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This was where the infiltration got complicated, for Dellenger, at least. The place crawled with those gas-masked mooks, and the medicae was a good six metres away from the closest building and the at least fifteen-metre-high rockcrete walls around it. He had his grapnel gun to shoot and then zip line in, but the building was covered in one-sided windows, so he could likely be spotted, and if he were, he wouldn't know. Kalakor didn't have to worry about such a complication unless he was careful with his powers.

Dellenger was truly reconsidering this stupid bet right...now...

An idea hit him as he glimpsed the patrolling militia man below him and the rubbish container further down the alleyway. The bet didn't say he had to do it stealthfully, did it? Dellenger searched his memory and remembered it didn't, so he slipped to the left and leapt over the edge; he hoped it'd be so quick anyone near the windows would miss him as the world around him seemed to rise, and the wind roared in his ears. The patrolling militiaman began to grow in size as Dellenger fell towards him, and he fell and fell.

The soles of Dellenger's boots were right on target as they landed on top of the militiaman's shoulders. The militiaman didn't even have time to yell out before he smashed face-first against the rockcrete and went limp. The militiaman took almost all the impact of the fall; the only thing Dellenger felt was a slight stinging judder up his knees.

Dellenger dragged the dead or unconscious militiaman toward the rubbish container while trying to figure out a way to break this man's patrol route without looking suspicious.



Attelus continued to watch the young Sister from behind the pillar, and she continued to stare forwards and stand beside the doorway. Never had Attelus ever seen anyone so intensely into a sentry duty before; it boggled his frigging mind.

He also had to get past that, and if it was...Elandria, it'd be almost impossible. And Attelus thought it was bad with that Catachan, but at least he was inside that room doing...things with the Canoness. Attelus didn't know that Sisters of Battle were allowed such excursions, and he certainly didn't think they were allowed to be so open about it, even if they were a Canoness, one of the higher ranks in the order.

If this young girl was Elandria, who'd infiltrated the convent, this made his mission a thousand times more complicated. It was well within the realms of reality for her to be here; perhaps her master had foreseen Attelus would come here and have to kill a young, innocent Sister who so happened to look like her and take her place. If that was the case, how many other agents of Etuarq had managed to infiltrate the convent? Excluding his damnable dad, Attelus was only aware of three; there could've been dozens or perhaps even hundreds of those enhanced, dangerous agents across the Calixis Sector and beyond.

But if it was, Elandria, and somehow she didn't know Attelus was here, he had the perfect opportunity to kill her. To take out one of Etuarq's agents once and for all and, perhaps, permanently free her from that bastard's control.

In all honesty, back on Omnartus, when he'd fought her and her colleagues, right from the first split-second he'd fought her, Attelus knew it was her. They'd become intimately familiar with each other's fighting styles back on Omnartus, and...

Attelus's eyes fell to the floor; he wished he could've gotten intimate with her properly before losing her.

But after that realisation, he'd held back against her, even when she was holding Adelana hostage and...

Attelus shook away that train of thought as he gripped the hilt of his sword with his right and pulled open the pistol holster on his shoulder. With her helmet off, he could try for a headshot with his silenced auto pistol, but he held little faith in his accuracy, especially with a tricky shot like this. This was what he and Darrance had spoken about back on Iocanthos; he'd talked big back then, so this was when he'd have to live up to that.

The galaxy was a frigging big place, so there was a certainty there'd be a young woman or two out there who looked like Elandria. But he didn't know if it was her yet; it could've been a coincidence, as unlikely as it sounded. There must've been people out there who looked like Attelus, too and killing her would cause much more complications. The first being when she hit the ground, there'd be a hell of a noise, and wherein the Emperor's name would he hide the body? And if she was found...

Or he could be just trying to rationalise not killing Elandria, but even so, the reasons not to kill this young woman were more logical right now, so he decided not to.

Attelus sighed and slid his palm across his face; he guessed he'd just have to wait patiently, but "patience" wasn't exactly his strength. He just hoped the Catachan had endurance as limited as Attelus' patience and-

The familiar sound of stomping power-armoured feet approaching from behind him made him flinch, slide further into the shadows and wait. It was two pairs of feet; one was in armour, the other of shuffling soft shoes. Stealth missions like this were a waiting game, a game he'd just have to get frigging used to.

