than tell us now, and we can't afford this right now! Don't make me regret bringing you here.'

'He should be destroyed; anyway, he is a Traitor Astartes. I told you we shouldn't have trusted him!'

Kalakor laughed. 'Of course, think in the dogmatic, black and white foolishness of this Imperium of Mankind. I am only a traitor to my former brothers, as they had betrayed the Emperor long before I was recruited into their ranks.'

Oh, god-Emperor! Now Attelus felt like he was on the verge of a panic attack.

Karmen bristled at this. 'How dare you, how frigging dare you!'

'How frigging dare I speak the truth?'

'You think that a traitor like you think you know what is the truth of this Imperium than I?'

'Yes.'

Karmen's clenched her jaw and hunched forwards as if to lunge, but before she could even blink, Attelus had drawn his sword and held its edge an inch from her throat. 'That's enough, Karmen.'

'Y-you are not on the Traitor Marine's side, surely?'

'No,' said Attelus. 'But you are under my command, so you are the one I am able to order.'

'But-'

'But nothing, frig it. Inquisitor Enandra put me in charge, not you. So, I am ordering you to stand down or...'

'Or what? You will put me down? You used that line on Vark, didn't you?'

Attelus fought the urge to flinch at the mention of Vark's name. 'Perhaps. Either way, you are going to leave this thing about "The Imperial Truth" lie, or you are going to have to leave. Understand?'

'I don't-'

'Are you going to let the subject lie, or are you going to leave, Karmen?'

Karmen stood up straight and finally turned her glare on Attelus, and he couldn't help blanch as tears shone in her eyes. 'I cannot believe this; I cannot believe you're on his side, not mine.'

Then she turned and stormed out the room.

Attelus couldn't tear his eyes away even when the door slid shut behind her.

'Frankly, I am surprised that you are on my side; she is your lover-'

'Shut up, Kalakor,' said Attelus, finally managing to turn to the Space Marine. 'I don't frigging like this, and I already explained why.'

'Yes, but-'

'If you refuse to tell us about The Imperial Truth, perhaps you can tell me about how you became a Raven Guard veteran-sergeant?'

'Actually, I would not mind telling you about the Imperial Truth; you are not so dogmatically minded as her. This was why I agreed to tell you of the background in the first place. Her strong belief in the Imperial Cult will make her dislike the truth immensely. So much so that she might go on a rampage of sorts.'

'Oh, okay, then,' said Attelus as he scratched the back of his neck. 'Uhh, that's interesting, yes. Alright, how about we go over that later. Right now, let's just keep to the subject. How did you, a Space Marine of the Alpha Legion, become a part of the Raven Guard?'

'A century ago, I infiltrated their ranks by taking the place of Kalakor when he was a Battle-Brother, of their 4th company,' said Kalakor. 'I used...techniques long utilised by the Alpha Legion to achieve this goal.'

'Techniques such as?'

Kalakor sighed. 'I had my face removed, my facial structure reconstructed to match his. His eyes transplanted into me, then my scalp removed, replaced with his, then his face. Done in a way to hide any sign of the surgery. As well as my skin permanently dyed to be the trademark pale white of the Raven Guard. I had to consume his brain for his memories too.'

Attelus gaped. 'By the Emperor.'

'Indeed, even with my enhanced constitution, I do not wish to go through such a process again.'

Attelus shrugged again; it reminded him of the Mimic who'd assassinated Taryst and taken his place as the leader back on Omnartus three years ago. It, too, had to have its eyes with Taryst's, Attelus had wondered why the Mimic couldn't have worn contacts made to replicate Taryst's retina, but he supposed that the retinal scanner was far too advanced to be fooled by contacts. He meant to ask Karmen one day about that. Quickly, Attelus forced away the thought of her.

'But...why?'

Kalakor looked down at him. 'A...friend of mine foresaw that this particular squad of Raven Guard marines would be upon Sarkeath when a perpetual would arrive-'

'Which meant that perpetual would bring the sword of Kalncerak into the material realm allowing you to destroy it. Is that right?'

'Correct, as I mentioned back on that accursed world that I needed to destroy that sword as a promise to another long-dead friend.'

'It was another perpetual who locked it in that...dimension, right? You won't tell me who that friend was?'

'Yes, it was and no. My apologies, but I will not tell you who it was that told me of this prophecy, either.'

Attelus nodded and hid a smile. It was nice of Kalakor to confirm that they weren't the same person.

'I hold little faith in prophecy, but I decided to take a risk, and I am gladdened it was correct. And besides, it was great to be once again involved in the bonds of brotherhood.'

Attelus frowned. 'Hmm, so, when you'd said before that when you had your squad fight that Bloodthirster, you knew they'd die. You actually knew they'd die?'

Kalakor stayed silent.

'I'll take your silence as a yes, then.'

'I...did not wish to do it. I had fought alongside them for many years, one for the entire century of service. I mentored a few, but it had to be done.'

'So you could complete your mission?'

'So I could complete my mission.'

'Perhaps you and Karmen have more in common than you think.'

'How so?'

'Perhaps it'd be better if you get that information from her; I don't think she'd appreciate me telling you without her permission if you catch my drift.'

'I...catch your drift? That is...a strange turn of phrase. But I understand. But you must understand the greater daemon of the blood god would have wreaked utter havoc-'

Attelus raised a hand. 'Yes, I'm well aware how frigging deadly a Bloodthirster is, Kalakor.'

'Yes, I suppose you would.'

'Anyway, how did you learn sorcery?'

'I...was taught the basics by an infamous sorcerer when I joined his Warband for a while. I did not have natural psychic potential, so I spent many years attempting to learn what little amount I could. My teacher...was an actual traitor to the Imperium of Mankind, but more a traitor of circumstance, and he did not mind the reason why I wanted to learn, and I aided in his endeavours in my capacity as an infiltrator and warrior.'

'And let me guess you aren't going to tell me who your teacher was.'

'No. If I wished to tell you, I would have said it before.'

'Hmm, makes sense.'

'I am a Space Marine of the Legiones Astartes; I hold logic and reason is held above all things.'

'Hmm, interesting, yes,' said Attelus. 'I agree with that. Uhm, is that what the Imperial Truth is?'

Kalakor froze. 'That is...somewhat what it is, yes. It is ironic...'

'What's ironic?'

'That the Imperium of Mankind would become everything the Emperor stood against.'


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Karmen stormed into her room; she would've smashed her door shut if it didn't slide closed behind her. What in the God-Emperor's name was that little idiot thinking? For frig's sake! After everything, they had been through, and he took the side of the Space Marine over her?

How? Why?

She looked down at her clenched fist, almost as clenched tight as her teeth. Frigging little bastard!

Karmen wanted to unleash her psychic might into the walls, into everything. Smash a frigging hole to reveal the webway outside.

+That would be inadvisable.+

Karmen froze. 'Is that you, Klrith?'

+Indeed.+

'Are you frigging spying on us?'

+I...suppose I am,+ said Klrith. +But I am doing so because I have sensed your tumultuous anger and its potential destructiveness upon this vessel. Something which I am duty-bound to prevent. So, please, do not.+

'I was there when you had your confrontation with Raloth Arlyandor; you can't judge.'

+Yes, but I was not in danger of damaging this ship.+

+Frig you!+ she sent back.

There was a pause. +If I did not have my psychic wards up, that could have caused me damage. You are a powerful psyker. More powerful than I, as much as I hate to admit it. So, please show more restraint. You are guests upon this ship; please act like it.+

+That little gak betrayed me!+

+Karmen Kons...+

+After everything we have been through.+

+Is this about that Space Marine?+

+Yes! Attelus' new boyfriend.+

+...I was not aware Space Marines were able to-+

+It's a frigging metaphor; Emperor, damn it.+

+Yes...+

The warlock paused as the door to Karmen's chamber slid open, and Klrith stepped in, the inscrutable gaze of his helm boring into her. +That is it.+

Karmen rolled her eyes. 'What do you want?'

'I have already told you what I want.'

'Alright, fine! I won't damage your precious frigging ship.'

'You mon- humans are so foul-mouthed. If it is any consolation, the Space Marine did not have the stench of corruption on him.'

'He didn't?'

'If he did, we would not have allowed him onboard.'

'How is that possible?'

'The Marine is different, I suppose.'

'Or he could be hiding it from you.'

Klrith did what sounded like a snort. 'I very much doubt that.'

Typical Eldar arrogance, Karmen stroked her chin. 'Tell me, Klrith; you Eldar are long-lived; were you alive during the Horus Heresy?'

'I was not, but I have known many who were; why?'

'Have you heard of this Imperial Truth?'

'No,' said Klrith. 'But Autarch Raloth Arlyandor has some knowledge on human history. You could ask him.'

'He does?'

'Indeed, why are you surprised? Even if he were not on the forefront of this alliance, he would need to, that is the path of the autarch, to know your enemy, and one of the facets of that is to learn their history.'

Karmen grimaced; it seemed more and more the Imperium didn't even know their own damn history.

'Karmen Kons,' said Klrith, bringing Karmen back to reality. 'Or Estella Erith, you have calmed down, now?'

'I...have,' she said through gritted teeth.

'I sense that my words have angered you,' said Klrith. 'My apologies if I have offended you, but your anger seems to have subsided to an acceptable level, so I must take my leave; I have other duties to attend to.'

With that, the warlock turned and left without further word.

Karmen sighed and sat on her bed and rubbed her eyes. Attelus taking Kalakor's side over hers hurt, and she had every right to be angry, but maybe it wasn't just that.

Maybe it wasn't just that.




'So...the Emperor didn't want to be worshipped like a god?' said Attelus. 'I can see why you didn't want to tell me this around Karmen.'

'He did not; he led the Great Crusade in a bid to spread the Imperial Truth all through the galaxy.'

'And that's secular...atheism?'

'Well, not exactly; it was gnostic atheism, meaning not just the lack of belief in a god or gods but the belief that there are no gods. Atheism just means the lack of belief in a god, as theism means belief in god or gods and-

'Okay, I got it, Kalakor,' said Attelus. 'But...why? The Chaos gods exist, don't they?'

'Depends upon your definition of a "god", Attelus Kaltos,' said Kalakor. 'I do not honour them with that honorific; they do not deserve to be called gods; I think of them as parasitic abominations.'

'Hmm, interesting.'

'They are like parasites upon humanity; they thrive upon negative emotion and actions driven by the worst of emotion. Like a tick inflames the skin to draw more blood, they corrupt men and women into their worst possible selves to sustain themselves. Selfishness, blood-lust, rage, all of it.'

'That makes a gak ton of sense,' said Attelus. 'I could subscribe to that belief. But how does making everyone believe there's no such thing as god help?'

'I have thought long and hard on that, but I believe I have come to an understanding as to why the Emperor pushed the Imperial Truth. Belief echoes in the Warp. You know of the so-called "miracles" performed by the Adepta Sororitas or Sisters of Battle? That may be the intervention of the Emperor's consciousness in the Warp, but more likely it is because they believe in them so much the Warp is moulded and reacts to their will.'

'What? Like psykers?'

'No, psykers influence the Warp through cognitive function, and they are a result of evolution and mutation due to the interaction of the Immaterium on the material plane. Most especially humanity's constant use of warp travel to cross this vast galaxy.'

'Okay...'

'You should know this; you are an agent of the Inquisition.'

Attelus shook his head. 'I didn't, but let me guess, the Emperor believed that if he united mankind in manifest disbelief of gods, it would destroy the Chaos...parasites?'

'Not destroy, weaken, weaken them into being a non-threat, so maybe the Emperor could destroy them himself. And it wasn't just gnostic atheism but strict materialism. So no belief in souls or superstition, daemons, devils, ghosts, all of it. It was one of the reasons why the Emperor insisted that people do not worship him as a god as it might weaken his own strength as well.'

'I see what you meant when you said the Imperium has become everything the Emperor stood against. So, it obviously failed with the Horus Heresy and everything.'

'Yes, no thanks to those traitorous bastards Kor Phaeron and Erebus and his weakling primarch Lorgar. The damned frigging Word Bearers.'

Attelus couldn't help raise his eyebrows; he'd never seen the Space Marine so fired up before. Then it hit him; here he was being told of a legend ten thousand years old by an eyewitness of these events.

Assuming he was telling the truth, though. In all honesty, Attelus had no way of knowing for certain unless he had accounts from numerous different witnesses of the Heresy and the Great Crusade. But Attelus felt in his gut that Kalakor was telling the truth, or at least what he thought was the truth. It also helped that it confirmed Attelus' own bias; he'd always had his scepticism of the dogma of the Ecclesiarchy and that the Emperor would want a society forever embedded in war, mindless, ruthless bureaucracy and religious zealotry.

'You do not believe me, do you?' said Kalakor.

'Hmm, it makes sense, Kalakor. I'd like to believe you, but I have to hold some scepticism of your claim without more evidence to corroborate your claim.'

'I understand.'

'You do?'

'As I said, logic and reason are held high in my eyes, and you are adhering to that. All you have is my word, after all.'

'But, my gut says you're telling the truth,' Attelus made, frigging sure not to mention, "Or what you believed was the truth."

'Your gut feeling is a powerful thing, indeed.'

Then Attelus' thoughts shot to their master Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra; she was secretly a member of the Seculous Attendous philosophy, which wished to weaken the Ministorum's influence and power in the Imperium of Mankind. Could she have known about the Imperial Truth, which was why she disliked the Ecclesiarchy? If she didn't, what would she think of this revelation?

Attelus nodded. 'This is a lot to take in, Kalakor. I can't believe you have been so open with your backstory and so much else.'

'That was the agreement, although I gave more than intended. But it felt good, I suppose, like sharing a burden.'

'That's good to hear. I can...I can really empathise with that. Just a couple more questions, Kalakor, and then I'll be out of your hair.'

'I do not mind your presence now but understood.'

'Okay, first, what's your real name?'

'I do not wish to share that I am Kalakor for all intents and purposes and I shall be kept referred to as such.'

'Yes, alright, got you. Second question, Kalakor. Was it you who killed the real Battle-Brother Kalakor of the Raven Guard?'

Kalakor's reply was silence.



Attelus slipped out of Kalakor's chamber and began for his own. He was sure Karmen wouldn't want to be sharing her bed with him for a while now. Or perhaps even never again. He wouldn't blame her if she didn't, but it had to be done, and the irony was that this might not have happened if it wasn't for her insistence.

He sighed, took out his plasteek container, popped a Lho stick into his mouth and lit it with his igniter. They were going to de-brief the others tomorrow, so Attelus couldn't afford to allow her to sulk her anger away for a few days. So, despite his lunging heart in his throat, he activated his vox bead and tuned it into Karmen's channel.

But of course, she didn't answer.

Attelus growled through gritted teeth. He wondered if he should bother knocking on her door or not. Yes, she was right to be mad and feel betrayed, but why couldn't she put aside her anger and be a professional?

Guilt then came flooding inside him, overtaking his anger. Attelus enjoyed their escapades over the past few days, and now they could be over. Perhaps this was his fault; if he had the balls to speak to Kalakor without her in the first place, she wouldn't have been there to hear about the "Imperial Truth" and lose her gak about it. He had held his sword to her throat, for goodness' sake. He could go on about how she'd been disrespectful and all that crap, but she deserved the benefit of the doubt after everything.

Even if, nine years ago, she tried to erase his memories and-

Attelus' micro-bead beeped, and he didn't bother to check the call's source number, hoping it was Karmen calling him back.

'Hello?'

'Attelus? You aren't...busy?'

Attelus sighed and rolled his eyes. 'No, Torris. What do you need?'

'Just thought you want an update on a few things, most particularly that strange man, scout-trooper Dellenger. Delathasi and I will meet you outside your chamber.'

Before Attelus could reply, Torris cut the link.

Again, Attelus sighed.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

'Oh,' said Attelus. 'Hmm, interesting, yes.'

Torris, who towered over Attelus in his blue flak armour, exchanged a glance with Delathasi, she was as tall as Torris, but she was as slender as Torris was bulky. Both were dark-skinned, but Torris was far darker, his jawline square and seemed squarer due to his growing beard.

'Insane more like,' said Torris. 'That sword ate souls, right?'

Attelus eyes fell to the floor. 'Y-yes.'

'Well, maybe that sword damaged his soul? It could've damaged his mind as well?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Perhaps? I was wondering why Commissar Tathe had come to Karmen's chamber to ask me questions about Adrassil.'

'Your world has an interesting history, Attelus,' said Delathasi. 'What is it like?'

'Elbyra? Or Velrosia? Agri world. Kingdoms and aristocracies mostly. We're a backwater, in all honesty. Our only claim to fame is...was the Elbyran Imperial Guard contingent. Some beautiful places, though. My home city of Varander, the Velrosian capital, is...was still one of the most pretty places I've seen in my life. But...well, that could be due to my bias, so...'

Attelus pursed his lips and shrugged again. 'And you think Dellenger is telling the truth?'

Torris nodded. 'Or he thinks it's true, which is more likely. That's what happens when you are delusional.'

'Hmm, makes sense.'

Delathasi and Torris shared glances again. 'Uhm, Attelus, what are we going to do next?' said Delathasi.

'...I will give you guys a debriefing tomorrow. But I've talked to autarch Arlyandor about how we are going to exit the webway without the Guncutter and without drawing much attention to ourselves.'

'But how are we going to prevent Inquisitor Enandra from becoming suspicious?' said Delathasi.

'We're way too late for that,' said Attelus. 'Managing to travel to and from the Gothic Sector in a few weeks, which is an impossibility with warp travel. Unless we lay low for months and months somewhere until we get in contact with her and, well, we can't afford to do that.'

'I'm pretty sure she already knows, anyway,' said Torris. 'So, I'm guessing you're finally done with sulking in your chamber or alternatively sulking in Karmen's.'

Delathasi frowned at that.

'I am,' said Attelus. 'I'm back in the game now...I'm sorry about that.'

Torris growled and mussed Attelus' long hair with an armoured paw. 'Ahh, I shouldn't be so hard on you after what happened. Good to see you're back on track.'

Attelus smiled. 'It's good to be back, Marcel.'



Militia-man Voltdun once again looked out across the plains of hills that surrounded Port Suffering. He breathed out and wiped the sweat from his balding head for the hundredth time. He'd been born and raised in Port Suffering, the only city and port of call for the Imperium on Iocanthos. Voltdun stared out for a few seconds more before beginning on his patrol again. Voltdun didn't understand the constant patrols; the local savage tribes wouldn't dare attack Port Suffering, for it was neutral ground, and its existence important for the entire world. Maybe they made fools like him patrol the wall in the burning sun, so the port lived up to its damned name.

Voltdun frowned and looked to the sky; it was less than a year away before the Imperium came to Iocanthos to collect up the Ghost Fire Pollen to produce it into combat drugs. Voltdun was tempted to try and beg the ship's captain to allow him to join the crew.

Anywhere would be better than living in this gak hole of a world by the God-Emperor. Voltdun made sure to pray for this every day since the Ghost Fire Pollen was taken about four years ago. His boots clanging on the steel walkway, Voltdun shouldered his lasgun and glanced down into Port Suffering itself. It was midday, and the city was milling with his fellow colonists and the local savages who lived here. The colour of browning rust seemed to cover every inch of every building of this place.

He supposed he should thank the God-Emperor he was born here instead of out in plains and-

The thought of the plains made Voltdun look back over them and...

The Militia-man froze as figures began to appear over the top of a taller hill about two hundred metres away. It took Voltdun a good few seconds to get the brains to finally reach for his scope with sweaty fingers that now seemed buttery and limp. When he managed to place it to his eye, he saw the group had grown; in the lead was a short, long-haired lad in a black coat, a sword sheathed at his hip, and on his right was a beautiful blonde woman in a black bodyglove and his left a pretty red-haired girl in a grey bodyglove. Then a big, dark-skinned man in blue flak armour and carried a large metal box between a tall, pale man in a bodyglove, a tanned man in what in a storm coat and a military hat.

'W-who, w-what?'

The young man in the lead raised his hand, making Voltdun focus on him again.

He was holding between black-gloved fingers a sigil that looked like...looked like.

Then Voltdun's entire being seemed to freeze despite the overwhelming heat of the sun.



Under-consul Adept Kolmoroff sat in her small, austere office, her augmented eyes looking over yet another calculation report of this year's haul of Ghost Fire Pollen on her beaten, steel desk. It was a report by Adept Sotol. Kolmoroff would have rolled her eyes if they were not circular glowing orbs of red. Sotol would yet again be at least five hundred tons over or under the actual amount; he was a fool, but that was the reason why he was transferred here, Port Suffering, and by extent, Iocanthos was a dumping ground for the Administratum's "best." and "brightest" for centuries, which included, or at least she believed, her grandparents, who were shipped here from Fenksworld decades ago. But she had strived to be the best she could be in the name of the all-mighty God-Emperor of Mankind, and that was why she was in charge, even if that meant, by proxy, she was the de-facto mayor of this thrice-damned city too. With her slender, wrinkled fingers, she checked over Sotol's report again. Her mind whirring through the mathematics like the cogitator she had that worked fifteen years ago. The thought made her glance at the ancient, battered thing going to rust in the corner of her office. It had worked for her predecessor and his predecessor. She had considered sending a request for a replacement or for a Tech Adept to repair it on many occasions. Still, she knew how slow the cogs of Imperial bureaucracy moved first-hand; she would likely be long dead by the time the replacement arrived. The relationship between the administratum and the Adeptus Mechanicus was turbulent at best.

She found that Sotol's calculations added up to where she thought initially and dumped the report aside in the 'Calculated' box on her desk. She wanted to dump it in the rubbish, but despite how incompetent he was, she liked Sotol, the naive but the friendly young man who was a bit of a light in this oppressive, cramped building. He'd only been here since being dumped off with the prior shipment of Ghost Fire Pollen. She wondered how much longer that enthusiasm would last.

Kolmoroff reached for the next report, adept Toltin's, when the vox unit built into her desk buzzed, making her jump and drop the folder in a shower of paper. She looked at the buzzing, blinking vox unit for a good eight seconds. There were no scheduled meetings with any of the Ashleen Warchiefs this day. She could only think of a few reasons why she would be called like this; some local fool had done a stupid thing or a horrible thing that she was not qualified to deal with. No magistratum or Adeptus Arbites left criminal investigations to the administratum and the damned militia. This was the last thing she wanted nor needed.

With a sigh, Kolmoroff finally pushed the "accept" button.

'This is Adept Kolmoroff; what is it?'

'Mamzel,' it was sergeant Vettok of the militia, the fear in his shaking voice was almost palpable; he was in charge of the daytime wall patrols. 'We've gotten us a situation.'

'Of course, we do; what is it?' she would have guessed a bar fight or a stabbing in a botched mugging, but the call being from the wall patrol made those assumptions go away. Was it the Ashleen finally deciding to attack Port Suffering? That thought made her heart skip a beat, but by the God-Emperor, she prayed not.

'M-mamzel, you won't begin to guess, but it's the Inquisition!'

A pain shivered through her so hard and fast she almost took her finger off the button. 'Th-the Inquisition? I had no word of their presence on Iocanthos!'

'Y-yas, mamzel, but it seems they're on the planet doin' secret frig. They want ta meet with ya.'

Kolmoroff groaned. 'Yes, yes, send them here.'

She tore her finger from the vox unit before the sergeant could reply. This was the last thing she needed now.



From the entourage of about thirty-five, only three of them followed Kolmoroff into her office, and as they walked in, Kolmoroff's augmented eyes soaked in their every detail like she would a report. One was a pretty young man with pale skin and long dark brown hair parted on the right side, so it covered most of the left side of his sharp, sculpted face. It wasn't just his looks that made him eye-catching, but the stark contrast between the darkness of his hair, his red lips and his complexion; it was exotic as almost no one on Iocanthos looked that way. The way he walked as well, in the most smoothest, confident of gaits, seemed almost inhuman. The wild felines stalking birds on the roofs of Port Suffering held nothing to this young man, and it dawned on Kolmoroff that he was easily the most dangerous individual she'd ever met despite his shorter stature and lighter build. She had shared court with many, many brutal, ruthless Ashleen Warchiefs over the years. Warchiefs who carried the shrunken skulls of their many kills from their belts and scars from countless fights coating their bulky, muscular torsos. But contrasted by the pretty young man's slouching posture, which was not as bad as an administratum adept who spent his life hunched over a cogitator, it was quite still noticeable; it detracted from his presence and looks considerably.

But she should not have been surprised as he was an Inquisitor. He wore a black armoured jacket over a pair of blue pants and a grey bodyglove. A sword was sheathed on his left hip and a pistol holstered in a shoulder rig.

And yet, he seemed so young, maybe twenty, twenty-three, but his hazel eyes with purple bags beneath seemed to show a weariness and wisdom. That, and the huge, ugly scar on his left cheek, which he obviously intended to hide behind his thick fringe of hair, but it was obvious to Kolmoroff's enhanced gaze. She'd received the augmentation by a Tech-Priest when she was placed in charge of the administratum on Iocanthos; he had been working on something on routine maintenance on port Suffering at the time and decided to make them for her as a sign of respect for her position and the strange...friendship? She had made with him. They were a work of art and had never failed her over the decades since.

The second was a woman who seemed in her early twenties; she wore a black bodyglove which bared her shapely, youthful body to the world. She was beautiful and more than aware of it; her face was heart-shaped and seemed to epitomise the stereotypes of soft femininity. Her long blonde hair was tied into a topknot, but Kolmoroff could spy the small amount of black regrowth at the roots. By contrast to the young man's smooth steps, her short steps were feminine but subtly haughty and arrogant, as if she had been born and raised in high society. Her big, blue eyes would have been nice if not for the fact they seemed hard and ruthless, like the embodiment of the nightmarish and cruel rumours the Inquisition were known for. As if she was more than capable of horrible acts in the pursuit of her agenda. Hanging from a strap over her shoulder was a boltgun of all things.

But Kolmoroff could see the very well hidden, almost indistinct lines of false flesh on her features. If Kolmoroff had any doubts, they were Inquisition; they were gone now as such advanced and skilled surgery would have cost an incredible amount of Throne Gelts.

The third was a soldier, a warrior, a leader who should have been in charge as far as Kolmoroff was concerned. Tall, well built and as the young man was pretty, the soldier was handsome, almost ludicrously so, his face was scarred, but the scars added to his looks rather than detracted from them. He seemed to be in his late forties, his tanned skin weathered, and his wide, easy smile crinkled it further. He wore a peaked hat, tilted on his greying, black hair roguishly and a storm coat lined with red and his shoulders covered with golden pads. Beneath was his battered, old but well-maintained carapace armour with an Aquila on the chest. And a black tunic.

He seemed exactly what Kolmoroff would imagine one of the infamous Commissars of the Imperial Guard she had heard so much about. He oozed charisma like the woman oozed ruthlessness and the young man radiated dangerousness, despite the sword sheathed at his hip and the intimidating silhouette of his uniform. The warrior's presence seemed to cleanse any unease from Kolmoroff, and it took all her willpower to pull her attention from him.

For the life of her, Kolmoroff had no idea what to say to these three strangers, so she just waved for them to sit in the rickety wooden chairs. They did, and much to Kolmoroff's non-surprise, the young man took the middle chair, and the warrior and the woman sat on his left and right, respectively.

'H-how can I aid an Inquisitor of the Holy Ordos?' said Kolmoroff, unable to hide the quiver in her voice.

The young man lounging in his chair looked surprised, then he exchanged glances with the warrior and the woman.

'Oh,' he said. 'I'm not an Inquisitor. Sorry for the misunderstanding.'

And he floundered around inside his jacket to reveal a small "I." emblem.

Kolmoroff would have raised an eyebrow at the young man's strange awkwardness if it was not for the visor replacing much of her face. 'Then what are you? You seem like an Inquisitor to me. Or you used to, until now.'

'Uhm, thanks? But I'm not. I'm a Throne Agent,' said the young man, his voice deep, soft was, almost soothing and a little nasally, probably suffering from pollen fever. 'A high-level acolyte to an Inquisitor. I'm Kaltos, senior Throne Agent of the Ordo Hereticus. This is Throne Agent Kons and Throne Agent Tathe.'

'Ordo Hereticus? That term means nothing to me, young man. I am guessing you specialise in finding and destroying heretical elements?'

'Yeah,' said Kaltos as he put the emblem back in his jacket pocket. 'You know, it's High Gothic and all that gak.

Kaltos' face flushed as he red as he seemed to realise his mistake. 'S-sorry about my swearing.'

Kolmoroff could not help smiling; this Throne Agent Kaltos was warming to her. 'It is fine; I have been in the presence of mass-murdering warlords and brutal warriors, your use of "gak" is nothing compared to what they say. And I thought it was High Gothic. I do attend services regularly, which you Inquisition people wish to know, do you not?'

Again, agent Kaltos shared glances with Kons and Tathe. 'Yes, of course. That's excellent, yes.'

'Now,' said Kolmoroff, unable to keep her gaze from Tathe for any longer and glad the good-looking Throne Agent couldn't tell. 'Would you allow me the honour of telling me why you are here?'

'We cannot give you the details,' said Kons, and Kolmoroff could not help turn to her. Her deep voice seemed to project into every inch of the room and rang with incredible confidence; she leaned back in her chair, arms folded below her ample chest. Her blue eyes seemed fixed to Kolmoroff, and she had to fight the urge to wilt beneath it. There was something else behind that gaze, something more, something that made her seem even more dangerous than Kaltos. 'We can tell you we were dropped here two weeks ago out in the mountains to investigate one of the tribes for suspected heresy.'

'I was never made aware-'

Kons raised her hand. 'We had a cell of acolytes infiltrate the tribes a while ago, and we received an astropathic communication reporting this via their own astropath. So we were dropped off here by our master to take a look ourselves. We were almost ambushed, and we lost our acolytes and the astropath; we managed to wipe out the attackers. It turned out one of the leader's lieutenants had...made pacts with the enemy to gain enough power to overthrow the warchief. We killed the lieutenant and his lackeys.'

'You...cannot tell me which tribe this was?' said Kolmoroff.

'Nope, sorry,' said Kaltos with a shrug.

'What about the reason why you cannot?'

'We can't tell you that either,' said Kaltos.

'All that you need to know is that we hope you do not speak of this,' said Tathe; his voice was so deep it seemed to reverberate Kolmoroff's ribs and poured into her ears like the smoothest of caramel. 'To anyone, not even other agents of the Inquisition if they come knocking.

Kolmoroff found herself unable to reply as she echoed his words in her mind.

'Mamzel Kolmoroff?' said Tathe. 'Are you okay?'

Okay? That was a strange word Kolmoroff had not heard that term before, and, now she thought about it, all three seemed to have similar accents; they had a twang which rose at the end of many sentences and their "I's" in the middle of some words sounded a bit like "u's" and some "a's" sounded like "o's". Their sentences were almost strung together in one fast blurt. It was nice, almost cute. Kolmoroff had never heard such an accent before; it seemed they were all from the same world, maybe even the same section of that world.

'Adept Kolmoroff?' said Kons, bringing Kolmoroff back to reality.

'Oh! My apologies; I got lost there for a little while. Yes, of course, mamzel Kons.'

'You swear upon your soul?' said Tathe.

'Yes-yes, of course, Throne Agent Tathe.'

They sat in silence for a good five seconds studying her, and Kolmoroff fought the urge to wilt from them. She meant it, more than meant it; they were agents of the most Holy and powerful institutions; an oath to it was as good as an oath to the God-Emperor himself. She would take this to her grave, no matter what she was put through.

'Okay,' said Kaltos, a light smile crossing his red lips. 'Thank you, mamzel Kolmoroff. Now, onto other things, we need access to your astropath and a place to stay...'

Kaltos drifted off as he looked to Kolmoroff's cogitator. 'We could get you a replacement for that, easily if you wish, mamzel Kolmoroff.'

Kolmoroff scoffed. 'I will not be bribed, young man.'

Kaltos frowned. 'I...I wasn't trying to bribe you, mamzel. I can see you were genuine in your promise. I apologise if it came off that way, I just want to help you in any way I can. Is there anything you wish us to look into while we're here?'

It took Kolmoroff a while to respond, taken aback by the young man's genuine candour. He was nothing like anything she imagined an agent of the Holy Ordos would be like.

'No, I cannot think of anything; thank you, young man. If I think of something, I will get in contact. Now excuse me, while I organise your rooms at the refectories...'

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2022/06/21 21:30:03


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus stood against the balcony of the main building of the refectories, leaning slouched against the wall and smoking a Lhos stick while gazing across the haze covered city, aptly called Port Suffering. The smell of the Lho somewhat helped with the horrid stench clogging his nose, his mouth, his tear ducts. To the east was the administratum building; the Counting House towered over the rust ridden, a brown and dark red hodgepodge of the run-down world around it. Its black monolith stone structure, such a stark contrast that even if it weren't so tall, it'd stand out. To the north, right in the middle of this damned "city", was the spaceport, which rose even higher than the Counting House but wasn't so grim and black.

'God-Emperor, I frigging hate this place,' he said.

'"God-Emperor"?' said Darrance as he approached. 'You don't use that one too often, apprentice."

And I will use it even less now, Attelus thought, fighting back a frightened flinch. 'Really must emphasise how much I hate this gak-hole, then,' Attelus sniffed.

Darrance laughed. 'Indeed, so. I hate it too. Next thing we know, I might start praying that the Inquisitor gets here soon to pick us up.'

Attelus sniffed again. 'Hey, in all honesty, it could help. I won't be stopping you.'

'Any word from her, yet?'

'Darrance, I only sent the message four hours ago; what do you think?'

The pilot shrugged. 'I know, I am just desperate to leave as well. Why did we have to land here again?'

'Because it's quite close to Scintilla, galactically speaking, but not too close and a webway gate a good distance from anywhere for us to use.'

Darrance grimaced and swiped his hand dismissively. 'Not a good enough reason in my view.'

'Whatever,' said Attelus.

'Speaking of Elandria...'

Attelus' eyes shot to Darrance, his teeth clenching. Darrance looked back at him with eyes that swelled with what seemed to be sympathy. That'd been Elandria's catchphrase.

'What about Elandria?'

'Well, Elandria, she used to say "whatever" a lot did she now? She is still alive, to an extent. Do you...do you want to talk about it?'

'I don't know how talking about it will help anything, Darrance,' said Attelus. 'She's...she's gone. She's still gone. It's not her any more.'

Darrance shook his head. 'Maybe, but you said it before, she still has her mind, literally, and-'

'That's enough, frig it.'

Darrance's face darkened. 'If you are right, will you be able to do it?'

'Do what?'

'For Emperor's sake, Attelus, do not play stupid. You know what I mean.'

Attelus took the almost burnt out Lho from his lips between index finger and thumb, flicked it off the balcony and sighed. 'Anything on Hayden?'

An anger ridden grimace crossed Darrance's haughty, sharp features. Attelus knew the anger meant "do not change the subject," but he didn't care. It was still strange Saderth Darrance with short hair; for years beforehand, Darrance always had his hair long and tied back. Attelus just kept watching Darrance before popping out another Lho from his plasteek case.

'He is still sulking in his room,' said Darrance, finally seeming to give up. 'Both Adelana and Delathasi are standing guard at his door while I am here.'

While nodding, Attelus lit his new Lho stick with his igniter. 'Good. Although, he's not the only one who hates me now. Tathe, Karmen do too.'

Darrance raised an eyebrow. 'Karmen? Why? Is that why you two stopped your...excursions during our time with the Eldar?'

'Let's just say I frigged up, yet again,' said Attelus fighting the urge to throw his Lho on the rockcrete floor.

'I already knew that, apprentice,' said Darrance, grinning. 'It is the story of your life, is it not? You have not run out of those yet?'

'Almost. But being the clever little frigger I am, I bought some more when we got here.'

'You-'

'Oh, for frig's sake, Darrance, are you going to lecture me on the evils of smoking, too?'

'No. Where is Kalakor?'

'Hmm, don't know. He would've slipped in when we went through the gates, so he's probably scouting about knowing him.'

'But you do not know him, do you? Not really.'

'But I don't know frig about you, either. Do I?'

'True. But I'm not a Space Marine who can go invisible and penetrate the warp to travel places, so...'

'Touché, as far as I know, anyway. I can never win against you, can I, Darrance?'

'Maybe one day. I have been at this snarking thing for much longer than you have. Attelus, you have been avoiding it, but maybe you should try speaking to Hayden. That was what I meant to say earlier.'

Attelus sighed again and scratched his scalp rapidly. 'For frig's sake...'

'You have to do it.'

'Will he want to talk to me?'

'Probably not. But you are meant to be our leader.'

'I frigging shouldn't have been.'

Darrance shrugged. 'Lead with that if that is what you believe. That is one of the reasons why he "hates" you.'

'Well, he shouldn't be the leader, either, in all honesty.'

'I agree, but he thinks so.'

'What happened to us, Darrance? What the hell happened to us?'

'We went into hell, Attelus. A world corrupted by the warp, and that corruption infected all of us. Some of us were found more wanting than others. Hayden came the closest of all of us into falling into that pit. Him and Vark, but Vark's dead at Commissar Tathe's hand. But Hayden can still fall...'

Attelus nodded and pushed himself off the wall, and threw away his Lho. 'Yeah, okay. Let's get this over and damn well done with, then.'

He began for the doors, and Darrance fell in step with him. 'You should not be so dismissive. After Sarkeath, I don't think anyone came out of that world unscathed,' said Darrance. 'Psychologically, I mean. I was lucky; I was in the Guncutter waiting in orbit for most of it but, Hayden, Karmen, Tathe and his men. Adelana, you...'

Attelus shrugged; he understood exactly what Darrance meant, so try not being too hard on them.

But it didn't matter if he wasn't hard on them; what mattered was what the Inquisitor did. The Eldar claimed they were cleared of corruption, but Attelus didn't know if that would matter to her at all.



Darrance and Attelus walked down the plain stone black walls and floors of the refectory's corridor. It was only about a metre and half wide, and the tall walls seemed to enclose on Attelus like a nightmare. Light angled through the right-side lead-lined windows about five metres above. The now almost foreign whirring of the air recyclers rumbled inside Attelus' ears.

It was a paradise compared to the rusting, smog coated hell-hole outside, but it couldn't have been more of a stark contrast to the white, articulated, alien world of the Eldar vessel they'd left behind. Familiarity breeds contempt, as they say, and this couldn't have been more true with Attelus and "The Intimidation Factor." Many of the Imperium's buildings were built for just seemed cartoonish and almost foolish now. Before his induction into the Inquisition and augmentation, he had faced down a rampaging, stimmed up and highly augmented Arco-Flaggelant and years before, that one of the infamous alien, lizard-like mercenaries a Loxatil. After that, Etuarq's extremely powerful psychic puppet Inquisitor Nonin Edracian and, after that, frigging Space Marines. Then on Sarkeath, he had held out against one the most terrifying and powerful creatures ever to exist, a Bloodthirster of the Blood God. He had utterly no hope of winning against; all he could do was dodge and dart its endless onslaught of attacks until exhaustion completely overtook him; he only survived because of the intervention of his father and his...brainwashed agents, then Attelus' friends. But even still, all of this while anxiety and fear fuelled adrenaline smashing through his every inch. If he could face those terrifying things, a building was less than nothing.

Besides, Attelus had seen first-hand how easily a sustained orbital bombardment could level buildings such as these. Which wasn't a comforting thought; now he was walking through one, in all honesty.

They turned off into a side corridor to find Adelana and Delathasi standing at a door about halfway down. Attelus felt sorry for Adelana; guard duty was a frigging bore. It annoyed Attelus Darrance had Adelana guarding Hayden without his consultation as he could've got someone else to do it. But Adelana didn't seem to mind as she chatted away with her fellow apprentice in a soft, amicable exchange.

'Young mamzel Delathasi, young mamzel Adelana,' said Darrance as they approached. 'Getting along well, I see.'

Delathasi nodded a nod which almost made her chin hit her throat. 'Yes, master.'

Darrance smiled. 'That is good to see. I am glad to see you two are being friendly.'

Delathasi and Adelana exchanged glances.

'Delathasi,' said Darrance. 'I have been meaning to speak of this to you for a while, but I have been quite pre-occupied, but after your exemplary performance on Sarkeath, I am going to recommend you face the trials.'

Delathasi gaped and exchanged a glance with Adelana. 'Are you...Are you sure, master?'

'Of course, I am sure,' said Darrance as if it was the most ridiculous question ever uttered, and Attelus actually tended to agree.

Delathasi had performed far and beyond the call of duty. Attelus just hoped the young woman would survive it. Not long after the death of Omnartus, Attelus had gone through the trials to become a full-fledged finally assassin, then the trials to become a master-assassin in the eyes of the Cult. Until then and thereafter, a Cult that had been an unknown distant thing which Attelus held no care or loyalty towards, but his ascension was necessary so he could access the Cult's vast resources and recruit elite killers for Jelcine Enandra's cause. Attelus had taken both of those trials over the period of three weeks; no other member of the Cult had managed both trials over such a short time, and Attelus' only survived due to the enhancements given to him by Farseer Faleaseen.

And Attelus sure as hell never wanted to go through that torture ever again.

Attelus stole a glance at Adelana, who smiled at Delathasi, her new friend? He'd never considered the two of them getting along so well, but it made sense; both were in similar situations. Both were sweethearts despite everything they'd been through.

Darrance had seen this, though. Perhaps he should be the leader instead of Attelus?

Delathasi seemed to fade into the background for Attelus, but that was because she didn't adhere to his ideal of beauty; he knew he could be shallow sometimes. He should've learned that when he was so dismissive of Adelana's friend Seleen three years ago when he came close to leaving her to be killed by Space Marines during their escape of Taryst's tower if it hadn't been for Adelana begging him to save her.

Then it turned out Seleen wasn't just from Velrosia too, but she was a truly kind person who was there for Adelana the whole way.

Attelus looked back to Adelana; even if she weren't leaving, he wouldn't let her go through the trials; he couldn't risk losing her to that farce; she was too valuable to the Inquisition.

And to him.

And he doubted she'd ever want to; she'd been there with him when he'd gone through it and...

'Excuse us, ladies,' said Darrance, bringing Attelus back to reality. 'We are here to speak to Hayden.'

'Yep!' said Adelana. 'Head on in.'

Darrance nodded and opened the door, and headed inside; Attelus followed.

'Th-thank you,' said Attelus to Adelana, which made her raise an eyebrow.

'Okay, Attelus,' she said with a giggle that shook her ponytail. 'Thank you, to you too, I suppose.'

Attelus felt his face flush wild as both Delathasi and Adelana laughed.

With the lights off, Hayden was a shadow among shadows in the small space as he sat on his bed, his back to Attelus and Darrance as they entered. The sniper was hunched forwards so badly it made Attelus try to straighten his own posture.

'What do you want?' said Hayden, his voice the ghost of a croak.

It took a second for Attelus' photo-contacts to adjust to low-light vision. But Hayden wore his syn skin bodyglove, so he was still an almost indistinguishable blob from the neck down.

'We just wish to talk, old friend,' said Darrance.

'Old friend? Old friend? The old friend who stalks me where ever I go? And lectures me? Has people guard my door?'

'Darrance was just doing what I asked him to,' said Attelus. 'I'm in charge here, so if there's any one who you should be upset with, it's me, not him.'

Hayden snorted. 'I'm already upset with you, and I have no interest in talking to you. You young fool.'

'As I said, Hayden: I'm in charge here, so we're talking whether you want to or not.'

'Attelus Kaltos, the tyrant, huh? Pretty good ring, actually. Or I should say "in all honesty"? The power's gone to your head, eh?'

Attelus sighed. 'In all...I didn't want to be the leader of this expedition, Hayden. I shouldn't have been placed in charge, at all, in all...And if I was a tyrant, if this pathetic level of power had gone to my head, you'd likely be already dead.'

'Aww, it's such a burden, isn't it? Boohoo woe is me, I'm Attelus "billions of people are dead because of me, and I keep my scar so I can remember my mistakes, but I'll keep going because "purpose", blah, blah...blah," Kaltos. What a load of crap.'

Darrance frowned and shared a glance with Attelus. Darrance's head seemed to float in the green-lit room.

'Hayden, we are here because we are concerned for you,' said Darrance. 'If you are like this when we get back to the Inquisitor; she might-'

'Kill me? I would rather die than deal with this crap. I would rather die than work under Attelus any more.'

'Well, once we're back, you won't have to,' said Attelus. 'But please try to appreciate our perspective; what you almost did was-'

'Was what? Evil? Frig it, Attelus, we are employed in the damned Inquisition! How many worlds besides Omnartus have died at their order over the millennia? Thousands? Millions? You are the history buff; you should know. Those "innocent civilians" were a pittance in comparison to that. It was either them or all of us dying in complete agony.'

Darrance said, 'Obviously not, Hayden-'

'Saderth, how was I supposed to know this fool would be able to free us? How was I supposed to know? Adelana said I should have had "faith" in you, but how could I in that situation?'

Hayden finally turned to them, his red filled eyes wide with anger, the bags around his eyes so sunken, they seemed ringed with blackness.

'Why is everyone on me? This little fool slaughtered-'

'This is not about him, Hayden. We have already gone over this. At least Attelus regrets what he did, even if he did it without his control.'

'And what? I should regret something I didn't even do? If I had been in charge-'

'We would never have reached Sarkeath by now,' said Darrance. 'And we never would have received that lead to our enemy. The apprentice might be a pain in the rectum, sure, but he needed to take the lead on this.'

Attelus couldn't help roll his eyes; thanks, Darrance.

'Whatever you say, Saderth,' snapped Hayden. 'Then he should have handed leadership over after we arrived on that accursed planet.'

'To who, Hayden?' said Attelus, as he folded his arms across his chest. 'Who should I've given seniority to when we landed on Sarkeath?'

The sniper furrowed his brow for a second, then his eyes locked on Attelus.

'Let me guess,' said Attelus, 'I should've given it to you, then?'

Hayden grimaced. 'Yes.' Then he turned his back on them again.

'Old friend-'

'Darrance! If you call me "old friend" again, I cannot be responsible for what I'll do to you.'

Attelus was glad Hayden had his back to them as a smile slowly crossed Darrance's face, like a sword being drawn. Attelus knew an "I would like to see you try" smile when he saw one. And, well, Hayden would lose. Hayden was bereft of his Long-Las and not a close-quarters combat specialist like Darrance and Attelus, despite his size, not to mention Darrance had a powersword sheathed at his hip.

'With respect...friend,' said Darrance. 'You are talented at a great many things, but leadership ability is not on the top of that list.'

Hayden groaned and rubbed his face into his hands. 'This is how you are supposed to help me? Again, lecture me because I had the balls to-'

'Yeah, such frigging balls,' said Attelus as sudden anger overtook him. 'Such frigging balls that you backed down a split second after Tathe killed Vark. You didn't give a gak about the mission or sacrificing a few for the good of many, as you imply. You were just frigging scared. You were just afraid to die.'

Hayden launched to his feet and turned on them. 'You little bastard! Are you saying I'm a coward? What'd you have done if you were there, huh?'

'In all honesty, I don't know. Fear is ever-present in the back of my mind, Hayden. Forever tapping away at my will, so perhaps I would've been like you. So I won't...I can't call you a coward or judge you for that as it would make me a gigantic hypocrite.'

Hayden didn't say anything; he just glared at him.

'But...If you killed those people, your survival would've been proven pointless,' said Attelus. 'You would've been corrupted, lost to Chaos, rendering all of your struggle through the battle worthless. Betraying your humanity.'

'How do you know that?'

'Because it's obvious, Hayden, and you know it,' said Attelus. 'Why do you think General Tathe wanted you to kill them so damned badly? I think I think you need to recognise you made a mistake, the surviving soldiers of the Imperial Guard have realised that, why not you? I think I know why you're not perfect, Hayden. No one is, not even you. Let's go, Darrance.'

Darrance nodded, then they turned and left Hayden to lurk alone in his dark room.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Now they were planet-side, and there was little room inside the refectories Tathe and his men had to train outside in the courtyard. The damned smog-covered and pollen inflicted courtyard. They'd chalked up target outlines on the rockcrete wall and practising their marksmanship with their lasguns on their lowest power setting as Tathe watched on over their shoulders.

Tathe knew he was rather redundant here, he was never even close to being the best shot in the Velrosian regiment than the contingent, and they could drill without or without him. Still, under the circumstances, he felt like his presence might help somewhat. In contrast to the CQC sparring, the Sovrithians excelled over the Elbyrans, which didn't surprise Tathe; he had learned of their marksmanship first-hand during their brief conflict back on Sarkeath. Tathe had questioned the six Sorithians who'd elected to come with them during their trip, troopers Quadron, Verlik, Tarri, Holyon, Vorrostyr and Vettryli; none of their senior officers or NCOs had survived the battle. All were good, dedicated men, maybe a bit too dedicated; Tathe wasn't sure how they would cope dealing with the more morally ambiguous situations a servant of the Inquisition might have to deal with. Although, they had to travel in a Xenos ship. All six were more than capable at shooting; it'd been a large emphasis in their training as line infantry, the philosophy being "one shot, one kill," and, "there was little point of focusing on close combat when you're able to lay down a wall of las-fire no enemy can ever get close." A philosophy Tathe could understand and even appreciate, but that might work on a battlefield in a regiment with a thousand men. Still, in the small team of black-ops wet work the Inquisition usually deal in, it just wasn't practical, and the Sovrithians had seemed to agree. So Tathe had worked to diversify their skill-set, especially hand-to-hand combat and individual combat drills. Turn them into warriors rather than soldiers to be able to think on their feet and improvise rather than just follow orders like the Velrosian scouts and, to a lesser extent, the Velrosian regiment as a whole. But the Sovrithians had been well trained and drilled and brainwashed into their tactical philosophy, so it was going to take a good long while. The difference between a warrior and soldier mindset was a murky one and could become even murkier as they often can mix together. But typically, a warrior was a fighter who fought as an individual, who focused on personal martial prowess, to think outside the box and adapt through imagination and creativity. Still, they also saw battle as a competition, as a way to prove their mettle and earn their own glory and honour. And on a tactical level and especially on a strategic level, one man can only do so much no matter how skilled they are. Soldiers, as hinted at, fought, as a team, always together and to keep cohesion, they weren't encouraged to improvise as much; that was up to their unit commander. They fought more for their squadmates and overall victory. A scout trooper and assassins like Attelus Kaltos were a combination of the two; individual ability and free-thinking were held above all things, but they held the concepts of honour and glory almost in contempt. They also attempted to negate the weaknesses of being alone by using stealth and every possible weapon in their stockpile. They fought to win and the overall victory like a soldier. Although a scout trooper would work in a team far better than Attelus Kaltos, scouts had to fight in both capacities more; this Tathe had seen first-hand during their battle against the Resurrected on Sarkeath.

Speaking of scout troopers, Dellenger was with them now, his sharp features still drawn and even more pale and his abilities not what they once were, as he took shot after shot at his target, which were either near misses or near the edges. Dellenger, for the first time since Tathe had first met him, had grown ragged stubble as black as his hair, and he struggled against the pain in his chest. But it was good to have him back, despite the strange circumstances. Tathe and Dellenger hadn't spoken often since the scout trooper had claimed he was Adrassil, only when they had to for professional reasons. The scout trooper seemed back to his old awkward, stoic self, but how much of that was genuine?

Tathe glanced at the entrance of the refectory's main building. So far, none of the Throne Agents had deigned to join them in training since they left Sarkeath, not even after their de-briefing. In fact, Tathe hadn't seen them ever training, too busy rolling in self-pity and angst and their own relationship drama, he supposed, another problem with the warrior mentality as the constant discipline of being forced to work alongside your brothers in arms makes it harder to wallow in angst. But then again, it made a soldier suppress that pain, potentially making it worse in the long run.

Tathe wanted to bring this up to Attelus as he felt a wall being made between the Throne Agents and his soldiers; he only hadn't already because the Commissar felt he shouldn't have to. Some of the troopers were beginning to feel like they weren't good enough to them.

Clenching his teeth, Tathe activated his vox bead and tuned it.

'H-how can I help you, Commissar?' said Attelus.

'I would like you down in the courtyard and soon,' said Tathe; Attelus might've "outranked" him, but he was still a leader, he'd been that his whole damned life and this little bastard would listen to him, by the Emperor.

'Okay...but why?'

Tathe bristled. 'I will inform you when you get down here.'

'Okay, Darrance and I have just finished an errand, so we'll be there soon.'

'Good,' said Tathe, and cut the link before the little fool could reply, and he sighed; Attelus Kaltos still had much to learn.

But at least he seemed to have the self-awareness to know this somewhat.



Tathe only had to wait a few minutes before Attelus and Darrance emerged from the black stone building around twenty metres away. Attelus, as usual, had his hands in his pockets and a Lho in his mouth; he seemed relaxed, but Tathe knew he would react to anything in less than a split second. Darrance walked with his normal haughty, pronounced, almost effeminate gait. Darrance was still an enigma to Tathe. He had seen his incredible ability as a pilot, but nothing else, but Darrance was an assassin supposedly close in ability to Attelus. Attelus raised a hand in greeting as they began to approach, a gesture Tathe didn't bother to return as he stormed towards them. Both Darrance and Attelus seemed taken aback by this but kept walking toward Tathe.

'I need to bring something up with you, Attelus Kaltos,' said Tathe as they halted about a metre from him.

'Yeah, I guessed that,' said Attelus. 'I know you have...issues with me, and I'm sorry-'

'Oh, stop with your apologies, and frigging listen to me. You need to begin working to integrate my people with yours.'

'Uhh, o-okay, how?'

Tathe couldn't help sigh and roll his eyes. 'For Emperor's sake, isn't it obvious? Get your group down here to begin training with mine. How did you not see that?'

Attelus and Darrance shared glances, and Darrance said, 'That is a good question; how did you not see that, apprentice?'

'I-'

'And why do you allow this ponce to disrespect you so much?' said Tathe, ignoring Darrance's dark look. 'You are a terrible leader.'

'I know,' said Attelus. 'I know I am. I'm learning, though and...'

'And?'

'You couldn't teach me to be a better leader?'

Tathe snorted. 'That's what I'm doing; now, you didn't figure that either?'

Attelus sighed. 'N-no, I didn't, in all honesty. I guess that was pretty obvious now you mention it.'

Darrance tilted his head to look over Tathe's shoulder, and Tathe followed his gaze. The guardsmen and women had stopped their shooting drills and were watching them.

Tathe looked back to Attelus and Darrance, who stared at Tathe.

'Damn it! What did I just say? Hurry up and get on with it!' Tathe snarled.



The beeping pierced the nothingness and into Attelus' very skull. His eyes twitched as his consciousness slowly seemed to comprehend it wasn't just a by-product of a dream but from his micro-bead, which lay on the table beside his bed.

With a groan and his eyes, three quarters closed, he reached his scrambling fingers for the little device. It took him a good few seconds to finally grasp it, push it into his ear and accept the call.

'H-hello?' he croaked.

'This is Throne Agent Kaltos of the Ordo Hereticus?' said the nasally, creaking voice of the administratum woman who Attelus' had already forgotten the name of.

'Speaking.'

'The Astropath has received a reply.'

Attelus sat up straight suddenly, slightly more awake. 'Really? Already?'

'Yes, sir.'

Attelus checked his wrist chron; it was 3 am sidereal. 'Excellent, yes. I'll be right there soon.'

'Good, farewell.'

The Adept then cut the link.

Attelus shook his head and rubbed his eyes in a bid to pull himself further into the conscious world.

That was quick.

Then finally, he seems to awaken entirely as another thought hit him, a frig ton too quick.

He lunged off his bed, snatched up his syn skin bodyglove and began slipping it on. The training between his Throne Agents and the Imperial Guard had gone well and seemed to have bonded them a bit over. It also seemed to distract them from their problems, and they'd seemed to enjoy it.

Attelus had taken on six Imperial Guard at once on close-quarters sparring and had a frigging blast none could lay a finger on him, and after a few minutes of this, Tathe had to call a stop. But even so, Attelus' opponents seem to enjoy it as well. Adelana had gone mono e mono against a guardsman too and had performed pretty well, managing to dodge and dart around him for about a minute and a half before being pinned. Attelus would've liked to have sparred Darrance, but he'd gone back to keep an eye on Hayden, freeing up Delathasi and Adelana to take part in the training regime. He would've also liked to have challenged Dellenger, but the scout trooper was still too weak. Karmen had refused to come out of her room to join in, though. Whether that was because of her anger toward him, or she thought she didn't need to train due to her psychic might, Attelus didn't know. But he was pretty sure it was the former reason; Karmen was a die-hard pragmatist; she knew the importance of physical training, just in case.

He finished slipping on his bodyglove and turned to grab his shoulder rig and equipment belt; he couldn't be bothered putting on his jeans. In hindsight, it'd been so frigging obvious to get them training together; why hadn't he thought of that? Attelus sighed and facepalmed; he'd been so embedded in feeling sorry for himself and all the drama even to consider such an idea. In truth, perhaps he couldn't order around the men and women of the Elbyran contingent as he'd held them up so high in his mind for so many years? That if he did something such as this, it'd step on a great leader such as Commissar Tathe's toes?

Attelus snatched up his flak jacket, put it on with practised ease, and took up his sheathed power sword. He paused, eyeing the sword with a frown. Karmen or Estella had given it to him back on Omnartus three years ago just before the gak really went south, and it was frigging luck too, as he needed it far more than the monomolecular sword he'd wielded before that, as almost every enemy close combat specialist he faced used a power weapon. Attelus hoped Karmen would forgive him one day; he was truly missing her company and...

Or was it luck? It could've been Faleaseen manipulating Karmen into giving it to him. Speaking of the Farseer, she hadn't spoken to him since just after their pyrrhic as hell victory back on Sarkeath.

Attelus shook himself back into reality and slipped his sheathed sword into the loops on his left hip. Could this be a trap? It was frigging likely; their enemy seemed to know everything so that they could have agents here on Iocanthos, more of the brainwashed, undead, enhanced beings they'd encountered on Sarkeath and Omnartus before that. He just hoped that one wasn't...her again.

Emperor damn it, why the frig did Etuarq bring her back? Why! In all honesty, Attelus knew why there were many reasons, but it all could be summed up with: "Etuarq is a psychopathic, sadistic bastard."

Sighing, Attelus grabbed the cameleoline cloak hanging from a chair, placed that over his shoulders and began securing that. Yet here he was about to slip off all alone in the night into what could be an obvious trap. Although Kalakor was out there somewhere keeping an eye out and yet, it seemed prudent to inform someone that he was going, just in case, and Attelus knew exactly who that had to be.

'Karmen,' Attelus sighed as he began for the door, but another thought caused him to pause. The head adept woman seemed frigging fresh at 3 am in the morning; why was that?

Attelus snorted and rolled his eyes as he started on again; it was probably because she'd just begun working. Attelus wouldn't put it past an Adept of the damned Administratum. It was a shame she'd called as he was finally sleeping well for the first time in a long time.



As he walked toward the main entrance of the refectory, Attelus finally gained the courage to call Karmen over the vox, and much to his surprise, she answered after a few rings.

'Hello, Attelus. What do you want?'

'I didn't expect you'd answer, in all honesty, Karmen.'

'No? You calling so early means it's important; I am not that unprofessional.'

'Hmm, makes sense,' he said. 'And it is, the local astropath has received a reply from the Inquisitor, supposedly. I'm going to the Counting House to see it.'

'Supposedly? I see; you want me to keep an eye on you, just in case it's a trap? Do you want me to follow you in spectral form?'

'You read my mind, Karmen and no, if our enemy have psykers, they might detect you. And...and I'd like to apologise.'

'Apologise?'

'I-I'm sorry I sided with Kalakor and not you.'

There was a pause. 'I shouldn't have been surprised you made sure I knew what's going on between us was "just casual", didn't you?'

Attelus flinched.

'And was it worth it, Attelus? Did you get the knowledge you wanted? Did Kalakor tell you what this "Imperial Truth" was?'

Attelus sighed. 'I don't know if it was worth it, in all honesty. I miss...'

He swallowed back the desperate words. 'Kalakor did tell me his history.'

'Okay, and what about "The Imperial Truth"?'

'No,' lied Attelus. 'No, he didn't tell me that.'

There was a pause.

'I will find out; eventually, you know that, right, Attelus Kaltos?'

'I know, Karmen.'

'I mean it, Attelus. I frigging mean it.'

'Just...just keep an eye out on me, Karmen. That's all you need to worry about right now. Oh, and make frigging sure you're out in the courtyard with us tomorrow...I mean today.'

Then he cut the link before she could reply.



It was raining, the sound of it clashing and ringing off the rusty metal roofing all around so strongly the sound seemed to engulf everything, including every inch of Attelus' pained throbbing skull. It silenced any potential sound of his footfalls, but it also silence those of any enemy trying to sneak up on him; ironically, it made it worse for him due to his enhanced hearing. Slipping from shadow to shadow, the cameleoline cloak wrapped around him; Attelus paused and knelt, watching the street. About twenty metres away, the street opened up into a large courtyard where the Counting House's black walls and the building itself beyond. He slipped his scope from its pouch and zoomed in on the place. Guards patrolled the wall and the building's balconies; they seemed bored but still alert and quite disciplined distinct improvement over the local militia of the locals on the outside walls. Impressive, they were a testament to Imperial soldiery.

Attelus lowered his scope and glanced around himself. He'd a paranoia of streets and alleyways, especially after his misadventures on Omnartus, but he knew he had to reveal himself for the guards. So he slipped off his cameleoline cloak and began for the gates.

Two guards took shelter in the small guardhouse on the right, both poor bastards looked frigging miserable, but even still, one of them walked out, shimmering beneath his wet weather overcoat.

'Are you the Throne Agent?' the guard yelled over the downpour.

Attelus wanted just to nod, but the guard probably wouldn't be able to see, so he just showed him his sigil.

The guard stared at it for a good few seconds before beckoning Attelus to follow as the large steel gates began to open. They only had to wait a few seconds before there was enough room for them to walk through, and they began onwards. By frig, Attelus wanted a smoke, but the rain would disintegrate it in seconds. Anyway, the main entrance wasn't too far and-

Attelus attention snapped up to a roof about seven metres above without moving his head, covering a balcony on his left by the slightest of movement. Attelus didn't slow, though or even take his hands from their pockets, he just hoped like hell it was Kalakor, but he doubted that roof could hold the Space Marine's weight.

Even bigger than the gates, the huge Gothic doors into the building began to roll ominously open. It amused Attelus that even in a backwater, but important nonetheless, gak hole, the Imperium still had to flaunt their over the top architecture. The Counting House almost reminded Attelus of many an Inquisition office throughout the Calixis Sector.

Then he and the guard finally stepped inside.



Like last time, Adept Kolmoroff was waiting for him in the foyer; ten guards accompanied her. The old woman's piercing augmented gaze seemed glued to Attelus. Her face so lined, it was hard to believe she wasn't born a short, wizened, hunched old hag in worn Administratum robes. Attelus frowned; hag? That was too harsher a word; so far, he found he liked the old woman.

Unless she'd sold them out, of course.

'Greetings, Agent of the Throne,' she said. 'How fairs your stay in the Refectory?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Alright, I guess, mamzel Kolmoroff. How fairs you doing Administratum...things?'

There was a pause. 'Alright...young man. Come, I will take you to the Astropath's quarters.'

Attelus raised a hand in acquiescence with a nod, and Kolmoroff nodded back and turned and led him onwards.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus still wanted a smoke, but Kolmoroff didn't seem the type who'd be happy about it. In silence, they walked through the corridor, Attelus trying to keep his constant glancing into every inch and corner of the barely lit, wide stone hallway secret and even in here, the sound of the downpour outside wouldn't go away. He was frigging glad of the silence; he hated and was terrible at small talk. He would've liked to question Kolmoroff, but he didn't want to risk tipping her off he was-

'Here we are,' said Kolmoroff as she stopped in front of one of the doors; about halfway down the hallway, there was a good twenty stretching to turn in the north and south. There was no cover, an excellent place for an ambush. Kolmoroff tapped her finger on the iron door.

But it didn't open.

The Adept's mouth dropped, then she slapped the iron with her palm. 'Daniss?'

Still no reply.

'Daniss?' she repeated and began slamming in quick succession, but Attelus stopped her.

'Get back,' Attelus said as he slowly drew his sword and Kolmoroff almost threw herself away.

'Wh-what are you doing?'

Attelus' sword exploded into life in a blaze of blue and, with one downward slice cut through the door hinges.

'By the Emperor!' Kolmoroff cried, then Attelus kicked in the door, sword at the ready.

The walls of the small hab unit were coated in blood and brain matter. A man in the robes of an astropath sat in a chair at a wooden desk down a small hallway on the other side of the room; it was clear that everything from the jaw upward had been reduced into a ragged mess. Attelus flinched, but what really disturbed him were the tiny holes coating the rock wall and the desk, indicating the skull had exploded from the inside out with so much velocity the bone shards had become shrapnel. The stink of blood, gore and excrement were somehow overtaken by the stench of psychic discharge. This wasn't good; this meant their enemy was a powerful psyker skilled enough to kill an astropath or had a psyker in their employ powerful enough.

'gak!' snarled Attelus.

'Wh-'

'When did you last talk to him?'

Kolmoroff just gaped at Attelus.

'When did you talk to your astropath last!'

'When-when he called me just before I called you; why?'

Before Attelus could answer, the lights around flickered, and then they died out.



Fifty-eight men patrolled the Counting Building's walls and balconies, and all fifty-eight were taken out simultaneously and in complete silence. Throats sliced open in ragged explosions of jetting red.

A black figure on the Counting House's roof flickered into view and waved a hand at the sky, a black ship floating about one hundred metres above appeared, dropped a good fifty metres and from its belly zip-lines lowered, then black-figure after black-figure began sliding down, as the guards' assassins began to close in.



Attelus tried the micro-bead yet again and yet again, got nothing but static.

'What is happening?' whined Kolmoroff.

Ignoring her, Attelus turned on one of the nearest guards. 'You! Get to the barracks and get the off duty men woken up! Tell them we're under attack! Now!'

'Y-yes, ma- I mean, sir!' said the guard, and he ran off like he was on fire.

'W-we are under attack?' cried Kolmoroff.

Hoping the attackers weren't somehow wearing syn skin bodygloves, Attelus blink-clicked his photo contacts to heat vision and drew his autopistol as the guards finally began to spread out lasguns raised.

'What do we do?' said Kolmoroff.

Attelus racked the slide, hoping that'd make her shut up as he listened. Was that hissing? A Lascutter? Sounds like it's on the main door and...

Padding footfalls incredibly light, practically silent approaching...

He listened, it must've only taken half a second, but it seemed like hours, and slowly more and more pairs, dozens of pairs and...

'gak!' he snapped and blink-clicked heat-vision off. 'They're already inside, and they're cutting through the main doors with las-cutters. Many, perhaps too many, are converging on us on both sides, all nine of you, face south and ready your guns. I'll take the north.'

The guards glanced at each other in bemusement. 'Now! Frig it. And open fire when I give the command, semi-auto, pinning fire, and conserve ammo. Mamzel Kolmoroff take cover.'

'Yes, sir,' the guards chorused.

'Throne Agent Kaltos-'

Attelus shushed Kolmoroff and closed his eyes, willing his night vision to set in and reached out even further with his hearing. He was no psyker, but his enhancement was psychic in nature and gave him to an extent, the ability to control his senses almost like one.

And...

His eyes snapped open. 'Open fire, now!'

The familiar chatter of las-fire erupted, and then Attelus was launching forwards towards the trio of shimmering forms emerging from around the corner and the others just behind.

Switching his autopistol to fully automatic, Attelus opened fire in a wild flurry, he wasn't the best shot but the sheer amount of rounds more than made up for his inaccuracy as two silhouettes writhed, and hazes of blood exploded from their backs.

Attelus was wearing syn skin, too, so he would've been a shimmering haze to the enemy as well. By then, four more had slipped out, and they opened fire, their silenced autoguns showering shots. Despite the dozens of rounds flying for him, Attelus didn't slow as his sword, a blur even to his eyes, deflected their fire. High yield suppressed autoguns, probably customised Armageddon Patterns, likely using armour penetrating manstopper rounds like in Attelus' pistol, simple but perfect for wet-work such as this, the Modus Operandi of the elite Sons of Dispater mercenaries. They only had time for a brief blurt before he was in amongst them.

His diagonal cut opened an attacker from right hip to left shoulder; the following slice gutted a second. Then the reverse went through another's throat. Attelus' sidekick crashed against the autogun of one who tried to raise it; the gun broke from the attacker's hands then into their chest. The attacker flew off his feet, hit the wall headfirst with an ugly crunch, and collapsed limply on their face. Attelus lastly sliced his sword into the chest of a fifth.

One assassin swung out the butt of their rifle, but Attelus weaved beneath it, then unleashed a burst of autopistol fire point-blank into his chest; the attacker convulsed and dropped with a cry of agony. Another enemy managed to bring up their autogun to their hip and rattled off a flurry. Attelus slid aside it, then threw out a high front kick. It smashed into the attacker's chin, and Attelus felt the bone collapse upward beneath his boot, then the attacker fell on his back so hard it seemed to shake the entire building.

All of this only took about two seconds. Attelus glanced around the corner. Many more cloaked figures were moving his way, and he pulled back as their shots spat. So Attelus only felt and heard his three frag grenades explode among them.

Their cries echoing in his ears, Attelus turned back and sprinted towards the guards and Kolmoroff, thanking his luck they were still standing and still alive. Their lasguns spitting. They could be assassins of the Sons of Dispater, but they weren't Etuarq's direct agents, which Attelus thanked his luck for. Etuarq's agents were enhanced too, their reflexes and strength equal to Attelus' own. But that didn't mean Etuarq wasn't their patron.

'I'm approaching on your six!' Attelus yelled and stopped just behind the guards, adding his own pistol shots to their barrage. 'The right side four of you, pinning fire to the north!'

Just as he hoped, four on the right spun simultaneously and began blasting, their discipline yet again impressing him.

His autopistol clicked dry, and he reloaded in a split-second. 'The rest of you turn north on three.'

'Sir! Yes, sir!'

'Three...' Attelus called as he readied himself to explode in a sprint.

'Two...One!'

The five guards turned as one and added their salvo to their comrades'.

The enemies finding themselves to no longer pinned Attelus, exploded forwards as they went to lean out and spread out cautiously. Their reactions were fast, damned fast as their autoguns began spitting. Attelus took one down with a flurry of autofire, his shots slicing the assassin across the chest left to right before he was forced into dodging and deflecting through their fire. He managed to lunge at the nearest and send the attacker's autogun swinging off aim with a roundhouse kick. Then Attelus stabbed him through the chest; the assassin writhed and screamed as Attelus knelt and forced the attacker to stand between him and the rest of his comrades as they turned their guns Attelus' way.

The assassin burst and squirmed as he was perforated by round after round. Attelus then stood and sent a sidekick into the assassin, throwing the corpse, wheeling off his sword and crashing into two more enemies. Attelus threw off another blurt of shots, one round which winged an attacker then through the knee of another. Attelus darted at the two still recovering assassins and finished them with a shot to the skull each.

Just before the shots from their fellows cut down Attelus, he darted behind the corner. Attelus cursed; dozens of more blurs were approaching from there; they must've managed to cut through the main doors. Attelus took out his last frag and tossed it around; he waited for the resulting blast, then leaned out and shot out a desperate barrage. He had the corner and cover now if he could hold them back perhaps-

'Attelus Xanthis Kaltos!'

The exclamation of his name made Attelus spin back, pistol raised, and he clenched his teeth.

All ten of the guards had stopped shooting and were pointing their lasguns at the terrified Adept Kolomoroff with loose grips, their eyes wide and white as their tongues lolled in their dumb, gaping mouths.

Attelus knew when a psyker was controlling a person.

'Drop your weapons, now,' a tall, thin figure emerged from behind the shimmering figures further down the hallway; he wore a long buttoned up black storm coat, his head shaven except for a black, well-trimmed beard and large bushy eyebrows, his hands behind his back. 'You are such a great warrior and all, but you are also overly sentimental, too such an extent it could be a psychological issue called a "hero complex". Not just that, you must know that you will be soon overwhelmed and killed.'

Attelus took a glance at the wall.

The man saw that and shrugged. 'You might cut a hole through there and escape, but would you leave this poor, nice lady to die?'

'Who are you?' said Attelus but didn't lower his pistol. 'Why are you assaulting an Imperial compound with a whole frigging battalion of Sons of Dispater mercenaries?'

'Ahh, so you managed to figure that out; I should not be surprised you being a former mercenary. Now drop your weapons or the nice elderly Administratum drone dies.'

Attelus clenched his teeth; how did this man know so much about him? An Inquisitor, this idiot had to be an Inquisitor. Then he looked to Kolmoroff. 'Screw this frigger,' she snarled. 'Just-'

'Shut it, you old bitch!' the man snarled as he pulled out a bolt pistol and exploded a guard's skull with a point-blank round. Kolmoroff to yelp out and flinch as the poor man's blood and brain matter splattered all over her. Then the man pointed the smoking pistol at Attelus.

'You know I have a force of dozens of elite Inquisitorial agents staying in the refectory, including a beta-level psyker, right?' said Attelus.

'Oh, I know, but I have an ace up my sleeve, just a ship in orbit with its targets on the refectory as we speak. But, I mean, come on. Just drop your damned weapons already.'

Sighing, Attelus dropped his sword and pistol with clatters.

'Good,' said the man. 'Now your throwing knives, your mono knife and boot knife too.'

Groaning, Attelus began to do as told. 'Now, are you going to at least tell me who the frig you? are'

The man smiled and held out a rosette showing the sigil of the Ordo Xenos. 'I am Inquisitor Drevan, and it is so good to finally meet you.'

Attelus' chest became overtaken by heart-rendering fear.



Karmen sat at her desk in her room and tapped her finger on the desk, her jaw in the palm of her hand. The dim half-light of the stone room engulfed the walls, everything in her room in either shadow or visible with no gradient. The rain crashing on the wall hurt her ears. Attelus had been only away for about fifteen minutes, but something didn't feel right. She took a sip of her wine and sighed while trying to blink away her weariness.

She should have gone in incorporeal form and followed him, but his paranoia had prevented that. Even if it's understandable paranoia. But then he went and contradicted himself and left all by himself. Just his typical arrogance, Karmen supposed, he knew and so did she, Attelus could handle almost anything, but the galaxy was a large place.

She began reaching for her micro-bead, but it was then it chose to beep, Karmen didn't bother to check the code as she accepted the call.

'Attelus?'

'Oh no,' said an unfamiliar voice. 'This might be his vox link, but it is certainly not him. Unless there is something, I don't know.'

Karmen stood up, knocking her chair over. 'Who are you?'

The voice sighed. 'Inquisitor Draven, Ordo Xenos.'

Karmen's jaw dropped. 'You-'

'Yes it's me. I have your little boyfriend in my custody, as well as the Adepts and remaining guards of the Counting House, so you have to do as I say, understood?'

Karmen grimaced. 'What do you want?'

'The unconditional surrender of you and all of your people. I am sending over troops, so you better have your people ready soon. Understood?'

'Understood.'

'Oh! Another thing, my apologies, but I almost forgot I also have a ship in orbit that has the refectory targeted as well. I hope to have a candid and polite discussion very soon.'

Before she could reply, Draven cut the link.

Then her vox beeped again. 'Yes?'

'Mamzel Kons,' said a voice in a strong Velrosian accent. 'We've got targets closing in from the north, east and west. Moving in combat readiness. At least seventy, should we engage?'

Karmen sighed and facepalmed; by the Emperor, this was ridiculous; Attelus was a perpetual, but it was still too risky to fight back, especially with that ship. 'No, stand down, frig it.'

'S-stand down, mamzel?'

'Yes, yes, stand down, damn it,' sighed Karmen, then she changed to the main channel. The little fool.

'Everyone, we have enemies converging on us, but...'


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in nz
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

His wrists now bound behind his back and his ankles with pairs of strong wrist binders Attelus couldn't help but believe were made from adamantium; he knelt on the floor. They'd restored the lights, and he was surrounded by a dozen Sons who him covered with their autoguns as though their lives depended on it. They sure weren't taking any chances with him, and Attelus couldn't blame them. The autoguns they wielded were, indeed, Armageddon Patterns; while they didn't fire as many rounds as a standard autogun, they more than made up for it with stopping power and reliability.

Inquisitor Draven paced back and forth, his attention to the floor seeming lost in thought. They were in the cavernous main counting hall where all the prisoners knelt in, shaking terror hands on their heads. The stink of old body odour mixed with new body odour was thick in Attelus' nostrils so bad it made his eyes water.

Attelus knew of Draven but, until now, had never met him. Jelcine Enandra had informed Attelus of him. Draven had been another of Inquisitor Devan Torathe's students a long time ago before Enandra. From what Attelus understood, Draven had left the Calixis Sector not long after his ascendency from Interrogator to work in the Askellon Sector, far to the galactic east of the Calixis Sector. Attelus couldn't blame him for wanting to escape the corrupt and accursed Calixis Sector. Enandra and Draven never got along; Draven was a highly religious Amalathian and Enandra, well, wasn't. Attelus had a good idea why Draven was here. The conditions of the death of his former master and the destruction of Omnartus were highly, highly classified even inside the Inquisition; only Enandra and Lord-Inquisitor Caidin of the Ordos Calixis and the three heads of the Ordo Hereticus, Ordo Malleus and Ordo Xenos knew. Well, them and Inquisitor Tybalt, their ally of convenience during the Omnartus Incident, had travelled all the frigging way from Segmentum Pacificus chasing leads which led him to Omnartus. As far as Attelus knew, Brutis "Bones" Tybalt had gone back. So, had Draven travelled here to find answers? Did he know of Inquisitor Enandra's more radical tendencies and come to bring her down? Why was he after Attelus and his people here on Iocanthos? Attelus could guess that, too, Draven wanted to use him and his people as hostages to leverage Enandra. Not just that, but Enandra had what could be described as an incredibly skilled and disciplined private army, and the Calixis Sector was her own home-ground, so to speak if he began an Inquisition civil war with her. Which wouldn't be the first time, nor the last time the Inquisition went to war with itself over the millennia.

In all honesty, that Draven showing up now was suspicious as all hell. Was he being manipulated by Etuarq? Etuarq has manipulated many Inquisitors over the years; Edracian, Torathe, and their current quarry Soloston were the only ones they knew of. By the Emperor, they didn't need this now and where the frig was Kalakor? Did they know about him? Knowing Kalakor, he was just watching to gather data on this and might just intervene only when really needing to. The Sons of Dispater were good, damned good. But there was no way in the warp they'd be able to find him.

The doors swung open, and a withered, short man in a beige overcoat. His head was shaven, and pipes ran from the back of his skull. He carried a wooden staff with an Aquila at its head which he grasped with both gloved hands. This was obviously Draven's pet psyker; he seemed perhaps, primaris, specialised Imperial Battle-Psyker; no wonder the astropath died such a messy death.

Draven turned and stomped over to the psyker.

As Attelus watched the Inquisitor, he caught Kolmoroff's unreadable gaze. She was shaking, staring at him, and Attelus managed what he hoped was an encouraging smile and nod. She didn't smile, but she did nod back.

The psyker and Draven met near the entrance; Attelus felt the psychic connection between them, and he frowned. He was hoping to eavesdrop, but even if they didn't speak psychically, they'd have some super complicated cant he had no hope to decode.

Draven and the psyker seemed to speak for about half a minute before Draven, and the psyker began to storm towards Attelus. Draven then tossed Attelus' micro-bead; it hit Attelus on the chest before falling to the floor.

'Your private vox network was impossible to hack into,' said Draven. 'I am impressed, but now we have full access thanks to having your vox-link. I should not be surprised, you do work for Jelcine Enandra, and she only uses the best.'

Attelus shrugged; he wanted to point out that was just one of the many reasons Draven shouldn't be making her an enemy but wisely bit his tongue.

'Why? Why are you doing this?' Attelus said instead.

Draven shared an exaggerated confused look with the psyker. 'I thought you might have figured that out already.'

Attelus frowned and said nothing that was an interrogation technique to cause him to blurt out his assumptions which may or may not hold a piece of information Draven didn't know.

The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. 'Worth a try, I suppose. It seems I have underestimated you again. How about I cut straight to it then? Subtlety can be so very overrated. As I am sure you have guessed, I have come all the way to this crap hole of a world for answers and a bargaining chip, I suppose. I think you and I should make a deal.'

It was Attelus' turn to raise an eyebrow. 'A...deal?'

'Yes, indeed.'

Attelus sighed. 'And let me guess, I answer your questions, and you won't have that psyker mind-rape the gak out of me to find them?'

What seemed like a smile crossed behind Draven's beard. 'Not exactly. I was actually going to play a game of "question exchange," you ask me a question, which I will answer, then I get to ask you one back and forth and so on and so on.'

Attelus couldn't hide his surprise.

'And besides, I suspect that if good Kitril here tried to scan your thoughts, it would take God-Emperor only knows how long to break through whatever mind block you have and might burn out your brain in the process. You are too valuable to kill, Attelus Kaltos.'

'"Too valuable to kill," as of now, you mean?'

'A cynical but an understandable assumption. Now, I answered your question. You answer mine.'

'I didn't agree to your "deal", Draven. And you answered my question in the most vague, unhelpful way imaginable.'

With a sign, Draven drew his bolt pistol, turned and shot one of the adepts through the chest.

Ignoring the cries and screams of fear, Draven looked back at Attelus. 'You killed that man, you smart mouth to me again or refuse me; I will kill another. Understood. You are lucky that I have not brought you up to my ship and placed you on the rack.'

Clenching his teeth, Attelus nodded. He wanted to tell this idiot he was killing innocent Imperial citizens who had nothing to do with anything that he should be protecting, not murdering them to blackmail information! Jelcine said that Draven was a conservative Amalathian, which meant they worked their hardest to co-operate with Imperial institutions and fight to keep the status quo, no matter how objectively gakky it was. This act was against almost everything an Amalathian would stand for. It seemed over the decades Draven had been radicalised or lost his damn mind.

Or just a hypocrite, an Inquisitor who was a hypocrite? Impossible!?

Draven studied Attelus, his thin fingers stroking through his beard. 'If I ask you a question and I think you are not telling me the truth, well...You will have another death on your conscience; you slaughtered so many Sons of Dispater I doubt they will want me to employ them ever again. Not that it would matter.'

Attelus said nothing, just fixed Draven with a glare. Draven held his gaze, smirking behind his beard. 'So, you now agree to my deal?'

'Yes...'

'Of course you do,' said Draven. 'You might have all the combat skill and inhuman reflexes, but all of that means nothing, nothing when you face me. Especially when you are held back by naive sentiment like you, Throne Agent Kaltos.'

By the Emperor, this gak head sounded just like Attelus' father. 'Can you please just ask your question?'

Sudden rage glazed Draven's eyes, and he aimed his bolt pistol at another adept.

'Alright! Alright! I'm sorry. I won't talk back again. I understand; I'm a naive fool, just please don't kill anyone anymore.'

Draven sneered, and even behind his beard, it was one of the ugliest expressions Attelus had ever seen, but Draven still lowered his pistol. 'Absolutely pathetic, you truly are one of Enandra's lackeys. How did Inquisitor Devan Torathe die?'

The abrupt bluntness of the question caught Attelus off guard, but that was the point. The vision Faleaseen showed him of the literal blood-soaked bridge of Torathe's vessel, which Attelus had long ago forgotten the name of, and the dozens of corpses lying everywhere, Torathe among them. His glazed eyes staring at the ceiling, his throat rendered open.

'I...I don't know, in all honesty.'

Drevan's eye twitched, and he then his pistol at a guard.

'Wait. Wait, by the Emperor, just wait. I...I think his throat had been cut, but I wasn't there when he was killed. I have never been told who did it or how I swear.'

Drevan sneered and lowered his pistol. 'Half-truths do not work on me, boy.'

'I-I wasn't trying-'

'Just shut it! Now, you ask your question.'

Attelus' swallowed as it finally dawned on him how out of his depth he was; Inquisitor Drevan could read him like Torris would read the average person. His earlier boast of: "'You might have all the combat skill and inhuman reflexes, but all of that means nothing, nothing when you face me" wasn't an idle one. But ironically, Attelus was telling the truth initially, as he didn't truly know how Torathe died. If he'd learned anything from working with Faleaseen over the years was that the future was a fluid thing no matter how skilled one was at far sight. This was shown in the vision Faleaseen had shown him just after Omnartus' destruction of a glimpse of blood-soaked war-torn Sarkeath. What she showed didn't even happen, and she claimed the person he spoke to in the vision changed each time she looked. Attelus had talked to Adelana in the vision, but sometimes it was Torris or even Arlathan Karkin who hadn't even come with them to Sarkeath. Torathe had died, but he might not have died by his throat being cut; it could've been hundreds or thousands of other ways. Attelus wouldn't know until Arlathan or Inquisitor Enandra or one of the others who had come upon that scene told him.

'H-how are you here on Iocanthos?'

Drevan shared a look with the psyker again and seemed to begin to answer, but his micro-bead beeped, and he took it.

He answered with an: 'Mhmm,' and an "Uh-huh," then a "Yes, understood." Before he switched off his link and looked back to Attelus, smirking almost from ear to ear. 'The Refectory has been secured by my men, and your people have surrendered. Although, I do have a few questions about certain members of your entourage.'

Attelus grimaced, hoping like hell he wasn't referring to Kalakor and rather how the Elbyran Contingent and Sovrithian soldiers were there.

Drevan studied Attelus for a few seconds before shaking his head. 'Now, back on the subject at hand. You wish to know how we are here? We had arrived in orbit of Scintilla a few days after you and your team had gone; we had found this via my acolyte's scoring over lead after lead. Eventually, we found that you, under an alias, had bought passage on The Calamandastron. The intended destination was not recorded, but my extremely skilled Navigator managed to calculate its intended destination. So, using our powerful warp drive, we managed to catch the Calamandastron. But actually, we overtook it and had to wait a day for its arrival at the Hredrin Star System. When captain Durpount and his ship emerged from warp space, we intercepted him, and we found no sign of you and your team on board. So, after some convincing, Durpount informed me that, despite the fact you originally were going to travel with him all the way to the Canopus but you had him take a detour to the Iocanthos system where you and your Guncutter left his ship, then went and disappeared. So we came here. I sent down agents to the surface in secret to try to locate you, but they found nothing. Nothing at all, so I guessed that you had left the system by taking a ride with another star-ship. One that has no official record of being here. But, yet, something in my gut said you would come back to Iocanthos, so I waited and lo and behold, you and your people just happen to walk up to the gates of Port Suffering waving your icon. So, now, here we are. Does that answer your question?'

Attelus stared up at Drevan with wide eyes, surprised the Inquisitor would give him such a candid answer, but eventually, he managed to nod and went to ask why he'd gone to so much trouble, but Drevan hushed him with a raised hand. 'That was my answer to your one question, Attelus Kaltos, I might be a ruthless bastard, but I keep to my word. You, I know, do not. Now it is my turn.'

A frown crossed Attelus' face; Drevan was probably telling him this because he was going to kill him; too bad Drevan didn't know he was a perpetual.

So far as Attelus knew, anyway.

'Why did Torathe die?'

Attelus' eyes fell to the floor, unable to handle the intensity in Drevan's watering eyes. 'He...he had fallen. Fallen into radicalism, not into dealing with daemons but the opposite way, he'd lost his sanity and became an extremist Libricar.'

Drevan's eyes narrowed.

'He had ordered the destruction of Omnartus. So you see, we had to take him down before he could do more damage.'

'I am not sure I believe you.'

'You seem like you know everything about me and know when I'm lying. Do I seem to like I'm lying now?'

Drevan smirked, and it was then Attelus realised his mistake. 'No, you do not seem to be lying, or at least you believe you are not lying. That is your question.'

Attelus glanced at the Primaris psyker who had been watching Attelus most of the time with his grey, dead eyes. Attelus had already forgotten his name and didn't care to try to remember it.

'Eyes on me, Attelus Kaltos,' snarled Draven. 'Hredrin, get to the Refectory and

Attelus looked back to Draven, he couldn't sense any psychic activity from the psyker, but perhaps he was trying to do something to Attelus' mind so subtle he couldn't feel it. Although, Attelus doubted it, and he wouldn't be able to pry any truth no matter how subtly, as Karmen Kons couldn't even read his surface thoughts unless Attelus allowed it. That and Primaris psykers weren't known for their subtlety, but there were always exceptions to the rule, and this powerful bastard was unlikely the only psyker working in Draven's Warband.

Draven seemed to tower over Attelus even more now, like one of the mile-high saint statues on Scintilla.

'Why?' said Draven. 'Why did my former master order the death of Omnartus?'

Attelus dropped his head into a sigh. 'That-that, Inquisitor, is one frigging long, long story. I'll try to give you the abridged version. He received an astropathic communication from an old ally of his, an Inquisitor Edracian, baring an image of Torathe's long-dead daughter and Interrogator at the time, Amanda Heartsa and saying something I still don't know. Whatever it was caused Torathe to lose his mind, take control of an entire Space Marine chapter, and then have Omnartus and all of its twenty billion innocent people to die...Burning.'

The Inquisitor grinned. 'And I can tell that you played a part in that...incident, a part you deeply, deeply regret. Traumatised by it, maybe.'

Fighting back the tears, Attelus nodded. 'Yes, I do. I truly do.'

Draven's grin twisted into something even more ugly than his earlier sneer. 'Oh, I am afraid your "Abridged" version is not enough. Not even close. You are going to tell me all of it and in that, relive your trauma, and I am going to enjoy every second of it. And do not worry about how long it will take; as you can see, I have complete control of the situation, so I have all the time in this God-Emperor forsaken galaxy.'

Attelus fought back a smile; excellent, yes, you keep on believing that.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

His wrists now bound behind his back as well as his ankles with pairs of strong wrist binders Attelus couldn't help but believe made from adamantium; he knelt on the floor. They'd restored the lights, and he was surrounded by a dozen Sons who him covered with their autoguns as though their lives depended on it. They sure weren't taking any chances with him, and Attelus couldn't blame them. The autoguns they wielded were, indeed, Armageddon Patterns; At the same time, they didn't fire as many rounds as a standard autogun; they more than made up for it with stopping power and reliability.

Inquisitor Draven paced back and forth, his attention to the floor seeming lost in thought. They were in the cavernous main counting hall where all the prisoners knelt in, shaking terror hands on their heads. The stink of old body odour mixed with a new body odour was thick in Attelus' nostrils so bad it made his eyes water.

Attelus knew of Draven but, until now, had never met him. Jelcine Enandra had informed Attelus of him. Draven had been another of Inquisitor Devan Torathe's students a long time ago before Enandra. From what Attelus understood, Draven had left the Calixis Sector not long after his ascendency from Interrogator to work in the Askellon Sector, far to the galactic east of the Calixis Sector. Attelus couldn't blame him for wanting to escape the corrupt and accursed Calixis Sector. Enandra and Draven never got along; Draven was a highly religious Amalathian and Enandra, well, wasn't. Attelus had a good idea why Draven was here. The conditions of the death of his former master and the destruction of Omnartus were highly, highly classified even inside the Inquisition; only Enandra and Lord-Inquisitor Caidin of the Ordos Calixis and the three heads of the Ordo Hereticus, Ordo Malleus and Ordo Xenos knew. Well, them and Inquisitor Tybalt, their ally of convenience during the Omnartus Incident who had travelled all the frigging way from Segmentum Pacificus chasing leads which led him to Omnartus. As far as Attelus knew, Brutis "Bones" Tybalt had gone back. So, had Draven travelled here to find answers? Did he know of Inquisitor Enandra's more radical tendencies and come to bring her down? Why was he after Attelus and his people here on Iocanthos? Attelus could guess that, too, Draven wanted to use him and his people as hostages to leverage Enandra. Not just that, but Enandra had what could be described as an incredibly skilled and disciplined private army, and the Calixis Sector was her own home-ground, so to speak, if he began an Inquisition civil war with her. Which wouldn't be the first time, nor the last time the Inquisition went to war with itself over the millennia.

In all honesty, that Draven showing up now was suspicious as all hell. Was he being manipulated by Etuarq? Etuarq has manipulated many Inquisitors over the years; Edracian, Torathe, and their current quarry Soloston were the only ones they knew of. By the Emperor, they didn't need this now and where the frig was Kalakor? Did they know about him? Knowing Kalakor, he was just watching to gather data on this and might just intervene only when really needing to. The Sons of Dispater were good, damned good. But there was no way in the warp they'd be able to find him.

The doors swung open, and a withered, short man in a beige overcoat. His head was shaven, and pipes ran from the back of his skull. He carried a wooden staff with an Aquila at its head which he grasped with both gloved hands. This was obviously Draven's pet psyker; he seemed perhaps, primaris, specialised Imperial Battle-Psyker; no wonder the astropath died such a messy death.

Draven turned and stomped over to the psyker.

As Attelus watched the Inquisitor, he caught Kolmoroff's unreadable gaze. She was shaking, staring at him, and Attelus managed what he hoped was an encouraging smile and nod. She didn't smile, but she did nod back.

The psyker and Draven met near the entrance; Attelus felt the psychic connection between them, and he frowned. He was hoping to eavesdrop, but even if they didn't speak psychically, they'd have some super complicated cant he had no hope to decode.

Draven and the psyker seemed to speak for about half a minute before Draven and the psyker began to storm towards Attelus. Draven then tossed Attelus' micro-bead; it hit Attelus on the chest before falling to the floor.

'Your private vox network was impossible to hack into,' said Draven. 'I am impressed, but now we have full access thanks to having your vox-link. I should not be surprised, you do work for Jelcine Enandra, and she only uses the best.'