It took about a minute for the walkers to come into view, and much to his non-surprise, it was the senior Sister and the scribe from before. Attelus wondered if the scribe was also a member of Inquisitor Soloston's retinue.

Neither noticed him as they walked on by, then out of sight.

'Mamzel, Palantine!' said the young Sister and Attelus strained his ears to figure out if the voice was familiar, but he couldn't quite clutch a confirmation or a denial.

'At ease, Satiristine,' said the Palantine. 'Your dedication to the Canoness is beyond reproach. Few Sisters would be so willing to stand guard at her door while she is having her fun.'

'Thank you, mamzel Palantine!' said Satiristine, apparently the irony of the statement going overhead, which seemed like Elandria. Attelus couldn't help liking the Palantine woman right away; the dryness of her tone was something to admire. He'd hoped the Palantine would somehow make the young Sister leave her post, but hope was the first step on the road to disappointment. That among all the "Thought of the day" he'd seen so far was the one Attelus most wholeheartedly agreed with.

The footfalls carried on without another word exchanged, and Attelus glanced around just in time to see the Scribe and the Sister turn the corner out of sight.

Attelus clenched his teeth and clutched his holstered pistol; damn it, this was taking too long; if something didn't happen soon, he'd have to make something happen soon!



Finally! They managed to reach the top of the stairs, and there, the gaggle of Ecclesiarchs turned to face Arlathan and the others. The militiamen had herded them into three lines as they lurked around on the edges, guns held low but ready. Arlathan was in the middle one, six people down; Karmen was two in front of him; Torris was on the right, four down; Tathe left, nine down, and Vex was thirty down on the same line as Arlathan. This had annoyed Arlathan immensely; none of them had micro-beads as Arlathan didn't want to risk them being spotted, and he wasn't comfortable with Karmen using her psychic power yet, so coordinating their infiltration would be complicated. There was no sign of Darrance and Delathasi, Arlathan knew they were following the pilgrims, and he could only hope they could make it inside before the doors closed.

'We stand!' yelled the little priest. 'Upon the threshold of one the holiest shrines in this great sector, bask in this place. This is a once-in-a-lifetime event, my faithful ones! You have travelled many light-years to step upon this world and into this great testament to the greatness of mankind and to the faith inherent in the very fibres of the Imperium of Mankind! Now come!'

The doors began to slowly open dramatically as the little Ecclesiarch started to beckon them in.

'Come,' repeated the priest over and over as he and the other Ecclesiarchs shuffled aside.

The pilgrims all began to file inside, still with that ridiculously slow pace, and after what seemed an age, Arlathan stepped into the cathedral, and despite himself, his breath caught in his throat, and it wasn't just the relief of escaping the heat outside. He'd seen a few cathedrals of the Ecclesiarchy over the years, including the awe-inspiring one on Scintilla, and while this one was huge, it wasn't even half as large as the one Scintilla; it blew it out of the water with its beauty.

All of the two dozen curved pillars leading up to the gigantic altar at the other end were covered in complex bronze abrasions that ringed up, and Aquilas grew from them in a naturalistic fashion which fitted this damned world. Attelus and Enandra would complain this world should have been made into an agri-world instead of a shrine world that would feed millions of starving people across the sector, and Arlathan understood. Still, the pair seemed to constantly underestimate the importance of worlds like this for the spiritual health of the Imperium's people.

The two of them were incredibly strong-willed; they'd embraced purposes they had made for themselves, well and truly, and neither of them needed faith in a higher power, just confidence in their abilities, which was an admirable and enviable trait. Still, they forget most people aren't like that. Even Arlathan saw that through his cynicism. The cynicism was beaten into him during his time working in the Omnartisian Magistratum. At first, he'd been the wide-eyed recruit just out of the academy. Still, the blatant corruption and incompetence of his fellow enforcers and the disgusting, horrible crimes and criminals he dealt with eventually broke him down. By his thirties, he'd become as selfish, corrupt and cowardly as many others. Maybe he could've avoided that mentality if he'd been more faithful? He'd secretly laughed at the more faithful enforcers and detectives, and while most were as corrupt as all hell, most of the few who stuck to their ideals for longer were quite religious.