Attelus shrugged; he wanted to point out that was just one of the many reasons why Draven shouldn't be making her an enemy but wisely bit his tongue.

'Why? Why are you doing this?' Attelus said instead.

Draven shared an exaggerated confused look with the psyker. 'I thought you might have figured that out already.'

Attelus frowned and said nothing that was an interrogation technique to cause him to blurt out his assumptions which may or may not hold a piece of information Draven didn't know.

The Inquisitor raised an eyebrow, then shrugged. 'Worth a try, I suppose. It seems I have underestimated you again. How about I cut straight to it then? Subtlety can be so very overrated. As I am sure you have guessed, I have come all the way to this crap hole of a world for answers and a bargaining chip, I suppose. I think you and I should make a deal.'

It was Attelus' turn to raise an eyebrow. 'A...deal?'

'Yes, indeed.'

Attelus sighed. 'And let me guess, I answer your questions, and you won't have that psyker mind-rape the gak out of me to find them?'

What seemed like a smile crossed behind Draven's beard. 'Not exactly. I was actually going to play a game of "question exchange," you ask me a question, which I will answer, then I get to ask you one back and forth and so on and so on.'

Attelus couldn't hide his surprise.

'And besides, I suspect that if good Kitril here tried to scan your thoughts, it would take God-Emperor only knows how long to breakthrough whatever mind block you have and might burn out your brain in the process. You are too valuable to kill, Attelus Kaltos.'

'"Too valuable to kill," as of now, you mean?'

'A cynical but an understandable assumption. Now, I answered your question. You answer mine.'

'I didn't agree to your "deal", Draven. And you answered my question in the most vague, unhelpful way imaginable.'

With a sigh, Draven drew his bolt pistol, turned and shot one of the adepts through the chest.

Ignoring the cries and screams of fear, Draven looked back at Attelus. 'You killed that man, your smart mouth to me again or refuse me; I will kill another. You are lucky that I have not brought you up to my ship and placed you on the rack.' Understood.

Clenching his teeth, Attelus nodded. He wanted to tell this idiot he was killing innocent Imperial citizens who had nothing to do with anything that he should be protecting, not murdering them to blackmail information! Jelcine said that Draven was a conservative Amalathian, which meant they worked their hardest to co-operate with Imperial institutions and fight to keep the status quo, no matter how objectively gakky it was. This act was against almost everything an Amalathian would stand for. It seemed over the decades Draven had been radicalised or lost his damn mind.

Or just a hypocrite, an Inquisitor who was a hypocrite? Impossible!?

Draven studied Attelus, his thin fingers stroking through his beard. 'If I ask you a question and I think you are not telling me the truth, well...You will have another death on your conscience; you slaughtered so many Sons of Dispater I doubt they will want me to employ them ever again. Not that it would matter.'

Attelus said nothing, just fixed Draven with a glare. Draven held his gaze, smirking behind his beard. 'So, you now agree to my deal?'

'Yes...'

'Of course you do,' said Draven. 'You might have all the combat skill and inhuman reflexes, but all of that means nothing, nothing when you face me. Especially when you are held back by naive sentiment like you, Throne Agent Kaltos.'

By the Emperor, this gak head sounded just like Attelus' father. 'Can you please just ask your question?'

Sudden rage glazed Draven's eyes, and he aimed his bolt pistol at another adept.

'Alright! Alright! I'm sorry. I won't talk back again. I understand; I'm a naive fool, just please don't kill anyone anymore.'

Draven sneered, and even behind his beard, it was one of the ugliest expressions Attelus had ever seen, but Draven still lowered his pistol. 'Absolutely pathetic, you truly are one of Enandra's lackeys. How did Inquisitor Devan Torathe die?'

The abrupt bluntness of the question caught Attelus off guard, but that was the point. The vision Faleaseen showed him of the literal blood-soaked bridge of Torathe's vessel, which Attelus had long ago forgotten the name of, and the dozens of corpses lying everywhere, Torathe among them. His glazed eyes stared at the ceiling, his throat rendered open.

'I...I don't know, in all honesty.'

Drevan's eye twitched, and he then his pistol at a guard.

'Wait. Wait, by the Emperor, just wait. I...I think his throat had been cut, but I wasn't there when he was killed. I have never been told who did it or how I swear.'

Drevan sneered and lowered his pistol. 'Half-truths do not work on me, boy.'

'I-I wasn't trying-'

'Just shut it! Now, you ask your question.'

Attelus' swallowed as it finally dawned on him how out of his depth he was; Inquisitor Draven could read him like Torris would read the average person. His earlier boast of: "'You might have all the combat skill and inhuman reflexes, but all of that means nothing, nothing when you face me" wasn't an idle one. But ironically, Attelus was telling the truth initially, as he didn't truly know how Torathe died. If he'd learned anything from working with Faleaseen over the years was that the future was a fluid thing no matter how skilled one was at far sight. This was shown in the vision Faleaseen had shown him just after Omnartus' destruction of a glimpse of blood-soaked war-torn Sarkeath. What she showed didn't even happen, and she claimed the person he spoke to in the vision changed each time she looked. Attelus had talked to Adelana in the vision, but sometimes it was Torris or even Arlathan Karkin who hadn't even come with them to Sarkeath. Torathe had died, but he might not have died by his throat being cut; it could've been hundreds or thousands of other ways. Attelus wouldn't know until either Arlathan or Inquisitor Enandra, or one of the others who had come upon that scene told him.

'H-how are you here on Iocanthos?'

Drevan shared a look with the psyker again and seemed to begin to answer, but his micro-bead beeped, and he took it.

He answered with an: 'Mhmm,' and an "Uh-huh," then a "Yes, understood." Before he switched off his link and looked back to Attelus, smirking almost from ear to ear. 'The Refectory has been secured by my men, and your people have surrendered. Although, I do have a few questions about certain members of your entourage.'

Attelus grimaced, hoping like hell he wasn't referring to Kalakor and rather how the Elbyran Contingent and Sovrithian soldiers were there.

Drevan studied Attelus for a few seconds before shaking his head. 'Now, back on the subject at hand. You wish to know how we are here? We had arrived in orbit of Scintilla a few days after you and your team had gone; we had found this via my acolyte's scoring over lead after lead. Eventually, we found that you, under an alias, had bought passage on The Calamandastron. The intended destination was not recorded, but my extremely skilled Navigator managed to calculate its intended destination. So, using our powerful warp drive, we managed to catch the Calamandastron. But actually, we overtook it and had to wait a day for its arrival at the Hredrin Star System. When captain Durpount and his ship emerged from warp space, we intercepted him, and we found no sign of you and your team on board. So, after some convincing, Durpount informed me that, despite the fact you originally were going to travel with him all the way to the Canopus but you had him take a detour to the Iocanthos system where you and your Guncutter left his ship, then went and disappeared. So we came here. I sent down agents to the surface in secret to try to locate you, but they found nothing. Nothing at all, so I guessed that you had left the system by taking a ride with another starship. One that has no official record of being here. But, yet, something in my gut said you would come back to Iocanthos, so I waited and lo and behold, you and your people just happen to walk up to the gates of Port Suffering waving your icon. So, now, here we are. Does that answer your question?'

Attelus stared up at Drevan with wide eyes, surprised the Inquisitor would give him such a candid answer, but eventually, he managed to nod and went to ask why he'd gone to so much trouble, but Drevan hushed him with a raised hand. 'That was my answer to your one question, Attelus Kaltos, I might be a ruthless bastard, but I keep to my word. You, I know, do not. Now it is my turn.'

A frown crossed Attelus' face; Drevan was probably telling him this because he would kill him; too bad Drevan didn't know he was a perpetual.

So far as Attelus knew, anyway.

'Why did Torathe die?'

Attelus' eyes fell to the floor, unable to handle the intensity in Drevan's watering eyes. 'He...he had fallen. Fallen into radicalism, not into dealing with daemons but the opposite way, he'd lost his sanity and became an extremist Libricar.'

Drevan's eyes narrowed.

'He had ordered the destruction of Omnartus. So you see, we had to take him down before he could do more damage.'

'I am not sure I believe you.'

'You seem like you know everything about me and know when I'm lying. Do I seem to like I'm lying now?'

Drevan smirked, and it was then Attelus realised his mistake. 'No, you do not seem to be lying, or at least you believe you are not lying. That is your question.'

Attelus glanced at the Primaris psyker who had been watching Attelus most of the time with his grey, dead eyes. Attelus had already forgotten his name and didn't care to try to remember it.

'Eyes on me, Attelus Kaltos,' snarled Draven. 'Hredrin, get to the Refectory and confirm or deny Attelus' story.'

Attelus looked back to Draven, he couldn't sense any psychic activity from the psyker, but perhaps he was trying to do something to Attelus' mind so subtle he couldn't feel it. Although Attelus doubted it, he wouldn't be able to pry any truth no matter how subtly, as Karmen Kons couldn't even read his surface thoughts unless Attelus allowed it. That and Primaris psykers weren't known for their subtlety, but there were always exceptions to the rule, and this powerful bastard was unlikely the only psyker working in Draven's Warband.

Draven seemed to tower over Attelus even more now, like one of the mile-high saint statues on Scintilla.

'Why?' said Draven. 'Why did my former master order the death of Omnartus?'

Attelus dropped his head into a sigh. 'That-that, Inquisitor, is one frigging long, long story. I'll try to give you the abridged version. He received an astropathic communication from an old ally of his, an Inquisitor Edracian, baring an image of Torathe's long-dead daughter and Interrogator at the time, Amanda Heartsa and saying something I still don't know. Whatever it was caused Torathe to lose his mind, take control of an entire Space Marine chapter, and then have Omnartus and all of its twenty billion innocent people to die...Burning.'

The Inquisitor grinned. 'And I can tell that you played a part in that...incident, a part you deeply, deeply regret. Traumatised by it, maybe.'

Fighting back the tears, Attelus nodded. 'Yes, I do. I truly do.'

Draven's grin twisted into something even more ugly than his earlier sneer. 'Oh, I am afraid your "Abridged" version is not enough. Not even close. You are going to tell me all of it and in that, relive your trauma, and I am going to enjoy every second of it. And do not worry about how long it will take; as you can see, I have complete control of the situation, so I have all the time in this God-Emperor forsaken galaxy.'

Attelus fought back a smile; excellent, yes, you keep on believing that.



Karmen had gathered everyone into the banquet room, including a dozen or so house staff, and everyone had left their weapons in the corridor outside before the mercs burst through the door and screamed at them to "get down!". Now everyone was all on their knees, hands on their heads as the twenty or so mercenaries watched on. Adelana frowned, trying to ignore the aching in her legs. Great, frigging great, she was on her way to escape this crap but was now being forced back into it.

Karmen knelt only a few metres away from Adelana, a psy jammer collar around her neck, and Adelana wondered if it was nearly strong enough to hold back her power, or at least she hoped so.

Even with her psychic power gone, Karmen still noticed Adelana looking at her as her large, strange eyes shot to Adelana. Adelana didn't avert her gaze and gave Karmen a small nod which the psyker returned.

Adelana looked away and back to the doors, imagining Attelus bursting in, his power sword flashing as it slaughtered the guards.

But of course, it didn't happen; from what Karmen said, he'd got himself captured...again. Went off alone to check an astropathic communique at the Counting House; how frigging typical he even had an inkling it was a trap. Although, to be fair to him, no one expected something on this scale.

Something else seemed off to her, in a good way, though. She knew Kalakor wasn't here, but someone else was...was.

Dellenger, Dellenger hadn't come with them into the dining room.

Adelana couldn't help but smile. If anyone could save them, it'd be him.



Kneeling in the rain on the roof of one of the jury-rigged shacks hidden beneath his cameleoline cloak, Dellenger watched through his scope the enemy guards patrolling the Refectories and, east of that, the Counting House. They were good, frigging good, but compared to him, they were green Velrosian troopers who were naturally talented and had the ambition to join the scout corps, but not the skill. In truth, he'd been secretly listening into the vox traffic the whole time and had caught the call from this Inquisitor Drevan ordering Karmen Kons to surrender; he'd managed to record most of it too. This had allowed Dellenger to make up his bed and slip just out a window and dodge the enemies closing on the compound.

Dellenger frowned; if he could slip in there and free Karmen and the others, they might be able to take out the guards without alerting the ship targeting the Refectories in orbit, but damn, that'd be a long shot. He didn't bother with switching the scope to low-light vision as the enemies were wearing syn skin, but he didn't need to; Dellenger could make out their shimmering silhouettes being beaten on by the rain; fifty of them patrolled around the walls and almost everywhere, even the roof. They were professional, to say the least, and weren't taking any chances, but they were employed by an Inquisitor, after all.

But did they want to die along with their enemies? That'd take one hell of a fanatical mindset; a Chaos Cultist would do it willingly, but.

Again, Dellenger had to remind himself these were Throne Agents, not "normal" warriors or even "normal" humans. But neither was he.

He looked over to the Counting House and found that the same way, crawling with frigging enemies. Dellenger then raised his attention to the sky and the camouflaged ship hovering over the Counting House. Dellenger could only thank his luck; he hadn't been detected by it, but he supposed he'd be just one heat signature among thousands, but if he approached...

A shiver coursed through Dellenger; it was a familiar feeling, a rush of adrenaline when his instinct screamed someone or something was approaching his back, even if he couldn't hear it, and it'd never been wrong once in his long life.

Dellenger spun, lasgun raised, and he found he faced a giant, almost indefinable figure only a metre away whose cloaking was far better than the enemies.

'I am impressed you managed to detect my presence,' said Kalakor.

Dellenger lowered his lasgun, however good it'd do against a Space Marine. It's been a long, long time since anyone had managed to sneak up on him so close. 'I didn't hear a frigging thing; it was just an instinct. By the Emperor, how do you manage such silence?'

Especially while walking over frigging iron roofing.

'I...cheat,' said Kalakor.

Dellenger raised an eyebrow. 'Okay...'

Kalakor looked at the sky, or at least Dellenger thought he did. 'You and I could storm the Refectory, but with that ship in orbit, it is too much of a risk.'

'Agreed.'

'I...have another plan, though. One I am not sure you would approve of, but we are engulfed in desperate times.'

Before Dellenger could reply, another instinct made him spin and watch the main entrance into the Counting House through his scope.

The doors were opening, and a thin, hunched man in a beige overcoat who was being escorted by ten grim-faced men in black armoured bodygloves and carrying hellguns emerged into view—Primaris psyker.

'I see it too,' said Kalakor. 'Psyker.'

Dellenger hunkered down behind the handrail and turned to Kalakor, who now had his invisibility off, which was interesting, as he knelt low.

'This just keeps getting shittier and shittier,' hissed Dellenger. 'What's your plan?'

Kalakor's red visors bore into Dellenger's face. 'We have not much time. I have a way to get to the enemy ship in orbit.'

'What? How?'

'The details of the how do not matter, but what you need to know is that enemy psyker might find me.'

'So it's psychic, then? No one said you were a psyker. That's how you "cheat," then?'

'Indeed, and not just that, but that psyker might read one of the other's minds and learn of your absence and of me.'

'So, what do we do?' said Dellenger, although he already had a good idea of what Kalakor was planning.

'You and I kill that psyker,' said the Space Marine as if it was the easiest endeavour in the 'verse.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Kalakor dropped a good two metres to the street; he didn't even need to roll to negate the fall. Dellenger watching on then they began running again. They both agreed that they weren't going to use their vox-links in case the network had been compromised. Kalakor had stopped using the cloaking technique for fear of it being detected by the psyker, but he was still a shadow amongst shadows, even to Dellenger's gaze.

Dellenger, his feet silent on the rooftops, unslung his lasgun and slid to sidle against a rockcrete chimney. He raised his scope to his eye and activated its low-light vision, turning the streets into a green-lit blurred, hazy world. About sixty metres away, the psyker walked surrounded by the black armoured soldiers; they had separated into two five-man fire teams, their lasguns sweeping around everywhere with disciplined consistency. Lasguns, and body armour, this differentiated them from the rest; it reminded Dellenger of Inquisitorial Stormtroopers. Dellenger didn't know why they wielded lasguns instead of hellguns; he supposed it was because a hellgun was much louder and gave off more heat which would be detrimental to a black-ops stealth mission like this. But Dellenger thanked his luck; the penetration power of a Hellgun was a far bigger danger to his Space Marine ally, most certainly. Also, it indicated they had no idea of the presence of an Adeptus Astartes.

Smiling to himself, Dellenger began to clip the scope on his lasgun. He was no sniper, his skill at shooting was above average at best, but that was in comparison to the elite snipers and marksmen and women of the Velrosian 1st regiment. Dellenger preferred to get up close and personal, with bayonet or hand to hand. That was the way of things in his youth, and for the vast majority of his entire life, it'd been hard, damn hard for him to adapt to the world of solid projectile and las weapons, even after all his years serving in the Imperial Guard. But sixty metres, with no wind, a scope and a lasgun which were pretty much the epitome of the "point and shoot" weapon, no need to raise the aim to adjust for gravity; he should manage it. He just hoped the crashing rain would mask the sound of his shot to the enemy.

The timing was where it was complicated; Dellenger had to take out the psyker just before Kalakor could descend on the guards, hopefully slaughtering them before they could send off a vox signal. This was much harder due to the vox network potentially being compromised.

Assuming that Dellenger's las shots can even hit the psyker, but maybe the distraction will allow Kalakor an opening.

Dellenger watched the side of the psyker's shaven skull, then looked further west; the turn southward toward the Refectories was coming up quick; Dellenger did some quick maths and figured the psyker would be out of his line of sight in about half a minute. Dellenger could reposition no problem and take the psyker out as he was headed towards the Refectories, but then they'd be within line of sight of the guards patrolling there.

Dellenger then swept his attention eastward, hoping to see Kalakor stalking them, but there was no sign of him.

Clenching his teeth, Dellenger looked back at the psyker, and his finger twitched on the lasgun's trigger. This type of battle was new to Dellenger; even as a scout trooper, it was rare to encounter psykers on any battlefield, both as an enemy and an ally. It was also rare that Dellenger would be forced into a situation outside of his field of specialisation. In scenarios like this, it'd be a sniper such as Kevril or Tulert on the roof, and it'd be Dellenger and/or his fellow scouts closing in on patrol to take them out in close combat. It was beginning to truly dawn on Dellenger how different this world was to fight as a soldier on an active front.

But as the ancient proverb said, "adapt or die," but by the Emperor, as he aged and aged, that was becoming harder to do. Kevril, Tulert, and the rest of the scouts were all dead now, their bodies buried in the blood sands back on Omnartus.

The Emperor? It'd taken him a long time to take that vernacular up. He refused to take up the "God-Emperor" version, though, and it seemed most of their new employers did the same. His long-dead master had believed devotedly in the God-Emperor, one of the reasons Dellenger had joined the Imperial Guard was because of him, but Dellenger had never believed much in any god, not even those of the long-dead Elbyran religions. His master had taught him in detail of the Chaos gods. Dellenger believed they were by any definition of the word "evil," and their overreliance on mankind's emotions and worship made them unworthy of being entitled "god" despite their power. But the God-Emperor, something about him had seemed off in Dellenger's book, or Adrassil's as he'd been know known back then, someone who would be arrogant enough to label themselves both "god" and "Emperor" as well as His conflicting theologies didn't deserve worship either, despite apparently being the more "benevolent" of them. Well, Dellenger now knew the Emperor was more benevolent after bearing witness to the endless evils and depravity the worshippers of Chaos were more than capable of even compared to the countless injustices and horrific actions done in the God-Emperor's name.

Including those done by the very institution, he was working for.

The Emperor and His Imperium were certainly the lesser of those two evils. But in this terrible, terrible galaxy, there were far too many evils to even begin to count.

Trying to calm his heart as it palpitated throughout him and shook away his wandering thoughts, The psyker was only a couple of seconds from turning out of sight. Dellenger turned his gaze once again eastward, searching for a sign from Kalakor or anything.

'Come on, come on,' growled Dellenger through clenched teeth.

He waited and waited and...

There it was, a large slight shadow emerging out from an alleyway, just behind the advancing enemies, the rain washing over it for a split second.

Dellenger didn't hesitate as he swung his aim, focused on the psyker's head again and exhaling as he'd been taught to do by Kevril years ago, he pulled the trigger.

And missed, the las shot passed through empty air a mere millimetre behind the back of the psyker's head. Cursing, Dellenger threw himself flat as the psyker's and the soldiers' attentions snapped his way, their weapons raising.

He frigging swore he'd been on target! Dellenger expected them to open fire, but the shots never came, so he peeked over the ledge.

Kalakor crouched over the corpses of the guards and the psyker and was in the midst of tearing his knife from the psyker's head. He then stood and raised the blade in salute.

Dellenger didn't dare return a salute; he just frowned and shook his head. The Space Marine didn't seem to need his help after all. Well, maybe to distract the psyker anyway. He slid his scope of his lasgun and, with it, looked back down on Kalakor.

And Kalakor was gone; the only evidence of his presence was the eleven corpses he left behind.

With a sigh, Dellenger retrieved his gun and began his way toward the Refectories. He had a very small window of time before the enemy realised their psyker was dead. He just hoped no one had heard the crack of his lasgun's discharge and that Kalakor actually had a way to get to that ship.

As Dellenger started on again, a thought occurred to him; maybe he didn't miss, maybe the psyker had a shield protecting him like the one Karmen had used during the main battle back on Sarkeath, but smaller. It made sense, even if he was likely telling himself that just to feel better.



Drevan was silent for a good, long while absorbing Attelus's story, that or trying to find some inconsistency in the story. Despite ensuring there were no inconsistencies, Attelus left out a lot, such as the extent of his injuries at the axes of the Arcoflagellant, so having to be rebuilt by Faleaseen, which allowed him to leave her out of it entirely, among many other things. Attelus had tried to keep a lot as vague as possible. Attelus had to roll back a few times when he mentioned something that happened that he'd forgotten to give context to earlier; he hoped that'd give his story more legitimacy in the Inquisitor's dead eyes.

'That was...a strange tale,' said Drevan as he stroked his beard.

'Strange? Strange! Now that's the understatement of the millennia,' Attelus couldn't help but blurt out.

Anger flashed across Drevan's face. 'I told you not to talk back to me, but...I will give you the benefit of the doubt after re-living that. Even if I think you have omitted some details.'

Attelus shrugged.

'So, you think it is this Inquisitor Etuarq behind everything? That he has been manipulating fate itself to his own ends?'

'I know he has, and he's still out there, and you're preventing us from continuing our work in taking that bastard down.'

'Right,' said Drevan, smirking that damned smirk. 'And it was you that took the pict that led to the Exterminatus?'

Attelus clenched his jaw. 'Y-yes...I...I thought-'

'You thought you were going to get a question after mine? You broke our agreement by talking back to me before, and I didn't kill anyone, so you lost that privilege.'

Attelus' lowered his gaze to the floor and sighed, you did that on purpose, didn't you, you frigging bastard. Yet again, Drevan had outsmarted him; it showed Attelus still had much left to learn.

'So, what now?' said Attelus.

'If this Etuarq is bending fate itself to his will, how do you think you can defeat him?'

'In all honesty, because we had to try, and there might be strands of fate he can't see.'

'Wishful thinking.'

Attelus grimaced; he wanted to point out if he was a true believer in the God-Emperor in any way, he was a huge hypocrite, as "faith" was such an amazing virtue in their narrow gazes. Anyway, after his father's failure on Sarkeath, it'd been proven true.

That thought made Attelus smile.

'What in the God-Emperor's name are you smiling about?'

'Nothing, Inquisitor. It's nothing, just at my father's idiocy.'

'Your father's idiocy? I would say he could not be one if he managed to become one of the greatest assassins in the Calixis Sector.'

Attelus managed a shrug; had he just managed to fool Drevan? Perhaps he was learning something from this gak-head already?

'So, Jelcine hired all of you after Omnartus' death? Even the rogue mercenary psyker, Karmen Kons.'

'She did,' said Attelus; for some reason, Draven's use of Enandra's first name got to him.

'Hmm,' said Drevan. 'That could be a good excuse for me to go after her, that and the secretive nature behind how Torathe died.'

Attelus sighed again. 'You are aware that Torathe's death was later endorsed not just by Lord-Inquisitor Caidin but all the Ordos seniors? That it was the Grey Knights who wiped out the Space Marine chapter who'd participated in the Exterminatus.'

Drevan sniffed dismissively, then spun and shot an Adept through the face, destroying his skill in a puff of red and screams erupted through the room.

Attelus couldn't help flinching.

The Inquisitor rounded on him and leaned so close to Attelus' face they were almost nose to nose.

'What did I tell you!' Drevan roared, and spittle crashed on Attelus' face.

'I-'

'What did I frigging tell you?'

'N-not to talk back.'

'And what did you just do? What did you just do? First, I let by the fact you neglected to tell me a few bits of information in your re-telling of The Omnartus Incident. Then I let you talk back to me, but then you went and talked back to me again! Don't make me do this, Attelus Kaltos. Do not make me kill again.'

Attelus swallowed, unsure if he was meant to answer and wishing like hell, he could wipe away Draven's spit. By the Emperor, he was a psychopath, and this was the typical manipulation tactics used by abusers to get their quarry to cooperate. "Don't make me do this", even though it's Drevan murdering people on his own volition.

But, damn it, it seemed to be working.

'You do not want me to kill more innocent people, do you? More Imperial Citizens? Like the twenty billion already on your conscience?'

Attelus began to shake, and welling tears clouded his vision; he could no longer hold Drevan's gaze.

'N-no.'

'Repeat that, you little gak, I cannot hear you.'

'N-no!'

Drevan grinned and finally stood away. 'That is a good boy. That is good, so now we have reached an understanding between us. Now I ask you...'

Attelus bit his lip, dreading the Inquisitor's next words but was caught off guard yet again when Drevan said instead, 'that you tell me the parameters of the mission you have just finished.'



His cameleoline cloak still covering him, and lasgun raised Dellenger jogged up to the bodies of the slaughtered guards and the psyker.

Much to his surprise, it wasn't quite as messy as he expected; even though it seemed Kalakor had used his bare hands for all the kills besides the psyker, they were quite clean. The precision was impressive. Dellenger glanced at the psyker; it seemed Kalakor had killed him first by throwing his knife through the side of his skull, then not having time to withdraw it, restored to hands on the rest. Dellenger looked over the bodies again, all the guards were big brutes to a man, bigger than him certainly but even still, the now ancient memory of his time working with Royd and the Velrosian rebel underground flashed through his mind how they would sometimes steal the uniforms of occupying Marangerian soldiers and wear them to infiltrate enemy compounds and such.

It didn't work when you tried it on a fortress with a long-serving garrison as they knew each other well, but when they didn't know...

Which seemed to be the case with their enemies, or at least that was what Dellenger's instincts told him, and he was rarely wrong.

Dellenger grabbed one of the more intact bodies and began to drag it into the nearest alleyway. He frowned; from what he could remember, the las bolt hadn't moved off-target; he'd just missed. Must've miss calculated the shot and fired too close.

With a grimace, Dellenger slipped off his cameleoline cloak; he hadn't much time. But if he managed to get in disguise, what will he do in the Emperor's name then?

An idea then hit him, an inspiration so strong he almost physically reeled. Dellenger smiled, damn glad he managed to record most of Inquisitor Drevan's earlier call to Karmen Kons.

Damn glad indeed.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus' mind reeled, his brain thumping in his skull, and his whole body hurt in sympathy. How would he explain how the hell they got to the Gothic Sector and back in only four weeks? Was Drevan puritanical against cooperation with the Eldar? He closed his eyes, trying to take control of his anxiety.

Faleaseen! Please help me!

But there was no reply; where was she? Attelus understood her absence on Sarkeath due to the warp storm, but why here? Why now? She could use her power through him, allowing him to escape. But she did say a while back that she didn't want to help him too often so he wouldn't become reliant on her; Attelus understood that he agreed entirely but now wasn't the time for that sentiment!

Farseer Faleaseen, frigging, say something! I need your help.

Still nothing.

Looming over him, Drevan smirked, his arms folded. 'Attelus Xanthis Kaltos,' he barked, making Attelus blanch. 'I said that I had all the time in the galaxy, but that was an exaggeration, so tell me. Or do I have to kill another person?'

'I...I-'

Again, Drevan thrust his face in Attelus'. 'You are weak. You are pathetic. All I have done is kill a few nameless, faceless peons, and you have already told me a lot, and you are already close to a mental breakdown. A true Agent of the Throne would have let every single fool in this room die before telling me even an ounce of what he knew. Because that is the God-Emperor's true currency, is it not? Lives.'

Drevan's eyes lit. 'And I have yet to even begin spending the lives of your subordinates.'

Rage began to rumble and course through Attelus, and he struggled in his bindings, growling like a cornered canine. He should've just let himself die or even turned his blade on himself instead of being captured like an idiot, Faleaseen would've revived him, and Drevan wouldn't be able to manipulate him like this! But Drevan was right, frig it. Attelus had given in too easily.

Drevan laughed.

'Do not tell this son of a bitch anything more, Kaltos!' yelled Kolmoroff causing all attention to turn to her, and even with her augmetic eyes, Attelus could see the rage in her face. 'Even it is just to spite him. I do not care what other horrific secrets you keep; this man is a coward and a monster who does not deserve to know more. Do not feel guilt for any of the murders at his hand; he is the one pulling the trigger, not you.'

Ugly rage took over Drevan, and he rounded on the Adept, aiming his bolt pistol at her head. 'What did you just say, you old bitch?'

'You said that lives are the God-Emperor's currency,' said Kolmoroff. 'And you are correct, and I am ready and willing as a loyal servant of the Golden Throne to spend my life rather than be used as a hostage for you to use to extract anything more from this young man!'

Attelus gaped, his respect and admiration growing for her all the more by the Emperor; this old woman had some ovaries.

But Drevan just laughed, which made Attelus flinch and hiss through his teeth. 'Foolish old woman, brave, but foolish all the same. Do you seriously think that I only have the threat of death in my arsenal? Bring Adept Cianna Kolmoroff forwards.'

Two Sons pulled Kolmoroff to her feet and manhandled her toward Drevan.

'It is too bad you have augmetics for eyes...' said Drevan.

'Please, don't,' Attelus hissed.

'Shut it, boy! Remember, always remember, what is to come is your fault, no matter what this foolish old bitch claims. I do not enjoy resorting to such methods, but the end justifies the means.'

Even though it was fruitless, Kolmoroff struggled in the grasp of the two mercs, but it wasn't out of fear.

Drevan pulled a knife from his pocket, and the blade extended from the hilt with an ominous "click." Attelus knew a skinning knife when he saw one.

Kolmoroff was dropped on her knees in front of Draven, but her gaze was still fixed on Attelus. 'Do not tell this bastard anything more, Kaltos. Do-'

The adept was interrupted by Draven backhanding her across the face, and she smashed to the floor.

'Do shut it; I would bound your mouth shut, but the screams will-'

Drevan stopped short in his sentence as he reached to his micro-bead. 'Why are you calling me now?' he yelled.

Then the Inquisitor straightened and looked back at Attelus, his eyes wide and glazed with rage. 'What in the God-Emperor's name do you mean "they're dead"? All but one of the Stormtroopers and Hredrin? How? How in the God-Emperor's name did this happen?'

Drevan paused as whoever was on the other end of the link said something. 'What do you mean you don't know? Just...get men out there and find the killer, now!'

He switched off his micro-bead and rounded on Attelus, pushing the barrel of his bolt pistol against Attelus' skull. The Inquisitor's face was an almost comical enraged rictus.

'I knew you were keeping something from me!' Draven shrieked.

Attelus couldn't help but grin; not so smug now, are we? 'In all honesty, Draven, I've been keeping a crap ton of somethings from you. That's the advantage of having so very many secrets you can hide one important one among them all so well, not even someone such as you can find it.'

Somehow, Draven's face scrunched up even worse, so much so that his beard seemed to contour inside the lines. Then he hooked his gun arm around Kolmoroff's throat and held the skinning knife to her face. 'You are going to tell me who is out there now, or I will begin cutting into her, nice and slow.'

'Oh, I'll tell you,' said Attelus. 'But I guarantee you won't like it.'

'I will be the judge of that!' snarled Draven.

'Well, okay then. His name is Kalakor, and he's a Space Marine.'



The look on Draven's face was almost worth compromising Kalakor. Still, if Kalakor had finally chosen to act, Attelus suspected that whatever the Marine's plan was, it was already well underway, and there was nothing Draven or any of his men could do to stop it.

Adelana frowned, trying to understand why their guards suddenly became so irritated by what seemed like a broadcast on their general channel. Then about half of them jogged out of the room. It had to be Kalakor and/or Dellenger were up to something; she could only hope it'd be successful. Biting her lip, Adelana stole another glance at Karmen; the psyker had closed her eyes, her lips moving slightly, wordlessly. Attelus had taught her to read lips, and it didn't take Adelana long to realise Karmen was whispering the Emperor's Prayer. She couldn't blame her, and maybe just maybe, the Emperor would come and help them. Although Adelana doubted it, she wasn't sure the Emperor would be too impressed with how and why they fought in His name.

According to the Ecclesiarchy, anyway.

The doors opened, and in limped a man wearing an armoured segmented bodyglove which was torn and bloody. A gas mask covered his face, and he carried a lasgun; both marked him different from the others. To Adelana's eyes, the bodyglove seemed a bit too large on him.

The soldier's gaze swept across the room's entirety for a few seconds before he started limping rightwards and around the edge of the room. Adelana couldn't help watching him. None of the other guards around seemed to take exception to their new addition.

Then the soldier did something which caught her off guard; the newcomer gave her the slightest of slight nods.

Adelana looked away; it was Dellenger! It had to be, but what the frig was he up to?

She had no idea; Adelana had seen and heard how amazing a warrior he was, but that skill might not be enough now.



'A Space Marine?' Draven roared.

'A Space Marine. He's my...friend.'

Draven's eyebrows raised so high they seemed to reach the top of his forehead. 'Your friend? Your...friend! One cannot be "friends" with an Adeptus Astartes!'

Attelus shrugged. 'I beg to differ.'

'You should be begging for your life.'

Attelus didn't reply.

'Or for everyone inside the Refectories to be more accurate,' said Draven, then he reached for his micro-bead and began tuning it.

'N-no! Don't, please! I told you about Kalakor.'

'This is the consequence of your actions, boy,' said Draven. 'You have opposed me, smart-mouthed me and undermined me and now your...Space Marine is fighting against me!'

'I-I had nothing to do with this; he's doing this on his own volition, I swear.'

'Oh, I am sure he is; the Adeptus Astartes are notoriously impossible to control, even for us in the Holy Ordos. But he is still with you, and you must take responsibility for him and besides...'

Draven smirked. 'You should have told me of him in the first place. You keeping him a secret amongst your secrets just shows me that you wanted him to act against me, so yes, you take responsibility indirectly. Just like Omnartus, and it is the same for all of your friends and allies very soon.'

Attelus tried to launch at Draven, but the Sons surrounding him shoved him back to his knees.

'No! No!' Attelus cried; he was shaking again, tears swirling in his vision.

Grinning, Draven activated his micro-bead, but then the grin slipped off his face. 'What?' he growled.

Draven's gaze snapped around, his eyes wide. 'I cannot get in contact with my ship.'

Attelus' anxiety drained away, and he dropped his head in a long sigh. The anxiety and fear were quickly replaced by a bubbling need to laugh in his chest, but he wisely managed to fight it down. Now was the worst time to laugh.

'What did you do?' snapped Draven, making Attelus look back at him. 'What The hell did you?'

'I've done nothing, Inquisitor.'

'No, it is that damned Space Marine, is it not?'

'I...yes, I guess,' said Attelus. He wanted so much to mock Draven, to say sarcastically how much of a "genius" he was, that he managed to figure that out.

'He must have hacked into the network,' said Draven, then he reached to his vox-link and began to tune it seeming to forget Kolmoroff entirely. 'It is...'

Draven's face paled, and then he threw Kolmoroff to the floor so hard she seemed to bounce, and a crack of breaking bones pierced into the ears. Kolmoroff began to moan and cry.

'Shut it,' Draven snapped and turned on Attelus, aiming his pistol at him. 'How in the hell did the Space Marine get up to my ship? Did you have a ship hidden somewhere?'

'No,' said Attelus thinking there was no point in trying to lie.

'How did you get on Iocanthos, then? My ship did not detect any other starships entering and leaving the system. No warp signature. Nothing!'

Attelus said nothing, his eyes fixed on Draven. You're Ordo Xenos, don't you know about the webway? In all honesty, there were all kinds of Xenos throughout the galaxy. Eldar was among the most well-known, and it likely took a true Eldar specialist to know of the webway, perhaps even an Inquisitor like Attelus who'd co-operated with them to learn of it. Attelus had read over the archives on The Audacious Edge to see if there was anything on the webway, but he couldn't find anything. But Enandra was Ordo Hereticus, and yet it seemed she might've.

Draven's face twitched, and then he laughed. 'How do you have soldiers from the Elbyran Contingent with you? My research says they were in the Gothic Sector; how did you travel there and back so fast? How?'

'I know you have a lot of questions,' said Attelus. 'And we can answer them, but you already know the stakes of our mission; more important Imperial worlds might...will die. Co-operate with us, help us stop Etuarq, and I will tell you everything you need to know. You have already murdered innocent Imperial citizens, but-'

'Murdered? Murdered! Do you understand!' I am an Inquisitor of the Holy Ordos. I am beyond the concept of "murder" everyone, and everything I place judgement upon is justified, for it is in the service of the God-Emperor of Mankind, you understand?

Attelus nodded and glanced at Kolmoroff as she writhed on the floor, somehow in silence; how she managed that, Attelus had no idea, but his admiration for the adept grew even more. Drevan was losing it. Or he'd lost it long ago, and the pressure was making his mask slip.

'Tell me! What is going? On!' Drevan shrieked, and he pointed his gun at Kolmoroff.

'No.' Attelus blinked as he realised he'd said it a split-second after.

'What do you mean, "no"?'

'It means no, Drevan. Get your men to stand down and surrender, and I might tell you.'

'I will skin this old bitch's face if you-'

'If you skin her face-off, I won't tell you a frigging thing more! And I will make damned sure that you and every single person associated with you will be declared Excommunicate Tratoris! And I swear to the Emperor of Mankind I will hunt you down, and I won't just skin off your face but every inch, slowly, starting from your toes to your skull.'

'N-Not if I kill you and everyone associated with you!'

Attelus grinned. 'Again, you seem to know when I'm lying, so you can see I'm telling the truth, and nothing but the truth when I say to you killing me won't matter; it'll happen. It will happen.'

Draven grimaced. 'You are insane.'

'Hmm, perhaps, most certainly, but I'm telling the truth, aren't I?'

Draven's pointing enlarged Adam's Apple twitched.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

The mercenary leader and two of his guards led Dellenger to the head servant's office. It was about as small and dingy as Dellenger expected, about two metres in length and 1.5 in width.

One of the guards closed the door behind them, and the leader turned to Dellenger.

'What in the Emperor's...frigging name that was so important the Inquisitor couldn't just have mentioned over a secured vox network?'

Dellenger drew his laspistol and aimed it at the leader's skull. 'This.'

He stepped back to gain enough room to cover the leader and his guards, and they raised their hands.

'What the hell are you doing?' snarled the leader.

'I just wish to talk,' said Dellenger.

'Talk? Talk! With you waving a laspistol in my face.'

'Yes.'

The leader exchanged glances with his guards. 'G-go ahead then? He said.

Dellenger raised the recorder and replayed the vox exchange between Karmen Kons and Inquisitor Draven.

'W-what do you think playing that will do?' said the leader. 'Make us turn against our employer?'

'I hoped it would.'

'You understand we are the Sons of Dispater, we never betray a contract, and if we do, we will be hunted down and killed.'

'So, people in your organisation have reneged on a contract?'

'...Yes.'

'What if you renege with all of your people and do so for an incredibly powerful Inquisitor's backing?'

'We already have-'

'You are aware that we work for an Inquisitor?'

'No.'

'So, Inquisitor Draven didn't bother to inform you of this and that he was willing to bomb a building with you and all of your men inside if we refuse to cooperate?'

'If we try to betray him...'

'Not if he has a gun to his head,' said Dellenger as he twitched his pistol pointedly.

The mercs exchanged glances again.

'And we have a way to negate that potential bombardment. Or, to be more accurate, we have a way to stop that potential, which is happening as we speak.'

'The hell does that mean?' said the leader.

'It means what I just said,' said Dellenger. 'What else could I have meant?'

The Sons of Dispater leader raised an eyebrow.



'Fine,' said Draven as he finally stopped pacing and turned to Attelus. 'Why if you refuse to tell me, I can just get one of your foolish people to talk instead.'

Attelus' eyes widened. 'They...don't know as much as me.'

'Oh, I'm sure they don't, but they will know enough; the psyker Karmen Kons seems to know much. Should I ask her first? I have interesting ways to make psykers talk; you should know this being supposedly a part of the Ordo Hereticus, and hmm.'

'Hmm?'

'I found it...strange how quickly and easily she gave up when I told her I had you as a hostage too. Just how much does she know?'

Attelus frowned, and his eyes fell to the floor.

'I have a loophole to your threat,' said Draven as he leaned forward so they were almost nose to nose again. 'You said nothing about me being unable to skin your face, or alternatively, skinning you from the toes and up to your skull, bit by bit and making her watch. In fact, I might get all of your people to watch. That will be fun.'

Draven grabbed Attelus by the hair, revealing his scar; once I am done with you, this scar will be the least of your problems to your oh-so-pretty face. Get him up! We are going to the Refectories.'

Two pairs of hands hauled Attelus to his feet.

'Do not think you can outsmart me,' said Draven. 'And now I am finished with these Administratum drones...'

'N-no!'

The Sons raised their autoguns, aiming at the heads of the kneeling Adepts, who cried out in shaking fear.

'Think on the bright side, Attelus Kaltos,' said Draven. 'Their deaths are going to be quick and painless, and, well, your death is not going to happen. But your life is going to end; it is going to become nothing but a world of never-ending agony.'

Draven's eyes lost focus, and he reached to his micro-bead.

'Who-? What-?' Draven's gaze snapped to Attelus, and his jaw dropped. 'You cannot possibly have done this!'

There was a pause; Draven's face twitched, and his jaw clenched. 'I have this little gak in my custody; you would not dare bombard the Counting House!'

Attelus grinned.

'Get that frigging smile off your face!' Draven shrieked, his eyes wide. 'How dare you! I do not care if you are a Space Marine; I am an Inquisitor of the Holy Ordos, and you will stand down, in the God-Emperor's name!'

'What do you mean "The Emperor is not a god?" That is heresy of the highest order; you will burn for this! Burn!'

Draven rolled his eyes, and then the surrounding Sons of Dispater all seemed to reach for their own micro-beads almost at the same time.

'Order everyone to stand down?' said Draven. 'Surrender? Surrender? Screw you!'

The Sons began to glance at Draven up and down, back and forth, which interested Attelus. They all wore re-breathers, so Attelus couldn't tell what they were saying, but their body language indicated confusion, anger and argumentation.

Meanwhile, Draven kept ranting and raving into his own micro-bead, with who must've been Kalakor, and he didn't notice the guns begin to aim at him, one after the other. Attelus glanced about as more and more mercs slowly were doing the same.

Finally, Draven seemed to realise what was happening. 'What-'

'Excuse me, Inquisitor,' said one of the assassins. Emperor only knew which one. 'But please drop your gun, surrender and have your forces stand down.'

Draven's jaw dropped, and Attelus felt his binders begin being loosened from his ankles and wrists. The Inquisitor looked across every inch of the room as if trying to find something, anything to get get out of this, but he found nothing.

The binders came free, and another guard approached Attelus then handed him his gun and sheathed power sword.

'Surrender, Inquisitor,' said a Son. 'Or we will open fire.'

'But-but you are The Sons of Dispater!' cried Draven. 'I thought you never betrayed a contract.'

'Yes, but this is under orders of Master Hadrel himself, and you were going to bomb the Refectory from orbit if this little fool acted out, with half of our people along with it.'

'Yes, I was! But...Emperor, damn it! Damn frigging mercenaries.'

'Drop the bolt pistol and get on your knees, sir.'

Draven snarled, breathed out once, twice, then raised his bolt pistol for his own skull.

Before anyone else could react, Attelus activated his sword and sliced through Draven's forearm.

Draven shrieked in agony and fell back, holding at his stump.

'No,' said Attelus. 'No, easy way out for you, you psychopathic bastard.'

But by then, Draven had already fallen into unconsciousness.

Two Sons of Dispater brought in a stretcher for Kolmoroff as Attelus approached her.

'Are-are you okay, mamzel Kolmoroff?' he said as he knelt beside her.

'Of course, I'm not okay, you little fool. I think I broke my hip,' she said through clenched teeth. 'It hurts like frigging hell.'

'I-I'm sorry, if it wasn't for my people and me coming here, this would've never happened.'

'Oh, just shut up; there is nothing to apologise for, we are servants of the Imperium of Man, and this is a part of the service. You should be apologising for not getting the balls to not tell that bastard anything earlier.'

'I-I'm...sorry?

'That's much better, boy.'

The Sons placed the stretcher on the floor and carefully lifted her onto it, but even still, she cried out in pain.

'I also learned what you are fighting against,' said Kolmoroff as she grabbed his sleeve. 'What that bastard Etuarq did to you and that world, by the Emperor, I would have liked to join you to bring him down, but I'm too old, too weak and set in my ways. So you frigging swear, you swear to me you won't give up, and you won't baulk again if a gak-head like that bastard holds me or anyone hostage like that again!'

Attelus' heart began to bash. 'I...'

'You frigging swear, or I won't get my hip fixed.'

Attelus sighed, wanting to point out the obvious irony but held his tongue. 'Okay, fine. I swear.'

Kolmoroff studied him for a good few seconds before finally nodding and letting go of his sleeve. 'Alright, that'll do, young man. That'll do. But if you don't keep that promise, I will haunt the gak out of you after I die. You understand?'

'Understood.'

Then the mercs lifted Kolmoroff and took her out of the chamber; Attelus watched them leave.

'Sir?' said one of the mercs making Attelus flinch.

'What?'

'Is what you said true? Some people I work with are from there; they said it was an asteroid or something.'

'About the destruction of Omnartus?'

'I left a lot out, as Draven saw, but yes.'

The merc straightened and exchanged looks with his surrounding comrades.

Attelus' vox beeped, and he accepted the call.

'Attelus!' Karmen cried. 'Thank the God-Emperor; you're okay.'

'I'm fine, but that psychopath. Draven murdered several people over here. Is everything okay over there?'

'Yes, none of us are hurt; Dellenger saved us. He heard my conversation with Draven over the link and, recorded it, and slipped out before the Sons closed in on the Refectories used it to get the Sons to change sides. Thank the God-Emperor.'