Arlathan was so lost in thought that he didn't realise he'd stopped until one of the pilgrims behind him pushed him lightly.

He carried on further inside, and their footfalls echoed through the cavernous beautifully; the place's acoustics were amazing. Behind the shining golden altar stood a gigantic organ that Arlathan wished to hear played more than anything in the world. Maybe hundreds of pews led up to the altar, and against the walls on the left and right walls, a space a good forty metres in width sat glass cabinets Arlathan guessed had those "holy artefacts" the Ecclesiarch had mentioned inside of them.

Two militiamen slid past and stood in the middle aisle, blocking the pilgrims' path and indicating they turned left. Like good livestock, the pilgrims did as ordered, and Arlathan followed suit.

Then someone behind him started to sing. It was probably the same woman from before, and like the woman from before, her voice wasn't the greatest, but it was nice enough and boosted beautifully throughout the cathedral.

Soon, others began to join in, turning the singular woman into a choir of voices which Arlathan was tempted to join in with, even if he was a terrible as frig singer and didn't know the lyrics. He began to hum a facsimile of the tune, though.

Another younger priest waited for them near the first glass case; he smiled at them and ushered them onward. As Arlathan approached, he noticed an Ecclesiarch standing beside each glass display case; then he saw inside what looked like an ancient sock laid on a thick, red with gold edges cushion.

'Behold!' exclaimed the priest, his hands whirling over it like a showman as he grinned like a fool. 'The holy sock! This was the very sock Saint Drusus wore, on the right foot inside the boot of the foot that was the first to step on this very spot!'

Arlathan fought down the urge to roar out his anger again and slam the palm of his hand so hard against his face it would break his nose as the pilgrims around him let out an awed, 'Ahhhh!'



Attelus began to grind his teeth, and sweat was starting to soak him despite the fans of his bodyglove being turned on to the maximum strength.

If it was Elandria, with her enhanced senses, she might've heard the almost silent humming, so that was a good point to it not being her.

She could've been pretending not to get him into a false sense of security.

Frowning, Attelus glanced down the corridor again, hoping to find another way to slip by the girl, but again found nothing. Despite his hoping the Catachan had good endurance, Attelus thanked the Emperor; apparently, the walls were soundproofed.

With a long exhale, he made the move he'd been planning for a while now and one he'd tried to replace with a "better" one numerous times, but he hadn't managed it.

So, after checking that the coast was properly clear, Attelus crossed the corridor, pushed his shoulder against the opposite wall, and watched the Sister.

The girl didn't seem to notice him.

He sighed again, not to rouse up his courage but out of relief. Then he exploded into a run, an awkward thing to do in his low stance, but he managed it easily enough; he just hoped his footsteps would stay silent.

The girl came closer and closer, but still, her attention stayed forwards. In the last few metres, Attelus leapt. He exploded into the air and tucked his feet so far his thighs almost touched his chest while keeping the cameleoline cloak tight around himself. The girl was short, shorter than him, which he could only thank his luck for, so he flew over her head, his feet missing the top of her head by only a few millimetres, which made her hair slightly flutter.

His teeth clenched, Attelus hit the stone floor and rolled, hoping he didn't make any noise.

And thanks to his synskin bodyglove's padded feet, he didn't, and without even glancing back at the girl, he moved to the left side of the corridor and back behind another pillar and the safety of the shadows.

Only then he looked back.

The girl was pouting her full, red lips and trying to brush her bob cut back to its former symmetrical perfection with clumsy power armoured fingers. It was...cute, hypnotically so. It made Attelus' heart go all a flutter. It made Attelus think about what Elandria would've been like if her masters hadn't brainwashed her. Elandria would've never, ever made a face like that, especially not now. It suited her.

He shook himself back to reality, and Attelus couldn't help but grin and pump his fist in triumph. He'd jumped to such heights before, but never in a situation like this. He then began to move on, fighting to prevent his joy and adrenaline from taking over and causing him to make a mistake.

He just hoped she wasn't Elandria and so potentially let him sneak past her for some unknown fate that bastard Etuarq had in store for him, and it'd make him regret not killing her when he had the chance.

Thought I post this here, a new mini version of Attelus I've been working on. Took me ages to get him where I wanted him to be. Hope you like it!








Dellenger finally managed to step through the main doors of the medicae centre; his two-sized, too-large, heavy boots echoed over the white tiles. The place was overflowing with bodies, but few were medicae staff, just more militia.

He'd bypassed the guards by claiming in a gruff voice his autogun had jammed and he needed to get another. The guards had spoken in a strange accent Dellenger had never heard before, guttural growling that made them sound like phlegm was permanently lodged in their throats, a way of talking Dellenger struggled to emulate, his throat still hurt from only saying a few paragraphs. This concerned him more than he could say, even beyond the implication of a Chaotic nature. The agents he'd encountered and killed sounded nothing like them; could they be from another faction? Yet another faction lodged in this complex web of schemes and secret wars.

This was the new form of war he was now partaking in. He'd forgotten that he'd fought in a similar world a long, long time ago as Adrassil, the now legendary mercenary. Dellenger hoped one day he could get his friend Tathe to believe him; he needed someone to believe him. Tathe had reminded Tathe so much of his long, long-lost friend Prince Royd, especially when he was a young, "hardline" cadet-commissar when the Velrosian 1st and the rest of the Elbyran contingent were established decades ago.

The images of young Royd Antares flashed through his mind. Adrassil. Rotasia and Royd sat at a fire; Royd had his arm over his future wife's shoulders as they laughed at some joke Adrassil couldn't remember. Royd's always unkempt; thick brown hair blew in the breeze. Then Adrassil was fighting alongside Royd; Adrassil's spear stabbed and swung through the mass of Marangerian soldiers in front of them as Royd's longsword cut soldier after soldier down, his sword a blur of speed and skill.

Dellenger's memories were smashed away as someone bashed into him. Thankfully, whoever it was just moved on, but it made Dellenger blink; now was the last frigging time for him to get lost in long-lost memories of a friend who'd died too soon and too young, even if it was a fated death, a death made in the most ultimate of sacrifices.

Dellenger walked on and glanced at the nearest sign, trying to seem indistinct. It had three arrows; one pointed to Patient Rooms, one to Operation Rooms, and the last to Emergency Rooms.

The Patient Rooms interested him the most, even though with all the people in quarantine, the other areas were likely stuffed with patients.

Dellenger smoothly turned and started onwards, but he paused as a strange, dirty, rusty metal pipe running on the wall above him caught his eye. It was a stark contrast to the clean white surroundings of the medicae facility. Dellenger was no builder, but it seemed the pipes had been roughly jury-rigged in not long ago. Where the pipe turned into the wall, the hole sawn through the wood was splintered and uneven.

As Dellenger looked, a slurping, gurgling sound filtered through the pipe and into his sensitive ears. The sound alone instantly made him want to throw up into his stinking, too-loose mask, but Dellenger fought it back and swallowed down the bile that flooded his mouth.

'Hey!' growled a voice that made Dellenger look to its source. Moving through the flood of bodies was another Militiaman. He towered over everyone, even the other militiamen, especially Dellenger. 'You there, what are you doing? You can't just be standin' around; get back to your post!'

Dellenger grunted to roughen his throat; he had to assume this was a mid-level or maybe even senior leader of sorts, but it was hard to tell; all of these masked militiamen looked the same. 'I ain't, sir, sorry, sir. Just my autogun jammed, and I gotta get another one from the armoury and-'

'Quit ya damn excuses. Ya tellin' me ya don't know how to unjam your damned weapon?'

'Nuh, uh, sir, I-'

'Just shut it!' snarled the officer. 'And hurry and get another one; when ya off patrol duty, I'll have ya on Ecclesiarchal duty, ya complete useless nuckin' fool.'

Dellenger saluted sloppily and turned to go, but the officer's inaudible bark stopped him. 'Where ya going ya nuckin' fool? The armoury is this way!'

The officer indicated the main corridor as he simmered with anger.