'You should really be thanking Dellenger, Karmen,' said Attelus. 'If it wasn't obvious already, this more than proves he's more than worthy of becoming a Throne Agent. Anyway, it also helped Kalakor manage to infiltrate their ship and seems to have taken the bridge.'

There was a pause.

'I shouldn't be surprised; he is a Space Marine.'

'Well, even that's an impressive achievement for an Adeptus Astartes. Anyway, I'll head on over there now.'

'Good, see you soon.'

Attelus cut the link and headed for the door, but one of the mercs grabbed him by the shoulder, and Attelus instinctively tore it free.

'What!' Attelus snarled.

'There's, uhh, one problem, sir.'

'Uhh, what's wrong? I...I'm sorry I killed so many of your people.'

'It's...not that, but thanks. No, the Inquisitor still has a stealth void-ship hanging over this building it's piloted by his men.'

Attelus rolled his eyes and sighed again. 'Of course it is.'

He looked down at the unconscious Draven, whose stump was being bandaged over by another Son of Dispater. Then Attelus drew his autopistol and racked the slide. 'Get me a link to that void-ship, then, and let's just hope they care whether their boss lives or dies because I sure as hell wouldn't.'

'But, sir,' said another Son. 'If they didn't care if the Inquisitor lived or died, wouldn't they more likely cooperate with you?'

Attelus frowned and fixed the mercenary a glare which caused him to flinch and raise his hands.

Then Attelus' micro-bead beeped again. 'Kalakor?'

'It is I,' even through a tinny vox connection, the Space Marine's inhumanly deep voice reverberated through him. 'As you may have assumed, I have taken the bridge of the Inquisitor's flagship, The Xenocide.'

Attelus smiled; such a subtle title, just like its master. 'And how the frig did you manage that?'

'I am a former Alpha Legionnaire and Raven Guard Marine and had worked alone for centuries; this type of warfare is my speciality. After...incapacitating their astropath and cutting off their external vox, I made the workers within the ship rise up in rebellion. It took the enemy by surprise as I led them against their brutal overseers. It did not take long for them to overwhelm the remaining Inquisitorial Stormtroopers and then take over the bridge. I am an Angel of Death in their eyes, you see.'

'I...see,' said Attelus, swallowing, Kalakor it seemed was even more dangerous than he could've imagined. 'You uhh didn't kill their astropath, right?'

'Of course not, I distinctly said, "incapacitate" I know how important an astropath is for our mission. But for all intents and purposes, now the ship is ours.'

Attelus couldn't believe it; they went from having no ship, nothing to, well, this.

'Excellent, yes, frigging good job, Kalakor. The Sons of Dispater mercenaries under Draven's employ have joined our side, and the Inquisitor has been incapacitated and captured.'

'Good, good work to you as well,' said Kalakor. 'You have a void-ship above the Counting House. Do you wish for me to have it shot down?'

'N-no, we can take care of it,' said Attelus. 'Thanks for the offer, Kalakor. Talk later.'

And he cut the link.

Attelus sighed yet again by the Emperor; this was one hell of a day.

One hell of a day.



Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra sat at her desk, reclining in her beautiful leather back chair while reading over the latest reports from her acolyte cells all across the Calixis Sector. She would've usually had her Interrogator Arlathan Karkin do it, but he was down on Scintilla leading a cell investigating Chaos corruption in one of the Magistratum precincts. According to his last vox communication, it had proven true almost all of the enforcers and detectives had fallen, and they, Arlathan and his men were in the midst of taking them down. She'd left Arlathan on it as he was a former Magistratum head detective, and, well, it seemed he didn't need her guidance much anymore. He'd come a damned long way from being a sleazy, corrupt, cowardly bastard who fainted at the sight of admittedly utterly terrifying daemonic creatures just three years ago.

He was almost on the verge of earning his Rosette; Enandra just hoped that he would continue her undermining of the Ecclesiarchy because she'd been so busy that she hadn't done much about it yet.

She sighed, rubbed her eyes and spun in her seat to gaze out her window to face the smog-covered Scintilla amongst the stars below. By the Emperor, she hated that world; it might have been the capital of the Sector. Still, to her, it seemed just another gakky, pollution-engulfed hive world where billions of poor, pointless humans toil endlessly for generation after generation. She'd grown up on a feudal world Sepheris Secundus, and while it wasn't as technologically advanced, it was the same thing, the peasants toiling non-stop under a cruel, greedy king and his lords. She would have shared the fate of those peasants if it wasn't for her master taking her in as a teenager, somehow seeing her potential before she could even begin to. Enandra wasn't just of the Seculous Attendous philosophy but a Recongregator too and had six acolyte cells on Sepheris Secundus fighting to try and change the world.

Fighting pointlessly as the damn Amalathian cells were always fighting against any change. There was no end to their advantage as they had the backing of the nobles, and Enandra was hands-off with those cells; she didn't want the Ordos Calixis finding out she was a Recongregator; they were already suspecting her of being a member of the Seculous Attendous.

Recongregators, the blighted fools. She wasn't like other Recongregators; she didn't want sudden sweeping change across the Imperium that would be destructive and foolish, and she knew how important it was to keep the cogs always moving. But she couldn't let the rampant injustice and horrible treatment of Imperial citizens the galaxy over to continue. She had to do something, and damn it; she was an Inquisitor; she had the capabilities to do something about it.

Her radical tendencies had caused the rift between her and her master, the now-dead Inquisitor Devan Torathe. When she'd been made a full Inquisitor a full century ago now, she'd once believed his Amalathian rhetoric, but that changed when-

Enandra's chain of thought came to an abrupt halt when her vox-link chimed. She checked the identification code; it was her astropath, Corin Veril.

'Veril,' she said. 'How can I help you? Or are you calling me to help me escape this bureaucratic monotony?'

'I believe that is a redundancy, mamzel.'

Enandra grinned as she stood, swaggered over to her side table and began pouring herself a priceless drink of Sacra into one of her shining crystal glasses. 'I suppose it is. So, as the children say during these times, "what is up"?'

Veril cleared his throat. 'I have just translated a new communication and, it is, it is...interesting.'

She took a sip of her Sacra and stretched her long limbs to try to get rid of the tingling running from her feet to her knees. She'd been sitting for hours now. 'Interesting, how?'

'First, it is from the Iocanthos system.'

That made Enandra pause. 'Iocanthos, I do not have a cell or any investment there, not yet anyway. Enough building up the intrigue, Veril, as Attelus Kaltos says, would you just "cut to the chase", please.'

Veril was silent for a good few seconds. 'It is...fortuitous that you mention young Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, as I have verified that it is from him.'

Enandra was so surprised she almost dropped her drink and spat her precious Sacra in a spray across the Adamantium wall, so she forced herself to swallow it all. Causing her to fall into a coughing fit.

'Mamzel! Mamzel? Are you alright? Shall I fetch you a medicae?'

It took Enandra a good half a minute to gain control of herself again. 'I'm fine, it's fine. Emperor damn, did they inform you how?'

'They neglected to inform me of that important detail, mamzel; it was...brief. But they did claim they are calculated to arrive in the Scintilla system in only a week's time.'

'How are they able to travel from Iocanthos in a week?'

'I do not know, but it is a more pertinent question to ask is how they managed to travel to and from the Gothic Sector in just over four weeks' time.'

Enandra frowned; she had a good idea how she'd expected Attelus and the others to travel to and from The Gothic Sector fast, but not this fast. 'Indeed, assuming they actually went to Sarkeath. Did he say if their mission was a success?'

'He did, but no details. I do not understand this, mamzel.'

Enandra clenched her jaw and sipped her Sacra. She wanted to tell him whether he understood or not didn't matter, but she stopped herself. 'Hopefully, we'll understand in a few weeks' time.'

'Hopefully indeed, mamzel.'

'Is that everything, Veril?'

'Indeed so, mamzel. Shall I reply?'

'Yes, inform them we are still at Scintilla and will meet them on the system's outskirts when they arrive.'

'Understood, mamzel.'

Enandra switched off the call and looked out her window again. So, it was confirmed, Attelus was cooperating with the Eldar, even using the webway, and he, and by extension Adelana, have been keeping it a secret behind her back for the past three years. Anger shivered through her, and she closed her free hand into a fist. Did this occur during the Omnartus Incident? And if so, how didn't Selva find the memories of this when she delved into his mind?

That last one was easy to answer; a Farseer had placed some kind of subtle mind block on him that somehow managed to allow his thoughts and memories to be read, but only those he allowed, and most psykers would be none the wiser for it. Enandra wouldn't put it past one of the incredibly powerful Farseers of the Eldar to be capable of such a feat.

Attelus Kaltos had proven an...extensively capable agent, his Adeptus Mechanicus enhancement allowing him incredible, inhuman speed, agility and strength. But he also had a sharp mind, and despite his belief of him "sucking at being a leader", he had the potential to be an incredible one. He got on her nerves, though he seemed to get on everyone's nerves from time to time. His penchant for annoying self-loathing, over-sentimentality, over-confidence, hypocrisy, smugness and the tendency to get overly lost in his thoughts and overthink things and his "eccentricities" were only a few of his flaws that tended to rub people the wrong way. But for all his flaws and traumas, Attelus had a strange charisma about him which seemed to inspire others to not just work with him but inspire them to be better people, a fact the young man, despite all his self-awareness, seemed utterly unaware of. Again, the quintessential example was Arlathan Karkin, who confessed to Enandra during an intimate moment that Attelus' fight to overcome the horrid odds and victory against the daemons on Omnartus while Arlathan had laid useless and unconscious, unable to fight alongside his men who'd been slaughtered en-mass was what inspired him to re-think his mentality and change. To inspire others like that was something Enandra had worked to develop over decades, but it seemed to come naturally to Attelus. However, he seemed to bring out the worst in some, too, Marcel Torris being a good example and not unjustifiably as well, from what Enandra understood.

Maybe she should have made him an Interrogator as well.

She sighed and sat back in her chair; Enandra should give him the benefit of the doubt, though, after everything the boy had gone through. He would think she was pitying him right now, but it wasn't; she understood the burden he bared more than he knew. He was following the philosophy Enandra herself espoused, "we do what must be done", or as Attelus had once put it ", anything and everything to win." And she had hinted he had her permission

Enandra was just worried; when it came down to it, would Attelus maintain loyalty to her or the Eldar? She knew he held very little respect or thought toward the assassin cult he supposedly held allegiance to, so Enandra never worried about that. Still, the confirmation of a third entity he worked with was disconcerting, to say the least. The Eldar were fickle creatures at best and...

With a sigh, Enandra sat back at her desk; here she was, overthinking like that little fool and began reading over the reports again. She would reserve judgment until he arrived; she had a pile of paper to get through until then.


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus, Tathe, Karmen and the Sons of Dispater leader, master Hadrel made sure they were on the bridge of The Xenocide before they exited warp space. Karmen wore her full power armour. Hadrel was a shaven-headed, dark-skinned man whose forever scowling face seemed like he was constantly smelling the foulest of farts. The Xenocide when they exited into material space. From what little Attelus understood of spacecraft, he'd been informed The Xenocide was a raider-class ship, one designed for speed and manoeuvrability over huge amounts of firepower and armour like the cruisers or the more balanced ships such at the frigate classes. The Xenocide was an incredibly well built and old ship made with high-quality archeotech and fitted with numerous stealth systems, horticultural gardens and an inbuilt barracks, making the ship almost entirely self-sufficient. As well as a newly installed piece of archeotech which somehow sped up their travel time in the warp the ship's Tech-Adept Attelus had already forgotten the name of had explained this to them after some convincing, but the technicalities of it went way over Attelus' head. It seemed they'd really hit the jackpot in taking this ship, all thanks to Kalakor.

Thanks to the Space Marine, it hadn't been hard to get the vast majority of the crew to work for them, especially after Delan Tathe went down and talked among them. They'd promised the lower decks crew better treatment and pay, and Attelus had meant it. It was sad how little they needed to change their allegiance; Attelus supposed it was true the Imperium over; it was one of the reasons why so many Chaos Cults could manipulate so many into their embrace and sell their souls to the depredations of Chaos. The bridge crew and the upper deck crew were less willing to co-operate, so even now as the bridge was still being patrolled by ten Sons of Dispater guarding them, while many were being held in the prison section. Attelus dreaded what they had to do with them once they reunited with Inquisitor Enandra.

Luckily, the Navigator had been so segregated and out of touch to almost all the going on in the ship he'd just calculated their course without question. The astropath, after regaining consciousness and being calmed down by Karmen, she'd managed to convince him to help them; it also helped he apparently wasn't a fan of Inquisitor Draven in the first place, but the poor bastard seemed shaken and traumatised by his encounter with Kalakor. Attelus hoped he'd be okay; there were already too many people victimised by their actions now.

'Exiting warp space in five minutes,' said the Navigator over the vox, bringing Attelus back into reality, and Attelus turned to give the ship's newly appointed Captain, a woman named Arete, a pointed glare. She met his eyes without a hint of fear and nodded.

'Yes, good work, thank you, Kellen,' she replied over the vox-link. Attelus had no idea how old Arete was; her long light brown hair could've been dyed, and her pale youthful, smooth skin could've been due to extensive rejuvenant treatments, but the matronly way she carried herself and the weariness in her bloodshot, blue eyes, and her old, worn but well maintained blue navy uniform suggested she was much older. She was quite gorgeous, in all honesty, despite the jagged scar running down the left side of her face. Attelus found himself crushing on her quite quickly, despite the withering looks from Karmen. Perhaps he had a thing for more mature women? Of course, Arete had been cold and prickly towards Attelus and everyone associated with him during the whole trip, only speaking to them when it was completely necessary. Which Attelus couldn't blame her for, in all honesty.

He just hoped that Arete wouldn't have to die, but if anyone could convince Arete and her crew to join their side, it'd be Inquisitor Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus.

Attelus sighed and began to pace the bridge, his arms folded and stole a glance at Hadrel. Attelus hadn't had much time to talk to the assassin master across the week, but Karmen had subtly slipped past his psy-block and gave his mind a good read. According to her, he seemed to have legitimately changed sides; he too had hated Draven, but he was still at war within himself, his loyalty to the Sons of Dispater had been strong, and he was terrified of the retribution they might bring down on him and his people's heads later. What'd really made him turn against Draven was his loyalty to the people he commanded; this had been reinforced after Attelus had slaughtered so many back in the Counting House. The contract with Draven had been for a year, and he didn't want to keep working for an employer who deemed them so expendable. A fact that he'd suspected since he'd first met Draven six weeks ago.

Attelus was sceptical; he didn't trust psychic mind reading; he believed that sitting and speaking to people was a better way to get to know someone. He wasn't terribly good at it and took much longer, but it was more real and reliable in the long run.

He'd watch his back with Hadrel.

'Exiting warp space...now,' said the helmsman as the now all too familiar shudder and slight bubbling nausea of entering real space swept through Attelus.

'Open shutters,' said Arete.

'Opening shutters,' said one of the officers and the windows slowly opened, revealing the black with white dots of the void beyond.

Arete looked to Attelus. 'Where to now?'

'Scintilla,' said Attelus.

'The signal you want us to transmit?' she said.

'Transmit the signal of Inquisitorial signal of The Xenocide,' said Karmen. 'But once we get further into the system, use a false one.'

'Understood,' said Arete, who then nodded to the vox officer.

'Transmitting...now,' said the vox officer.

'No one's transmitting anything?' said Attelus, as suspicion hit him.

'Nothing close to us,' said the vox officer. 'Nothing Inquisition either'.

'And nothing on the scanner...sir,' said the master of scanners.

Attelus exchanged a look with Karmen; Enandra's reply had claimed she would meet them on the system's border. So, where was she? Taking precautions or-

'Receiving a vox hail...sir,' said the vox officer. 'Visual feed. Although, I cannot trace it to its source.'

'Accept it,' sighed Attelus.

The black screen on the wall above the glasteel windows flickered into an image of Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra. She wore her elaborate gold and black power armour and wide-brimmed pointed hat with a white 'I' emblazoned on it, a mainstay icon of her Ordos almost as iconic as the Warhammer for those in the Ordo Malleus. She lounged in the Captain's chair of The Audacious Edge like she was the queen of the galaxy, and her ebony skin shone in the bright light of the bridge. Enandra, as usual, seemed to radiate sexiness, feminine power and unlimited authority. She might've been relaxed in her chair, her brow furrowed in an uncharacteristically open display of bemusement. Everyone on the bridge crew seemed hypnotised by her, even Arete.

'Mamzel, Enandra,' said Attelus allowing a smile to cross his face. 'It's good to-'

'Why you in the Emperor's name are you in the bridge of Draven's ship?' she said.

Attelus' eyebrows raised. 'How do you-'

'You are transmitting his code,' said Enandra. 'What the hell is going on?'

'That's a long and sordid story,' said Attelus. 'And it's good to see you too, Inquisitor.'

Enandra sighed. 'It's good to see you too, Attelus. My apologies; I didn't expect my old rival just suddenly to appear back out of nowhere. Where is he?'

'Down in the prison bay,' said Attelus. 'We have a new ship in our organisation, now.'

The Inquisitor gaped. 'And how did you manage that?'

'As I recall, you said that we could conquer a world,' said Karmen smoothly. 'Is it so unbelievable we managed to conquer a ship?'

'Hello, Karmen. I suppose I did say that, but I am still asking how.'

'Fair enough,' said Attelus as he drained away in his sentence, uncertain where to go from here.

Enandra sighed and rolled her eyes. 'Alright, you will come over to my ship for the de-briefing. I'll be there in about half an hour.'

The screen then turned black again.

Attelus sighed and slipped his hands into the pockets of his flak jacket, then looked at Karmen. 'What now?'

'We stick to the plan, Attelus,' Karmen sighed. 'Or at least we try to.'


Attelus, along with Karmen, Torris, Halsin, Darrance, Torris and Delathasi, stood in the void-craft. They were accompanied by ten Sons of Dispater and master Hadrel, and captain Arete. Kalakor stood in the corner, as still as a statue. All eyes were plastered forward, the stink of perspiration thick in the grim confines.

Attelus swallowed and tried to fight back the anxiety threatening to overtake him. He wished everything wasn't so damned complicated; Attelus wished he didn't need to come clean about his connection to the Eldar, and he hoped their lies about Kalakor would be believed. He hated that they were just replacing one lie with another. It was all well and good for the Space Marine to join them in their fight, but Attelus' wasn't sure if Kalakor truly appreciated how his presence truly made things harder.

'Landing now,' said the pilot over the vox-link and a second after, the ship began to slow. Come to a stop, then start to descend. He heard the subtle whirring, buzzing and felt it as the landing legs extended from the ship's belly, then the hard, skeleton shaking, crashing thud as they hit the deck.

'Boarding ramp lowering,' said the pilot as it began to descend, revealing the dull grey but well-lit adamantium floor beyond.

Attelus picked up the crate next to his feet, and they began walking.

Waiting for them was Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra in her full resplendent gold and black power armour and Witch Hunter's hat. Her ebony skin shining and flawless as usual, and her long, raven coloured hair sweeping around her shoulders as she smiled at them, a smile which quickly drained away when she saw Kalakor. Which was predicted, and Attelus more than empathised.

On her flanks were Interrogator Arlathan Karkin and Vex Carpompter. Behind them stood two ten-man squads of Enandra's Stormtroopers; one was the gak-head Kollath with his ceremonial power sword sheathed at his hip.

Attelus wanted to run forward and hug her, to shake Arlathan's and Vex's hands in his, but he fought the urge. But he met Arlathan's gaze; the ex-magistratum detective's dark eyes twinkled with amusement as he gave Attelus a slight nod. His pale, scarred face was boarded by a thick, black, immaculately maintained beard and slicked-back hair. He wore white carapace armour with a black leather coat and a storm bolter hung from his shoulder. Vex, well, Vex didn't meet Attelus' gaze because his bugged-out eyes were plastered on Delathasi. Everyone knew he had a massive crush on the assassin apprentice for a long time now.

'I see there are...a lot of new faces here,' said Enandra. 'One just so happens to be a Space Marine of the Raven Guard. But a few old ones are missing; where are Hayden, Vark, Verenth, Helma and Jelket?'

Attelus shared a glance with Karmen. 'Hayden is confined to his quarters, and Vark, Verenth, Helma and Jelket are all...are all...'

Enandra nodded, and her gaze fell to the floor. 'I...see. That is a shame; I am sorry. I hope their deaths weren't in vain.'

'I told you they weren't,' said Attelus.

Enandra's gaze shot to Attelus. 'I don't mean any offence, Attelus Kaltos, but I will be the judge of that.'

'Good,' said Enandra. 'Just you, Attelus, Karmen, Commissar Tathe, I would tell the Space Marine not to come, but I doubt it will make any difference, and whoever you are.'

She pointed at Hadrel.

'Y-you know who I am, mamzel Inquisitor?' said Tathe.

'Of course, I know who you are,' Enandra snapped. 'You are a famous hero of the Imperial Guard, and I really did not expect you to be here nor your soldiers, and...who are you?'

One of the Sovrithian soldiers looked shocked at being addressed. 'We are troopers of the Sovrithian 81st Rifles, ma'am.'

'Never heard of your regiment. Did you tell all of these people they could join us, Attelus? I might have recruited you and all the other survivors of Omnartus, but that was in...extreme circumstances.'

Attelus shrugged and shuffled his foot. 'Perhaps...'

'I did as well, mamzel,' said Karmen. 'All of them fought to hell and back for us, literally. They will make amazing fighters in the Emperor's name.'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever you say. What about all these mercs, Sons of Dispater? Where did you get them? If they betrayed a contract, I don't want the complication. Attelus. I know you gather people around you like a crazy old woman collects cats, but this is ridiculous. And a frigging Space Marine, too!'

'I am right here,' said Kalakor.

'Excuse me, mamzel,' said Hadrel. 'With respect, we have nowhere to go; please do not leave us out in the wind. We will serve you with everything we've got, and we understand the stakes-'

'You what?' Enandra blinked and shared a glance with Arlathan. 'Let's... let's just go to that meeting. What's in the crate, Attelus? Something special? Or are you showing off your enhanced strength again?'

Attelus grinned and raised the crate. 'Fine wine and amasec from the Ixaniad Sector, courtesy of good your defeated rival Inquisitor Draven.'

Enandra's eyes narrowed. 'I see, well, thank you, but I'm sure you know I must have my people check that stuff over before we can drink it.'

Still grinning, Attelus nodded. He did know, and he could more than appreciate such a level of paranoia. Enandra would want a clear head for the de-briefing and the subsequent "interview" to follow.

'Before starting, Attelus, I need you to that from now on could you not just recruit everyone,' said Enandra as she, Arlathan and Vex took their seats at the table. At the same time, Kalakor went to lurk in the corner. The twenty Stormtroopers stood behind Enandra, backs to the wall, half of them watching Kalakor; the rest had their visored gazes plastered on Karmen and Attelus.

'I...' said Attelus as he Tathe, Karmen, and Hadrel sat across from the Enandra and the others. Karmen next to Attelus. There was food already laid out for them, mostly snack foods, a large jug of caffeine and a bottle of high-quality amasec.

Enandra raised her hand. 'Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, I do not want an, "I..." or any excuses, I just want you to say, "yes, mamzel", or "yes, Inquisitor", or "yes, mamzel Enandra" or "yes Inquisitor Enandra", or even "yes, Enandra", and when you say it that you mean it. Do you understand me?'

Before Attelus could reply, Karmen said, 'I also-'

'Karmen, stop trying to take some of the responsibility, I know you and Attelus are close, but I had placed him in charge, not you. You should know that means he takes full responsibility, right?'

Karmen Kons, a beta-level psyker powerful enough and skilled enough to hold back a Bloodthirster, a greater daemon of the blood god and pull down the kine shield of a daemon of the god of change, nodded, her wide eyes filled with shining fear.

Kalakor's soft, throaty laugh reverberated the room. 'That is the truth; I am liking you more and more, mamzel Inquisitor.'

'Thank you, that is a special compliment from one of the Emperor's Angels of Death. Name and rank, please.'

Kalakor straightened and smoothly made the sign of the Aquila across his broad chest. 'Veteran-sergeant Kalakor 4th company, mamzel Inquisitor.'

Attelus poured himself a generous cup of caffeine and finally sat.

'It is good to meet you, veteran-sergeant Kalakor,' said Enandra. 'I must say seeing you among the people in the hangar bay was the very last thing I expected. Maybe beside the Emperor of Mankind himself.'

Kalakor chuckled and gave her a slight nod.

The Enandra looked back to Attelus, and he fought to keep from flinching from her gaze. 'Attelus...?'

'Yes, mamzel Enandra.'

Enandra studied Attelus for a few seconds, and he didn't look away from her large, intense brown eyes before she finally nodded and lounged back in her chair. 'Good. Now, onto another thing, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, just how many people have learned of the true fate of Omnartus?'

She looked at Hadrel. 'A fact this man hinted at, what's your name?'

Hadrel straightened, but to his credit, didn't look away from her. 'I am master Korvin Hadrel formally of the Sons of Dispater, mamzel Inquisitor.'

'Formally? Maybe I could pull a few strings and change that.'

Hadrel shook his head. 'Please don't take offence, mamzel, but I doubt that, and as you have figured out, we know, or we know some, of what you are fighting against and my men and I wish to take part in that fight.'

Enandra smiled a thin smile. 'Of course, you do. Does this remind you of anything, Attelus?'

'Like me, three years ago, mamzel Enandra.'

Enandra nodded. 'We'll see, master Hadrel. What about you, Commissar Delan Tathe? Are you sure you should be here and not with your army?'

Tathe frowned. 'What you saw in the hangar bay was all that's left of the men and women of the Elbyran contingent, mamzel.'

Her eyes widened. 'I am...sorry, Tathe. The Imperium is a lesser place now, I am sure.'

'Mamzel Inquisitor, I truly mourn their loss, but it was...It was...'

'I...I understand, Commissar,' said Enandra. 'I should not be surprised I knew the circumstances of the warp storm that trapped you on Sarkeath. The fact that you are alive is amazing in itself.'

Her eyes narrowed. 'Or untainted.'

Tathe flinched. 'I... I'm not. Attelus and Karmen can vouch for my men and I.'

Enandra nodded, but she didn't seem convinced, and she looked back at Attelus. 'So, I'm guessing the good Commissar knows everything as well?'

Attelus nodded. 'We felt it imperative to tell them they deserved to know after all they sacrificed to complete our mission.'

Enandra's gaze turned hard as she seemed to see the corner Attelus had backed her into. In all honesty, she'd think the guardsmen and women of the Elbyran contingent were owed nothing; the Inquisition didn't owe anyone anything, ever. Technically, anyway, as the word of the Inquisition was second only the Emperor's himself, but Attelus called that Grox gak right from the start, no organisation and no one person deserved such power, especially the Inquisition. But Enandra could fall into such self-righteous arrogance from time to time. But she couldn't say that in front of Tathe. Then the hardness in her gaze disappeared, and she smiled and gave Attelus a slight nod of approval.

'I...see,' said Enandra. 'The truth of the Omnartus Incident is highly classified for a reason, a damn good reason, so please, from now on, do not just go telling people about it, even if they "deserved it" What about you Master Hadrel? How did you learn of it? I do not recall learning about a group of Sons of Dispater mercenaries taking part in the liberation of Sarkeath in...'

She glanced at Arlathan, which he met with a sidelong look of his own and a smile that was distinct even behind his beard. 'In Interrogator Arlathan Karkin's research.'

'I have never heard of a world called Sarkeath until today, mamzel Inquisitor. I wasn't there, but Attelus Kaltos here told it because he was forced to tell it by our employer, Inquisitor Draven.'

'He did, did he?' said Enandra. 'As you are fond of saying, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, 'Hmm, interesting, yes."'

Attelus sighed. 'Mamzel, can we just tell you what happened, please?'

Enandra sighed. 'Yet again, your impatience gets the better of you, Attelus. Didn't Glaitis teach you how important patience was?'

Hadrel's eyes widened, and he looked at Attelus. 'Glaitis? Does she mean master Glaitis of the Blades of Vengeance?'

'Yes, she does,' said Attelus. 'But that's not important right now, and, in all honesty, mamzel Enandra, you're reminding me of that old bitch right now.'

There was a long silence as everyone in the room, excluding Kalakor and Enandra, looked at Attelus, shocked. Enandra just smiled a strangely amused smile.

So Attelus took advantage of the silence and quickly began to recount their misadventures right from when they left Scintilla. He ignored the shocked looks from Arlathan, Vex and Hadrel when he admitted to their trip through the webway in Autarch Raloth Arlyandor's ship.

Their arrival to Sarkeath emphasised how the planet seemed like an ordinary desert world before they landed upon the blood sands, how the world itself seemed to suppress Karmen's psychic might and their first encounter and successful ambush of cultists during their journey to the city of Kelitia. How Attelus, now on hindsight, idiotically separated the group, getting him, Adelana, Delathasi and Hayden to go scout ahead.

Of how they found the city almost utterly engulfed in blood sands, damaged and seemingly abandoned. Then how Karmen and the other team were attacked by more cultists in the desert, which led to the destruction of their All-Terrain Vehicle, but how they managed to escape in the Guncutter before being overwhelmed.

Attelus then reeled back to his team; he neglected to tell them about the vision he received of the burning tower and the voice of what he now knew belonged to the daemon sword, the sword of Kalncerak—telling him how it needed protection from enemies. These enemies turned out to be his father and his agents. So instead, he described how they heard a skirmish battle going on in a nearby commercia building and that he and Delathasi went to check it out. Inside they found a group of guardsmen engaged with a group of cultists.

After Attelus helped one of the squads kill the cultists, the guardsmen turned on him, and the cultists joined forces with the guardsmen to try and kill Attelus and Delathasi.

'What?' said Enandra, interrupting Attelus' flow much to his annoyance. 'Why in the Emperor's name did they join forces to attack you?'

'It turned out later,' said Karmen. 'That they were what Tathe and his men called "The Resurrected." All of them had once killed, had their souls claimed by the blood god and brought to life to either fight amongst themselves or kill anyone who wasn't a part of them so they too would join their ranks.'

Enandra furrowed her brow and looked at Tathe. 'This is true?'

'Indeed,' said the Commissar. 'It was confirmed by Attelus Kaltos later, and my thought was they were being "trained" to become an incredibly experienced army that would serve their master by later going out into the stars to devastate the Imperium.'

'That makes sense,' said Enandra. 'So many loyal Imperial souls enslaved into Chaos, utterly, utterly horrific. Anyway, please continue, Attelus.'

Attelus nodded and started on again. Of how he and Delathasi would've been overwhelmed if it wasn't for the help of Adelana and Hayden and their subsequent escape from the collapsing building by the barest of margins. Hayden had thrown a krak grenade that damaged to wall enough to let in the blood sands that surrounded the building.

Then their capture by Captain Dantian and the 81st Sovrithian Rifles.

Kalakor butted in then, which made Attelus frown.

'I had adopted Captain Dantian and his company during the war as my squad had to sacrifice themselves to kill a Bloodthirster. We had received a distress call from the Commissar here, so I led the company to aid them.'

'A distress call I didn't send,' said Tathe. 'I figured that the other invasion forces were either destroyed or were busy with their own problems.'

Enandra nodded. 'Did you ever find out who sent the distress signal?'

Attelus exchanged looks with Tathe, Karmen and Kalakor. 'No,' said Attelus. 'In all honesty, so much then happened after that we didn't even consider asking Tathe about it. I had my suspicions about the signal, but that became the least of my problems.'

'Who do you think sent it?' said Enandra. 'Now with hindsight?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Well, we now know that the blood god wasn't the only Chaos influence on Sarkeath, but it turned out there was an alliance of sorts between the blood god and the god of change. So it could've been it, or...'

'Or what?' said Arlathan.

'Or my father and his lackeys.'

Enandra almost choked on her drink of caffeine. 'Your father was there?'

'Wait!' said Hadrel. 'Is your father Serghar Kaltos? The Serghar Kaltos.'

Attelus rolled his eyes. 'Yes,' he sighed. 'Yes, he is.'

Hadrel gaped. 'I thought your name was just a coincidence, no wonder you killed so many of my people. By the Emperor, he's the greatest assassin of the sector.'

'I know, I know. Please, just stop,' said Attelus as he placed his face into his hands. 'And really, mamzel Inquisitor? You're surprised of my father's involvement?'

Enandra shrugged. 'Maybe you're right; he is our enemy's chief lieutenant. But why was he there?'

'You will find out soon, anyway! Back on the subject,' said Karmen. 'Attelus?'

Attelus carried on with a nod. He told then of how he was taken to Kalakor, which was a frigging shock to him at the time, then his one-sided sparring match against he won against Dantian in a bid to get his precious sword back. Then his seventeen-minute long, exhausting sparring match against Kalakor, which Attelus lost. Attelus didn't say he regretted trying to win against Kalakor as it gave away his abilities and skill, which Kalakor and the Sovrithians didn't need to know. He just really wanted his sword back. He'd made many mistakes on Sarkeath, but luck seemed to be on his side until he went toe to toe with his father.

'Nice work, Attelus,' said Enandra as Vex gaped and Arlathan looked at Attelus with wide eyes.

'You managed to last seventeen minutes against that Space Marine?' said Arlathan.

'I am here,' said Kalakor.

Attelus pursed his lips and shrugged. 'Y-you know I've managed to kill a few before, Arlathan.'

'A few?' said Hadrel. 'How many are a few?'

'Four,' said Vex. 'Three as we escaped Omnartus, although all three were killed at Attelus' hand because he'd cheated or caught them off guard in one way or another. The fourth was a Traitor Marine named Erdaku, the self-proclaimed "Everchosen of Chaos" on the world of Terrascara. But that one is debatable.'

'Hey! Frig you, Vex,' said Attelus. 'Hayden might've blown Erdaku's head off with a hot-shot round, but I was the one who fought to get that idiot Erdaku into the right position, so that counts as my kill. I was the one with his frigging arse on the line. Then I almost broke my foot on Erdaku's corpse.'

Vex shrugged. 'Yes, but you were the person dumb enough to kick power armour, and you would have been killed if Hayden had not intervened, so...'

'Yes, yes,' said Enandra. 'Let's just say it was both yours and Hayden's kill, Attelus. It was a team effort; after all, just get over it already. By the Emperor, I swear you can be such a child. Almost like a man who's more a child than an adult. A child-man might be a good term to describe you.'

'So,' said Hadrel. 'Let me just get this understood, you are not just Serghar Kaltos' son, but you have managed to kill not one, not two, but three-'

'Four,' said Attelus through clenched teeth.

'Yes, sorry, four Space Marines. If we'd been told of this by Draven, we wouldn't have accepted this contract.'

'That is why it is always, always important to know your enemy, Hadrel,' said Enandra. 'And that would have been the reason why he didn't tell you.'

'Indeed,' said the assassin master.

Arlathan looked at Attelus. 'Sorry for the interruption, Attelus. Please continue.'

Attelus frowned and spoke on that Kalakor had exploited a loophole in his agreement to keep Attelus' sword, and Attelus couldn't help fix the Space Marine a withering glare as he recounted this. Then of how they saw their guncutter arrive, and Kalakor decided to take Attelus and some men to take a look.

Karmen took over then, explaining that they'd decided to fly down from orbit, but the landing had drawn hundreds of Resurrected to their LZ. They'd quickly been separated as the enemy were wielding RPGs forcing Darrance to leave or else be shot down. They were almost overwhelmed but managed to escape by the skin of their teeth. They'd come down because of a vox communication sent by Attelus asking for them to help. Attelus had never sent a communication that now seemed to be from Serghar or one of his agents using a voice modulator, having somehow hacked into their vox network.

Then Attelus said of Kalakor going on to scout ahead, then of Etuarq's masked agents ambushing Attelus and the guardsmen escorting him. He went into detail about how he well managed to fight them off despite him at first being unarmed and that their reflexes and strength rivalled his own, then he looked at Tathe.

Tathe sighed. 'Those agents they were with us. We thought they were Inquisition, their master was holding the rosette and said his name was Tolbik, but he was Attelus'...father in disguise. What a complete arsehole we hated him right from when he and his idiot sycophants showed up. But he held the rosette.'

Enandra nodded. 'What happened next?'

Tathe told of how they managed to capture Attelus despite him trying to escape and how he had many of his men simultaneously attack the Sovrithian camp, a fact he wasn't proud of despite him ordering it on behalf of Serghar "frigging" Kaltos. But behind Serghar's back, he'd told the attackers to hold back and for another squad to use the distraction to infiltrate the camp and investigate on Tathe's behalf.

'Hmm, clever,' said Enandra.

Tathe smiled. 'Thank you, mamzel.'

The two of them held their gazes for a good few seconds, which Arlathan didn't appreciate.

'Anyway,' said Karmen, which caused them to look at her. 'We retreated to the top floor of a building and there holed up. Helma and Torris were badly injured in the fight and-'

'And I showed myself to them, literally,' said Kalakor.

'Almost gave poor Jelket the worst heart attack of the century,' said Karmen.

'Excuse me, what do you mean by "showed myself, literally"?' said Enandra.

Kalakor's red eyes swept toward her like he was making a target lock, but Enandra didn't flinch. 'It is not well known, but the Space Marines of the Raven Guard chapter, a few of us have the ability to turn invisible, even without the gift of psychic power. It is said to be inherited from our primarch, Corvus Corax.'

Enandra looked at Kalakor, her eyebrows raised, a reaction Attelus' hoped she'd have, and he had to fight back a smile. Enandra was damn good at reading people and lies; she was the best Attelus had seen until his encounter with Draven, who seemed inhumanly good at it. But a Space Marine was an entirely different creature to read, especially when in full power armour and especially when they were Kalakor.

'I'm...surprised that you would share that with me, sergeant,' she said. 'I am guessing you won't tell me how you can do this exactly?'

'I am afraid not, mamzel Inquisitor.'

She nodded. 'I understand; I am honoured you would tell me so much, anyway.'

Kalakor shrugged. 'I only do so because it is an important facet to the mission report.'

She smiled thinly. 'Even so. Please keep going, Karmen.'

Karmen then told of how Kalakor gave them a rundown of the situation; he knew of Attelus' capture by the Velrosian 1st regiment and their attack on the Sovrithians and proposed an alliance between them to rescue Attelus, Adelana, Hayden and Delathasi, which Karmen hesitantly accepted. Then Kalakor slipped off to meet back with the Sovrithian 81st.

Karmen turned to Attelus, their eyes meeting, and she smiled. Attelus returned her smile and took over. He described their trip to the Elbyran contingent's base, emphasising the professional capability of Dellenger, the scouts and the Velrosian troops at dodging the enemy skirmishes on the way; he wanted Enandra to know how good they were, how valuable they would be to the organisation. He hoped he didn't come off too over the top. Then his subsequent meeting and beating by his bastard of a father and how he needed Attelus to retrieve the daemon sword of Kalncerak.

Enandra furrowed her brow. 'Why did he need you to get the sword?'

This was one of the dos or die lies in their story, one which they'd prepped for; in truth, his father needed him as only a perpetual was able to enter the pocket dimension which the sword was imprisoned and take it. Kalakor as well. Serghar needed the blade as it ate souls, even those of a perpetual, so he could kill Attelus with it and use Attelus' corpse for a reason they still didn't know, but he could hazard countless guesses as to why.

'He didn't tell me,' said Attelus as he lied; he tried to replicate the tone and everything that'd made him accidentally fool Draven back on Iocanthos.

'He didn't tell you?' said Enandra.

'He didn't; he said he didn't think I deserved the explanation. He said something vague about my destiny or some gak. One of the reasons he and Etuarq bent fate so I could be born. But nothing of any substance.'

That was all true, in the most technical of senses, of course.

Enandra studied him for a few seconds before finally nodding. 'From your description of who Serghar is before, that makes sense. He seems to embody the very worst aspects of the Imperium of Mankind. The belief that human life is truly a commodity for him to sacrifice for his gains. All the more reason to stop him and his master.'

Attelus gulped down a relieved sigh but still tried to search for some clue in Enandra's symmetrical face that she hadn't been fooled. But she showed nothing but what seemed to be genuine belief.

'So, what happened next?' said Arlathan, who seemed the most engulfed by their story than anyone, as he leaned his elbows on the table, hunching forwards.

Attelus then informed her that Serghar claimed he "wished for the death of Chaos and all the Xenos races," which really seemed to make Arlathan, Vex, and Enandra perk up.

'I thought that he was aligned to the Chaos gods,' said Arlathan. 'That's what his agent, the triple agent...Feuilt had said back on Omnartus before you killed him.'

'That's what Feuilt claimed, but I think that was a feint, whether Feuilt believed it or not,' said Attelus. 'Although, I'm not sure why. But I could hazard many guesses. The evidence that Etuarq and Serghar aren't just not working with Chaos but actively against it is seriously strong now. I also believe the agents working under my father two of them were Feuilt and Rodyille. And one is confirmed to be...to once been...Elandria.'

'Confirmed?' said Vex, his wide eyes seemed to dominate his face from behind his glasses. 'We know her body was taken by Feuilt after she...she died in your arms. Then he claimed she was sent off-world, but-'

'Yes, I know, Vex,' hissed Attelus. 'I'm skipping way ahead here; you'll find out why soon.'

Attelus looked sidelong at Tathe.

The Commissar cleared his throat. He told about the squad he'd secretly sent to infiltrate the Sovrithian camp, how they brought him Attelus' power sword they'd stolen from the weapons confiscated from Attelus and his group and that one of the troopers recognised it as a sword once owned by the family which ruled her province in north Velrosia. Enandra already knew Karmen had given Attelus the sword on Omnartus, and it was a family heirloom of Karmen's lineage, the Erith line, so she didn't need that explained to her.

He then went and talked to Attelus for answers, and Attelus had tried to convince Tathe to change sides but failed. But he did succeed in making Tathe consider the possibility. This was also reinforced when Tathe went to meet Serghar in his tent and found Serghar brutally beating the gak out of one of his agents just because she'd gone and talked to Attelus and company without his permission. That thanks to Attelus, Tathe had finally gained the courage to confront Serghar. And that their talk was interrupted by Tathe's father, the traitorous general Tathe using the city's public vox-speaker system, which was somehow still working to address the Elbyran Contingent and the Sovrithian 81st. Telling them to surrender and give into Chaos, but never informed them how to do it, which Tathe still found amusing for a reason Attelus couldn't comprehend.

Perhaps the general didn't tell them because the part of him that was still loyal, and human prevented him. The side which Attelus had first found when he'd finally managed to get to the top of the tower.

After the call, Serghar demanded that Tathe get his men to go toward the tower, but before they could move out, the Elbyran contingent came under attack by the Sovrithians.

It was the insanity of two loyal Imperial Guard regiments being forced to fight each other which finally made Tathe turn against "Inquisitor Tolbik."

Attelus stepped in to explain that while the Sovrithians attacked his father and his three agents decided to take him and the others away. But before they could, Commissar Tathe intercepted them, and all of the Elbyran troops around were quick to back Tathe up when the situation quickly escalated.

Then the Guncutter arrived, hovering overhead.

A fight broke out, leaving the Stormtroopers working for Serghar dead and dozens of Elbyran troopers slaughtered in an utter bloodbath as Serghar, and his lackeys made their desperate escape.

And Tathe finally gave Attelus back his sword.

Attelus then made sure to tell how angry Hayden was at him, and rightfully so, it was because of Attelus' mistakes the mission had gone awry, to say the least.

He looked at Enandra with wide eyes. 'With-with all due respect, mamzel. In all honesty, I don't think I should've been placed in charge of the team.'

'Oh?' said Enandra. 'Why do you figure that?'

'I...I thought it'd be obvious by now after what we've told you, Inquisitor,' said Attelus.

To Attelus' surprise, Enandra blew a raspberry. 'Maybe you messed up a here and there, but you have seemed to have learned from your mistakes. Attelus. That is a trait more important than anything; that alone shows me that I did not make a mistake in placing you in the lead. And beside that, if you weren't in charge, you wouldn't have been able to travel to the Gothic Sector and back so fast. I don't think if I had, say, placed Darrance in the lead, that wouldn't have happened.'

Attelus shrugged, unconvinced. 'If you'd placed Karmen in charge, she would've agreed to travel through the webway.'

'Yes, but from what I understand when she found herself almost unable to use her psychic power when you arrived on Sarkeath,' said Enandra, 'She had what could be described as an existential crisis, am I correct, Karmen?'

'Yes, mamzel, Inquisitor,' said Karmen as her brow knotted and her eyes fell to the floor.

'So, it might've been worse if she was in charge.'

'But-'

Enandra raised a hand. 'Stop your damned whining, Attelus. I made the right decision, and that is that. Now, stop wasting my time and keep going with your report.'

Attelus shot to his feet. 'No.'

There was a pause.

Enandra sneered. 'What do you mean by "no"?'

'No means no, frig you, mamzel. My father manipulated me as easily as if I was a string puppet. If it wasn't for the interference of Kalakor, there. He and Etuarq would've got exactly what they wanted. If I wasn't in charge, that wouldn't have happened.'

Enandra raised an eyebrow. 'As I recall, they manipulated you "like a string puppet" back on Omnartus, and you weren't in charge back then.'

Attelus grimaced, and tears welled in his eyes. 'Y-yes, but that just proved I was susceptible to it. Hayden had warned me; he'd frigging warned me, and I didn't listen and-'

'Attelus, please,' said Karmen as she placed a hand on his shoulder. 'That's enough for now. Please, just let the Inquisitor hear the rest of it, and she might understand you more after that.'

He turned to her, and she met his gaze again, smiling. Attelus nodded and turned back to Enandra. Both Arlathan and Vex were both nodding in approval; they both thought Attelus and Karmen were finally in a relationship, it seemed. Well, they were wrong even if Attelus hadn't frigged up what they'd had.

'Karmen Kons, ever the diplomat,' said Enandra.

With a scowl, Attelus continued on to tell of how he finally reunited with the rest of the team. And Hayden's anger at Darrance for not opening fire on Serghar and his people when they escaped. Despite the fact, it would've killed many Elbyran soldiers if Darrance even managed to at all.

'I see you're building up to the reason why Hayden is confined to his quarters?' said Arlathan.

'Yes, indeed,' said Karmen. She then told that she'd left Jelket as a liaison between them and the Sovrithians due to his experience as a guardsman and because she could tell he was struggling with self-esteem issues.

Karmen blue eyes glistened with tears, but she seemed to quickly gain control of herself. 'Jelket did an excellent job; he was a good man and an excellent soldier who deserves the highest of honours for his service to the Golden Throne.'

'Of course,' said Enandra. 'He was a good man, and I mourn his loss.'

Everyone nodded, even Hadrel, who had no idea who Jelket was. Karmen then looked at Tathe and said how she and Attelus had explained to him why they were here.

'You did, did you?' said Enandra. 'I thought you said you did it because he had "earned it"'

'Correction,' said Attelus. 'We had told because "they" had earned it, meaning all of the survivors of the battle through Kelitia, in all honesty.'

He neglected to mention he and Karmen had told Dellenger and Adreen as well as Tathe, but frig it.