'S-sorry, sir!' said Dellenger as he began to jog, and as he passed the leader, he smacked him over the side of the head, making the mask slip forwards, covering Dellenger's eyes and almost causing him to crash into a medicae staffer.

The officer boomed a laugh as Dellenger readjusted the mask. 'Nuckin' stupid head.'

Dellenger wanted to point out that if anyone was a "Nuckin' stupid head" for not being the least bit suspicious about a militia man who didn't know where the armoury was, or at least Dellenger hoped he wasn't.

As he jogged, Dellenger couldn't help but look back at that strange pipe again; those things seemed to run throughout the facility. Dellenger didn't like this; he didn't like this at all.



Attelus had underestimated how many levels he had to descend before finding the bottom floor. The corridor did loop around, but the staircase was only a few metres down, and that corridor also looped around the whole building, and so did the next one, then the next one. All of them had those same wooden doors in the interior walls. He didn't know why they needed so many rooms; there must've been hundreds.

Attelus had to dodge six pairs of patrolling Sisters, which slowed his progress considerably. There was no sign of any other Throne Agents or other orders of the Adepta Sororitas.

All the while, Attelus had to fight from thinking about that girl; he'd already forgotten her damned name, but the image of her kept invading his thoughts like a virus.

He turned the corner of what he counted as the fifth floor down, and there he found a large pair of double doors instead of another staircase at the end of the corridor. No guards were there, but sentries would likely be on the other side.

Most certainly, knowing his luck, how he would bypass them, the Emperor only knew.

Attelus clenched his teeth as he approached the doors and activated his wrist auspex, and the screen showed...

Nothing, no life signs, were on the other side, which made him reel with this revelation. But there was a quagmire of signals coming up from below him. So many it seemed like a blanket of white. This must've been where they were keeping the sick.

He was still trying to comprehend how there were no guards, that it took him quite too long to hear the heavy footfalls approaching his back.

Attelus slipped into a nearby alcove a split second before the patrolling Sisters were almost on him.

They stomped by, opened the doors simultaneously and stepped through the threshold. Attelus exploded from his cover and through the doors just before they slammed gak.

The Sisters were mere inches before him, their backs to him. Luckily for Attelus, the doors were designed to close on their own.

Another staircase dropped, but much further down and led to a frigging huge stained glass window that fell behind and below the stone floor, it seemed like a balcony of sorts, and there was no sign of anyone down there.

Attelus let the two Sisters step off the stairs before following after them, and when he emerged from the staircase, he found he was indeed on a balcony. A good twenty-metre-high balcony overlooked a hall that took up the entire length and breadth of the building. Beyond that were another tremendous stained glass window that spread below the floor and the smaller windows on the wall's left and right sides. Attelus didn't know how many levels down these floors went, but from looking at how long those windows were from the outside, it could be three or four, leaving plenty of height for the ground floor. The blanket of life signs on the auspex did not live up to the number of beds covering the floor below, so much it was almost impossible to make out any floor. All of them contained a figure under the blankets. Thousands of them, just on this floor alone.

'Holy frigging gak,' Attelus couldn't help hiss, the first words he'd uttered out loud for hours.

Then the gun barrel pushed against the back of Attelus' skull.

'Yes,' said the familiar resonant voice of the Catachan behind him. 'Yes, holy frigging gak, indeed.'



Tathe glanced at the glass cabinet, which contained a supposed shard of the power sword Drusus had apparently wielded, according to the droning junior Ecclesiarch standing beside it. Tathe had wielded a power sword for many years, and it didn't look like it was from a power sword to him. Of course, he wouldn't point that out. Tathe had never been so bored, and that was saying something; he regretted it to all hell and insisted on participating in this assignment.

Trying to seem subtle, Tathe glanced about to locate young Vex Carpompter among the pilgrims lined up behind him. Vex was a few metres away and, much to Tathe's frustration, was failing miserably, at least pretending to seem interested. Tathe thought a Throne Agent, even one as young as him, would be at least a bit better at acting than this. Vex seemed like a temperament little bastard, so Tathe shouldn't have been surprised.