'Semantics,' said Enandra.

Attelus shrugged again. 'In all honesty, semantics are kind of my thing; you know me well enough to know that, right?'

Enandra grinned. 'Indeed so.'

'Anyway, they didn't tell me a lot,' said Tathe. 'Not how they managed to bypass the warpstorm and the events in any real detail. We had "earned" that honour much later, and by the frigging Emperor, I say we did, damn it. I lost so many good men and women in that battle who then I had to kill over and over again. Men and women I'd know for decades, we'd earned to known the truth, frig it!'

Attelus watched on; that outburst wasn't rehearsed as Attelus' earlier one wasn't either, but Tathe meant it, and he was right.

Enandra sat back in her chair and raised her hands as Arlathan and Vex exchanged bemused glances. 'I understand, Commissar, and my apologies. I didn't mean offence secrets are an Inquisitor's stock and trade and-'

'You put me in charge, mamzel Enandra,' said Attelus. 'When you did, you showed me that you believed that I would know when to share secrets. Secrets are our "stock and trade," aren't they? I traded secrets, so Tathe would be more likely to help us push to the tower so we could get to general Tathe, so we could get the "secrets" of the Exterminatus we were investigating into. Which we damn well did.'

Everyone, even Karmen and Tathe, gaped at Attelus in abstract shock.

The shocked silence hung in the air for a good few seconds, and it was Kalakor who broke it with a bark of a laugh. 'The boy's logic is flawless; I must say that I am impressed.'

'Uhm, thanks, Kalakor,' said Attelus, blushing.

'Yes, I...see,' said Enandra through gritted teeth. 'Do continue, please, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos.'

Attelus swallowed, seeing he was pushing it too far now. It reminded him of when he reported to Glaitis back on Omnartus about his misadventures. But the consequences of his questioning of her wasn't as subtle as Enandra gritting her teeth.

Attelus had told the truth about how Enandra reminded him of Glaitis sometimes. They were both intelligent, intense, seductive and charismatic women. Both were skilled warriors and intimidating as hell when they wanted to be. But Glaitis was a dictatorial and manipulative bitch who only did what she did for her selfish gains and petty revenge against Attelus' father for frigging her then abandoning her. Enandra wasn't like that, but at times Attelus couldn't help fear she too might fall into that way one day.

Tathe cleared his throat, which caused all attention to turn to him. 'I suppose I'll take it from here.'

He then explained his call with Captain Dantian, how he managed to get the Captain to help them. Then, they left their makeshift base and began what would be the final battle. Tathe's eyes swirled with tears as he described the heroism of every soldier under his command. How they knew they were on a suicide mission and that when they died, they would join the enemy ranks, but none hesitated or even baulked in their duty.

How every single small step was a war in itself to take. How despite none of the Elbyran troops being dedicated to line-infantry, they performed line-infantry drills to a professional degree. How for every one of his troopers would fall, dozens of the enemy would be killed. Then the sacrifice of the men and women who advanced on the north and southern flank sacrificed themselves fought for as long and as hard as they could to protect the main advance.

All the while, Attelus stole glances at Arlathan, Enandra and Vex, who were all utterly engrossed in Tathe's passionate retelling of the battle. Tathe then told of how well Attelus, Hayden, Verenth, Helma and Delathasi fought. Attelus looked at Karmen during that time, and she was blushing like a schola girl. But he praised Karmen the most; her kine-shield was instrumental in saving countless guardsmen, countless times despite how hard she found it to summon it and how brief the time she could keep it up. Tathe was right, though, Attelus might've killed more of the enemy than anyone else, but her power made more of a difference than even if Attelus managed to slay a thousand of the Resurrected.

Then he looked at Attelus, and it took Attelus a while to realise it was his turn to continue to the story. After shaking himself back to reality, Attelus explained they reprogrammed the Elbran vox network to eject any hackers, and so they used it instead of theirs because of this. Attelus got a call from Vark, who was acting as vox officer for Tathe's makeshift command squad, telling him the southern advance needed his help. So Attelus sliced a hole in the wall of a building and began south. He then realised the call had been over the Elbyran network, but by then, it was too late-

'It was a trap,' interrupted Vex smugly, as he leaned back in his chair, an equally smug smile on his chinless face.

Attelus treated the hacker with his best withering glare, which made the young man's attention flinch away in a most satisfactory way.

'You're such a frigging genius you managed to figure that out,' said Attelus, 'it's not like you have the benefit of hindsight or anything. I was high on adrenaline and...'

Attelus stopped himself when he realised the next word was going to be "blood-lust."

Vex shrugged, pursing his lips like a sulking child, his gaze on the floor.

'Yes, yes,' said Enandra as she whipped out her gauntleted hand dismissively. 'We don't need your excuses. You frigged up. What happened next?

'Hmm, yes of course, mamzel,' said Attelus. 'Yes, the ambush my father and his agents laid for me and...'

Attelus trailed off, then sighed as he realised how much Vex was going to enjoy this next part and how much he suddenly wanted a smoke. They'd never got along, even more so after Attelus had lost his gak with Vex when they were working for Taryst back on Omnartus and strangled Vex.

Attelus had secretly hired Vex to check into Taryst's past, but Taryst found out about it. Attelus had believed at first that Vex had sold him out, but it'd turned out Karmen had taken it from his mind without Vex's knowledge or consent. Just another gakky thing she'd done out of a very, very long list. Later, Attelus let Vex punch him in the face as that was what Vex wanted. Despite being a tiny, skinny little bastard, Vex had hit Attelus so hard; it'd taken him so off guard it'd knocked Attelus off his feet. It'd turned out Garrakson had been teaching Vex how to punch for a good month just for that occasion. It'd been one of the most humiliating moments of Attelus' life.

'I...I tried to fight my father and-and that went as well as you might've expected.'

Enandra raised her eyebrows. 'Not well?'

'Not well, really, really not well. He frigging slaughtered me. With his eyes closed, literally.'

That made Arlathan, Enandra exchange surprised glances, and Vex smiled.

'He impaled me, gutted me, but as I was on the sword, I punched him in the frigging face with one of my throwing knives. I have to emphasise this my father is a pure psychopath; he's a complete sadist.'

Enandra nodded; she seemed like she wanted to say something along the lines of "I had thought so," but stopped herself.

Attelus frowned but carried on. Telling them how Adelana had figured out something was wrong and came to help. She managed to delay Serghar for long enough to allow the Resurrected to move forwards far enough to enter the building behind the advancing Elbyran Contingent. He praised Adelana for how she managed to figure out it was a trap and didn't hesitate to put herself in incredible danger by confronting enemies who physically outclassed her by light-years. Attelus ignored the glare from Karmen as he did.

With the Resurrected pouring through the hole Serghar and the two male agents stayed to hold them back as the female agent, Adelana and Attelus, escaped.

'When she'd figured out the trap, Adelana had called in Darrance to pick us up,' said Attelus, 'we barely managed to reach the roof where he was waiting for us. And...and the agent, she took off her mask, and it was Elandria. I have no doubt. Darrance can corroborate.'

'How?' said Enandra.

'She said...she told us she was no longer Elandria but her body reanimated and enhanced by a "gestalt of souls" but-but I pointed out she still had still had her mind...she still had her mind...literally.'

'I'm surprised you were still conscious after being impaled through,' said Arlathan.

'I was only barely conscious,' said Attelus. 'It took all of my will to stay awake.'

'I'm sorry, Attelus,' said Enandra. 'I know what she meant to you, and after mourning her death, for her to come back, it must've been painful.'

Attelus shrugged. 'In all honesty, mamzel, I was pretty much convinced it was her and that her "friends" were Feuilt and Rodyille by recognising their fighting styles. I should've been more mentally prepared for it. She'd revealed her face at my insistence.'

'To be fair,' said Arlathan, with an encouraging smile. 'You were suffering from a gut wound, then.'

Attelus folded his arms across his chest and looked at the floor. 'Yes, I guess...'

Silence took over again, and it lasted a good while before Enandra looked at Tathe and Karmen and said, 'What happened next?'

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Karmen fought the urge to roll her eyes and tore her attention from Attelus to Inquisitor Enandra. She knew almost everyone in the room besides Attelus could read her annoyance, but she hardly cared; she'd never been great at hiding her emotions; she had that in common with Attelus. Karmen bit her tongue; she wanted to tell him to get the frig over it; Elandria was dead and had been so for three years now. Elandria was now an enemy, and if he hesitated even for a millisecond...

During those six months on Omnartus, as Taryst waged that war against Brutis Bones and gangs, Karmen had been inside the minds of Attelus and Elandria many times. Attelus' attraction and growing affection towards Elandria was as unsubtle as it was annoying. Still, he also was slowly finding a strong friendship with the rest of his "squad" made of Taryst's direct employees Garrakson, Torris, Callague and Jarvus. Despite the constant drudgery and repetition of trying to find a way to track down Brutis Bones and the almost daily brutal skirmishes with Moody Hammers. Attelus had found the friendships he'd spent years looking for, although he only knew this deep in his subconscious, his crush on Elandria and the misery of being a disposable pawn dominating his thoughts.

It was one of the reasons Karmen had asked Taryst to elevate him. An offer Attelus had refused. Despite how much she looked, though Karmen couldn't find the reason why Attelus was a mercenary as six years prior, she had tried to erase his memories of his traumatising time living in the ruins of Varander as an animalistic scavenger, then as a warrior killing Chaos patrols for their supplies so he wouldn't become an assassin but the historian he truly wished to be. She'd succeeded in erasing those memories, including their meeting and their fight against the enemy. Still, she couldn't find out why the motivation to become a mercenary hadn't gone with them no matter how hard she looked.

And Elandria, well, Elandria was interesting. She was in a constant state of cognitive dissonance. She was meant to be a brainwashed assassin beyond the concepts of "love" or even "attraction", but she didn't just have a crush on Taryst, which she left out on her sleeve, too bad for her Taryst wasn't playing on her side.

Or actually, she was lucky. But she was...in love with Attelus. It was why she allowed him to call her "El" where she wouldn't have allowed anyone else do it. This "love" she tried to hide behind a wall of anger and resentment toward Attelus. But that anger and resentment were actually toward herself, as she believed she should've been above it.

It didn't help that everyone saw how they felt toward each other, and Garrakson would tease them about it. In fact, almost every young woman who worked in Taryst's organisation had some sort of crush on Attelus, frigging Adelana included. It was annoying. While Karmen was in an induced coma, she heard that after Attelus attempted to sacrifice himself to save people from a rampaging arco-flagellant, she was so upset, she emotionally tortured him by refusing to tell him if he managed to save the people or not, having lost his memory of the fight. That was likely her twisted way to express her upset and anxiety at almost losing him and trying to make sure he'd never do such a thing ever again. She was also taken up in pretending to be far more ignorant and unobservant than what she really was.

Karmen glanced at Tathe, and he nodded. Tathe then explained that daemons had begun to appear among the Resurrected's ranks, the accursed Bloodletters, but the flame troopers he'd sent to take point by then had taken care of them, mostly. But it wasn't taking long for their promethium to run out. Tathe was also forced to fight an old friend of his, a Marangerian Captain Valketh, power sword to power sword. Tathe praised Dellenger the most, though; his skill in close quarters combat was so great that if it weren't for him, the casualties would've been far, far worse. In hindsight, Tathe had never seen the scout fight so effectively in all the years they'd served together, almost as if Dellenger had been holding back until then. Dellenger seemed almost inhuman then. Tathe soon found he was fighting not just the captain but a Resurrected former Velrosian scout and a cultist. He would've been overwhelmed and impaled on the scout's bayonet if Scout-Sergeant Adreen didn't sacrifice herself.

Tears welled in Tathe's eyes, and Karmen couldn't understand how he didn't break down yet; they recalled a battle which he'd led his soldiers into that left only a few dozen alive from the just under one thousand that'd begun. Many of whom he'd known for decades.

'I...loved, Adreen,' Tathe said; he seemed to explode words out of his chest like he was exhaling a breath he'd been holding for hours. 'She wasn't just one of my most trusted officers and advisors, but my best friend. We grew up in that regiment together. Dellenger might have been a better scout and warrior, but Adreen was a true leader and one of the soldiers who was the glue of the regiment. Seeing her die made me lose my mind. I would've rushed forward and been killed if Karmen hadn't stopped me.'

Tathe looked at Karmen and gave her an appreciative nod. 'Karmen managed to bring me back. To continue fighting and make damned sure Adreen's sacrifice wasn't in vain. The men and women of the Elbyran regiments needed me if we were going to be victorious.'

'Such is the burden of leadership,' said Enandra, nodding, and if anyone else in the room knew this, it would be her. 'I am sorry for your loss, Commissar.'

'Thank you, mamzel Inquisitor,' said Tathe, and he cleared his throat and kept on with the report. An hour after hour of fighting and killing and walking over the corpses of their comrades, they finally reached the final four-way junction before the blood sands fell down to the bottom of the tower. But by then, they were exhausted, their ammunition almost runs dry, their numbers reduced to barely over two hundred. The enemy the Resurrected and daemons poured into them like a tidal wave. In the span of a few seconds, dozens of loyal Marangerian, Velrosian, Galak Heiman and Despasian soldiers were slaughtered en masse.

They would've lost then and there if it wasn't for the Sovrithian 81st rifles along with Throne Agent Jelket suddenly hitting the Resurrected's open flank. Their lasguns cut swathe after swathe through the enemy, who reeled and baulked, caught completely off guard.

'That had been the plan Captain Dantian and I had made,' said Tathe. 'I felt my father would focus on me and the Elbyrans, especially as we managed to get closer and closer to the main tower, allowing the Sovrithians to move freely. It was a huge gamble as Dantian wasn't exactly the most agreeable of men, and we'd been in conflict earlier. He told me later he was tempted just to leave us to our fate, but he didn't. Thank the Emperor.'

'Thank Jelket, too,' said Karmen.

'Yes, my apologies, Karmen. Thank you, Jelket. You were a damn fine soldier, indeed.'

Enandra made the sign of the Aquila. 'I never regretted taking Jelket into my service. Despite his insecurities, his skills not being the greatest and his...strange beliefs. He had heart and never hesitated in his duties and always managed to somehow overcome the odds.'

'That he did,' said Karmen, nodding. 'That he did.'

'I know we might be skipping ahead,' said Enandra. 'But how did he die?'

Karmen flinched, and Tathe couldn't help glance at Attelus, who was keeping his eyes still strictly downcast.

This made Enandra's brow knot and her lips purse while Arlathan's and Vex's eyes widened.

'If you don't mind, mamzel Inquisitor,' said Karmen smoothly. 'We'll get to that later, my apologies.'

Tathe frowned and continued; he told of how the Sovrithians brought them supplies and that they heroically managed to hold the line against the hordes of Resurrected to allow the Elbyrans and the Throne Agents to have some much, much-needed rest.

Tathe stopped and looked at Attelus; he flinched and seemed to blink his blank eyes back to life and gain control of himself again.

'Y-yes, sorry,' he said. 'Uhh, the medicae servitors patched me back up in the Guncutter up in orbit. Uhh, it was touch and go, but I got through it. Healed up.'

'And how long did that take?' said Vex.

'Not long, you know I heal fast due to my enhanced metabolism,' said Attelus with a shrug. 'I wanted to go straight down and get back into the fight, but Adelana, she...'

His eyes widened for a split second before his face was back to normal. Karmen frowned; she couldn't remember Attelus mentioning anything about that during their planning for this.

'Adelana and Kalakor wanted to wait for a more opportune time to strike.'

'Wait,' said Arlathan. 'Her and Kalakor?'

'Yes,' said Kalakor; the sudden deep resonation from the Space Marine made Vex and Hadrel wince. 'I had sneaked onboard their ship when it had landed to rescue Attelus Kaltos and Adelana Helgen on the roof of that building. I showed myself to them and proposed this. Young Adelana Helgen saw the merit, but Attelus Kaltos had fell into the trap of over-sentimentality and wished to throw away a tactical advantage because he did not to risk his people's lives for much longer. An arrogant presumption and-'

'Yes, thank you, Kalakor,' sighed Attelus. 'I followed your advice eventually, didn't I?'

'That you did,' said Kalakor. 'But if you truly are the "pragmatist" you claim to be so often, you should have either thought of it yourself or agreed to it quicker.'

Attelus sighed again. 'Please, just let me continue for frig's sake. Or do you want to take over?'

'No, you may continue, now.'

Attelus grimaced but still started to tell of how he called Tathe, then his team, about Kalakor's plan and that he agreed with it. To hold him, Kalakor, Adelana and the Guncutter in reserve for only when it was the most necessary, and this were during the time the Elbyrans had their rest.

'How did you feel about this, Karmen?' said Enandra, and Karmen couldn't help grin; she hoped Enandra would ask that.

'We were too frigging tired to get upset by it much,' said Karmen. 'And I have to admit, Attelus gave us a not too bad "amazing, awe-inspiring speech". Hayden, he wasn't happy though, he left the conversation about halfway through it. I couldn't blame him, he had some points about Attelus, but his anger and bitterness were...disturbing. He truly believed he should have been placed in charge; his age, his experience both exceeded Attelus', which is true, but it was also because he's always been so good at everything that he would be passed over for something implied he isn't as good at something as he thought, which implied he was imperfect. Which is everyone, in reality, including him, and that's a reality he didn't have to face until then.' Attelus also not too subtly tried to lay the blame on Kalakor.

'An excellent psychological evaluation,' said Arlathan. 'That and the corruption of the world was getting to him.'

'That too,' said Enandra. 'That's probably the most important reason, and Karmen is trying to avoid mentioning it as she is about them and-'

'We aren't corrupted,' said Attelus.

Enandra, Karmen and Arlathan turned to him. Attelus glared down at them, his gloved fists at his sides.

'Oh?' said Enandra. 'How do you figure that?'

'Well, firstly, you probably wouldn't be in this room with us right now if you truly believed we were. Secondly, we managed to defeat the corruption, all of us, even Hayden.'

'Please do elaborate, Attelus.'

Attelus sighed. 'Because most of us chose humanity, we defeated the temptation of Chaos. We made sure not to go down the easy route. I...I also realised the real way to fight Chaos corruption.'

'Really?' said Enandra, and Karmen didn't like the condescension in her tone. 'And what's that?'

'This...this might come off as heresy to many, but it isn't hatred, it isn't faith in the Emperor, it isn't sheer willpower, it isn't even "The Armour of Contempt", although all those things can help. It's self-awareness. You must know yourself well enough to know when the corruption is making your flaws take over...No, "flaws" isn't the right word. Your worst parts of yourself is a better word. I saw that I was...being taken over by my uhh, tendency to be ruthless and to enjoy battle and the fight too much. My...murderous side, if I may be blunt. So much so, even Kalakor thought I was disturbed. I realised this and fought to take control of it, to rein it in, so to speak. Not let it consume me...utterly.'

'That's...interesting...' said Arlathan.

Attelus nodded. 'If I hadn't learned of that side of myself during my time on Omnartus and embraced it. It might've consumed me. Just like Hayden almost let his...bad side consume him.'

'If he let his "bad side" consume him, why do you think he isn't corrupted?' said Enandra.

'Hmm, two reasons,' said Attelus. 'First that he chose his humanity or was forced to choose which will be elaborated on later. The second...is that the Eldar vouched for him.'

Now that made Enandra's, Arlathan's, and Vex's eyes go so wide they seemed to bulge out of their sockets.

'The Eldar vouched for him?' said Enandra, almost through her teeth.

'Or, to be more precise, one Eldar, a warlock named Klrith,' said Attelus. 'They can sense corruption better than us, it's almost natural to them, but he was better than most. But he also said that Hayden can still potentially fall; that's one of the reasons why we've been keeping him confined to his quarters and-'

'Tell me, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, why should I believe the word of a duplicitous Eldar!' snapped Enandra.

'Because not all Eldar are like that,' said Attelus. 'Klrith is...alright. He used to hate mankind, but now he doesn't...as much, now. I trust him, isn't that enough? They helped us get to Sarkeath, didn't they?'

Enandra shrugged. 'That is all well and good, Attelus, but I do not know or have even met this Klrith. For all I know, this could be some far-reaching plan of theirs to pretend you aren't corrupted. That is what the Eldar do, damn it.'

'I can assure you they want to fight against Etuarq as much as we do.'

Enandra tilted her head. 'Do they? Do they now, Attelus? Then why in the Emperor's frigging name they let you and your team go down the Sarkeath alone?'

'Yes, but-'

'They're just using you, and you're too naive to see it!'

'I...believe they'll help next time I ask, I mean in a more militant way than just being glorified transportation service. They lost their Craftworld, and Farseer Faleaseen has been afraid to lose more of her people and that Etuarq would be able to steal their psychic souls to fuel his agenda faster.'

'Of course, she does. She'll give you every excuse in the damn book to make sure you dance on her strings.'

'It's true, I swear it, mamzel Inquisitor. I swear it. Faleaseen when she...She was at first going to use me as a pawn, but after Omnartus, I managed to earn her respect.'

Enandra rolled her eyes and looked to Karmen and Tathe. 'What do you two believe?'

'I...I think I believe them,' said Karmen. 'I think that Autarch Raloth Arlyandor genuinely wishes to extend a hand to us. To work with mankind for the benefit of both our species. Him and a few very liberal of his people we interacted with. I cannot speak for Faleaseen, though I have never met her. But Adelana and Torris will agree if you ask them if that means anything to you.'

'Of course, it means something to me,' said Enandra. She seemed hurt by this. 'I do intend to interview them after this as well.'

Karmen nodded. Over their time travelling, after Attelus' had talked to Kalakor, she and Warlock Klrith had been subtly changing the memories of all of the survivors to coincide with their "report". Vark had said that'd happen when they were travelling to Sarkeath, and, damn it, he was right. Karmen hoped the false memories would hold up to any probing by that bitch Selva. But she'd watched Klrith work, and he was the most deft and skilled psyker she'd ever seen.

It made Karmen think of the daemon's words yet again.

'Alright,' said Enandra after a few seconds of consideration, then she looked at Tathe.

'What do you think, Commissar?'

'I'm sorry, mamzel Inquisitor, but I didn't interact much with any of the Eldar, so my opinion isn't worth much. I can tell you it took me a while to get used to, most of the time I'd just been killing them, well, except for one time...' But they did pick us up from that accursed world and many of them I spoke to during our time travelling with them were polite enough.

Tathe's eyes glazed over, making everyone look at him.

'Except for one time?' said Enandra.

'Never mind,' said Tathe. 'I can tell you about that. Let's just say it was the time I got this...'

Tathe raised his augmetic hand in a fist.

'Hmm, interesting, yes,' said Attelus. 'I never read in the records of you having a more peaceful encounter with the Eldar, commissar. How that happened was omitted from the reports. I would like to know, especially.'

'Me as well,' said Karmen. 'Anyway, continue your report, please, Attelus.'

'Of course,' said Attelus. 'Our plan to the wait in orbit came to an end when daemonic fighter ships started to emerge from the warp and came after us and, it was incredible. Darrance was amazing as a pilot. They shot at us with missiles which he used Sarkeath's atmosphere to blow up. But then a bunch of enemies teleported on the ship in our cargo bay, and Kalakor, Adelana and myself had to fight them off. It was...'

'Fun?' said Enandra.

'I've got to admit it was,' said Attelus, not bothering to hide a smile. 'Once we'd killed them, Darrance really pulled out the stops, and he destroyed the daemonic craft by dropping a building on them.'

'That's...impressive,' said Arlathan.

'Yeah, he lured them by flying through it. I've never been so terrified in my life,' said Attelus.

'I bet,' said Enandra.

'While that was happening...' said Tathe; he then described how the Elbyrans and the Sovrithians finally began to push over the lip of the blood sands hill and towards the tower. How there they suffered far too many casualties, despite Karmen's kine-shield. But the enemy suffered much, much more, morale was up, and their blood boiled.

Until a frigging Bloodthirster emerged from the huge main entrance of the tower and the report of enemy ships bearing down on them.

'By then, we'd just managed to arrive on time,' said Attelus. 'Darrance destroyed the enemy ships and went up against the Bloodthirster. Dodging its whip, which seemed to stretch out for the ship while firing the lascannons into it over and over, but they didn't seem to do anything. Until I got an idea, a typically insane idea.'

'What was that?'

Attelus exchanged a smile with Karmen. 'I told Darrance to try to get above the Bloodthirster, but that was incredibly easier said than done as he weathered attack after attack from the daemon, so...'

'I saw what was going on,' said Tathe. 'So I asked Karmen to try to hold back the Bloodthirster with her telekinesis.'

Everyone turned to Karmen then.

'I am presuming you managed this nigh impossible feat because all of you are still alive and telling us about this?' said Enandra.

Karmen felt pride blaze inside her chest. 'I did, the effort made me use all of my strength, blackout, and it was only for a few seconds, but I managed it, somehow. It prevented me from protecting many soldiers, but it was worth it as it helped Darrance fly above the daemon.'

'I didn't know it was her at the time, but Kalakor and I took advantage of the opening. We leapt out of the airlock and, using the momentum of our falls, cut through the Bloodthirster's wings, making it fall back to the ground. Kalakor rode it down while I used a grav-chute.'

'I saw all of it,' said Tathe. 'It was one of the most spectacular things I've ever witnessed.'

Attelus frowned. 'Awww, not the most spectacular? That's a bit disappointing, in all honesty.'

Tathe shrugged. 'I've been in the guard for decades, now. I've seen a lot of things.'

'What the frig happened next?' said Vex. He seemed now utterly enamoured in the story.

Attelus shared another glance with Karmen, this was where another lie was coming up, and they had to play this just right. Then they both looked to Kalakor.

'I held off the daemon after we hit the ground,' said the Marine, taking the floor smoothly. 'The Greater Daemon's fall disconcerted the Resurrected, damaging their morale. It was also injured somewhat by the fall, I was unable to fight it, but I managed to evade its blow as they flew my way like, rain. Attelus eventually managed to join me soon, which took some pressure off me.'

'As this was happening, my remaining soldiers and I were fighting our way to the entrance, taking advantage of the stunned enemy to advance as fast as we could,' said Tathe. 'Mr Darrance and the Guncutter stayed above us, protecting us from the enemy ships flying in to shoot us. Karmen, Torris, Halsin, Delathasi, Jelket and Helma decided to go help Attelus and Kalakor.'

'Adelana, because of the suggestion of Darrance, left the Guncutter and gravchuted to the ground,' said Karmen. 'She was going to land amongst the hordes of the Resurrected, so I pulled her to us with the last of my strength.'

'That's good,' said Arlathan. 'That's good of you.'

Karmen looked at the Interrogator, trying to find any condescension in his tone and face, but she found none. He knew more than anyone how she felt about little Adelana as they had confided with each other about their frustrations over the years. Arlathan with Enandra, Karmen with Attelus. For a while, Karmen and Arlathan been lovers, frigging each other almost in a way that was an outlet rather than much else. There was a mutual attraction; Arlathan was a damn handsome man even with his beard, which Karmen had never found men with facial hair that attractive. Although it was a nice one, he grew it because Enandra had expressed she liked it.

After months of frigging behind everyone's back, Karmen and Arlathan seemed to drift apart, as if they'd got out their frustration then. But ever since they'd been close as friends, using each other as sounding boards for things, they didn't dare tell anyone else. Karmen had grown to respect him immensely over the years. Despite all of the evidence to the contrary, Arlathan had turned out to be a frigging excellent Interrogator. He'd come a long way from the sleazy, cowardly Magistratum detective she'd met, then verbally tore apart back on Omnartus.

Karmen looked away from Arlathan and to Kalakor.

'As Attelus and I evaded the daemon's attacks,' said Kalakor, 'Attelus and the Bloodthirster then just abruptly disappeared.'

'Just...abruptly disappeared?' said Vex.

'Indeed,' said Kalakor. 'How many times must I re-iterate that it penetrates through the thick, wide landscape you call a forehead.'

Attelus snorted, and Vex's jaw dropped.

'Anyway,' said Enandra as she seemed to fight to keep from smiling. 'They disappeared? How?'

'Sorcery,' said Karmen. 'We earlier mentioned the god of change was involved. This was one of its contributions to the war. We managed to reach Kalakor not long after the daemon's and Attelus' disappearances.'

'So, where'd you disappear to, Attelus?' said Arlathan.

Attelus shrugged. 'To some white void of nothingness, trapped there with the Bloodthirster, but we are going ahead a bit.'

Attelus then looked at Tathe.

'Vark and Hayden decided to come with us,' said Tathe. 'They wanted to leave Attelus and Kalakor to their fate with the Bloodthirster.'

'Did you too wish to leave him?' said Enandra.

'Yes,' said Tathe. 'I was too focused on getting to the tower. I was...almost falling into it, mamzel. I'm not ashamed to admit it. If it wasn't for Dellenger, my best friend, I probably would've too. He made me see that I was losing my humanity. As Attelus had said, the true way to fight corruption is to know yourself, know your negative traits, your darkness so you can see when it's taking you over. I didn't have that self-awareness. It was Dellenger who pulled me out of that darkness. It prevented me from becoming like my father. Kept me from rendering Adreen's sacrifice and all of the men and women's sacrifices under my command worthless.'

Enandra nodded. 'Sometimes the end does not justify the means, and I cannot believe you are being so open about your potential corruption, commissar.'

'I only tell it so openly because I am so certain that my actions speak loud enough to get rid of any doubt of my purity.'

Enandra studied him for a good while before nodding ever so slightly. 'And you have truly embraced the purpose of this war.'

'I have, and so have all the men and women who have chosen to come with us back to the Calixis Sector. And we are soldiers of the Imperial Guard. Our oaths to the Emperor and the Imperium of Mankind are more binding than anything else in this vast galaxy, mamzel Inquisitor. By coming here, by risking our deaths at the behest of the hardline and infamous Inquisition, I think this proves how seriously we take this purpose of yours.'

Tathe waved his hand at Attelus and Karmen. 'Of there's and-'

'You do know, good commissar, that over the millennia, too many soldiers of the Imperial Guard to count have broken their oaths,' said Enandra. 'Too many have turned their backs on the Emperor and the Imperium of Mankind, whether to serve the ruinous powers or Xenos...'

When she said Xenos, she gave Attelus the slightest of glances, but he didn't baulk, which Karmen couldn't help be impressed by.

'I would argue, mamzel Inquisitor. Those traitors were not true guardsmen, and I would know, I have been a commissar for many decades now.'

Enandra barked a laugh. 'Yes, I suppose you would know you are a commissar and a well known and effective one at that. But your proclamation speaks of arrogance, Tathe.'

Tathe shrugged. 'I suppose it could, but it isn't. This is me making a statement, mamzel. It is truth, this I swear.'

Karmen couldn't help gape and share a look with Attelus. None of that they'd rehearsed; Karmen shouldn't have been surprised; he was famous for his oratory skill.

Smiling, Enandra sat back in her chair and placed her palms behind her head. 'I see...I understand what you say, but you must be aware that you are using a logical fallacy-'

'The "No True Scotireman fallacy,"' said Kalakor.

'That's it,' said Enandra. 'Although, we have another term for it.'

Tathe's eyes narrowed. 'What does that mean?'

Enandra sighed. 'Never mind. Despite that fallacy, I find I cannot help agreeing with you. Anyway, please continue with your novel-length story.'

Kalakor nodded. This was a time to lie. 'It was then that Serghar Kaltos and his people appeared seemingly from nowhere and Serghar Kaltos used a ritual knife, what he called an athame to pierce the veil allowing us entrance into the...realm that Attelus Kaltos and the Bloodthirster fought inside-'

'Wait,' said Enandra. 'Why did Serghar Kaltos suddenly decide to help you?'

'Because Attelus' survival was intrinsic to his mission,' said Kalakor. 'And with that strange knife, he claimed he could get rid of the Bloodthirster, and he needed our aid to do it.'

'And you trusted him?' said Arlathan, and Karmen had never heard his voice so high-pitched before. Good, that was what they wanted.

Kalakor nodded. 'We had no choice, so we and his agents fought off the enemy as Serghar sliced a hole through the wall of reality.'

'So, what was this knife? How did it work?' said Enandra, she seemed to bleed frustration, but Karmen wasn't sure why. Was it the fact that she seemed ignorant of something for once? Or at their co-operation with Serghar Kaltos? Or she could tell they were...twisting the truth?

Kalakor shrugged. 'I do not know, some foul sorcery of a kind beyond me, that is the purview of the Holy Ordos, is it not?'

'Not mine, I assure you, Sergeant,' said Enandra. 'I have never heard of such a weapon before an "athame", was it? Our enemy has summoned daemonic beings and caused the deaths of billions and brought back people from the dead, and I should not be surprised they make use of such...esoteric items.'

Karmen fought back a smile, and it seemed Enandra had believed him.

Hopefully.

Enandra looked to Attelus. 'And what in the Emperor's name was happening to you while this was going on? You weren't seriously fighting a Bloodthirster all this while alone?'

Attelus' pale face went bright red as his attention fell to the floor, and he shuffled his foot, how frigging childish. 'I wouldn't say "fighting", mamzel Enandra. It was more like me constantly dodging it as it attacked again and again and again. So I wasn't fighting it, that'd imply-'

'Yes, Attelus, just shut up with your damned semantics,' said Enandra.

'How. In. The Golden Throne did you manage that?' said Arlathan.

'Dodging, darting, ducking, weaving, all of the adjectives along those lines. Just constant desperate as frig dodging, Arlathan. I have no idea how long I did that, It could've been a few hours or a few seconds, but I'd never done more evasive manoeuvres in my life. Perhaps I did more evasive manoeuvres than all of my other fights combined. The Bloodthirster's reach and speed made it utterly impossible for me to take even a single step forwards.'

'So, is that the only reason it went to the effort to pull you into that sub-dimension?' said Enandra. 'To fight you and kill you?'

Attelus pursed his red lips and shrugged in his childish way. 'Perhaps? I don't know, in all honesty, mamzel Enandra. It never spoke to me. I don't understand the ways and reasons of daemons.'

That was another lie. The Bloodthirster had asked Attelus to pledge his soul to the blood god in exchange for enough "power" to defeat his father. Attelus had obviously refused much to Karmen's pride, but they didn't want the Inquisitor to know that Attelus had the interest of one of the most powerful of Khorne's servants. It made sense due to his...more bloodthirsty side he has to keep control of. But if Farseer Faleaseen didn't have his soul, would he have even been able to refuse?

Karmen fought a smile, Attelus' lie was without any hint of falsehood, just the exact right amount of eye contact and everything that was because he was adhering to the philosophy of "the best way to lie is, to tell the truth" as he truly didn't understand the ways of daemons, that was the purview of the Chaos corrupted and insane, or at least they believed it was. But also, he seemed better at it than before, his encounter with Inquisitor Draven had taught him something it seemed, even though he could act like a child, he was always learning from his experiences, especially from his mistakes which were now far too many to count.

Although, the state of Attelus' sanity was highly questionable. And so was Karmen's too, now she thought about it. But such an impeccable lie might not be enough against Enandra as she knew and followed said philosophy.

Karmen looked to Enandra; her face was unreadable as she stared at Attelus with her large, wizened eyes that gave away her true age despite her regular and extensive rejuvenant procedures. That was something Karmen and Enandra had in common. When Karmen was named Estella Erith, she too was vain enough to begin rejuvenant in her early twenties, effectively freezing them at that age. But eventually, no matter how many times you have your treatments, you'll eventually be brought down by the ravages of time as the decades fly by like an Eldar star-ship phasing and slicing through the void. She couldn't help envy Attelus for his supposed immortality, but in his case, it seemed more a curse than anything else.

'Well, you don't,' said Enandra, finally breaking the silence, and Karmen had to fight from flinching. 'And I understand your ignorance, but you should know more than anyone that you must "know your enemy", Attelus Kaltos. So, you have to find a way to learn why the daemon wanted you dead so much, the and attention ire from such a beast is very much beyond important, I cannot emphasise that enough, understood?'

Karmen forced down a relieved sigh as Attelus nodded so fast his long, brown hair writhed and whipped out into Karmen's face.

'Y-yes, mamzel.'

Enandra studied Attelus for a good few seconds more before looking back to Kalakor. 'May I guess what occurred next, Lord Astartes?'

'Go ahead, mamzel Inquisitor.'

Enandra smiled, which was thin despite her magnificently full lips, before looking back to Attelus. 'I am guessing that Attelus was driven far and beyond his limits, and a split-second before the Bloodthirster killed him, he was saved. By who, though?'

'It was my father,' said Attelus. 'Then he, Kalakor, Delathasi and his agents excluding...excluding Elandria charged the Bloodthirster. They held it at bay as...Elandria used the athame to open another portal, this one into the tower itself.'

That was another lie, and another lie Attelus delivered impeccably. It was Kalakor who opened the portal, and the Elandria-thing took part in fighting the Bloodthirster.

'I...I must commend Delathasi for showing such incredible courage,' said Attelus. 'She didn't hesitate, mamzel Enandra. Three years ago, as an apprentice, like a coward, I'd run in terror from just a frigging Arco Flaggelant, but she'd faced down one of the most terrifying and dangerous creatures in this galaxy and fought it like a bastard.'

Enandra shrugged. 'You did...but you weren't pumped up with combat drugs, and you did overcome your fear and face it, did you not? You saved all of those innocent Imperial citizens. So, do not beat yourself up too much. But I agree, that is impressive, incredibly impressive.'

'I suggest she is permanently employed into our organisation, mamzel Enandra. Darrance her m'

'Oh, really?' said Enandra. 'Well, alright. If you wish to ask the Blades of Vengeance for her permanent transfer, tell them you have my backing. But I must inform you. If I were another Inquisitor, I would likely have you killed, all of you, for merely being in a near proximity of such a creature.'

Attelus shrugged. 'I am aware your friend Inquisitor Draven would very likely be one of those.'

'I am confused about that,' said Enandra. 'You arrive in the Scintilla system in his ship and him inside of one a cell. That's...quite incredible. He was working in Askellon Sector, wasn't he?'

She trailed off in her sentence. 'As much as I would like to hear how you managed to defeat and humiliate that arsehole so entirely, we should continue on the subject at hand. What happened next?'

'Torris,' said Attelus. 'It was Marcel "frigging" Torris frigging stepped up, mamzel Enandra. He, with his meltagun, perfectly timed a shot through the melee. A shot that hit the daemon square in the chest, hurting a gak ton and making it fall to its misshapen knees.'

Enandra grinned and pumped her fist. 'Excellent! That's excellent! Great job, Marcel! What were you doing while this was happening, Attelus? You and Karmen and the others?'

'I...vomited all over myself,' said Attelus. 'Adelana was with me. She was concerned to hell and back. Verenth and Halsin were helping me stand. The exertion destroyed me. I couldn't move at all. Karmen was too exhausted to do anything, drained of her power as well.'

'I understand. You did excellently, Attelus. Hmm,' Enandra looked at Kalakor, her eyes narrowing. 'And you were fighting against the daemon alongside the Bloodthirster? After its defeat, what did you do?'

'I retreated, carrying the exhausted Delathasi as Serghar Kaltos finished it with the athame, using my invisibility while they were distracted.'

'Why didn't you fight them?'

'They were formidable, most especially Serghar Kaltos and all wielded power weapons. The overall mission at hand was too important for me to die there. Not as of then, anyway. Especially because they were not.'

'How...pragmatic,' said Enandra as she gave Attelus and Karmen glances, which caused Karmen to frown. Why did she look at me? 'From what little I know of your chapter, the Raven Guard, it does sound like a tactic they would approve of.'

'Of course, mamzel Inquisitor, us and our successor The Raptors, them especially. Victory is all that matters, and that is that.'

'Indeed,' said Enandra. 'In the name of the Emperor and His Imperium of Mankind.'

'Indeed,' said Kalakor with a slight nod.

'Enandra looked back to Attelus. 'And you were aware that the reason why your father saved you and defeated the daemon was so you lived on for his machinations?'

'I was...' said Attelus. 'Well, I'd forgotten, in all honesty. Too busy fighting to breathe and vomiting to remember much or think straight.'

'But yet you and everyone else went through the portal created for you at your father's behest?'

Attelus and Karmen shared looks, and Attelus replied, 'Yeah, we did.'

'Yeah, we did...?'

'Yeah, we did, Mamzel Enandra.'

'That's better, Attelus Kaltos. You can make all the excuses in the galaxy, young man. But there must be more, something beside the need to defeat general Tathe driving you so blindly into the enemy's agenda. What was that something else? Please do enlighten me, Attelus.'

Attelus sighed and folded his arms, they'd known this question would come and this part they'd rehearsed and planned out more than anything else. Karmen just prayed he didn't frig it up.

'Mamzel Enandra,' said Attelus. 'Have you heard of something called a Perpetual?'

'I cannot say I have. I would ask you what that is, but you mentioning it, I assume, means you are about to tell me, anyway.'

Attelus nodded, he looked nervous, and Karmen couldn't blame him. 'It's an immortal, someone or something that can die but it's...temporary and Farseer Faleaseen had hinted that our enemy former Inquisitor Etuarq with all of his power could be one and-'

'And what? What does that have to do with it?'

'I was just about to get to that part, Mamzel. I learned from my father that there was a sword, a sword somehow hidden in the top of the main tower by some sorcery millennia ago. It was a daemon weapon named The Sword of Kalncerak or Kalncerak, or whatever it was called. And that it ate souls. So, I thought...'

Sudden anger blazed in Enandra's eyes. 'So you thought what, Attelus? So you frigging thought what?'

'I thought...if Inquisitor Etuarq was a perpetual-'

Enandra stood and slammed her palms on the table, causing all of the cups and cutlery to shake. 'You fool! You little fool! A daemon weapon? You considered using a daemon weapon!'

Attelus didn't reply, his eyes becoming plastered on the floor.

Enandra stared at him, but the anger in her eyes slipped away and seemed to be replaced with shining sadness, and she shook her head.

'Attelus...I know you're pragmatic, but that's just taking it too far. Consorting with Xenos is one thing, but...'

Enandra drained off in her sentence, rolled her eyes and sighed. 'This is my fault, isn't it? I encouraged you to do what must be done for victory. The ends justifies the means...But as we have established sometimes, it doesn't, such as sacrificing our souls to Chaos! You should know this, Attelus! And you were considering doing it in one of the most spectacular ways one can! And not just that, but wasn't it obvious your father was manipulating you? That your retrieval of that sword of whatever the frig it was called as part of their agenda?'

'You see why I said I shouldn't have been put in charge of this mission, now?' said Attelus.

Enandra rubbed her eyes and shook her head. 'I think I am, Attelus. I think I am. It was you, wasn't it, Attelus? You killed Jelket, Vark, Verenth and Helma? You became ensnared by that daemon sword's influence, didn't you?'

Attelus winced but kept his attention downcast, and Karmen frowned. She didn't expect Enandra would guess it so fast; she should have realised it. Enandra was an Inquisitor and an incredibly skilled one at that. Karmen couldn't help but think back, back to their time in the Audacious Edge after they were rescued from Omnartus when Attelus said that they just so happened to be hired by an Inquisitor like Enandra seemed too good to be true. After everything, Karmen could see his point, she saw it a long time ago, but that'd been for Etuarq's plans. But now, now it seemed the machinations of something else, especially after her encounter with the Tzeentchian daemon on Omnartus.

'You are correct, mamzel Inquisitor,' said Tathe. 'But young Attelus Kaltos didn't kill Vark.'

Enandra shot her hard gaze to the commissar. 'Then who or what did, then?'

'I did,' said Tathe. 'And it needed to be done.'

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Tathe held his eyes with the Inquisitor's; he could tell she was used to people blanching under her scrutiny, such as that young fool, Attelus Kaltos. Still, Tathe had faced down worse things in the galaxy than an angry Inquisitor. And he'd faced down a few of those as well. For a second, he couldn't help but admire Enandra's beauty, her flawless dark skin like the highest quality re-caff. Her damn amazing, wide, wisdom-laden brown eyes.

'Pray tell, Commissar, why your...killing of one of my Throne Agents "needed to be done"?'

'Because he was slipping, mamzel,' said Tathe, his brain bashing back into reality. 'It occurred during the time the young Attelus and the others were fighting the Bloodthirster. I think now it's a good time to rewind the timeline a bit.'

Enandra leaned back in her chair and whipped out her hand dismissively. 'Yes, yes, go ahead.'

Tathe nodded; he more than empathised with the Inquisitor's exasperation. 'We fought our way towards the tower as this happened. The enemy was demoralised by the falling of the Bloodthirster and its disappearance, or I supposed it was the case as they'd lost so much fight since its fall, then Adreen revealed herself among the Resurrected. She was restored to her beautiful young self, and I shot her through the head, didn't hesitate. I saw it as the manipulation tactic it was, and my anger at such a...use of the woman I loved angered me, enraged me beyond anything I've ever felt before.'

'Of course, it did,' said Enandra, and Tathe didn't quite know what to make of her tone; it seemed both sympathetic and sad but sad in a strange way. 'I am sorry you were forced to do that, but it was the right thing to do...'

The Inquisitor trailed off in her sentence, but Tathe knew she wanted to say something along the lines of "even if it was because of the corruption within you."

Tathe cleared his throat and continued. 'Above us, Darrance and the Guncutter fought off the enemy craft, and just before we managed to enter, he became overwhelmed, and the Guncutter was shot down.'

'And obviously, Saderth Darrance managed to eject beforehand?' said Enandra. 'And that is why he is still alive? Unless he was killed and came back because he's one of those immortal perpetuals Attelus mentioned.'

Enandra turned to Attelus. 'That brings us back to the question, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos. Why did you believe so fast in a concept so...strange that you went to get a daemon weapon?'

Attelus shrugged. 'I was stupid, idiotic, I know. I have just seen things, mamzel. Seen too many things that in this horrid galaxy that an immortal human seems pretty, uhh...'

'Normal?' said Karmen. 'In comparison, anyway.'

Tathe smiled; say what you will about the boy, but his acting was damn on-point.

'In comparison, yes,' said Attelus. 'And my paranoia, mamzel. With just an even small chance, Etuarq is one it had to be assumed that he is. How much power has he accumulated, mamzel? How much has he learned in ways beyond any of us with that power? Please, mamzel, Inquisitor, you have to see my logic here.'

Enandra pursed her wonderful lips, folded her arms, and then looked back to Tathe. 'So, you entered the tower. What happened next, Commissar?'

'We ran into the lobby,' said Tathe. 'And there we found...people, the locals. They had taken shelter in there.'

'What?' said Enandra, as her brow furrowed.

Tathe shrugged. 'I cannot overstate how surprised I was. How surprised all of us were.'

With Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra in the room, most other people seemed to fade into the background. 'It had to be some trick by the frigging Arch Enemy.' 'A trick,' said Arlathan and Tathe fought the urge to flinch, having forgotten about the Interrogator entirely until then.

'It was, Interrogator. Or a "test". to those locals, they'd only been in the foyer for about an hour after the beginning of the invasion.'

'Time dilation?' said Arlathan. 'How? Why?'