The Ecclesiarch had finished his spiel, so Tathe and his small group were ushered onwards as they did. Tathe caught Torris further ahead and was looking at him almost questionably. Tathe shook his head slightly. Arlathan and Karmen had been forced too far down the line to take the lead, so Torris looked to him for leadership as the plan was intrinsic to Vex. Tathe rolled his eyes; he knew Interrogator Arlathan Karkin was jealous enough of him already, this despite Tathe trying his best to make the Interrogator know he wasn't trying to overshadow him, or whatever, that it wasn't his fault the Inquisitor was trying to flirt with him, and this will likely make it worse. But the mission always came first.

Tathe looked back to Vex, trying to catch the young Throne Agent's attention and making sure the militia around wouldn't notice him but feeling like he was failing badly.

After several minutes, Vex noticed. Tathe raised his eyebrow questionably, and Vex nodded slightly. Tathe then turned back to Torris, and he nodded. Tathe wished he was closer in line to Vex for this, but if needs must.

They came to the next cabinet, which seemed like it had a dataslate in it, which Tathe guessed was Drusus' during the Angevin Crusade or some crap; he could've easily put any old dataslate in there and claimed it was his. But that hardly mattered.

'Oh, God-Emperor!' Tathe cried out as loud as he could, causing everyone around him to look at him. Tathe raised his hands above his head. 'I feel his spirit in me! He is great! He is mighty!'

'What the frig are you on about!' Torris roared. 'You ain't worth gak! He's makin' it up! I'm the God-Emperor's chosen!'

Torris began to push toward Tathe, the big man easily knocking aside any pilgrims in his way.

'Please! Calm down!' cried the nearby priest. 'Just continue-'

'What!' shrieked a nearby woman. 'This man is having a Holy union with the God-Emperor, and you are trying to deny it!'

'I-' said the Ecclesiarch, but many of the people around drowned him out with "boos!"

Tathe began to pretend to start having a seizure. 'See? See! The God-Emperor is shining upon him!' yelled another pilgrim. 'He is blessed, and we are blessed to be here with him!'

The priest just stood gaping like an idiot. Meanwhile, Torris was making his way toward Tathe.

'That one is trying to hurt the Holy one!' yelled the woman from before. 'Stop him!'

A few pilgrims turned on Torris and tried to grab him, but the ex-arbitrator easily knocked them away. Most were thin and malnourished from their travels and probably weighed less than Torris' arms.

Tathe spun on his heels, his boots squealing on the tiles to check what the guards were doing. They, too, stood, seeming bemused, even with their masks on and their attentions plastered on Tathe, to his relief.

Tathe pretended to have his eyes roll into the back of his head, which made the seizures worse. Then Torris' fist smashed against his face, sending Tathe flinging to the floor, making Tathe's world weave about, then go black.

Before unconsciousness overtook him, the last thing he thought was, Vex, you better have frigging managed to plant that damned thing.



'Hands up, slowly,' said the Catachan and Attelus did as ordered, allowing the cameleoline cloak to fall off him. From his calculations of how far away the Catachan's voice was, the gun must've been a pistol, so his arm would be well within the range of his sword, but Attelus didn't want to risk it.

'It seems we have an interloper here,' said the Catachan, and Attelus heard the familiar sound of an activating vox-link. 'Mamzel Rilistil, I have found a little rat that's managed to get its way in. Send up a squad. We're on the balcony on the third floor.'

Attelus heard a murmuring reply.

'Yes, he's managed to get in, and, yes, I will find out how,' said the Catachan. 'Just hurry it up.'

Then he cut the link.

'H-how?' said Attelus.

'How did I find you?' said the Catachan. 'Now, why in the God-Emperor's name would I tell you that? All that matters is that you're caught now, little man, and whatever reason you are here for is over. Now, who are you?'

'Not an enemy.'

The Catachan snorted. 'Oh yeah? You sneak on in here like a spy or an assassin and have the audacity to say you're "not an enemy"? Do you think I'm one of those stereotypical Catachans? All muscle except for the one between my ears?'

'N-no,' said Attelus. 'You managed to get the drop on me, so of course, I don't think that. It's just the truth. I swear.'

Attelus wanted to point out he could probably draw his sword and cut the Catachan in two before he could even consider pulling the trigger, but he hadn't done it yet, but that'd sound arrogant and combative even if it were true.