'It turned out later we'd been trapped inside a small dimension thing,' said Tathe.

'Pocket dimension,' said Kalakor.

'A pocket dimension, that's it, Kalakor, thank you. Like the one Attelus and the others were trapped inside, but it seemed like the main foyer of the tower. My father spoke again over the vox network, saying we had to kill the civilians there. If we are to escape the place before all of us starved to death, we'd have to slaughter all of the uncorrupted civilians. He'd hoped we'd just kill them straight away due to thinking them corrupted and...our compromised mindsets. And almost all of us argued to kill them, both Tresch and Vark included, but Dellenger and I stepped in their way. We knew what would happen if we murdered the civilians...'

'I see...' said Enandra, her eyes glaring up at Tathe, but what that glare meant, he could only guess. 'Then what happened?'

Tathe sighed. 'I performed a summary execution on the one most vocal about murdering the civvies.'

'And I am presuming that was Vark,' said Enandra; she sounded weary or bored, Tathe wasn't sure.

'It was.'

'Then it was not a "summary execution" as Vark was my agent, not a part of the Imperial Guard and thus, not under your charge.'

'I beg to differ, mamzel. He and the others were placed under my command by Attelus Kaltos before the battle started. So it was, in a technical sense, Vark was acting as my vox operator in my new command squad.'

Enandra's gaze shot to Attelus. 'Is this true? Did you pawn off your leadership responsibility to Commissar Tathe?'

Attelus furrowed his brow in what seemed confusion. 'Of course, mamzel Enandra. Commissar Tathe needed a command squad, and we were going into a big battle. So, of course, I gave him command of my people and me. I have no experience in large-scale battle command.'

'Yes, but he could've been corrupted. I can't believe you trusted him so much already, even if he and his regiment were your childhood idols.'

Attelus folded his arms across his chest and shrugged. 'Perhaps, but I had no choice if we were going to complete our mission. Which we did, didn't we? I'd say the ends justifies the means, in this case, anyway.'

Enandra clenched her teeth. 'No wonder Glaitis lost her damned mind when she had to deal with this.'

The young man looked away and pursed his lips. 'Either way, it's the truth, mamzel, and the truth can't be denied. Not even by an Inquisitor.'

'Is it, Attelus Kaltos? Is it the truth? How do I know you aren't lying through your teeth about everything?'

'Does it seem like I'm lying?'

'No.'

'Do you think I'd be able to lie so well to get past your scrutiny?'

'No, not unless you somehow believe your lies. Or...'

'Or?'

'Or you somehow managed to become so good at lying during your time away you've managed to surpass me.'

That set Tathe's teeth on edge.

Attelus shook his head, his face becoming unreadable again. 'You don't believe that, do you?'

Tathe looked back to Jelcine Enandra; she glared at the young assassin. Tathe fought the urge to reach for his sword. This was it, Enandra seemed quite down-to-terra and humble for her kind, but according to Attelus and Karmen, that was somewhat of a false exterior, that beneath was an arrogance that burned strong and bright. Just not as strong and as bright as most of her kin.

Enandra's jaw twitched, and Tathe swore he could hear her teeth grinding together. It was a good long while before she finally spoke.

'I have been an Inquisitor for a good long while, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, far before you were born. You are the greatest warrior in my service, and you have infinite potential. But no, I do not believe you managed to accomplish such a feat.'

Tathe fought back a smile, and there was the trademark arrogance they'd hoped for.

'But if I find out you somehow managed to lie to me...'

Enandra let her sentence hang with the obvious implication.

'Yes, of course, mamzel,' said Attelus with no hint of irony, which Tathe couldn't help be impressed by.

The Inquisitor's horribly piercing gaze fixated on Attelus for a good few seconds more before she looked back to Tathe.

'So, what happened next, Delan?'

Tathe blinked at the almost...intimate use of his first name, she wasn't exactly being subtle, and he managed to ignore the glare from her Interrogator and continued on. 'I must be honest. I thanked my luck that it was Vark. He was an outsider; if I had to execute a Velrosian or a Marangerite or a Sovrithian, that might've pushed my men over the edge.'

'Yes, I bet you did,' said Enandra.

'I had to, mamzel Inquisitor, they were going to give their souls to Chaos. It had to be done.'

She didn't reply, just flicked out her hand for him to keep speaking.

Tathe cleared his throat. 'It worked. They stood down, thank the Emperor. But it wasn't long before my father's voice came from the speaker that if we do not kill those innocent people...then the walls, everything, began to close in on us.'

'By the Emperor,' breathed Arlathan.

'So you shot those people and left, then?' said Vex.

Tathe shook his head. 'No, I had everyone stand in the middle of the foyer, and we sang.'

'You...sang?' said Arlathan as he straightened in his chair.

'We did. We had faith that Attelus Kaltos and the others would save us before we'd be crushed to death.'

'That'd be one of the most hideous ways to die I could imagine,' said Arlathan. 'Did you eventually give in and kill them?'

'We didn't. We were released before the desperation overtook us, which on hindsight, I think would've been inevitable.'

Enandra looked at Attelus. 'How were they freed, Attelus? Did you kill general Tathe, and that freed them from the...pocket dimension?'

The young Throne Agent shook his head in his childish, overeager way. 'Nope, the general did it himself.'

Enandra raised her eyebrows and tilted her head. 'He did, did he?'

'Before we get to that, we should continue from after we stepped from that portal,' said Karmen.

'I suppose that makes sense,' said Enandra. 'So continue onwards from there, Karmen Kons.'

The psyker cleared her throat, and Tathe kept his gaze on her; he couldn't help but wonder what kind of person she'd be if it weren't for the invasion of their home world. Tathe had fought in that war along with the Velrosian 1st against the Tzeentchian invaders. The Elbyran Contingent just so having to be close enough to aid Elbyra in time as they'd fought off a Chaos rebellion on a nearby horrid little feudal world named Victrous, so gakky Tathe understood why so many people turned to Chaos and rebelled. Tathe was beginning to think that might not be a coincidence anymore.

But why would something or someone want the Elbyran contingent there too? He'd also fought alongside the 5th company of the Dark Angels Space Marine chapter led by an affable Company Master named Remiel, did that...thing want them there too?

Tathe shook himself back to reality. Tathe was becoming like Attelus Kaltos, overthinking things. Was that because he'd become a Throne Agent? Or soon to be one, if this goes according to their plan.

'We stepped out,' said Karmen. 'Led by Kalakor, who took point. We found ourselves in a corridor leading to the tower's main public foyer. We approached it, Kalakor stepping out. First, he then looked down in the foyer, turned back to us and said we had to see this. So we came out and froze at what we saw...'

'And what was it?' growled Enandra as she swivelled in her seat, seeming more annoyed at Karmen's dramatic pause than drawn in by it.

'A big, swirling ball of blue light. But it somehow didn't give off any light.'

'And I'm going to guess, inside of it was Commissar Tathe and his men?' sighed Enandra.

'Yeah,' said Attelus. 'Then Kalakor looked back at me, raised his bolter and opened fire. The bolt round flew right by my head and exploded on the psychic shield of a daemon of...that god.'

Enandra's eyes narrowed. 'What god, Attelus Kaltos?'

He pursed his lips. 'You know...that I don't like to say their names or even think about them. It's the one that has the daemons with the wings, and they use psychic powers and feathers. You know. I wish I never learned their damned names in the first place, in all honesty.'

'Tzeentch?' said Enandra, causing Attelus to flinch and cover his ears. 'I admire that paranoia, Attelus, but I think you're giving them too much power with such...uncharacteristic superstition. But we've talked on this subject before, and I suspect I will not be able to change it if I try again. So, this daemon, what happened with it? It seems both Khorne and Tzeentch were working together in this scenario, very interesting.'

'Indeed,' said Karmen, now she seemed annoyed; Tathe couldn't help but think it was because the spotlight wasn't on her anymore. 'The daemon spoke, said we'd have to fight it to get to the elevators behind it, so we opened fire with everything we had, but it just mocked us for "using violence" for everything. Then, hypocritically mind you, began summoning these weird, squat daemons, some blue, some smaller and pink. The blue ones would split into two pink ones when we killed one. They threw daemonic fireballs at us. I barely managed to bring up my kine shield in time to allow us to take cover.'

'I know what those daemons are,' said Enandra. 'Blue Horrors and Pink Horrors, they are the equivalent to Bloodletters, meaning they are for want of a better word the uhh foot troops of...'

She looked slowly at Attelus deliberately; Tathe would've smiled if he wasn't so nervous. 'Tzeentch!'

Attelus flinched again and looked away.

In truth, Kalakor had told the others the names of those daemons, and Tathe already knew due to Dellenger telling him, but they didn't want to reveal even that.

'They wouldn't just split,' said Karmen. 'But the daemon just kept summoning more and more and more and more.'

'That's gak, so, obviously, you managed to defeat the daemon and its servants,' said Arlathan, sounding much like his master. 'Or at least I hope so, so, how'd you manage it?'

'Attelus here,' said Karmen, looking at him with a playful smirk, 'being the hypocrite he is, used some of Delathasi's Combat Drugs.'

'He did, huh?' said Arlathan. 'I'm not surprised. It was a foolish principle in the first place. That didn't save you completely, though, did it?'

'No,' said Karmen. 'It just allowed him to charge forwards and slaughter many of those...horrors which took the pressure off the rest of us. So we managed to focus fire on the daemon's kine-shield, weakening it enough to allow me to tear it down with my telekinesis, which in turn allowed Attelus to take the head off its shoulders. Although, I was not able to witness that as the extreme effort caused me to lose consciousness.'

Enandra straightened abruptly in her chair. 'You managed that, Karmen? Really? That is...impressive. Incredibly impressive, perhaps even more impressive than when you held back that Bloodletter outside the tower. Especially after the horrid exertion of that action must have weakened you.'

Tathe couldn't say anything; he never expected the Inquisitor would be so open and passionate in her praise. He just hoped Enandra's awe would distract her from asking more pointed questions. The truth was that Kalakor wanted Karmen to distract the daemon, to allow him to use his reality phasing power to teleport behind the daemon and kill it inside its shield. Still, in her stubbornness and spitefulness, Karmen decided she'd pull down the shield herself, and somehow she managed it. Which, on hindsight, now was a good thing.

'Thank you, mamzel Inquisitor. I only serve Him on Terra.'

'As do we all,' said Enandra.

'But then, what?' said Arlathan, who seemed more awed than anyone.

'The main doors behind is opened, and the Resurrected poured inside,' said Karmen. 'So, mostly everyone stayed to hold them off except for Kalakor and Attelus, who began up the tower to take care of General Tathe.'

'That must have been a gak ton of stairs,' said Vex.

'It was, but as an Astartes, it was easy,' said Kalakor, the sudden eruption of his deep voice causing everyone except for Enandra to flinch. 'I am sure it would have been impossible for a little runt like you.'

Vex shrugged. 'I'm not as runty as I look, believe it or not, but yeah, probably. My mind is my greatest weapon, not my physicality.'

'Anyway, maybe we should get back to the Commissar's narrative here,' said Enandra, and she looked at him. 'Tell me, why did you murder my Throne Agent?'

Tathe couldn't help frowning his lips, he didn't murder that frig-head Vark, but he pushed past his anger.

'Your...Throne Agent...mamzel Inquisitor was, by and far, the most vocal proponent in favour of killing the civilians, the second being your other Throne Agent Tresch. We tried to warn them that by killing these people, it would render all our struggle pointless as we'd be selling our souls to Chaos in that act. They wouldn't listen, so I had no choice, I had to take control, so I drew my laspistol and shot Vark between the eyes. It worked. You can ask Dellenger, Hayden and the others, and they will corroborate my account, mamzel Inquisitor.'

'Then what did you do?' said Arlathan.

'As I said, I had everyone sing. I gathered them all in the middle of the room, and we sang as the walls. The very air seemed to close in on us.'

'We Are The Imperium,' Tathe muttered, pompous overly patriotic songs like that were mostly to his distaste, but he couldn't think of a better song at the time. 'I made sure to sing a song the civilians would also know and well known enough that people in the Gothic Sector would know it, and luckily, they did.'

Enandra said nothing; she just looked at Tathe wearily for a few seconds before turning to Attelus.

'So, while this was going on, what were you and the Space Marine doing?'

Attelus couldn't help but grin. 'Well, mamzel Enandra. As Vex so ingeniously guessed, running up a gak-ton of stairs.'

Enandra rolled her eyes. 'Please, Attelus, I am not in the mood for your joking. Just hurry it up and get this over with.'

Attelus nodded. He more than knew how she felt; his earlier contemplation on his own humanity despite his inhumanity also applied to Enandra but in a different way. The level of her responsibility, influence and power were inhuman. Not just that but her force of charisma, as well. It was nice seeing her expressing her humanity so openly. She was also being quite hypocritical, having lectured Attelus about his impatience earlier.

'Yes, of course,' said Attelus. 'Kalakor and I managed to get to the top without any resistance at all. But when we reached there, that was when we encountered the final few Bloodletters. So, Kalakor held them off while I ran to confront the general.'

That was one of the more outright lies, and Attelus wished it'd been Kalakor to tell it, but oh well. The truth was that they'd reached the floor below the top one, and there Kalakor opened an entrance with his sorcery to the top floor, and it was Attelus who held off the daemons. Five of the freaks who he managed to defeat by being a cheating bastard and collapsing the floor beneath their hooves, then diving through the small tear in reality.

'Yes, continue, Attelus,' sighed Enandra.

'There I found him, looking out a huge window,' said Attelus. 'His back to me. It seemed like he'd been skinned, and he was huge, his muscles too large. I expected he'd attack me right away, roaring like one of those berserkers, but he seemed sane, rational. He asked me how we managed to bypass the warpstorm, I refused to answer, which he respected oddly. I asked him about the Exterminatus, and he answered me-'

'And you believed him?' said Enandra.

'No,' said Attelus. 'I don't believe him, and I don't disbelieve him, either. I won't take either stance, not until we find out more, but we have no choice but to look into it. Do we?'

Enandra raised her hands and leaned back in her chair. 'Alright, Attelus Kaltos, I was just making sure. Continue, please.'

Attelus pursed his lips; he didn't mean to seem so defensive. He supposed he felt she should know him better than that, but in all honesty, he couldn't blame her much for suspecting she no longer did.

'The general said he'd forgotten about the Exterminatus until only a few months before, then, with a wave of his hand, he released the Commissar and his remaining men from their prison.'

Now that made a look of shock course through Vex, Enandra and Arlathan. Vex even flinched.

'He did?' said Arlathan. 'You sure it wasn't some trick?'

Attelus raised an eyebrow. 'Now I think about it, it could've been, but he was corrupted by the blood god, so tricks and subtlety are unlikely, right? But I did call Tathe over vox and did get a reply, and everyone else corroborated that it happened around then. He claimed he was happy to see me, the "little assassin", that he wouldn't have been able to get the courage to do that. He then told me about the Exterminatus. It was an agri-world named Gurtar taking part in the invasion force against the forces of the Arch Enemy...'

Attelus stopped, pausing in what he hoped was in a dramatic way. 'But during the war, black domes began to appear across the planet.'

Arlathan raised an eyebrow. 'Black domes?'

Attelus nodded. 'Just like the ones we encountered on Omnartus. Although you...'

Arlathan frowned, and his eyes fell to the table. That's right, during that...misadventure, Arlathan, back then a senior detective for the Magistratum, had fainted and missed almost everything. A fact Arlathan had been ashamed of ever since, mostly because many of his people had been slaughtered, and he regretted that he couldn't save any of them due to his weak will.

It was the onus for Arlathan to start changing his attitude and become a better person.

'Hmm,' said Enandra, as she stroked her chin. 'How did the Chaos forces react to these domes?'

'Hmm, that was the interesting thing, mamzel. Apparently, according to intelligence reports, they were just as bemused by them as the Imperials.'

'That is interesting,' said Vex. 'It could have been counter-'

Attelus shut the annoying little bastard up with a raised hand. 'No, when those...daemons emerged from and around those damnable domes, just as they had on Omnartus, they slaughtered both Imperial and Chaos soldier and civilian alike. No one understood what the hell those domes were, so General Tathe called in the Inquisition. And two weeks later, an Inquisitor Soloston of the Ordo Malleus with three squads of Grey Knights showed up.'

'Ah,' said Enandra. 'That explains why no one in the Elbyran contingent remembered. They erased their memories.'

'More like one of them erased their memories,' Attelus corrected grimly. 'Well, when Soloston and his people arrived, those...daemons finally began to emerge from the domes and around them. They began to slaughter everyone and everything. There were a few dozen on Omnartus, and that was just from two domes, imagine how many would come from hundreds and hundreds of them? Like on Omnartus, they were almost unstoppable and...'

Attelus couldn't help but let his sentence drain away as the images of those horrid, nightmarish things flashed through his mind. Their round, bulbous torsos, their elongated arms ending in claws at least a good fifty centimetres long, their jaws jutting from the middle of their chests with jagged teeth that spike out in every direction and lack of any eyes. Their tiny legs like the rear legs of a canine, ran over rooftops after Attelus in the Omnartus Under Hive and-

'Attelus!' Enandra cried, making him blink back to reality. 'Terra to Attelus.'

'Y-yeah, I'm sorry, got distracted there. Uhh, where were we? That's right. Those daemon things were slaughtering everyone and everything. Even the Grey Knights were being overwhelmed, so General Tathe suggested to Soloston Exterminatus.'

'So, this Soloston obviously agreed,' said Enandra. 'I do not know him, his philosophy, nor have I heard of him, which is unsurprising as he did work in the Gothic Sector. But I am surprised he did not resort to Exterminatus sooner, especially when his Grey Knights were so overwhelmed.

'I agree,' said Arlathan, a little too fast, in a subtly sycophantic way. 'Why didn't he?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Don't know. I didn't think to ask, in all honesty. Perhaps I should've, but we didn't have much time.'

'Yes, yes, I understand,' said Enandra. 'I can guess what occurred afterwards, but I will let you continue, so go on, please.'

'Yes, so yes, Soloston did agree, but they only had enough ships to evacuate the soldiers of the Imperial Guard. And then, after the destruction, the last remaining Grey Knight erased all of the soldier's memories. Tathe believed it was a good thing, but afterwards, something began to speak to him in his head. Then he began to talk to it, and, well, it all went downhill from there. He begged me to kill him because he was the lodestone for the Resurrected, that if he died, they all would, and he was obviously losing control. I tried to ask another question, but he lost it and attacked me. We fought, and he was frustrating to fight, but I managed to win by using a krak grenade on him. He called me an honour-less cur. I said honour's overrated, especially when your friend's lives are on the line.'

He didn't say that; Attelus had snarked about how combat rolls were stupid as Attelus had thrown two grenades, the first causing the general to dive out of the way, the second timed to explode when the general was in the midst of rolling, making it impossible to dodge. With his enhanced reflexes, he could've just slid out the way, but being human for so long, the general was used to having to dive.

'Then, what?' said Vex.

Attelus sighed, he really didn't want to tell of this next part, but he had no choice. 'A glowing white light caught the corner of my eye, and it was a glowing rectangular shape, like a door and a voice in my head and something gained control of my body and made me walk toward that door, no matter how hard I fought.'

'What did the voice say?' said Enandra.

Attelus exhaled; he had to choose his words carefully here. 'It said that "it'd been waiting for someone like me for ten millennia." I managed to fight from its mind control, and regain my thoughts, but it still had control of my body. Then I stepped through the door, and I...I don't remember much after then. Just that...if I didn't do something, I was going to kill Adelana...'

Attelus caught Karmen's frown and turned away in the periphery of his vision; he ignored her.

'So, with all my will, I managed to regain control of my body. It seemed to take me hours. The effort hurt me to the marrow, and it was like I was trying to push back against a roaring, twenty-story-tall tsunami. But I managed it, somehow, somehow. And with a roar, I threw the sword away, but then the realisation of all the people I murdered while in its control hit me, I'd seen it all, and I fell to my knees, and the world became nothing but a blur.'

'Who...did he kill, Tathe?' said Enandra, looking to the Commissar.

Tathe sighed. 'Too many of my men. Men and women who fought tooth and nail to reach that tower, who I'd known for decades, just when they thought they'd won. As it seemed, killing my father finally released the Resurrected from their state of un-death. Attelus came down in the elevator. Adelana warned me something was wrong, as she'd talked to him over the vox, but even with all of us ready, it wasn't enough. He slaughtered us with that damned sword, moving faster than the eye could see. I only lived because scout-trooper Dellenger saved me in the very last split-second. Attelus killed Verenth, Helma, and Jelket, and most poor civilians massacred like animals. The captain of the Sovrithians Dantian a lot of his troops. So many.'

'I'm sorry, Tathe,' said Enandra. 'You lost so much and at the hands of former friends and allies.'

Tathe shrugged. 'That is just a truth of serving the Emperor of Mankind.'

'It is,' said Enandra. 'It is, but it doesn't make it hurt any less, does it?'

She looked back to Attelus. 'Yet again, your strength of will impresses me, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos. But I am sure it was not just willpower that gave you the strength to break from the sword's control. Now, what happened next?'

'By this time I had arrived on the ground floor from the stairs,' said Kalakor, and when I emerged from the corridor, I saw that Serghar Kaltos was there, and holding the sword of Kalncerak above his head, it shone with a pink glow, then it exploded into nothingness.'

'Serghar Kaltos destroyed the sword?' said Arlathan.

'Indeed he did,' said Kalakor. 'We assume that he destroyed it because, in all likelihood, it was a danger to our enemy, Etuarq, as he is likely one of these...perpetuals and that sword consumed souls.'

'But why did he need Attelus here to retrieve it?'

'We do not know,' said Kalakor. 'He did not tell us.'

Arlathan looked at Attelus. 'Could it be that you're one of these perpetuals?'

Attelus shrugged; they'd assumed that someone would guess this fact, but not Arlathan and not this quickly. Yet again, it seemed Attelus had underestimated the Interrogator. He was in such a senior position for good reason, after all.

'Good question, don't know, maybe?' here was Attelus yet again lying by telling the truth, there was a lot of evidence toward him being one, but he didn't "know" as he hadn't died yet.

'I am...sceptical of the existence of these...perpetuals,' said Enandra. 'I have never heard of them before. But the implication is...terrible if we cannot kill Etuarq, especially with his incredible power...'

Attelus held back a smile; he'd hoped her inherent arrogance would make her so sceptical. 'Yeah, fair enough, mamzel Enandra. But with this implication, we must assume it's true so we can take measures, just in case.'

Enandra grimaced, and her anger glaze attention shot to him. 'I know that! Damn it, Attelus, I am an Inquisitor for a good reason! Damn you.'

He raised his hands; that's good, you get irritated. Excellent, yes. 'Alright, alright, I'm sorry. I was just saying.'

Enandra pursed her lips and looked back to Kalakor. 'What happened next?'

'Serghar Kaltos then drew his power sword and raised it to kill Attelus Kaltos, and I saw my time to strike. So I took my bolter and exploded his arm holding his sword from the shoulder upward.'

'What?' said Vex, blatantly nonplussed. 'Why didn't you just shoot him in the chest or something?'

Kalakor turned to the young hacker as if making a target lock on him, and Vex withered back from it. 'A good question, for someone with no experience at all in the realm of subversion and psychological warfare. Besides Serghar Kaltos, three well-trained and enhanced agents with power weapons. They were there with him. If I had exploded his wretched skull then and there, we would have had all those agents angered and with nothing to lose. I was not certain I could kill them, and either way, they would have slaughtered many more of the survivors before I could. Attelus and Karmen here included. So I gave them an ultimatum, fight and let their leader bleed out, surely making them incur the wraith of their higher leader. I had been told of how badly this Serghar Kaltos treated them, so I made the assumption this Etuarq was the same. My gambit paid off as they left with their master, and we did not see them afterwards. Also, they had completed their mission. There was no point of them not withdrawing.'

'The destruction of the Sword of Kalncerak?' said Enandra. 'Not the death of Attelus Kaltos and the others? Surely they are a threat needing to be destroyed? If Etuarq is able to see into the future so well, how did you manage to get the drop on Serghar so effectively?'

'The destruction of that daemon weapon seems to exceed even that,' said Kalakor. 'It is a strange occurrence you ask that because Serghar Kaltos mentioned something of great interest, something I am sure he would not have said if he was not certain he would kill everyone near. As he was about to kill Attelus here, he said that his master had foreseen that Attelus was going to kill young Adelana before regaining control of himself. That, "My master predicted that you would kill the girl Adelana before managing to break the sword's control, but he's not always correct." Confirming the fact that Etuarq's vision of the future is not infallible. My presence must have somehow eluded their far sight.'

Attelus smiled, he couldn't remember if those were his father's exact words or not, but he didn't have the Space Marine's eidetic memory.

Enandra looked unconvinced. 'Or, this was foreseen, and Serghar allowed it to happen for yet another one of his master's machinations.'

'Perhaps,' Attelus said with a shrug. 'But I doubt it. There were going into territory so convoluted even Etuarq could accomplish such a machination. I think it defies the philosophy of Occam's Razor so much. It must be assumed that it wasn't predicted.'

Enandra grimaced and gazed at the ceiling, seeming deep in thought. Everyone watched her in silence for a few seconds before she hung her head and sighed. 'I see your point, Attelus. It's on shaky ground, but...By the Emperor, why do we have to have an enemy like this? Why did it have to be so annoyingly convoluted? That is just how this universe works, I suppose. Anyway, I can guess how it went from there. Attelus managed to break from his trance, and someone blurted out the truth to all of the survivors. I'm guessing that was you, Estella Erith. Many decided to join you, including Mr Kalakor, here. You then burned or buried the dead, or at least I hope you did. Then you caught a ride with the Eldar back to the Calixis Sector.'

'That's right, mamzel Enandra,' said Tathe.

After another sigh, Enandra looked at Karmen Kons. 'And I am guessing. If I have Selva look into the memories of the other survivors, it will corroborate your story exactly. That I cannot believe either due to you travelling with a race made up of psykers, many of which have power and experience far beyond us humans, and...'

She trailed off, closed her eyes and breathed deeply through her nose. 'I should have Attelus here executed. He could still have the corruption from that sword inside him. I should not believe a word of anything you say.'

Attelus exchanged a side-long look with Karmen. He placed his hand on his sword, and she began to furrow her brow.

'But yet, I do,' said Enandra. 'Well, most of it, anyway. I think if all of you were corrupted, I would be dead already. I sent you on this mission in the belief you would overcome every single obstacle you would face, which included Chaos corruption, as I knew it was very much a possibility as the star system was cut off by a warp storm. As I knew, you had the means to bypass it. I knew all of this, so in the name of consistency...and thinking from the perspective of Occam's Razor, if you murdered me, it would not be hard for you to take control of this ship. And, I need all of your strength...'

She opened her eyes and looked at Attelus. 'I know all of you so well. I know the incredible strength Attelus and all of you truly are capable of, perhaps more than any of you do. But I could not imagine what lengths you had to go through... I'm just sad that you decided that all of you felt you...'

Enandra sighed.

'I Just...' she said. 'Just...continue on with your story, please. I am just so sick and tired of this crap.'

Frowning, Attelus found he couldn't hold her gaze anymore and looked down at the table; he never would've thought he could feel such pity for an Inquisitor before. Guilt squirmed in his chest.

'Yes, mamzel,' he said. 'Well, as we were leaving the tower, Kalakor...'



The situation reminded Attelus of when he and the others had just been picked up by Inquisitor Enandra after escaping Omnartus. Still, now it was two ten-man squads of Stormtroopers, not just two made up his guard derail. Attelus wondered if any of them were the same two from three years ago. He wondered if either of them were still alive. Right now, Adelana and the others were being transported to The Audacious Edge for interrogation; he hoped it'd go well for her, for all of them. But most especially her.

They turned the last corner of the labyrinthine corridors of the ship, a maze he had long ago learned the layout of, to a door which was like most of the other doors but by far the most familiar. It was the door, to his quarters, which had been his since that horrid day three years ago.

He'd missed it over the past few weeks. Leaving the Stormtroopers to loiter outside, Attelus stepped through the threshold into that spartan room, his hands in the pockets of his flak jacket. It was still a complete mess; spare, dirty grey bodygloves were laid everywhere as well as civilian tunics, his sleeping clothing along with weapons, mostly knives and sidearms Garrakson would have a fit if he saw the place. A desk sat at the other end of the room, six by seven-metre room just beside his personal cogitator, which was covered with scattered papers and books; many were historical tomes he had yet to give back to The Audacious Edge's large library. On the end wall was another door that led to his private bathroom.

The door slid shut behind him, and he sighed deeply, hoping it would alleviate the knot of stress in his chest. It didn't, of course. Then he suddenly stooped as the weariness hit him, and shuffled to his double bed in the far-right corner. He glared at it, what he wouldn't have given to have Karmen in there waiting for him, or more salaciously, Adelana.

With a sigh, Attelus dropped his arse on it with a squeaking creaking.

He tore off his armoured gloves and tossed them on the pile along with the rest of the dirty pairs.

He sighed for what seemed the millionth time and rubbed his eyes with the balls of his palms. He really needed a smoke, so absently, he reached into his flak jacket for the ceramic box.

Attelus couldn't help but thank the Emperor that the de-briefing was finally over and damn well done with, but Enandra's sadness and disappointment weighed on him more than he cared to admit. Perhaps it was a manipulation, but if it was, it was a damned genuine one. Without any conscious thought, he opened the box of Lhos, placed one between his teeth and lit it with his igniter. How damned easy was it to take that habit up again? Too frigging easy.

Enandra had got her adepts and Vex on scouring the data for traces of Inquisitor Soloston straight away. Still, Attelus doubted they would find anything, the galaxy was a damned huge place, and Soloston could be anywhere. It was unlikely that he'd be in the Calixis Sector. Unless...unless he had come here to find their enemy? Just the same as Brutis Bones did years ago? Brutis had come all the way from Segmentum Pacificus, so why couldn't Soloston have come from The Gothic Sector? How he'd have managed to find out about Etuarq, Attelus had no idea. Assuming Soloston was even still alive.

Attelus leaned back and looked at the ceiling high above; he took his Lho stick from his lips between his thumb and index finger and let out a long exhale of smoke. He couldn't believe it, all that suffering, all that brutality and death for such a slight slice of information. Information that might lead to nothing. Well, not just that-

+Attelus Kaltos,+ said a familiar, distant voice in his skull, which made him sit forwards, causing his bed to creak.

Faleaseen? Is that you?

+Indeed,' she said, and Attelus had never heard her sound so exhausted before as if she was only just clinging to life. +My apologies that I have not been in communication with you since you left Sarkeath.+

It's... It's okay, are you alright?

+No...no I am not, okay, Attelus Kaltos...I have, along with my fellow Farseers, been searching the skeins of fate for this Inquisitor Soloston. The toll has been great...four of us had died in the...effort. That is why I have not...communicated with you.+

Attelus gaped; he had no idea how to reply to that.

+Also, Raloth Arlyandor spoke of your...criticism, and I see wisdom in your words...I will begin to discuss the possibility with the Craftworld senior leaders...+

Her voice flowed into nothingness.

'Faleaseen!' Attelus couldn't help saying aloud. 'Faleaseen?'

He waited and waited, his heart thundering through his chest.

+Do not...worry about me+ she said after what seemed like several minutes +...I just need a rest...But I have good news, Attelus Kaltos. We managed to find a name, but what it is...the name of...+

Attelus leapt off his bed, dodged to his desk, snatched up a stylus and shouted, 'Name? What name?'

She said the name.

'Spell it out for me, please!'

She did, and Attelus scribbled it on a notebook. He hoped it was a world, although it wasn't one he'd heard of before.

'Thanks, Faleaseen,' said Attelus.

+There is no need to thank me...I am just performing my duties as a Farseer, but now I must rest. I will be...in touch with you soon, Attelus. Good...luck.'

Attelus smiled; he thought she didn't believe in luck, having called it an "abstract human concept" once.

'Good luck to you too, Faleaseen.'

Then she was gone.

Attelus turned on his old cogitator and tapped the tip of his shoe on the floor as he waited for it to boot up. It took a good minute before he could finally enter in the name with his two-fingered, but fast, typing and...it was indeed a planet. A small, remote but wealthy shrine world with a convent of the Adepta Sororitas or more commonly known as the Sisters of Battle, and it was...it was in the far galactic northeast of the Calixis Sector. What the frig was Soloston doing there? Assuming he's even there, to begin with. Attelus activated his micro-bead and tuned it to Enandra's personal channel with sweaty fingers.

'Yes?' said the Inquisitor after a few seconds of calling. 'What is it, Attelus?'

'Mamzel, Enandra, I've found a lead.'

'Oh, yes? And what is it?'

'Have you so happened to have heard of the Shrine World of Quoranda?' said Attelus.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Even with the enhanced warp drives, it still took them seven weeks to travel to Quoranda. The Audacious Edge with The Xenocide travelling in tow. During that time, all of the Sarkeathian Survivors were kept in confinement, each having their private quarters to keep them separate, even the troopers. If they ever left, they would be escorted and could only go one at a time. All of them, one by one, were subjected to mental and physical tests. Sometimes the same one two or three times. Attelus was tested the most out of everyone, which didn't surprise him at all. He endured the needles, then the hours of pestering, and constant questions from the adept-interrogators. Attelus knew they couldn't get any inconsistencies from him. All the while, Enandra kept her distance; why exactly, Attelus could only contend with a myriad amount of guesses on.

Attelus didn't mind his confinement; he was glad he was no longer in a place of responsibility. Attelus used that time to train and study. He now saw he needed to know more on the ways of Chaos and its horrid gods, so most of the time, he left his quarters to fetch and return books. It was disappointing how little there was; perhaps if he had access to an Ordo Malleus librarium, there'd be more. He also wanted to learn more about this "athame" knife his father used. Kalakor may know more, but he was in confinement too. Usually, Attelus tried to avoid learning so much "forbidden knowledge" for the sake of his sanity, however dubious it already was. But after the gak on Sarkeath, he decided he needed to know more. And knowing was half the battle, after all. Every time he went there, he got to see his fellow expatriate, a lovely woman from Velrosia who he'd saved from Omnartus, along with Adelana. He couldn't remember her damn name for the life of him, though.

Attelus was surprised Enandra let him have access to such knowledge while in confinement. They'd expected it, though, so much so that he was surprised that Enandra had been so fast to chase after his lead.

Attelus wondered if Enandra had told anyone the real reason they were leaving Scintilla for such an unknown backwater world. Perhaps all the interrogations and tests were just lip service? Or perhaps was it desperation to finally find a lead for their elusive enemy? He didn't mind the confinement because he was an introvert; he could keep himself amused for countless hours with his thoughts, reading, training, smoking, and listening to music. Perhaps even dance a bit from time to time. He had no training, but he had a good sense of rhythm, and it felt nice to go with the flow. Although it would soon descend back into martial arts training, fighting and dancing weren't too far from each other, after all.

Attelus didn't mind the confinement...for now; he hoped things would go back to being the same soon.

He'd heard they were now apparently being called "The Sarkeathian Survivors" and no longer "The Omnartus Survivors", which amused him more than he could say, how one tragedy could replace the last so fast. People had such short memories; it seemed, especially those that had little to no involvement. How the information on their mission had spread through the personnel was beyond him, in all honesty.

It was three days after their last transition there was a buzz at his door, and Attelus opened it with a smoking Lho hanging from his mouth to find Interrogator Arlathan Karkin and sergeant Kollath towering over him. Kollath looked down at Attelus in his typical sneering way, his blond hair close-cropped short, his skin a dark, healthy tan. Attelus couldn't help but wonder how many hours he'd spent in the tanning booth. Kollath's features were so square that he seemed like a parody of masculinity or a mini Space Marine.

'Inquisitor wants to speak to you,' said Kollath. 'Emperor only knows why.'

Attelus smiled blandly up the Stormtrooper; he wanted to reply with "The Emperor only knows why I haven't run you through with my power sword yet," but wisely held his tongue.

Everyone knew Kollath and Arlathan were rivals for Enandra's affection, and while Arlathan had his flaws, Attelus had no clue what Enandra saw in the smug sergeant.

'Back smoking, I see,' said Arlathan. 'I can understand after the gak you'd gone through back on Sarkeath...'

A small smile contorted his beard. 'In all honesty.'

'Yeah, yeah, whatever,' sighed Attelus as he slid his hands into the pockets of his flak jacket. 'Let's just get this over and damn well done with, okay?'


Much to Attelus' surprise, he was led to the bridge of all places, where Enandra sat on the command throne, in a black bodyglove. Her long, almost hypnotising legs crossed as she placed her jaw into the palm of her hand.

Beside her was the mute-sanctioned psyker Selva; she wore her Primaris Battle psyker beige trench coat and leaned on her staff so much it seemed she was trying to push it through the floor. Her liver-spotted scalp was shaven, and the pipes lodged in the back of her skull seemed to shove her head down into a hunch so low, she seemed to have the build of an ork with her head seeming to sprout from her chest. Her time as a psyker has not been kind to her at all. It made Attelus wonder about Karmen, who was so much more powerful, and how she managed to look so great. Perhaps that was something to do with Faleaseen's influence on her?

Selva glared at him with what seemed unadulterated hatred. She was puritanical as frig, so Attelus knew she'd rather see him and his fellow 'Sarkeathian Survivors' dead. She'd fixed him with that exact same look when she tried to read his mind for one of the "tests." It'd made him smile, in all honesty, as she had no hope to bypass the psychic block that Faleaseen had put in his head three years ago.

'It's good to see you again, Selva,' said Attelus. 'You're always a bright ray of sunlight in this grimdark galaxy.'

The psyker just sneered and looked to the floor. Attelus looked at the oculus and on it was the magnified world of Quoranda which spun with supine grace among the black void and the stars as if there wasn't a care in the universe. Like the pict on the cogitator data banks, it was mostly covered in the ocean and had two massive, dark green continents. Apparently, and was classified from the regular populace, there was a vast labyrinthine network of tunnels a couple of kilometres beneath the surface. Made out of perfectly square corridors made from some strange rockcrete that certainly didn't seem like wraithbone, it reminded Attelus of his and Adelana's horrific misadventure on Koliath a year ago. The thought caused shivers to course beneath Attelus' skin. It was theorised made by the alien species, the mysterious Yu'vath that'd once ruled the Calixis Sector or, as it was once known, the Calyx Expanse before The Angevin Crusade conquered it. Apparently, a few other planets across the Sector had similar tunnels on Orbel Quinn and Quaddis. Many times over the centuries, many expeditions from many differing organisations had attempted to map the tunnels but have only managed to map a tiny part or have just disappeared entirely. This had interested Attelus immensely, and he couldn't help feeling that their mission might demand they descend into those mysterious tunnels.

'Yes, there it is,' said Enandra. 'Exciting, isn't it?'

Attelus shrugged. 'Just seems like a shittier version of my home world to me, in all honesty, mamzel.'

'Ah yes, Elbyra, I can see why you think that. It is just another world to me...in all honesty.'

'Fair enough,' said Attelus with a shrug.

There was a long pause, and Attelus kept his eyes on the oculus all the while.

'I'm assuming the tests came back with no problems?' said Attelus.

'They did,' said Enandra. 'The physical ones, at least. The mental ones came back with the same laundry list of issues you normally have, C-PTSD, ADHD, just being the start. So, only a little more off the planet than your average Throne Agent.'

'That's cool, very cool. So, how are we going to do this?'

'Cool?'

'Yeah, a new word I'm wanting to use from now on instead of "good" it's "good", but I don't know also, cold? So it's cool making it "good" but in a uhh more stylish way, or uhh calm way, I suppose?'

Enandra sighed. 'I see. Your isolation has made you even more nutty, it seems.'

Attelus shrugged again.

'Attelus Xanthis Kaltos, before we start, I have to make this abundantly clear for you, things are not going back to normal; maybe it never will. This mission is going to be a test for you and your people of your true intentions.'

'Okay.'

'Okay? Just like that?'

'In all honesty, I thought that'd be the case.'

'Of course, you did.'

Attelus finally turned to the Inquisitor, and he couldn't help his eyes wander up her legs.

Enandra smiled knowingly at him and looked at the oculus. 'The world of Quoranda, one of the many that claims to be the birthplace of the great saint Drusus himself. It is said that in the early days when Angevin's Crusade came to the world that the people instantly recognised the great Drusus when he landed on the surface, and almost every single man, woman and child across the entire world fell to their knees. Apparently, they recognised him to be The Emperor incarnate, despite the fact they had stopped worshipping the Emperor since he left. The evil upper echelons of that society then committed mass suicide as they realised the falseness in their belief in whatever god or gods they worshipped. So, from then on, the world became a shrine wholly dedicated to Drusus like no other. Do you think that's true, Attelus? Or propaganda?'

'It doesn't matter what I think, mamzel. What do you think?' Attelus said smoothly.

Enandra laughed. 'I hoped you would be honest, Attelus, not try to kiss my arse like so many others here. Admittedly, I do have a nice arse, though. No, I asked you what you think. My opinion does not matter now, just yours.'

Attelus sighed. 'Hmm, okay. There's a lot of crazy gak I've seen and haven't seen that's happened and has yet to happen yet across this vast cosmos. But that pushes believability a bit too much for me, in all honesty. But, gak, you never frigging know. But it's more likely overblown, melodramatic Ecclesiarchy propaganda than anything else.'

'A...cool non-answer, Attelus. If you worded it...a lot better, you might make a good politician one day.'

'It's true, though, mamzel.'

'I'm sure it is,' said Enandra. 'All I think that even is if it is true, which I doubt it is, that it seems like a true case of overcompensation. Overcompensation that's likely hiding something; we cannot trust anything about the world when we land on it. And remember, we're dealing with the damned Ecclesiarchy here, so we may as well be leaping into a pit of vipers or getting involved with Malfian nobility.'

Attelus nodded, trust nothing, suspect everything, indeed.

'Hmm, so, I'm guessing that's why we're still on the system's periphery? We're doing this subtly?'

'Indeed,' said Enandra. 'Well, at first we are. As you may have already guessed, we have managed to hack into their public and a few of their private vox networks, and we've found a couple of interesting things. The first being that a mysterious sickness has engulfed much of the populace. Over 400,000 of the eight billion people are infected despite the best efforts of officials to contain it. Twenty thousand have died already.'

'Wait,' said Attelus. 'I thought Quoranda only had a population of seven billion.'

'It does, or it did, but they are still allowing pilgrims on the planet; they are just not letting them leave, to "prevent the disease from spreading off-world" until "the vaccine has been produced".'

Attelus couldn't help pursing his lips. 'I don't like that at all. I can understand keeping people from leaving but still letting them on the world doesn't make much sense, in all honesty.'

Enandra frowned. 'I don't like it, either, Attelus. They do have their reasons, of course.'

'Mind if I hazard a guess, mamzel? They don't want to prevent the faithful from their holy pilgrimage or some gak along those lines.'

'That's indeed what they claim,' said Enandra. 'Also, the fact that, ironically, they are having the biggest economic boom they've had in centuries.'

Clenching his teeth. 'That's not it; that can't be just it. There was no word of this to the Calixian Conclave...Or anything? What is this dodgy as frig, mamzel.'

Enandra shrugged. 'The Drusians believe the endurance of suffering is holy and blah blah blah. Maybe they think this sickness is a test from the Emperor? Fanatics are like that, completely illogical.'

'Indeed,' said Attelus. Too bad we live in an utterly illogical universe, he thought.

'You, know,' said Enandra. 'You should be another saint to the Drusians.'

'What? You're joking, right? Why me? I'm about as frigging holy or as saintly as a...toe...nail?'

'Because who else has endured more than you?'

Attelus flinched. 'Perhaps, maybe, but even so, I don't deserve to be anyone's damn saint, and I wouldn't ever want to be one either. Frig that.'

'You, see, the irony is that people who believe that are usually the ones who deserve such a position the most.'

Attelus sighed. 'If anyone deserves to be made a saint, it's the good Commissar; he was prepared to be crushed to death than kill innocent Imperial Citizens. He made the biggest "frig you" to the Chaos gods ever. Him and Dellenger.'

'Good point, but I am viewing it from the Drusian perspective. Anyway, I digress. But interestingly enough, according to the non-civilian vox communications, there are a tiny minority of cases are being sent to the Adepta Sororitas convent, which has been closed from the public.'

'That's...interesting, yes,' said Attelus as he stroked his chin. 'And let me guess, you want me and my people to infiltrate it? Do you think Soloston could be there?'

'Yes, on both accounts, well, half-right...'

'It won't be your people, Attelus, but my people,' said Arlathan as he stepped to lean on Enandra's command throne.

'Okay,' said Attelus. 'Cool

'Okay? Cool?' said Enandra, smiling and exchanging a glance with Arlathan. 'You're just glad you no longer have a leadership position anymore.'

'Yeah, because I suck at it.'

Enandra exhaled through her nose. 'You do not "suck at it", Attelus said. Your mission was a success and -'

'Yeah, only because of luck and a gak ton of extenuating circumstances,' said Attelus. 'Now, who's on the team?'

'Me,' said Arlathan, 'And the usual suspects Karmen, Darrance, Delathasi, Dellenger, Torris, Halsin and Tathe. Vex, too. I'm hoping your Space Marine friend will accompany us as well.'

'Tathe?' said Attelus. 'He's a war hero, well known in the Calixis Sector, he could be recognised. And what about Hayden?'

'Hayden is going to remain in confinement,' said Enandra. 'Which you yourself recommended, as I recall, his tests came back fine, by the way. And Tathe will just have to be careful. His scars are going to be covered in false flesh as well.'

'And what about...what about...'

'Your young and oh-so-pretty girlfriend, Adelana?' said Enandra. 'I received her request to transfer to work in our Librarium, which I obviously granted. That poor girl, that mission was too much for her and I cannot blame her. Needless to say, I will have a few of my soldiers keep an eye on her...just in case. I bet you're glad you managed to manipulate her to make her stay.'

'I didn't-'

'You did. Her reasoning sounded like your words, not hers. You want her to stay around in case you can finally get the damned courage to tell her how you feel. When, in reality, she hasn't escaped danger at all, any day now this ship could get boarded and stormed by Emperor only knows what and she'll be slaughtered...or worse alongside many others of the crew.'

'But-'

'You should have just let her go.'

'Where else could she have gone?' said Attelus.

'Scintilla? I could have given her a generous sum and-'

'And what would she do there? With no friends or family? No one to be there for her?'

'She would start again, and you underestimate her, I think, Attelus.'

'No, I empathise with her, mamzel.'

Enandra sighed. 'Yes, of course, you do.'

'So,' said Attelus. 'When do we make planetfall?'

'We?' said Arlathan. 'Who said you were coming with us?'

'Huh? What?' said Attelus.

'Well, you'll be coming down with us in the dropship,' said Arlathan. 'But you won't be taking part in the mission. We are investigating into the reason why the officials are letting pilgrims to land on the world but not letting them leave. You are investigating into that convent alone.'

Attelus couldn't help straighten. 'What? Why? I don't understand.'

'It's because, Attelus,' said Enandra. 'If you are to be my master of assassins, you need to be able to work alone, as well as be a leader.'

'But... aren't you throwing me into the deep end a bit here?'

Anger flashed across Enandra's face, but she seemed to control it quickly. 'If...that was the case,' she said through clenched teeth, 'I would not be sending you into this...deep end, would I? Have some damned faith in yourself, please.'

'Kalakor could...wait? Me, your master of assassins?'

'By the Emperor, boy!' snapped Kollath so suddenly it made everyone flinch. 'Yes, how many times must she say it for it to penetrate your thick skull? And why is it so hard to believe, anyway? Aren't you already a master in your assassin cult?'

Attelus frowned, Kollath was an arse, but he hated to admit the sergeant had a point. He never really thought of himself as a "master assassin". The title was as meaningless to him as... Attelus didn't care about the stupid title despite all the gak he'd gone through to earn it. Attelus really couldn't think of a good simile right now, in all honesty. Was that even a simile?

'Fine, whatever,' sighed Attelus. 'But if I run into my father again and he impales me in the guts again. Or if I encounter, oh I don't know, another greater daemon of the Chaos gods and it slaughters me, it'll be your fault, mamzel Enandra.'

Enandra shrugged and tilted her head. 'Indeed, that is true, Attelus. But I am afraid that it is a burden I am willing to bear. Please accept my humble and sincere apologies. Please do!'

'And what will you be doing while we're down on the surface?' said Attelus, although he already knew the answer. He wanted to add while we were in danger and working our arses off but wisely refrained.

Enandra smiled. 'Oh, you know, sitting pretty on my oh-so-nice arse. I might get a few Sisters of Battle up here to pillow fight me in our underwear—just the usual. No, I will be in reserve; if something goes wrong, I'll make sure to make an explosive entrance. And I have to make sure the crew of the Xenocide knows who is their new, indisputable master.'

Attelus pursed his lips and shrugged; his anxiety had seemed to ebb away into a newfound confidence, he could do this! He will do this, frig it! 'Fair enough. Is that everything?'

'Yes, for now,' said Enandra. 'You will be making planetfall at midnight local time. I assume you have done your research on the planet?'

'Always, mamzel, knowledge is power, after all.'

'Good,' said Enandra. 'Dismissed.'

Attelus didn't move.

'Why are you still here? You are dismissed.'

Attelus hesitated; he wanted to ask whether she knew of the Emperor's Truth, which inspired her to join the Seculos Attendous. He couldn't find anything about it in the Librarium, but he doubted she would keep such information in even their private Librarium. But asking now, in front of everyone, was not the time, and he'd no frigging clue how he'd explain how he'd learned about it if she knew. If she didn't know, she'd more than appreciate her belief in a secular Imperium was far more in line with the Emperor's vision than his own religion if Kalakor was telling the truth, of course. But telling her might make her ask questions he didn't want to answer, not yet, anyway.

So he nodded, said his goodbyes, and left.



Despite the horrid heat that his body gloves fans barely kept at bay and made his hair clinging to his face due to his sweat, Attelus didn't complain, not out loud, anyway. The frigging damned humidity, the pollen clogging his nose and making his eyes water, and the fact he still had many miles left to trek, in all honesty, Attelus couldn't have been happier. This was his element, traversing the bush. He'd grown up for much of his childhood in rural northern Velrosia, where he'd wandered through the bush alone countless times. He'd never get lost, even when Attelus was very young and no matter how far Attelus left his home behind or how thick the bush would get or even if he was walking through an area he'd never explored before. Attelus didn't know how he managed it; he wasn't a psyker; he supposed it could've been a genetic, evolutionary thing, perhaps some instinctive trait to "sense" magnetic north? And it made him wonder if his gak of a father or his long-dead, kind yet...flawed mother held the same trait. Attelus shook away any more thought of her.

His footfalls were silent as he manoeuvred through the dull brown and green bush with ease. Everything seemed strangely unhealthy, gnarled, and bloated. He was no expert on the local flora and fauna, but to Attelus' eyes, everything was dead and rotten. If he placed a palm on a tree, his hand would slip, breaking off bark like it was rotting, but the roots were still strong and the branches were still covered in leaves. It reminded him of the ugly, sick vegetation back on that backwater of backwater worlds Koliath, so much, that it unnerved him. Adelana, Vex, and he had travelled there in a desperate bid to investigate one of the remaining leads on Taryst's data bank as the Rogue Trader had invested a gak ton of throne gelts into a mining colony to set up on the world. Well, a "gak ton" of throne gelts to Attelus, anyway. To the insanely rich Taryst, it was mere chump change. Naturally, that lead led to a dead-end, but they got wrapped up in a terrible, frigging terrible multi-murder case that Attelus dearly wished he could forget. Adelana had refused even to mention it since they left Koliath, and he suspected that investigation was one of the many reasons she quit being a Throne Agent.

Attelus stopped as he came almost face-to-face with a wall of thick, trunk-like grey vines tangling and twisting together around a giant tree that towered above Attelus so tall, he couldn't help be reminded of Taryst's tower back on Omnartus, somewhat. The tree's trunk must've been a good fifteen metres in radius but the parasitic vines choking it made it seem much, much wider.

'That's what she said,' Attelus whispered and shrugged; he would've liked a view further abroad so he may...

One of the vines caught the corner of his eye, making him halt his thoughts. It was slightly different from the others, a little thicker than the rest and its bark subtly more defined. Attelus knew what it was the split-second he saw it; luckily, he'd done his research or-

As if sensing him noticing it, the vine seemed to shudder and start to slide from its hiding place in utter silence. Slipping through the maze of vines with incredible ease, and it kept moving and moving. The Bark Snake must've been metres upon metres long, one of its longest species. Then it emerged; its head was disproportionately wider than its body, at least by three metres. Its jaws split its skill down vertically, jaws filled with curved translucent teeth, each at least a dozen centimetres long. Its green, feline-like sickle-shaped eyes were set high on its head and forward-facing like all good predators. It hissed, and its head shook as the forked tongue writhed and whipped the air as it loomed over him like some titan monster of legend.

Unlike Attelus's home world or Koliath, there weren't any creatures there.

The Bark Snake drew back its head and then struck.

Attelus lunged back, and its snapping jaws eclipsed only empty air.

For a split-second, it shuddered as if surprised he could dodge it, the Bark Snake had a strike rate of 1/10th of a second, so if it was surprised, Attelus couldn't blame it. They caused by and far the most deaths a year than any other creature on the planet despite nesting so far from human settlements.

Attelus drew his sword and activated it in a blaze of blue. The creature was scary as frig; objectively, it made his heart bash through him hard and fast, but Attelus had faced down a Greater Daemon of the Blood god not that long ago, so this was less than nothing.

The Bark Snake eyed him, hissing, and then it lunged forwards, but it was a feint, yet it still made Attelus step to the left. He didn't want to kill it, but-

Then he saw the ugly bulbous, green and brown pustules bulging across its side.

The snake seemed to see his distraction and struck.

Clenching his teeth, Attelus barely managed to slide aside it, so barely its scaly skin brushed against him; if it weren't for his planted forward stance, he would've been knocked off his feet.

Instinct overrode his consciousness, and it made him bring his blade down into it just below the head. Attelus half expected it would somehow resist it, like the daemons back on Sarkeath and the monsters under Etuarq, but his sword parted its head from the rest of it like it was made from butter. The snake's corpse writhed and reeled, making Attelus leap out of range of its death throes.

It did this for a good few seconds, smashing and crashing through the underbrush. The cracking and Chaos sent birds flying from the treetops and caused everything to become clouded in a thick vapour of pollen, and Attelus thought it was terrible back on Iocanthos. All the while, Attelus hadn't taken his attention away from the pustules as they exploded like pierced pimples, sending green and brown goop spraying onto the scenery. Attelus made sure he kept frigging far away from that crap.

A sudden stench, like hundreds of long rotting corpses, eclipsed the pollen dominating Attelus' nostrils, and he reeled, cried out and tried to cover his face. With desperate, gloved fingers, Attelus reached into the pouch on the back of his belt and pulled out his rebreather. It only took him a split second, but it felt like an age before he managed to slip it on his face, finally sparing him from that horrid stink.

The snake went still, yet its jaws still twitched, and its eyes shivered and blinked with its vertical, translucent eyelids. It was glaring at him in what seemed like utter hatred, beyond even Selva.

Instead of blood, more of that stinking sludge seeped from its stumps and flowed thick and fast across the dirt.

'I don't like this,' he said, and while grimacing along with the disgust welling within him, Attelus reached for his micro-bead. He wasn't supposed to communicate with the others unless in the direst of circumstances, but this more than qualified.

More than frigging qualified.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Arlathan cursed yet again as he sliced through yet another vine with his monomolecular-enhanced sword. He ignored concerned the look of Delan Tathe, who walked alongside him and used his inactive power sword far more effectively, because, of course, he did. Arlathan had to remind himself constantly Tathe was a swordmaster who'd been practising since he was old enough to speak, but it still got to him.

Everything about the damned Commissar got to him...in all honesty.

Arlathan glanced over his shoulder to the line of Stormtroopers and Throne Agents following him and Tathe. There was Karmen, in her full power armour including her helm, then sergeant Kollath, young Vex Carpompter who led four Stormtroopers who hauled his cogitator container between them. After them was Halsin, and watching the rear alongside five Stormtroopers was Torris. Twenty more Stormtroopers were held in reserve in the dropship they'd left at the LZ about twelve kilometres behind them. Ulysses was their designated pilot, which had been a bit of an existential crisis for Darrance; much to everyone's amusement, Darrance was happy he was on the field than waiting for the call as a pilot. But he was also torn on being replaced by his supposed rival, especially after Enandra had learned of his incredible piloting back on Sarkeath. Honestly, Arlathan would much rather have Darrance with him on the surface. As much as Ulysses was an excellent warrior with his dual bolt pistols, Darrance's abilities as a fighter, infiltrator and assassin far exceeded Ulysses'. Arlathan would've more than wanted Hayden on the team; his skill set far exceeded any other agents in their organisation in its diversity, but alas, a-frigging-las.

Arlathan had taken the lead along with Delan "frigging" Tathe, besides the four scouts invisible ahead, because he was supposed to be the leader. Still, by frig, he was struggling through the damned jungle, and everyone knew despite how much he tried to hide it. He was born and raised on a Hive world; this was most definitely not his element. He also felt naked; upon his ascendency to the rank of Interrogator, Enandra had gifted him his own set of power armour, he was forced to leave it back in the dropship and wear a black bodyglove beneath his pilgrim's robes. Privately, Arlathan disagreed with Enandra putting him in charge instead of Attelus, the main reason being that damned Space Marine Kalakor, who Attelus had somehow earned his friendship and respect. Arlathan didn't have that privilege, and Kalakor wasn't subtle about his disdain when he spoke down to Arlathan. He just hoped the Space Marine wouldn't cause any problems.

Arlathan slashed his way a few more metres, taking his anger out on the underbrush instead of who he wanted to take it out on.

Then he came almost face-to-face with the Velrosian scout, Dellenger, causing Arlathan to cry out and jump back.

'Oh, God-Emperor! Damn it, warn me next time you do that! Frig.'

'My apologies,' said Dellenger, but he didn't seem to mean it. 'It's getting dark...sir, but we have found a good place for us to set up camp.'

'"Good place", meaning a less-gak place, right?'

Dellenger shrugged in his annoyingly non-committal way. 'We've had worse, haven't we...Delan?'

'It's true,' said Tathe. 'I remember back on Cirlia, fifteen years back when we fought the Orks, we had to sleep on a ledge hanging over a half-kilometre drop in the middle of a sandstorm. Our only protection our sleeping bags. The ledge was only half a metre wide so that we couldn't set up tents, and we had to sleep in single file, several hundred of us. It was in a valley about two kilometres wide, and the Orks held the other side and were taking potshots at us the entire night. Emperor only knew how they knew we were there. We eventually had snipers set up in nests we dug out in the cliff face above us, despite the fear it might cause a rock collapse. But they may as well have been spitting into the wind. We lost troopers Rellit and Torl and sergeant Issla due to lucky shots that night.'

Arlathan blinked; he couldn't help but admit that sure as hell put it in perspective for him. He was about to reply when his micro-bead beeped, so he raised a hand for silence and opened the link.

'Attelus, this better be damned good.'

'It isn't good, Arlathan. It really isn't frigging good,' said Attelus, and his tone caused Arlathan's blood to seem to stop flowing in his veins. 'I just killed one of this planet's apex predators, and...'

'And, what?'

'I think...Frig, I think the Plague god is infecting this planet,' said Attelus.



Enandra stepped out of her quarters; she wore her power armour and her witch hunter wide-brimmed hat. Hadrel and his ten-man Stormtrooper escort waited for her in the corridor waiting outside for her. Much to her amusement, he saluted her smartly, so she lazily returned one in turn.

'Mamzel, Inquisitor,' he said. 'You wished to meet me here.'

'I did. You need to relax, Hadrel. You are not one of the people who'd returned from a tainted world.'

'Then why have the Stormtroopers following me around?'

Enandra shrugged. 'Huh, must've forgotten to exempt you in my order, sorry about that. Sergeant Voln, you are dismissed.'

The Stormtroopers simultaneously saluted, turned and marched off.

Hadrel gaped at her. 'Are you sure-'

Enandra interrupted him with a raised hand. 'I am sure, Hadrel. Come, let's walk.'

The Master assassin nodded, and they began down the corridor side by side.

'You seem...quite earnest for a master of assassins, Hadrel.'

Hadrel shrugged. 'I don't know what to say to that, mamzel Inquisitor.'

Enandra smiled and looked at him. 'I bet you also don't what to make of all of this.'

'I don't, mamzel.'

'So, what do you feel about all of this?'

'I...feel that my men and I are getting into something that is far above our pay grade.'

Enandra couldn't help laughing. 'Maybe so, but you of the Sons of Dispater are well known in the sector as professionals, so I am sure you and your men will perform well.'

Hadrel shrugged. 'Mamzel, just one of your men managed to slaughter over three dozen of mine single-handed if you need him to fight your enemies if they are on his level...'

'Attelus Kaltos is a freak. He has been enhanced by the Adeptus Mechanicus. You do not need to worry.'

'Oh yes? And what about his father? The infamous who Serghar Kaltos apparently slaughtered Attelus? What will my men do if we have to fight him?'

Enandra frowned. 'So, do you wish to go back to the Sons, then? I would like to have a contact within them. I have connections within the Blades of Vengeance.'

Hadrel turned to her, his eyes wide. 'N-no, mamzel. I did not mean to complain. We have betrayed a contract, so we cannot go back. We are honoured to be able to join your ranks.'

She stopped, and Hadrel halted a split-second after, his reflexes like a feline's.

'Please, do not kiss my butt, Hadrel.'

The assassin master raised his hands. 'I-I'm not, mamzel Inquisitor. I meant it. I swear.'

She studied his face for a good five seconds before she saw he was legitimate, and they began moving on again. Enandra wanted to tell Hadrel he was only here out of sufferance, that Attelus' strange ability to get people on his side was a colossal pain in the frigging arse. But she wanted Hadrel on her side. He seemed immune to her flirting so far, though.

'Tell, me, Hadrel, how did you join the Sons of Dispater?'

Hadrel smiled, obviously pleased he'd managed to predict such an obvious question. 'Was running in a gang as a slinger back in Gunmetal City. We tried to take out an enemy gang leader, but he was rich as a frig and hired a bunch of Sons to protect him. All my squad were taken out, but I managed to take out a few Sons before getting injured. I impressed the master so much that he saw my potential and hired me as I was being treated for my injuries by one of his own. Then, well, the rest is history, mamzel.'

Enandra nodded absently.

The assassin master sniggered. 'I would ask you how you became an Inquisitor, but I doubt you would answer that.'

'No, I wouldn't,' said Enandra as they turned a corner and began approaching the prison checkpoint where four Stormtroopers were stationed.

They exchanged the usual crap before she and Hadrel were walking onward again.

'Where are we going, mamzel?' said Hadrel.

'You will see soon, Hadrel,' said Enandra, as they turned another corner to find another cell door with two Stormtroopers standing guard. One typed in the code on a security panel beside it.

Enandra went to step through, but Hadrel had stopped.

'You coming?'

Hadrel furrowed his brow in obvious bemusement but then nodded and followed.

Inside was a desk, a small cot and a toilet, and the man sitting behind that desk raised his gaze at them as they entered.

'It's good to see you, Enandra. It has been how many decades, now? Five?' said Draven as he stood up from his chair. 'I see you brought my traitorous employee with you.'

'Yes,' said Enandra. 'Torathe did warn us about the dangers of hiring mercenaries.'

Draven's eyes glazed with rage. 'You have no right to utter his name. You were his murderer.'

That took Enandra off guard for a micro-second. 'I was told Attelus Kaltos informed you of what happened three years ago. It was Torathe who boarded my ship. It was Torathe who ordered an unnecessary Exterminatus on an important Hive World. He lost his mind and became so puritanical he came out the other side into fanatical radicalism. He became a liability, an extremely dangerous liability, and I had to put him down. What I did, was a necessity. What I did, was a mercy.'

'As you claim.'

Enandra gaped. 'It is what happened, damn it, Draven. I know you, and I never got along but do not let that get in the way of you seeing the truth.'

'He was your saviour. He taught you everything he knew. You owed him everything, everything! As did I, but you, or you had one of your peons, cut his throat like he was some animal in a slaughter den.'

Despite herself, Enandra froze so abruptly, and obviously, it made Hadrel look at her and Draven furrowed his bushy eyebrows.

'That is how he died, wasn't it?' said Draven. 'That is what that little fool Attelus Xanthis Kaltos told me when I interrogated him.'

Enandra's eye twitched. How did the little fool know that? That piece of information had never escaped the bridge of The Imperial Crusher Enandra had made frigging damned sure of that.

Could it have been Karmen Kons, somehow finding out through her powers? Or could it have been...Could it have been the Eldar? But if so, did they tell him this before or after the fact? Because if it was before...

'Mamzel, Inquisitor?' said Hadrel. 'Are you alright?'

'I am fine, Hadrel. Thank you for your concern,' said Enandra, then she sighed. 'As that little fool is so fond of saying, in all honesty, Draven. I did not have anyone "cut his throat like he was some animal". I was not there when it happened. It was my now Interrogator who did it. He led a team which successfully infiltrated The Imperial Crusher, as my men fought the bulk of Torathe's forces. They were just meant to cause...discord behind enemy lines, but they managed to get to the bridge and there fought Torathe, the bridge crew, and the remnants of his retinue and won. My Interrogator was the only survivor. If that didn't happen, I would have gone about it differently, a trial, perhaps?'

'That might be true, but you are still the leader, and thus the responsibility lies on your shoulders alone.'

Enandra rolled her eyes. 'We may be Inquisitors, but we are not gods, some things happen that we cannot control, even actions by our underlings. While I take responsibility for Torathe's death, the circumstances are different. Such as your circumstance now, for instance.'

Drevan sneered. 'I should've killed all of them when I had the chance, God-Emperor, damn you. And you needn't be so smug about it.'

She grinned. 'Drevan, you are such an unmitigated arsehole that I cannot help but be smug about it, and I am entirely not sorry about it, either. Sorry.'

'I am an Inquisitor of the most Holy Ordos. I am beyond such labels as "arsehole" or "evil". Only the God-Emperor Himself can pass such judgement on me.'

'See, Drevan, that type of attitude is why you are now locked away, and I am not.' said Enandra. 'And last I checked, I am in possession of your Rosette, so...'

Drevan shrugged and indicated Hadrel with a tilt of his head. 'What in the God-Emperor's name is he doing here?'

'Yes, mamzel, Inquisitor, ' said Hadrel. 'Why am I here, exactly?'

Enandra shrugged. 'Just thought you would like to say a thing or two to Draven here, tell him he's a bastard or whatever you wish. Your chance to call a former Inquisitor anything you want. He was ready to bomb that building with you and your men in it if Attelus Kaltos did not comply. You must be angry about that, even a little.'

Hadrel folded his arms and shrugged. 'Don't know, mamzel. Just, yes, I think if he didn't think us so expendable, this would not have happened. I learned a long time ago that treating your people like gak can only make problems for you down the line, and this is a great example.'

'People? People? You are just mercenaries, your type barely even qualify to be labelled "people". "Scum" "dogs" are more accurate terms. When I bombed those Refectories, it would have made the galaxy a better place.'

'"When"?' said Hadrel. 'You were going to bomb the Refectories no matter what, then?'

'Of course,' said Drevan, as if it was the easiest thing to do in the galaxy. 'I had to make sure to punish the administratum officials for taking them in somehow.'

Rage made Hadrel's face curl into ugliness, and he began toward Drevan, but Enandra's hand on his shoulder stopped him.

'Like our erstwhile master, you have gone off the deep end, Draven,' she said. 'Come, Hadrel, we'll return later.'

'Yes, I think that is the correct thing to do,' said Hadrel. 'Or else I'll slay this fool with my bare hands.'

Drevan smirked behind his beard and seemed to want to make a snarky reply but stopped himself.

Enandra had a good idea of what he wanted to say, something along the lines of "getting killed by scum like you could not have been a more indignant death", which in all likelihood, just make Hadrel kill him there and then in spite of.

And she wasn't sure she would bother to stop him if he did.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Now with his re-breather firmly on his face and his camoleoline cloak wrapped around him, Attelus knelt on a tree branch, a good twenty metres above the forest floor and watched the Sororitas Coven through his scope. It was about two kilometres away and sat atop a man-made plateau raised four hundred and fifty metres high, which loomed over the forest around like some god towering above its peons and a fitting metaphor for humanity's foolish belief that it is above nature. It seemed fitting for the arrogance of those in the Ecclesiarchy.

On the edges of the vertical elevation was a thick stone wall, or what seemed like a stone wall; Attelus couldn't help feel it was reinforced with adamantium rods and rockcrete. That was about five metres high, but he couldn't make out how thick they were at this low angle, but he could at tomes glimpse the three Sisters of Battle patrolling its top in their iconic crimson with white lining armour. The place was run by the Order of the Sacred Journey, an order dedicated to Saint Drusus, a fact that'd been easy as frig to find in his research, but anything else about the damned place was tough to get. Attelus didn't know whether that had been by design or not; Jelcine Enandra was a member of the Ordo Hereticus, so such information should've been in her databanks.

Towering behind that wall wasn't what Attelus would describe as a convent but a frigging cathedral. Standing at least thirty metres tall, the Gothic building was so large it must've left very little room for the space between the building and the wall, leaving its defences much to be desired. That, and the stained glass windows which rose above the wall for another seven metres at least. Attelus supposed their "faith" would allow them to have such windows without worry.

And the shear as frig cliff faces leading up to it, Attelus wasn't looking forward to frigging climbing up that at all. That was the only was of egress he could see from here, at least.

But there was, running up to the plateau from the west, was a thin, winding road that was about twenty degrees steep. Attelus didn't dare try that; the frigging over-zealous Sisters would be watching that like it was a road leading to the Eye of Terror itself.

Attelus sighed and lowered his scope. He couldn't help feel the plateau would likely have some secret entrance to a passage that'd lead up to the convent itself, but even with his enhanced senses, it could take days to find it, and days he didn't have, assuming there was one, anyway. He also wondered if that secret passage might connect to those strange, classified tunnels underground as well.

In all honesty, he hadn't met a member of the Adepta Sororitas before despite working for the Ordo Hereticus. He dreaded interacting with them even more than he dreaded having to climb that cliff.

That's assuming he wasn't shot on sight the split-second he gets caught, of course. Attelus would be deemed a heretic in their eyes even if he wasn't just an intruder.

Even if he was a Throne Agent of the Ordo Hereticus.

His thoughts whirled back to his communication with Arlathan and wondered if the Interrogator's decision not to call the Inquisitor was a good idea, in all honesty. Arlathan said it was because the evidence wasn't strong enough yet, and paranoia for their call being detected by the local authorities. Attelus thought it was also a pride thing for Arlathan; he was afraid Enandra would take over the investigation.

If it weren't for the visor of his re-breather, Attelus would've rubbed his tired eyes. After his encounter with the damned Bark Snake a day ago, his sleep had been fitful. He could sleep and keep his wits about him, but the dreams still plagued him. The faces of the men and women of the Elbyran contingent, both those he'd killed and those who died battling through Kelitia at the whim of him and the Inquisition. Attelus always had a terrible memory for names, but faces he remembered will. Too well, perhaps. At times, in the corner of his eye, he'd catch the rotting corpse of Inquisitor Edracian watching him, but when he tried to turn to it, it'd disappear. Attelus

With another sigh, Attelus began to climb down toward the forest floor. Climbing trees was something he was good at, but climbing that cliff was another thing entirely.

He just hoped they wouldn't regret not reporting this.



'So, that's Quorasita,' said Arlathan as they watched the capital city dominate the huge valley below. Surrounded by a sea of threes lay stacks upon stacks spread over kilometres of clay hab buildings and commercia complexes, churches and all sorts of other places all connected to each other via ceramic bridges wide enough for two-lane roads and walkways. This surrounded four one kilometre wide, by five kilometre long rockcrete boulevards that had statues of saints and Imperial warriors either praying or standing in glorious victory all thirty metres tall. The boulevards led to a tremendous gothic cathedral, which also served as the governmental and administrative bases. A true intermingling of Church and State, managed to loom above the urban stacks around it. It seemed the stacks of habs were made as a wall to protect that place, covered in gargoyles and statues from attackers. Having the Imperial citizens as sacrificial lambs to defend the faith of the Imperial Cult.

Just like the Imperium of Mankind itself.

Both Attelus Kaltos and his master had more in common than Arlathan had with either of them. Arlathan couldn't help wonder what Attelus would think of the city. Attelus would surely hate it, thinking it a gaudy, excessive "overly ostentatious" ugly thing; that was some kind of metaphor for the Ecclesiarchy's self-righteous, self-serving attitude that the resources that went into its making could have been used for something else more important. Arlathan knew Enandra would more than agree with that sentiment. Arlathan was largely apathetic toward it. He held no love for the Imperial Cult and its hold on Imperial society, but he'd accepted that was how the Imperium worked a long time ago and getting angry about it was pointless.

'I've seen some things in my time,' said Tathe. 'But I've got to say that place is pretty damned impressive.'

'Indeed,' said Karmen. 'I read about it and saw picts, but they didn't live up to it. A true testament to the power of humanity and the Imperium of Mankind itself.'

'Seems like a frigging eyesore to me,' said Dellenger as he just suddenly seemed to materialise in front of them, making everyone, even Karmen, jump. 'But I'm just some foot slogging peon, so no one cares what I think.'

'You know that's not true,' said Tathe with a smile.

Dellenger's gaze snapped to the former Commissar. 'I know it is true, and you do too.'

The scout's ancient eyes went back to Arlathan, and Arlathan had to fight from looking away. 'We found a good place for a headquarters, in the southwest mid stacks, part of a recently abandoned hab block that still has power. It isn't in too bad of a condition. Running water, all that good stuff.'

Dellenger then looked at Vex, who didn't manage to keep himself from looking to the ground.

'No access to the local network, I'm afraid, though,' said Dellenger.

'I thought so,' said Vex as he twisted a pinky finger in his ear and frowned, probably frowning because it was Dellenger who came back to report rather than Delathasi. 'We'll have to probably infiltrate the cathedral to plant a device that'll allow me to access it wirelessly. Also, my cogitator, while it is designed to not use much power, the sudden power increase of its usage in an abandoned hab-block might draw some unwanted attention.'

Arlathan nodded. 'We've got sun chargers, so we'll only use the local power if necessary, but it's good to have local power, just in case. Good work, Dellenger, lead the way.'

Arlathan tried to hide his joy at finally escaping this horrid forest and into civilisation, but he knew he was failing miserably. He just hoped his enthusiasm might rub off on the rest of his crew. They all seemed dour and exhausted, with the exception of Tathe, Dellenger and Kalakor, of course.

Frigging bastards.



Enandra had decided she would have Hayden come to her rather than go to him. The exceedingly handsome man sat across from her desk. Two Stormtroopers stood right behind him and at his flanks while Hadrel and another five Stormtroopers lurked on the right side, watching Hayden. Selva, as usual, sulked alongside them.

'Throne Agent, Hayden Tresch,' she said. 'You have been an excellent employee.'

Hayden pursed his lips, a decidedly childish look for such a mature man; he'd refused to meet her gaze since he'd entered her quarters a few minutes ago. 'Yeah, yeah, I know. That's why I shouldn't be cooped up here instead of doing something useful.'

Enandra shrugged, although it was a bit hard while being in her power armour. Even weaponless, someone like Hayden Tresch was not to be underestimated. 'Your humility shames us all, Tresch. What happened back at Sarkeath?'

Hayden sneered, contorting his good looks into something almost hideous. 'Why do you care? Attelus Kaltos, I'm sure, has given his own skewed version of those events-'

'Yes, he did,' said Enandra, growling the syllables through her clenched teeth. 'And believe it or not, Hayden Tresch, he himself was the most critical of his leadership during the entire operation, almost demanding I take him from leadership duties. Which I did, somewhat.'

Hayden shrugged. 'All I did was perform my duties the best I can, which is far and above anyone else in this organisation. I made no mistakes, unlike Attelus Kaltos. I did what I saw was right. That's all.'

'That including murdering Imperial citizens at the behest of a heretic?'

Finally, Hayden's eyes met hers, and he smirked, 'I am glad you didn't call them "innocent" Imperial citizens.'

Enandra couldn't help roll her eyes. 'Whether you are gladdened or not by my verbiage is immaterial. I do not adhere to that saying many others religiously adhere to: "Innocence Proves Nothing" I just neglected to use that word as I cannot, honestly, make such a claim as I was not there.'

Hayden shrugged again, like a sulking child or like Vex Carpompter. 'What exactly did Attelus Kaltos and the others tell you in their report?'

It was Enandra's turn to purse her lips, unprepared for his bluntness, and considered telling him; she knew that Attelus and the others had held things back, and maybe Hayden would inform her more truthfully. But she quickly decided it would be pointless; surely Karmen Kons would've manipulated his memories to make him believe the same things as the rest. Sometimes, Enandra regretted employing such a powerful and skilled psyker with such a penchant for dodgy mental manipulations.

'No,' said Enandra. 'No, I don't think I will.'

The sniper grimaced and shrugged. 'Oka...alright, then why did you bring me here?'

Enandra raised an eyebrow and lounged back in her chair. 'To ask you questions to allay my...Inquisitive nature, of course. Why were you so keen to kill those civilians?'

It was Hayden's turn to raise an eyebrow. 'So we could go on to finish our mission and to not die a frigging hideous death. It could be interpreted as a mercy by some.' It was either them or all of us.

'Indeed, some would,' said Enandra. 'How did you know that if you killed those people, that General Tathe would have even let you live?'

'I didn't, I suppose,' said Hayden. 'But it didn't matter at the time. I felt, though, he would; it spoke to his desperation to...turn us, I suppose.'

'I see, so you know that the act of killing those people would have been an act of selling you souls to Chaos? Even in the heat of that moment.'

That made Hayden straighten, then black rage coursed across his face as he seemed to realise the corner she'd backed him into; it made Hadrel and the Stormtroopers aim their guns at him while Selva raised a palm.

The rage seemed to fade as quickly as it came, and a sullen frown replaced it, and Hayden's eyes fell.

'If you're going to kill me, just kill me already, please.'

'No, I don't think I will,' said Enandra again, trying to keep a smirk from her face. 'I am glad you admitted that. And why did you lack the belief that Attelus and the others would save you?'

Hayden glared at her. 'His incompetence was laid bare all through that scenario, mamzel Inquisitor. I also believed...that it would be impossible for them to do so. That we were trapped, well and truly.'

'You weren't, though,' said Enandra as she rubbed her eyes and sighed. 'Look, Hayden Tresch, I understand your position, I do, like I understood Attelus' position back on Omnartus, but...'

'But what?'

'But, I don't know, all I know is that you came the closest to any one of the team to losing your soul to the Ruinous Powers, knowingly, it seems as well. I don't know if I can trust you from now on. Maybe I should just have you shot right here and now. Many Inquisitors would, as I am sure you are aware.'

Hayden suddenly slammed his palm on her desk and glared at her. 'Frig it! What about Attelus and the others, he-'

Enandra raised her hand, cutting him short. 'This is not about any of them, just you. It wasn't you who stood against the slaughter of those people; it was Tathe and Dellenger who showed true courage in a no-win situation. It wasn't you who managed to overcome the control of a daemonic weapon to regain themselves and throw it from his grasp! That was Attelus Kaltos! It wasn't you who chose to fight a Bloodthirster to save a comrade; that was Karmen Kons, Marcel Torris, Delathasi, Halsin, Adelana, Delathasi and the dearly departed Jelket, Helma and Verenth! While I do not trust them entirely as well. I have sent them on a...test as we speak. When are you going to admit to your mistake and take responsibility? We all make mistakes; we are all wrong from time to time. Admitting that will be the first step to learning from it and becoming a better person. You aren't perfect. No one is. You must see that. You must see that.'

'It was not a mistake!' Hayden cried. 'The ends justifies the means, doesn't it?'

'Sometimes it does,' said Enandra. 'But not that time. Not that time.'

Hayden said nothing; he just looked at her with wide eyes, his jaw twitching.

Enandra sighed and stroked her face. 'Take him back to his cell, please.'

The two Stormtroopers grabbed Hayden by the shoulders, hauled him to his feet and led him out, and the other five followed.

Selva waved at Enandra to get her attention and, with quick slaps, signed her sentence. The psyker's face was a pinched morass of pale bemused frustration. Selva was one of Enandra's oldest agents, and she knew the psyker's moods well, that and how terribly open and unsubtle she was with them. Enandra also knew exactly what Selva was going to say a long time ago.

'No, I am not going to just execute him,' said Enandra.

Selva grimaced and signed even quicker, so fast that anyone not as familiar as Enandra would find it impossible to follow, even with the simplicity of it.

'Why? Because he's one of my best agents, I believe that everyone deserves a second chance. I had a second chance, didn't I? Didn't you? I must be consistent, and I feel all Hayden Tresch must do is take responsibility for his mistake and-'

The psyker snarled a silent snarl and replied somehow even faster than before.

Enandra rolled her eyes. 'Yes, even when they omit some information from me, as much as it...upsets me, they do so. Now, please gain control of your emotions. You must not lose control over your ability.'

Selva glared at her for a second or two before she stamped her foot and stormed out.

Hadrel shuffled his foot.

'You have something to say, Hadrel?'

Hadrel shrugged. 'It seems you are having problems in your organisation, mamzel.'

'Nothing I cannot handle, thank you.'

'Oh I am sure, but that Attelus Kaltos, is...'

'A huge pain in the arse?'

'That is putting it lightly. Do you...regret taking him into your organisation, mamzel?'

Enandra pursed her lips and pondered on that for a second. 'Yes, I do. Right now, I do, anyway,' she said.

"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Hayden sat on his bed as the door to his cell slammed shut. He sighed and rubbed his eyes before looking up at the ceiling. What the frig was everyone up to? He did nothing wrong; he tried to do what needed to be done-

You are correct.

The voice made him start and glance everywhere for its source, but he was alone.

Do not be afraid, Hayden Tresch. I am here to aid you.

'Who are you?'

A friend, someone who admires your abilities and who believes your acts are justified.

'Yes, of course, they are. I do not need you to tell me that.'

No, no, I don't; I just wish you to know that I agree with you. Truly and fully. That you are being wasted, your talents squandered by being locked in this cell while less talented and...perfect agents are doing assignments and most assuredly messing them up. Agents such as that little fool Attelus Xanthis Kaltos.

Hayden smiled, but he shook it away.

'I...I should not be listening to a voice in my head that claims to be my friend.'

And why not? It is a free galaxy, is it not? Despite what so many claim what you can and cannot do, it is still a free place, so why not? I understand you, Hayden. I know as well as you how you are the best at everything.

Hayden grimaced. 'I'm not the best at everything, Darrance...Attelus Kaltos...and...Castella Lethe was a far better sword wielders than me.'

Ah, yes, but if you applied even a tenth of the time they did at swordplay, you would be as good, if not better than all of them.

Hayden smiled, but he didn't shake it away; he'd always secretly thought the same thing.

See? See? You know it as well. That is the truth, my friend, and everyone knows it, and that is why you are in here.

'What? What do you mean?'

They are jealous, Hayden Tresch. All of them see how talented you are, and they envy you. They fear your true potential that you will surpass them—most especially Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus.

'You think so?'

I know so, Hayden. I know so. Have you ever wondered why that mediocre fool Arlathan Karkin was promoted to the Interrogator position, not you?

'Yes, but-'

But nothing you should have been made her Interrogator. You should have led the mission to Sarkeath instead of that naive, foolish boy Attelus Kaltos. That is just a fact. Inquisitor Enandra is holding you back because she is afraid if you became an Inquisitor like her, you would be one of the greatest Inquisitors the Imperium of Mankind would ever see. She's afraid you would surpass her, that you would eclipse you! Just as she surpassed her master Devan Torathe but on a far grander scale.

Hayden pursed his lips; he knew what was happening, he knew what this was, but he was finding it hard to care. He held Enandra no real loyalty and no real loyalty to the Imperium of Mankind, yet he had fought tooth and nail for them over the last three years, and this is what he got for it? Everyone lecturing him for a logical, pragmatic call and being kept in this damned cell.

'Besides stroking my ego, friend, what else can you offer me?' said Hayden, hoping he would not regret this.

The voice's reply was laughter.



Attelus made sure it was nighttime when he approached the cliff face. Wrapped in his camoleoline cloak and crouch walking, he moved in silence through the thickest bush on the side of his approach. Despite this, he thought yet again that the likes of Dellenger, or hell, Hayden Tresch, would be better candidates for this mission. The thought of Hayden Tresch made Attelus wonder how the sniper was fairing; he hoped he was well and overcome his pride soon; there were few people Attelus would rather watch his back, Karmen Kons and Adelana, the other two and perhaps, Kalakor.

Kalakor would've been a much better candidate too. The best candidate by far, but there was no use thinking too much about it, this was the job he was given, and he was going to do it to the best of his ability. Attelus would prove he could work alone and prove his loyalty to the Inquisitor, no matter what.

He gazed up at the steep, almost featureless rock face, which could only be man-made and slipped on his spiked climbing gloves over his armoured ones, looking now, perhaps it was better he did this than Hayden or Dellenger. His enhanced body would likely handle the climb better, even if he weren't as experienced as Hayden at mountaineering and that sort of gak.

With a sigh, Attelus plunged the monomolecular blades into the rock, and they embedded in satisfactorily, but it took him a couple of tugs to pull it out; he wasn't looking forward to doing that over and over again.

Sighing again, Attelus frowned; he knew the Ecclesiarchy's technological aspects were by and far behind that of the rest of the Imperium's main factions, and his syn skin bodyglove would make him nigh undetectable, he couldn't help feeling that if Soloston were here, he'd have placed enhanced detectors and auspex that could somehow bypass the syn skin's tech, just in case someone tried to do this gak. Attelus would make it all the way up to the top of that wall only to find a dozen bolter barrels in his face.

That was what Attelus would do, anyway.

Again, Attelus shook away such thoughts; here he was, overthinking things yet again. If that did happen, he'd just have to adapt; he was immortal, after all, so he could try again and again and again and again.

If he didn't lose his mind in the process.

Attelus began to slip on the rest of the climbing equipment with a long exhale.

This was where the fun frigging began...



Dellenger had learned a long time ago that there weren't individual ghettos across the Imperium of Mankind; it was all one unfathomably colossal ghetto. This damned place included.

Perched on top of a commercia building, his camoleoline cloak wrapped around him as he watched the crowded, darkness endowed boulevard below. Hundreds of thousands of pilgrims and locals coated every inch of the rockcrete around the massive cathedral. They held candles and were silent in prayer.

As far as Dellenger knew, there wasn't any special Imperial celebration on this date.

With a grimace, he checked his wrist chron, it was 9 pm local time, and they'd been standing for an hour now; Dellenger hoped like all frigging hell this wouldn't last much longer, and they didn't do this every frigging night, or else it'll complicate their infiltration attempts in the near future. Dellenger wouldn't put it past these zealots to do this every single frigging night. Dellenger hoped one of the more social Throne Agents would find that out soon.

If these Emperor-botherers did, they might have to resort to Kalakor's abilities, and they were very much wanted to keep that hidden away from the others.

Dellenger frowned, rubbed his eyes, took out his scope and panned it across the cathedral, trying to catch a glimpse of something anything behind those stained glass windows, but got nothing. He tried to, despite knowing the futility of it, look through the tinted windows of the lead-lined windows of the stories above. He looked over the crowd and-

He froze as he glimpsed the hooded, cloaked form facing away from the cathedral and looking right at him through the round, green lenses of some kind of rebreather. With clenched teeth, Dellenger shot his gaze back to the silhouette, but it'd disappeared.

gak! What the frig was that? Could it have been one of their enemy's agents? That frigging bastard Tolbik or Serghar Kaltos?

Dellenger slipped away his scope and began back toward headquarters; the others would need to know about this.



Arlathan sat on the mouldy old couch in the living room, staring at the old broken monitor, and tapped the tips of his fingers on the leather. Vex sat at his cogitator in the corner, absently tapping at the type board. They would begin undercover work soon, but first, the scouts had to canvas the city. That took time, even with the likes of Dellenger, Darrance, Delathasi and Kalakor doing it. At times like this, Arlathan wished he was more specialised so he could go out there with the other stealth specialists instead of sitting it out here on his hands.

That Kalakor surprised Arlathan the most, how a two-metre giant such as him could move so silent and be so invisible. Besides the Space Marines that'd attempted to kill him, Attelus and the others during their escape of Omnartus, Arlathan had yet to meet one until him. Yet again, Attelus Kaltos was the one who encountered the strange characters. Kalakor was from the Raven Guard, and they were famous for their stealth skill, but it was one thing to hear about, but it was another thing to see it.

Or not see it, as the case may be.

In the corner of his eye, Arlathan caught Vex glaring at him, so Arlathan made sure to drum even harder.

He did this for a good ten seconds before Vex finally growled, 'Can you stop that, please.'

'Why? Is it interrupting you from your all-important monitoring of local vox channels?'

Vex sighed. 'Yes, I might find something, you know?'

'I Doubt it,' said Arlathan, but he stopped his drumming.

Silence hung in the place again, and according to Arlathan's constant looking at his wrist-chron, it was five minutes before Vex broke the silence.

'You alright, Arlathan? Ever since we've made landing, you've been so...grumpy.'

Arlathan wanted to blurt out he was pissed there was yet another competitor for Inquisitor's affections. He now had to work with him, too. He was a great and famous hero who could easily overshadow him as a leader and more than qualified to be another Interrogator under the Inquisitor. 'Probably because we had to trek miles through that damned gakky forest, Vex,' he said instead, which was the truth, as Attelus' said so very often ", the best way to lie was to tell the truth."

Vex shrugged and muttered, 'And people say I'm the whiner.'

Arlathan grimaced, about to snarl a rebuke at him, but his micro-bead chiming made him reach for his ear. 'What is it?'

'The scouts have arrived back,' said Kollath, who so happened to be one of the guards on duty. 'As per schedule, they're on their way up to you now, but the pretty boy frig Dellenger is missing.

That made Arlathan sit up on his couch beside the Space Marine Dellenger seemed the most likely to come back on time.

'You want me to send out a few men to search for him?' said Kollath.

'No,' said Arlathan. He didn't want to risk anyone seeing Inquisitorial Stormtroopers wandering about, even if that was unlikely. Still, he wouldn't admit that to Kollath and hurt the frig-head's precious feelings, even though he would enjoy that. 'Dellenger can more than handle himself. We'll finish the briefing, and he hasn't arrived; I'll send out the other recon specialists to find him.'

There was a pause, and for a second, Arlathan thought Kollath might question him, for all his faults, being a smug arse-head, Kollath was professional enough to leave that part of himself on the wayside during a mission.

'Yeah, got you,' said Kollath, then cut the link.

Again, Arlathan caught Vex looking at him. 'What, Carpompter?'

'We going to tell the Commissar about this?'

The almighty Delan Tathe was a few rooms down the corridor, likely sleeping and off-watch duty. Arlathan wondered how the Commissar felt being reduced to such mundane "dog-soldier" assignments as a low-ranking Throne Agent as long as that might last. He didn't seem to mind, but Arlathan secretly hoped the Commissar was chafing even a little about it.

'Let him sleep,' said Arlathan. 'I'm sure Dellenger will be fine, and the Commissar would know that.'

Vex still looked at Arlathan, seeming very unconvinced.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2023/04/21 01:48:01


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Dellenger had been fighting to lose his tail for a while, but they kept after him no matter how hard he tried. He counted at least seven of them, and while their numbers helped, it'd been a long, long time since he'd had such trouble with enemy stealthers, a fact he should not have been surprised at; this was Inquisitorial Black-Ops, a whole new, foreign world to him, despite how much it hurt his pride. Dellenger tried to rationalise it by thinking the enemy was using some kind of tech or sorcery to be able to stick to him like adhesive. On the very first official mission as a Throne Agent, it seemed he'd found his match was pretty damned soul-destroying.

It had to be their main enemy's agents; Dellenger had first-hand seen their skill and enhanced abilities. It had to be; if it was them, it was unlikely he could defeat them, maybe one, but two? Three? But he couldn't keep this dance going on for much longer; he had to turn and confront them soon. Why did they have to choose him?

A stealth battle like this was a complex, subtle thing. Dellenger knew they wanted him to lead them back to their hideout, but he sure as frig wouldn't let that happen, not until he was positive he'd lost them, which seemed to be more and more implausible now, much to his frustration. So, he needed to find a good place to try to ambush them, but until then, Dellenger needed to keep moving and as chaotically as possible. He couldn't go to the base, but he couldn't avoid that part of the city either, as where he did go and where he didn't go would likely clue their enemy into the general position of their headquarters. He couldn't stay too long around it either.

Dellenger had a map of Quorasita in his pocket that he'd looked over dozens and dozens of times since they'd left the Audacious Edge a few days ago. But looking at a map was an entirely different thing than exploring the city first-hand, hence why they'd been doing this scouting mission in the first place. It was also likely their enemy had been in the city for longer than them, so they knew the best places for an ambush far better than Dellenger.

As he leapt over another alleyway, he felt the presence as it lunged through the gap just after him. A frigging presence he hadn't noticed until now.

Dellenger landed and spun, his knife drawn and flashing in the moonlight as he slashed out desperately. The monomolecular blade sliced through flesh and rib, much to Dellenger's surprise. The figure cried out in agony and fell onto his back, writhing on the rooftop, allowing his comrades to close in.

Four figures seemed to emerge from the night, their forms reflecting their surroundings in a bulging, distorted way. The only thing visible was their rebreathers. Behind him, Dellenger felt three more moving in to surround him... The fact they have cameleoline over camoleoline cloaks already spoke of their technological capabilities. They ignored their writhing, dying comrade on the ground. An inhuman act Dellenger knew their enemy's agents were more than capable of.

Dellenger dreaded talking to these fools, so he stayed still, knife raised and beneath his camoleoline cloak, and took hold of his lasgun.

'Who are you?' said the vox-distorted voice; it croaked from the grill of the middle one on the left side and sounded like a droning ornithopter blade. Dellenger made sure to keep his attention forwards as the way the voice echoed made it seem they didn't want the hearer to know who'd said it, but it was obvious to his attuned hearing.

It only took Dellenger a second to consider his answer, and he couldn't help but let a smile cross his face as he said, 'Serghar Kaltos.'

One of the figures started slightly at the mention of the name, and it took a good few seconds for the speaker to reply. 'As in the infamous assassin, Serghar Kaltos? You do not fit his description.'

Dellenger shrugged; they had no idea how much information they'd just given away from just that one sentence alone if they weren't grox gaking him, of course. Dellenger was never the best at reading people, especially when he couldn't see their faces.

The speaker didn't say anything more, but Dellenger could hear the faint click of a connecting vox-link and the muffled exchange of conversation but couldn't make out the words, and to their credit, they kept their gazes strictly on Dellenger, so he couldn't tell who was speaking to whom.

After a few seconds, the vox clicked again. The speaker said, 'Even with the possibility of reconstructive surgery, we do not believe you are Serghar Kaltos, even with how you have managed to evade us until now.'

Dellenger just shrugged again.

'Who do you work for?' demanded the speaker, seeming to realise the futility of asking Dellenger his name again.

'Take a wild guess.'

'You are Inquisition.'

Dellenger didn't reply; he didn't even blink.

'You are Inquisition,' said one of the other enemies behind Dellenger's back. 'We knew you would come despite our best efforts. But you have fallen into our trap, and when there is one Inquisitorial fool, there is always more you are like vermin and-'

The ranter was interrupted as Dellenger opened fire with his lasgun, racking a fully automatic barrage that perforated through the four enemies in front of him in a burst of pink haze. At the same time, Dellenger dropped to the deck, so the impressively rapid gunshots of the remaining enemies spat through empty air. Their suppressed autoguns were familiar wet kisses in Dellenger's ears.

As he fell, Dellenger dropped his knife, took a photon-flash grenade from one of his pouches and tossed it behind him, hoping to hell and back their masks didn't make them immune, or else he'd be very dead, very soon.

The sound of their warped, pained cries almost made him convulse with relief, and he rolled to face them, Lasgun shooting. Two of the three were cut down and thrown off their feet. But the last one managed to let off a few blind shots, but it didn't last long before Dellenger had retrieved his knife, lunged the distance between them and plunged the tip through the attacker's shoulder, and together they crashed on the roof. Dellenger pinned the attacker by the throat with his knee.

Dellenger twisted the blade, causing the man to gurgle and gasp, the attacker's fingers scrambling against his thigh.

'You're a talkative one, aren't you?' said Dellenger. 'If you keep being talkative like that, you'll be spared the agony that will make my knife in your shoulder seem like nothing very soon.'



Attelus awoke with a start and couldn't help crying out as his mind comprehended the fact he was a good four hundred metres off the ground and hanging off the surface of a sheer cliff face. Luckily he was still wearing his re-breather, so his cry was a mere muffled mutter in the wind. Despite fighting the urge, he looked down to the forest canopy long below and had to fight to gain control of his heart as it crashed inside his ribcage, making every inch of him pulse painfully with the fear.

He hadn't meant to fall asleep; he didn't even know he'd fallen asleep.

It took Attelus a few minutes to calm himself down, doing so with long, slow breaths, but when the panic disappeared, so did the adrenaline rush, which allowed the pain to rush back. The ache eclipsed his every inch, causing him to cry out again through gritted teeth.

Gasping and groaning through gritted teeth, Attelus pushed his forehead against the rock, begging for the pain to stop or abate even slightly. Hoping Faleaseen's voice would emerge into his mind, she'd magically stop it, but it never happened. He'd pushed himself too hard and too fast, even beyond his enhanced strength and endurance. But time was of the frigging essence; he had to.

The pain didn't subside, but his body seemed to acclimatise to it, allowing Attelus to look up finally. There was no sign of the top of the plateau, only the ninety-degree overhang at the wall's top, but he knew he only had about fifty or so metres left to climb.

Attelus rolled his eyes; fifty or so metres that'll probably be harder to ascend than the last two hundred metres combined. He slipped his hand from the climbing glove and began to try to rub some feeling into the other while checking the time on his wrist chron. He only had a few hours before dawn. He very much wasn't looking forward to traversing that overhang. He'd been given rushed as frig lessons on climbing before flying to the surface, he'd received a few over the years, but nothing prepared him for this. Attelus had been somewhat blase about falling before, but now he was desperate not to, even more so than if he knew he'd die permanently. He sure as frig didn't want to go through this gak all over again. Then if he fell again, he'd have to try again and...it'd be like that mythological figure of ancient Terra Scykiphus who the gods cursed to push a boulder up a hill until he reached the top, where it'd roll back down again. It seemed to be a fitting comparison to this situation right now.

After rubbing the other hand for a while, Attelus exhaled, and after three exhales, he tugged the blades from the rock. The act made more pain course up his arm, making him growl again. It took him a long time to raise his palm and try to push it back into the rock, but he didn't do it quite hard enough. The blades bounced away in a shower of sparks. The impact jarred his pain beyond before as his arm flung down, falling right for his thigh, but he managed to stop it from punching into muscle tissue even through the pain and his whirling mind.

Roaring with agony, Attelus cursed with all his heart Enandra's name for sending him on this assignment, his father's name for being a psychopathic gak-head, Soloston's name Etuarq's name. Even the Emperor a few times, as he repeatedly banged his head against the cliff.

According to his wrist chron, it took him about six minutes to regain control of himself, but it'd felt like hours.

He shot his attention upwards; after everything he'd been through, this was nothing. This was physical pain, which was nothing compared to the mental and emotional pain he'd endured.

Roaring, he smashed his palm into the rock above, then tugged out the blade of his boot gauntlet, making pain blast up his leg; he growled out, but he endured it as he kicked it back into the cliff.

He dreaded how much exhaustion and the agony was going to grow to be when he finally, finally reached the top and how he would cope with that during the infiltration itself, but by the Emperor, he frigging well will make it. He frigging well will!


Dellenger turned to Arlathan as he, Tathe and Karmen approached. The scout stood guard at the door to the bathroom they'd used as an improvised prison for the captive. Dellenger saluted smartly, but much to Arlathan's chagrin, the newly minted Throne Agent's gaze was on Tathe, not him. Arlathan let it go; they'd been working together for so long that it must have been instinctive rather than purposefully disrespectful.

'How fairs the prisoner?' said Arlathan.

Dellenger turned to Arlathan as if he'd only just realised he was there and shrugged, 'Kept silent, mostly, beside his pained moaning, of course. Especially when Halsin looked him over.'

Tathe nodded. 'They managed to keep up with you, huh? That scares the crap out of me.'

Dellenger shrugged again. 'I'm just hoping I managed to take down the...enemies capable of it.'

'Any ideas how they managed it?' said Tathe.

'Technology? Psychic crap? Sorcery? I've got quite a few ideas while I'm trying to qualify it to be anything besides "they're better than me" or "I'm losing my touch" or both.'

'Remember, you are still recovering from your injuries, Dellenger,' said Tathe.

'And you are still coping with the loss of most of your comrades, as well,' said Karmen. 'So your psychological capabilities are in flux, as well. Please do not be so hard on yourself.'

Dellenger's gaze met hers for a few seconds before he pursed his lips and looked to the floor, and silence hung in the air.

'Alright,' said Arlathan, trying not to speak through clenched teeth. 'We need to speak to the prisoner, please.'

Dellenger nodded, opened the door for them, and they walked into the bathroom. Two Stormtroopers sat on a pair of battered old chairs watching the captive as he sat with his back against the northern wall, his wrist cuffed to the steel drainage pipe. His head slumped forwards, and his shoulder was wrapped in bandages. The prisoner's gaze shot up at them as they entered. He seemed in his middle age, with a scraggy greying beard and long hair that covered much of his face. His skin seemed pallid and unhealthy, his hooded eyes ringed by almost black bags. His deep frown was distinct, even behind his beard and fringe. Karmen in her power armour stole his attention the most, that and maybe because she was a damned good-looking woman.

Arlathan approached the man and clicked his fingers beneath his nose, making him look up at him.

'Hello there,' said Arlathan. 'I am Interrogator Arlathan Karkin of the Holy Ordos. You know what that means don't you?'

The captive gave Arlathan a slight nod; his dark eyes twinkled with rage and hatred.

Arlathan crouched before the man, so they almost came nose-to-nose. 'Good, good, so you must have a good idea that my title is literal? That I am well versed in the art of interrogation and that I will make you talk, no matter what, so, can we just dispense with all that pain and effort and time, and you just answer my questions, please?'

The captive tried to spit in Arlathan's face, but he was ready for it and tiled his head out of the way just in time.

'They always do that,' said Arlathan as his hand shot out and clasped around the man's mouth and began to squeeze, making the captive growl out. 'It's such a cliche now. So, if you want the opportunity to try spit in my face again, please cooperate.'

The man kept groaning.

'Nod, if you understand me.'

The captive managed a nod, so Arlathan let go.

'So, are you going to cooperate?' said Arlathan.

The man tried to spit again, but again Arlathan dodged it. 'So predictable,' he said and looked at one of the Stormtroopers. 'Get me my kit, please.'

The Stormtrooper stood. 'Yes, sir,' he said, then left.

Sighing, Arlathan looked over his shoulder at Karmen. 'You ready?'

She nodded grimly, they'd done this many times together over the years, but he knew she hated this despite her strong adherence to pragmatism. Despite his act, Arlathan didn't enjoy it either, but they were short of time and had no choice in the matter.

Arlathan looked back to the captive. 'I gave you the opportunity to do this easily. Remember, what is about to come next is your choice. A choice you will soon come to regret very, very soon.'


So lost in his world of pain and the whirling, horrific wind, he didn't notice the overhang until he hit it with his head, but Attelus was climbing so slowly, it didn't hurt at all.

He looked up at it, struggling to comprehend that he'd finally managed to make it. Then the realisation that this would be by far the hardest part of this damned climb.

Shaking himself back to his rather tenuous sanity, Attelus slipped his hand out of the climbing gauntlet and switched on his wrist auspex. It took him longer to achieve such a feat than it should've; the pain had slowly whittled away, and now it felt like everything from his neck had been hollowed out, like he'd been decapitated, and his body had developed a sapience of its own. A sapience that made him miss the activation stud four times before finally finding it. Attelus did feel it shudder into life and, along with it, came the spreading of painful pins and needles, which travelled up his arm and caused Attelus to clench his teeth and curse. It also connected wirelessly to his micro-bead, allowing him to hear the alarm without others hearing it too.

It didn't go away either, as it seemed to zip around beneath his skin across his every inch.

While fighting to ignore it, Attelus checked the wrist auspex; no sign of any life signs above him, but the stone and rockcrete could be playing hell with the readout. Enandra had given it to him for this mission; it was a bulky ancient thing that eclipsed much of his forearm that Enandra had "inherited" from her former master after the battle against his forces on The Imperial Crusher three years ago.

Attelus looked up at the black void of the overhang again and hissed a 'gak' through his clenched teeth. He wanted to look down but fought the urge, now was the worst time to look down, and the terror at the prospect of falling was stronger than ever. Especially because a long time ago, the unwelcome image of him being impaled on a tree, dying and coming back to life into a world of unfathomable agony over and over again had flashed through his mind.

A fate worse than death, indeed.

Inhaling and exhaling three times like before, Attelus tugged out a gauntlet and then, with a snarl, smashed it into the stone. Much to his relief, it stuck fast; he pushed a button on the gauntlet, making the blades curl and crunch to stick horizontally deep inside the stone. Attelus then punched the other one in, keeping the blades straight.

Hyperventilating now, Attelus then pulled the blade on his boot gauntlet, and it dropped so fast it made his heart sink before it stopped, hanging out in empty air. That made him really dread pulling out the other foot.

He clenched his teeth and, without any more hesitation, tore the second boot out. The world became a haze of utter terror as his body swung out, making more pain cut through him and to cry out.

Gasping, Attelus could no longer keep himself from looking down past his dangling boots and to the trees hundreds of metres below. It seemed to hypnotise him, but it didn't send a wave of terror through him; instead, a strong sense of pride hit him. He had managed to climb this without anyone else's help; he'd managed to climb a surface designed to be impossible to climb in a matter of hours. He doubted anyone else had worked this over the centuries this place had existed.

Frig it; if he'd managed to make it this far, he could make it all the damned way.

Attelus tore his attention upwards and ripped out his gauntlet, and plunged it into the stone again. He pushed the button to make the blades flatten, then made the blades straighten on the last gauntlet, pulled that out and pushed it in further onwards.

It was a frigging slow process, much slower than he could've imagined; his pain-addled, exhausted mind forced him to stop for a few seconds to fight to remember which gauntlet had its blades curled and which one didn't. He also had to keep glancing over his shoulder to make damn sure to keep track of his position in conjunction with the edge.

After what seemed like days, and his upper body throbbing with constant agony, Attelus found the edge. He halted there as close as possible, and it allowed him to look up to the top of the wall.

Much to his disbelief, he only had five or so metres left!

Emboldened by this revelation but still making sure to check his gauntlets, he tore one of them out and, with a growl, plunged it into the wall. He never thought that beginning to climb up a vertical slope would be such a relief, and slowly, he began to ascend.

It took him a good ten minutes to climb high enough to be able to plant his feet. As he did, the urge to stop and just take a short rest hit him, but he clenched his teeth and shook it away. Now would be the worst time to take a break, so he continued clambering upwards.

He made it about halfway up when the ringing in his ear penetrated his hazed mind, and he froze. Attelus had no idea how long the ringing had been going for before he'd managed to comprehend it. The shadow of movement above caught the corner of his eye; it was about three metres away, moving behind the buttress close to the edge.

Attelus cursed through clenched teeth; just his frigging luck that right now, one of the Sisters of Battle patrollers just so happened to pass by now! The damned auspex had been a pain in the arse, but he may have failed to spot her at all if it wasn't for that.

His mind reeled as the movement flashed closer and closer. The powerful wind wouldn't allow him to hide beneath his cameleoline cloak. He couldn't risk just staying here, so he had only one choice. Attelus looked down; that horrible view was no longer inspiring; it just made the vision of him impaled on top of a tree, dying over and over again. It made agony shoot through his diaphragm. He glanced up and down a few times, hoping the shadow would slow or even stop, but by now, he should've known his luck would never allow that to happen. So he began to tug out the blades one by one until only his right hand remained.

'gak!' he whimpered. 'gak! gak! gak!'

Then he pulled the last gauntlet out.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2023/04/21 01:49:14


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Adelana tugged the book out of the returns cart but paused as she began to slip it onto the shelf. She turned to Seleen, who was taking books from her cart a few metres away.

'Hey, Seleen,' said Adelana.

'Yeah?' said the woman turning to her.

'How do you think Attelus...and the others are doing?'

Seleen smiled knowingly, 'Good question. He's probably doing something crazy dangerous and insane as normal.'

Seleen's words didn't bring Adelana any comfort, so she bit her lip and said nothing more as she placed the book back.



Attelus had no time to scream as he fell, as his guts seemed to drop into his toes and his heart lodged in his throat. He had less than a split second, according to Attelus' very rough calculations, a time his usual self would have no trouble with. But not now, not now.

With all his remaining strength, Attelus punched the blades into the wall, only a few centimetres from the edge. But it didn't stop him short as he'd hoped; the blades continued to slide down through the stone.

He cried out through clenched teeth as he scrambled to smash the other gauntlet into the wall, but his panic made him only flail out like a ranting child. But just as it came to the corner, the blades finally found purchase, and he stopped dead, his feet dangling over the sea of green hundreds of metres below.

And while all of this happened, the binging in his ears became faster and faster.

Snarling, he plunged his left gauntlet into the overhang, and while hissing, 'Come on, come on,' he waited for the blades to curl. It seemed like hours before they did, so he let himself hang out of sight and punched his right gauntlet up.

Then he waited, cursing and snarling through his constant gasping. The beeping from his micro-bead seemed to curl around his skull and inside his brain. He dearly wanted to turn the damned Auspex off, but he needed it.

Eventually, the warbling began to slow down, and, in all honesty, Attelus was more glad that it was disappearing than the fact the patrolling Sister was finally going away.

Groaning, he began to climb again; he couldn't let another second go to waste.


Attelus' legs almost gave way from under him when his feet found the walkway floor. But he managed to keep his feet, hunker down and wrap his cameleoline cloak around him. He couldn't believe it; he couldn't frigging believe he'd managed to make it!

He shook away his elation and blinked back his tiredness; Attelus then surveyed his surroundings. The walkway was a good five metres wide and made from rockcrete as he thought it would.

On the roof sat an empty landing pad, which he'd seen in the orbital picts and where he planned to make his incursion. The convent loomed overhead, further away from the wall than he thought. At least a good twenty metres.

With pained, numb fingers, he reached into a pouch on his webbing and slipped out his grapnel hook; then he realised his mistake; in his exhaustion, he'd forgotten about it until now. If he'd used it to ascend to the outcrop, it could've saved him a lot of trouble.

With a sigh, Attelus forced his body to move; he had to find a good place to ascend the convent without being spotted and maybe, just maybe, he might find a place up there to rest. Attelus had vastly underestimated how hard that climb would be, and he'd already thought it'd be horrific. He briefly considered using one of the stimm injectors in his pack but shook away the thought. It wasn't a combat enhancement stimm, just to give a short burst of energy and clear the head of the user. He only had six and using them when the real infiltration began, namely when he got inside, was wiser as he'd be far less likely to find a place to rest there. Attelus hadn't wanted to take them at first, but Enandra had outright ordered him to, and by frig, he was glad she did.

By the Emperor, he needed some sleep. "Some sleep" means a whole Terran winter's worth, but he would be lucky to get even an hour in this situation.

And Attelus Xanthis Kaltos had learned a long time ago that he could never rely on his "luck" at all.

Never.



Arlathan emerged from the bathroom as he slipped his bloody rubber gloves off.

'Any progress?' said Tathe, as he and Dellenger stood in wait in the corridor; just behind him were Vex and Darrance, both watching with wide eyes.

Arlathan glanced at Karmen as she closed the door behind them, and she shook her head.

'The bastard's tough,' said Arlathan. 'Even with the pain I caused, his mind stays closed to Karmen, it seems. Frig, I don't like resorting to this gak, but we haven't the time to muck around, damn it.

'I didn't hear any screams,' said Darrance.

'No,' said Karmen. 'I had his jaw shut closed with my telekinesis; we cannot afford anyone out there hearing that. We didn't question him verbally if you catch my drift.'

'We do,' said Darrance. 'No fear of your use of psychic abilities might be detected?'

Karmen frowned and rolled her eyes. 'It is a very subtle use of my powers, Saderth. You would need an individual with psychic powers only a few metres away to detect it.'

Darrance pursed his lips and shrugged, his arms folding across his chest, making him look even more feminine despite now having short hair. 'Just asking, found anything on the prisoner himself? Anything about him and who he works for?'

'His skin is pallid, almost grey,' said Arlathan. 'He seems unhealthy, but he's strong and is physically younger than he appears.'

Arlathan frowned, then looked at Karmen. 'Any idea how long it will take to get through the mind-block?'

She shrugged. 'A few days, maybe.'

'A few days we do not have,' said Vex.

Karmen rolled her eyes again.

Arlathan looked at Darrance and Vex. 'You two thought of a way to infiltrate the cathedral yet?'

Vex nodded and handed Arlathan a data slate. 'According to the local guides, pilgrims are allowed entrance into the cathedral itself for an hour midday Terran standard time.'

Arlathan raised an eyebrow and took the dataslate. 'What about the locals?'

'Not allowed,' said Darrance. 'Never, they have to use the various churches in the districts, but every evening they and the pilgrims stand vigil outside the cathedral from 8 in the evening local time to 10. Only the Ecclesiarchs and local officials are allowed to take daily mass in the cathedral itself, they used to do it every third day, but since the outbreak, they'd increased it to daily. Not a good thing to do in the middle of a deadly pandemic.'

'Of course,' said Arlathan sarcastically, ignoring Karmen's dark look. 'Anything about where the quarantine cases are being held?'

'Yes,' said Vex. 'A medicae facility named the...Refuge of the Martyred Angel. Easily the largest medicae facility in the city and the largest in the northern atmosphere. But they've also had to move many into several nearby community halls and two pilgrim staying houses. All of them are guarded to hell and back by the local militia, no one in, no one out.'

'Local Militia?' said Dellenger. 'What about the Magistratum? The Arbites?'

Vex shook his head. 'No mention of their involvement.'

'I'm liking this less and less,' said Karmen.

'Anything about this militia?' said Tathe.

'They were founded a few months ago,' said Darrance. 'Started by the local governor as a "holy order against the tides of heresy against us," it seems like his own personal army to me. And since their founding, they'd been taking care of the sick. How, exactly, the local propaganda doesn't bother to detail, of course. Brutally, I am guessing.'

'Having the local governor making the militia, huh,' said Tathe. 'Good way to get through the loophole of the Ecclesiarchy being unable to recruit men.'

'Nothing about the people being sent to the Sororitas convent?' said Arlathan, looking side-long at the former Commissar. Annoyed, the Commissar managed to see that conclusion a second before he did.

Vex smiled at him in his smug "of course not" way.

'Just to confirm,' said Tathe. '"No one" means not even people who are recovered?'

'That's the thing,' said Darrance. 'There's nothing about anyone recovering; people have been locked up inside those buildings since the beginning of the outbreak.'

'Is it the same with the other cities?' said Dellenger, a damned good question, Arlathan had to admit.

'Yeah,' said Vex. 'You think that frig in there could be part of that militia?'

Dellenger snorted. 'I doubt that; I have never encountered a "militia" with the ability to find me and keep up with me, but there's always a first for everything, as they say.'

'Also, a local militia man who's got a mind block strong enough that not even Karmen Kons is able to penetrate it,' said Arlathan. 'If he is, they're frigging hardcore. Scary hardcore.'

'Hardcore enough to call in reinforcements from the Inquisitor?' said Vex, with wide, hopeful eyes.

Arlathan shook his head. 'Not yet. We'll need more information before we resort to that, and it's only if it's the militia. It could be an unknown third part we don't know about.'

'Or Throne Agents,' said Dellenger. 'Throne Agents of this Inquisitor Soloston.'

'Maybe,' said Arlathan.

'Or agents of Etuarq,' said Darrance. 'Dellenger did well in making them slip, but it could have been a falsehood.'

'Or yet another Inquisitor,' said Karmen. 'But I'm thinking cultists. Frigging well funded, well trained and well-equipped cultists. A cult of one god in particular...'

'Indeed,' said Arlathan, liking the implication of that option even less. He looked at Darrance. 'So, I'm guessing we'll be infiltrating the cathedral disguised as pilgrims?'

Darrance grinned. 'Oh, how did you manage to guess that, Interrogator? But that depends. Which do you want to look into first? The cathedral or the medicae facility?'

'The cathedral,' said Arlathan without hesitation. 'We know that's where their private vox network is situated, and once we get access to that, we'll be able to monitor the communications to and from the quarantine facilities to find out what's going on there. Not just that, with the allowance of pilgrims inside, it will be much easier for us to get inside.'

Dellenger shrugged. 'Makes sense. But why not do both? Kalakor and I could infiltrate the medicae facility while the rest of you get inside the cathedral.'

Arlathan looked at Dellenger and pursed his lips; he wanted to tell the scout to "frig off", but he couldn't think of a good reason not to, especially because time was of the essence. No one knew how long it would be until they began getting sick.

'Alright,' said Arlathan. 'Go, find the Space Marine and brief him on what's going on.'

Dellenger nodded, turned to leave but hesitated, and he looked over everyone in turn. 'Is it just me, but does it seem that the local officials are trying their best to spread the infection?'

'No,' said Tathe. 'No, it's not just you, old friend. It's not just you.'



This time, when Attelus woke up, he didn't have to fight his eyelids from closing, despite the tiredness. His body had seemed to learn he didn't have the luxury for such dalliances right now.

Darkness greeted his gaze, and it took him a second to remember it was because his cameleoline cloak was wrapped around him. Groaning through his sore, raw throat, Attelus slid the cloak off his face; the sun hit him like a punch to the nose, and he raised his hand to cover his eyes. After he'd zip-lined onto the convent's roof, he'd found a good place under one of the towers on each corner of the building, beneath the balcony there, made sure to do a damned good job to cover himself with his cameleoline cloak and almost instantly fell into a deep sleep. With the sun so high and strong, it must've been around midday, frig! How'd he manage to sleep for so long? How the hell hadn't he been discovered?

Was luck on his side for once?

The several hours of sleep didn't have seemed to do his exhaustion much good, in all honesty, but his body did feel a bit better. His enhanced metabolism must've worked well enough while he slept.

His stomach growled suddenly, so loud a sting of fear sliced into him, fearing someone else might hear it. So, he reached to his mask and opened the valve to allow the nutrient paste to pour into his mouth; despite it tasting like he thought grox gak might taste like, Attelus glugged it down; hunger was the best spice after all. To be precise, his re-breather was of a similar design to those used by agents of the Officio Assassinorum, the snipers of the Vindicare Temple. It held an electrolyte liquid dispenser alongside the nutrient paste, which he gulped down after he'd finished "eating" the paste.

A few minutes afterwards, he stayed sitting and surveyed his surroundings. The roof was slanted a good twenty degrees, and far below, he could make out one of the Sisters was patrolling the wall. It seemed no one had found him, or if they had, they were pretending not to, to perhaps lead him into a trap, but the lack of logic in not trying to capture him while he was sleeping was ridiculous.

With his aching, stiff limbs, he climbed to his feet and began to approach the landing pad; he was lucky the roof wasn't steeper or moving in silence would've been ten times harder. As he moved, he reached into the pouch at the back of his belt and slipped out his security kit. It was an all-in-one thing, including an assortment of lock picks and an electronic one to hack almost any electronic lock in the Imperium of Mankind, similar to an Inquisitorial rosette. Attelus hoped it was an electronic lock as he wasn't the best at lockpicking, and it'd take him much longer. But he doubted it; Ecclesiarchy worlds were well known for being behind in technology, even the Adepta Sororitas. Attelus hoped that Inquisitor Soloston might've replaced the locks with new, more cutting-edge ones. The machine would find the password in about a minute; Attelus might have to spend a few minutes doing it manually. The time he couldn't afford.

Attelus slipped up to the edge of the wall and looked around the corner over the landing bay. Much to his hope, there was no sign of any patrolling Sisters of Battle, and why the frig would there be? Even still, he switched on his wrist auspex. He stepped around onto the landing bay and approached the door.

The lock was an ancient key accessed thing made out of heavy-duty iron.

Attelus sighed. It seemed his luck had finally run out after all.



'What do you think?' said Dellenger as he and Kalakor knelt behind the parapet of a hab-block and watched the medicae facility around a kilometre down the street. The Space Marine was a mere shimmer beside Dellenger that even his eyes struggled to keep track of.

'I do not like it,' said Kalakor; even his whispering voice was a booming sound in Dellenger's micro-bead. 'I have to admit the patrolling locals are well disciplined and...quite skilled.'

Dellenger shrugged; he now wore the cameleoline cloak he'd "inherited" from the prisoner. As much as he treasured his old camoleoline one, the ability to literally reflect and change to the surroundings was far more effective than cameleoline, which merely changed camouflage patterns to suit the environment.

'No more or less skilled or disciplined than any normal PDF force I've seen,' said Dellenger.

'And that is the point,' said Kalakor. 'According to the propaganda, these men and women have only been formed into a militia not long after the start of the outbreak. I doubt they would be so capable after such a short time. Do we even know if these guards are locals?'

'No,' said Dellenger. 'Hopefully, we can find that out if we manage to gain access to the private vox network.'

'When we will,' said the Space Marine.

Dellenger waited, hoping Kalakor would elaborate why he held such conviction, but the Space Marine was silent.

'Either way,' said Dellenger. 'You think you can get in and out of there without being caught?'

'Of course, I will. You think you can, little man?'

'Of course,' said Dellenger. 'But, hmm.'

'But, hmm, what?'

'You sure it's wise to use your ability? You sure it won't be detected by another who can use that ability if there's one in there.'

'That is the risk we must take,' said Kalakor. 'Let us move.'

Dellenger nodded and went to go, but then an idea hit him. 'Kalakor, you want to make a bet?'

'A...bet?'

'Yeah, a bet, to see who'll get in and out of that place first.'

Kalakor laughed, much to Dellenger's shock. 'You serious?' he said after a few seconds of the rumbling in Dellenger's ears.

'I am,' said Dellenger through clenched teeth.

'While I am unafraid to lose, I do not have any monetary assets in the very unlikely case that I am not victorious.'

'Bragging rights?'

'Does that mean the winner is free to brag at the loser mercilessly?'

'That's exactly what it means.'

Kalakor seemed to think on that for a good few seconds.

'You are on,' he said.



For three hours now, Arlathan Karkin, in his ragged pilgrim's robes, had stood among the crowd of several hundred holy pilgrims waiting. Not far away, Karmen, Torris, Vex and Tathe lingered; all of them were mixing well. Even Tathe, who Arlathan had been hesitant to allow to go on this mission. The two had argued for a while about his inclusion, Arlathan believing that Tathe didn't have the experience to go undercover. Still, Tathe countered that he needed to gain that experience if he was to be an effective Throne Agent. He had plenty of experience in psychological machinations in the Commissariat and experience in dealing with the Ecclesiarchy and Pilgrims over the decades.

'I am sure you have,' Arlathan had said. 'But this mission is too important for-'

'Interrogator, I am more than a simple-minded footslogger. You know this. Now let me frigging prove it.'

So Arlathan let him try "prove it"; he just hoped Tathe wouldn't let him down.

Arlathan looked over the crowd, not bothering to be subtle about it as an average pilgrim wouldn't. Around the group were thirty-five of the local militia; all wore some kind of full-faced re-breather, carried an autogun, las locks or auto pistols and improvised close combat weapons, such as chains wrapped around wooden boards or spiked metal balls tied to chains for improvised flails. One had a pipe, and almost all wore chain mail, but one or two, who Arlathan presumed to be more senior members, wore flak armour. The security was heavy, but Arlathan couldn't blame them during a pandemic. There was no sign of any official Ministorum representation, just as there was no sign of Darrance and Delathasi, who weren't far away, shrouded in the shadow of the cathedral. It was good to have them looking out for him, but Arlathan regretted allowing Kalakor and Dellenger to infiltrate the medicae facility; it would have been great to have them watching on too.

The tension in the air was strong; Arlathan found it hard to describe like every pilgrim's very heartbeat was bashing through the air. Arlathan flinched as a young woman near him began to pray, almost screaming the words as tears ran down her face as she looked straight up at the sun. Arlathan had to fight the urge to sneer, and he wiped the sweat from his forehead. Damn, it was frigging hot; he never thought he'd be so wanting to get inside an Ecclesiarchy building so very much.

Another, more familiar voice, now shrieking a prayer, drew Arlathan's attention; it was Karmen and knowing her, the prayer was genuine. Around, more pilgrims joined in, most muttering it to the ground, so Arlathan joined in, murmuring it to his chest.

Much to his relief, the thirty-metre tall huge doors, carved with a depiction of the Emperor slaying a dragon with a spear, began to open.

From inside, a hymn erupted, eclipsing the praying of the crowd and making many pilgrims cover their ears.

The doors took a good six minutes before they opened fully, and then several dozen figures emerged into view, looming above Arlathan and the pilgrims, atop a staircase made up of at least one hundred steps. They all wore the red and black robes of the Drusian sect, and one carried a wooden pole with a golden Aquila at its head. Among them, a few men were stripped to the waist, whipping their back with cat-o-nine tails and howling like stuck canines.

Around Arlathan, pilgrims began to fall to their knees and pushed their heads against the rockcrete.

Then the Ecclesiarchs began to descend the stairs slowly.

Arlathan fought down a groan as he, too, joined the fools on the ground, genuflecting.

This message was edited 2 times. Last update was at 2023/05/11 01:15:40


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
Made in us
Blood Angel Terminator with Lightning Claws






New Zealand

Attelus clenched his teeth and finally took out the automated lock pick, then began to push it in...

But he stopped as another idea managed to burst into his hazy mind, and he knelt down.

Faleaseen! Faleaseen, are you there?

There was no answer.

Faleaseen, frig it! I need your damned help, now!

Still silence.

'Damn it, Faleaseen, answer me now,' he hissed.

A groan then echoed inside his skull, it was faint, exhausted, but it was there.

+Attelus Kaltos, I am here,+ she said. +I have been searching the skeins of fate much recently. It is exhausting and...+

She trailed off. +I can sense your mental and physical exhaustion; it is...incredible. What have you been doing?+

Attelus quickly gave her a summation of everything that'd happened since they'd left Scintilla.

+I see,+ said Faleaseen, then she laughed, much to Attelus' surprise. +An elite Throne Agent such as you being stalled by a locked door, now that is funny.+

'No, no, it's not frigging funny,' Attelus whined. 'You know the circumstances are more complicated than that.'

+I beg to differ, Attelus Kaltos, but I do understand the circumstances. I will unlock the scary door for you. Just place your hand against the lock, please.+

Sighing, Attelus did as told.

+Ah, a mon... a human door lock, primitive but effective, I must confess. I shall use my telekinesis to unlock it and...'

Attelus could hear faint clicking as Faleaseen worked her literal magic. Then came a sudden final familiar click, which Attelus felt through his palm.

+There, it is done.+

Smiling, Attelus was about to reply when he was interrupted by the warbling of the auspex in his ear.

'gak,' he said as he checked the Auspex's reader to find two signatures coming his way on the other side of the door. 'Faleaseen, lock the door again, please.'

+Why?+

Because I have two life signs coming at me, fast! And if they find the door unlocked, it'll-

+Yes, I understand, Attelus Kaltos. Hold on. You must keep your hand on the lock, please.+

Attelus clenched his teeth all the harder, trying to ignore the beeping speeding up and the quickly approaching dots on the monitor. He reached for his sword; as much as he didn't want to kill what could be loyal servants of the Golden Throne, he wouldn't hesitate. But hiding the damned bodies, especially when they're in power armour, will be a bastard.

Attelus couldn't hear any clicking over the ringing, but he felt it, along with the sweat streaming down his face. His eyes were plastered on the auspex as the blinking signals came closer.

He now felt the heavy footfalls heading toward the threshold. But then came the final familiar, heavy click, and before Faleaseen could say anything, Attelus had slipped aside the door and into the shadows. A split second before, the door unlocked again and opened.

One Sister of Battle stepped into view; she wore that elaborate power armour but was helmetless, revealing the pale, pinched, scarred face of a woman who might've been in her mid-sixties or anything in between. Her white bob cut reminded Attelus of Elandria, making him blink and glance downwards. Her eyes were the hardest-edged Attelus had ever seen, a death stare close to being literal; Attelus would've rather face down Kalakor in an actual sword fight than be on the wrong end of that glare.

The Sister paused just outside the doorway, her bolter hanging from a strap on her shoulder. The Sister took a long inhale through her nose, then walked further onto the landing bay; her stride flowed with a confidence that could only be bred by decades of being a warrior.

Following behind her was a hunched, wizened man in the dark red robes of a scribe. His wiry, black hair encircled a skull so bald it shone in the sun. He was exceedingly pale, almost to like an albino-like degree and wore a pair of red, thick-rimmed goggles which might've been to protect his eyes from even the softest of light sources. In contrast to the Sister's, his gait was a shuffling, limping walk.

Attelus would've liked to stay and listen to what they had to say; he hadn't the time, so, in a split second, he slipped through the threshold and started down the stairway.

Finally, he'd made it inside.



Finally, the gaggle of Ecclesiarchy fools arrived at the bottom of the staircase, but Arlathan only knew due to the sound of their footsteps. He didn't know how long it took them, as he never checked his wrist chron despite truly wanting to, but it had felt like hours.

'Stand!' boomed a deep voice so resonant it reminded Arlathan of Kalakor. 'Lay your eyes upon us, His servants!'

The pilgrims did as ordered, and Arlathan followed suit, thanking the Emperor his knees were finally being spared that pain.

Around two metres away stood the Ecclesiarchs; all of them were withered old men in robes of the Drusian order, crimson with cream lining. They were missing most of their teeth; the remaining ones were brown with rot. Arlathan knew, as old as these men seemed, they would all be much older. The Drusians didn't reject the idea of rejuvenant treatments; they just waited until they were at least in their nineties before beginning the treatments, as old age was another form of suffering they had to endure.

The man in the middle, a man so short he was barely taller than a dwarf, raised his tiny, wrinkled hand to the heavens. Still, despite its diminutiveness of it, the act of the movement held massive significance even to the cynical Arlathan.

'My pilgrims,' said the short priest, whose resonant voice was from him, much to Arlathan's surprise. 'My fellow devoted servants of the God-Emperor! Many of you have been travelling for weeks in your Holy pilgrimage; many of you have been upon it for months and many years! You have been following the path laid by our almighty saint in his conquest of our mighty, pure Calixis Sector against the alien menace!'

Arlathan fought the urge to snort; the Calixis Sector? Pure? After only three years in service of the Holy Ordos, he'd learned the Calixis Sector was so full of corruption and conspiracy his arsehole was more pure than the frigging Calixis Sector.

'And His greatness, the great saint Drusus, he is the greatest saint of the Imperium of Mankind!' said the short priest. 'It was he who took control of the Crusade after the death of his predecessor died when the Lord Militant Angevin was murdered by the horrid! Filthy! Dirty! Xenos!'

The short priest's voice had grown more and more shrill between each exclamation of "horrid", "filthy", "dirty", and "Xenos", and foam began exploding from his mouth in a way that reminded Arlathan of one of the water sprinklers in the gardens on the Audacious Edge. Arlathan had to fight back, laughing at the thought. He hated to think how the little fool would react if he learned Attelus and the others were in collaboration with the Eldar. He probably died from several heart attacks, his arteries all blocking at once and a rage-fuelled seizure so powerful it'd break every bone in his body. They'd be ground into dust as it'd go on for hours after his initial expiration.

'It was the great saint Drusus, who was deemed so great! So important to the God-Emperor's whim that when he too was assassinated, the great Lord Militant Angevin was assassinated by horrid! Filthy! Dirty! Xenos! Unlike his predecessor, he was brought back! The God-Emperor brought Him back!'

Much to Arlathan's surprise, the little priest's sunken eyes began to shine with tears. Imperial Historians debated the truth behind Drusus' death and supposed resurrection; Arlathan didn't know the details of each theory; he'd meant to ask Attelus about it some time but never got around to it.

The short priest paused dramatically, his gaze sweeping over the crowd; Arlathan had to admit the priest was a damn fine orator; he wished he had a pad and stylus to make notes.

'The God-Emperor brought Him back!' the short priest shrilled so abruptly that Arlathan and many others flinched as all the other priests around him nodded sagely. 'What more evidence do you need? The God-Emperor! Brought! Him! Back! But if you need that evidence, if you need even a scintilla of evidence, then your faith is weak! Because faith is most pure when it is unquestioning!'

Again, the Ecclesiarchs around the short priest nodded, and there were a few cries of 'Yeah!' from the crowd of fools around Arlathan.

'Now!' said the little priest as he began limply about. 'Only you of unquestioning, unwavering faith can set foot in this holy shrine, for this is where the great, great, greatest amongst the greatest of the God-Emperor's great saints, the great saint Drusus first set foot on this Holy world when its heretical, foolish people had turned their backs on the God-Emperor! It was here that when the great Drusus stepped on this hallowed ground, his mere presence caused the God-Emperor's spirit to change the heretics! Minds and souls are making them see the God-Emperor's majesty! In mass, they rejected their false gods and bowed to Him! They bowed to Him. And those who could not accept the truth! They committed mass suicide! Sparing this galaxy of their dirty, FILTHY, dirty presence forever more!'

Many of the pilgrims around cried out in rapturous joy.

'So come, my devoted brothers and sisters! Come and follow us up this sacred staircase to this most sacred of sacred places. Come to breathe in the holy air of holiness! To lay your eyes upon the holy relics! To have the honour of crying out your holy devotions and prayers so they echo in the holy space!'

The pilgrims roared in approval, and the little priest nodded in approval; he turned, shuffling around for a good ten seconds before his back facing them. He was followed by the rest of the gaggles of fools, and it took all of them almost half a minute until they'd fully turned.

Then the short one took the first step, and it took him almost an entire frigging Emperor damned minute to make it.

It took all of Arlathan's considerable will to keep himself from roaring out a groan so loud it would have echoed throughout the warp itself.



The two Sisters of Battle stomped by in the corridor, their bolters held low, their eyes fixed forwards under brows so furrowed it seemed they'd been glued that way. The light from the stained glass windows projected almost hypnotising patterns of greens, reds, and yellows over their armour before being briefly eclipsed by shadow when passing between the windows.

Attelus slipped out of the shadows and moved on, hugging the wall as close as possible. The Sisters held as much subtlety in their movement as they did in warfare. Attelus had switched off his Auspex a few minutes ago as it was now redundant as all hell.

The Gothic architecture also afforded him many nooks and crannies and alcoves to slide in and out of, making the infiltration almost too easy so far. On his left were the windows, broken up by two-metre-wide pillars. The windows also were about a metre and a half off the floor. It made the infiltration so far too easy, even with his constant battle against the exhaustion. The likes of Dellenger would find it child's play, for sure. On the right were reinforced wooden doors, which Attelus thought might lead to the Sister's quarters. He wished they could've got a schemata of the building, but they'd proven too hard to retrieve in time.

He had another fifty metres or so before the corridor turned to the right, and he hoped there was a staircase heading to the ground floor, but he couldn't help but think he'd have to loop around to find it. It made sense; it'd make the convent more defensible from attackers from both the roof and the bottom. But so far, this building seemed made more like a convent than a fortress; Attelus guessed this was because they put too much faith in the four hundred-and-fifty-metre-high cliffs around it and the walls. Which was idiotic; in all honesty, Attelus was nowhere near the strongest or toughest in the galaxy, and he'd managed to climb it. If he could, the almost inhuman operatives of the Officio Assassinorum or the utterly inhuman Space Marines could scale it with ease.

The sound of echoing footfalls further down the corridor caused Attelus to freeze. He swiftly swept behind the nearest pillar and, showing as little as possible of himself, tilted his gaze around the pillar's edge. He counted three pairs of feet with his enhanced hearing, and three figures did emerge into view. He would've liked to take out his scope to see them better, but he didn't dare. Still, from this range, he could make out that two of them were in the armour of the Sisters of Battle, but one was a dark-skinned man who dwarfed both the women in power armour despite wearing what seemed to be a beige singlet and camouflaged military pants. A red bandana covered his head, and his feet seemed silent on the stone; Attelus could tell this easily, even over the stomping of the Sisters.

Could this be one of the famous members of the Catachan Imperial Guard regiment? This made Attelus instantly pull his head in. gak! If anyone could detect his presence, it'd be a Catachan! Just his frigging damned luck! Why was one here? Could he be a member of Soloston's Warband? That was the only explanation Attelus could discern.

'The Inquisitor thinks the work of Imperial Science is going to be what's gonna be needed to heal the sick,' said a deep, resonant voice that had to belong to the Catachan. 'His faith is strong, but that's what he thinks.'

'Tell the Inquisitor,' said a wizened, feminine voice. 'That his "science" is not going to make a difference, that it is going to make things worse as it shows doubt in the God-Emperor's divinity if we just place our faith in Him and make sure all of the sick believe the same the disease will die, as only then will He intervene.'

'Mamzel, Canoness, with all due respect,' said the Catachan. 'I have been in the Inquisitor's retinue for many years, and he's proven time and time again how effective his scientific abilities are. You should think it's a miracle that he just so happens to be on this world at a time when you need him the most. The God-Emperor sent him here to be at the right place at the right time.'

The Canoness snorted derisively. 'Do not be a fool, guardsman. It is merely a coincidence, and "Imperial Science"? What a contradictory term. The Imperium of Mankind is run upon the backs of its warriors and its faith and shall forever do so. Science weakens that faith and thus weakens the Imperium. If it were not for your master being an Inquisitor, I would have executed him for heresy when he put forward such a notion.'

'Yeah, well, I would like to see you try.'

Attelus rubbed his chin, quickly seeing the contraction to the Catachan's statement. If this Inquisitor weren't an Inquisitor, he probably wouldn't have him around to make them fail if they tried to kill him. On top of that, the Inquisitor would unlikely be here in the first place. This Inquisitor had to be Soloston; it was great to have confirmation of his presence already. Or at least Attelus hoped so.

'Oh, be quiet, guardsman,' snapped the Canoness. 'I am not in the mood for that Catachan bravado. All of your kind are heathens and fools who do not value faith in the God-Emperor enough, instead of placing your faith in those foolish over-compensatory knives of yours.'

'Mamzel, Canoness, I knew many Catachans who were very faithful, and you know my Catachan Fang is anything but "over-compensatory".'

Much to Attelus' shock, the Canoness giggled. 'Oh, yes, I know that well.'

The footfalls stopped, and then came the sound of an opening door; they were about thirty metres away from him now. 'Sister Satiristine, guard my door, make sure no one enters. Except for Trooper Goruan, of course.'

'Yes, mamzel Canoness!' ring out a young woman's soft, eager voice.

Laughter suddenly erupted down the corridor then the door slammed shut. That was the very last thing Attelus expected he'd hear.

Blinking, Attelus glanced back around the pillar, and there she was, a young woman standing guard, and now she was closer; the sight of her made Attelus hiss through clenched as his blood seemed to freeze then shatter in his veins.

Even seeing her from the profile, he recognised her, especially with that brunette bob-cut.

It was Elandria.

This message was edited 1 time. Last update was at 2023/11/16 09:04:32


"The best way to lie is to tell the truth." Attelus Kaltos.
My story! Secret War
After his organisation is hired to hunt down an influential gang leader on the Hive world, Omnartus. Attelus Kaltos is embroiled deeper into the complex world of the Assassin. This is the job which will change him, for better or for worse. Forevermore. Chapter 1.

The Angaran Chronicles: Hamar Noir. After coming back from a dangerous mission which left his friend and partner, the werewolf: Emilia in a coma. Anargrin is sent on another mission: to hunt down a rogue vampire. A rogue vampire with no consistent modus operandi and who is exceedingly good at hiding its tracks. So much so even the veteran Anargrin is forced into desperate speculation. But worst of all: drive him into desperate measures. Measures which drives Anargrin to wonder; does the ends, justify the means?

 
   
 
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