'I'm going to reach into my jacket,' said Attelus. 'Please just hold back and-'

The doors above them slammed open, and the stomping of power armoured feet descending the stairs echoed through the cavernous room, making Attelus look over his shoulder.

The old Canoness Sister stepped into view as she and a ten-woman squad fanned out, bolters raised. One of them was the girl who looked just like Elandria, and Attelus found his eyes plastered on her, turning to look at her. She was beautiful, so beautiful. Her large hazel eyes met his, and there they stayed; there was no recognition in her gaze, just indifference.

'Eyes forward,' said the Catachan and Attelus managed to tear his gaze away.

'Is this the rat?' said the Canoness. 'This little man?'

'Yeah, I think it's him. Pretty sure it ain't me. Unless there's somethin' you know, I don't know.'

The Sister barked out a laugh. 'Smart arse. Now, what are you doing? Sneaking onto this most holy of spaces, boy? Pick your words carefully, or you will burn in Holy fire.'

Now glad that his back was to her, Attelus couldn't help but roll his eyes; he would likely burn no matter what he said or how he said it. 'I'm investigating into the disease infecting this planet,' he said. It was the truth, half of it anyway.

'Investigating for whom?' said the Sister.

'I was about to answer that before,' said Attelus, hoping he managed to keep his annoyance from his voice. 'I'm going to reach into my jacket pocket; please do not shoot me.'

'What for?' said the Sister.

'The answer to your question,' Attelus said through gritted teeth. 'I'm going to do it now.'

So with slow, deliberate movements, Attelus took out his sigil and held out his hand, allowing it to dangle from his hand on its chain.

'Hmm,' said the Catachan, but he sounded about as interested as if he was looking at a brick wall. 'A junior Rosette of the Ordo Hereticus and looks pretty real to me.'

'The Witch Hunters?' said the Canoness. 'We are the militant arm of the Ordo Hereticus; why did you feel you needed to enter here clandestinely? Did you think us potentially guilty of something? Who is your master, little acolyte of the Inquisition?'

'I'm a Throne Agent,' Attelus couldn't help correct. 'My master is going to come down here, but she sent me down first to gather intelligence first, and she is Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus.'

There was a pause.

'You say that name as if it is meant to mean something to me,' said the Canoness. 'Never heard of her, and I do not like her already. Sending one of her "Throne Agents" down to investigate us instead of just coming here herself. I do not appreciate that.'

'Hmm,' said the Catachan. 'I understand such tactics myself, and he might've got through your defences if it wasn't for me.'

'Yes, yes,' sighed the Canoness. 'I will make sure to place all the Sisters on patrol on the upper floors on punishment detail for their incompetence.'

'Nah,' said the Catachan. 'I stalked this boy, and I can say it wasn't because of your Sister's incompetence he got past, but due to his competence.'

Attelus couldn't help but feel a rush of pride well in his chest at the compliment; It Still didn't make it any less gakky that he'd been caught already.

'Thank you for the advice, Trooper Goruan, but I will be the judge of that!' snapped the Canoness. 'Sister Satiristine and Sister Roliriss, you will go with Trooper Goruan to escort this little fool to the dungeons, then take guard duty. We will question him later.'

Attelus couldn't help but stiffen as he remembered Satiristine was the name of the Sister who looked like Elandria. Did the Canoness notice he was interested in her and did that on purpose? It was very likely; she certainly didn't seem stupid, besides believing "faith" will make these people well. Or, perhaps, she was in league with Serghar Kaltos and placed his agent near him, just in case.

'The rest of you!' snapped the Canoness. 'Onto cleaning duties and repentance! Never again shall an infiltrator bypass your sight again!'

'Yes, mamzel Canoness!' the Sisters exclaimed as one, and their enthusiasm for such a mundane task was one of the most alien things possible to Attelus' very being. Attelus looked over his shoulder, trying to find the Elandria girl again.

'Satiristine and Roliriss, get these weapons off him,' said the Catachan. 'And keep your hands up and your eyes forward, Throne Agent of the Ordo Hereticus. The Sisters ain't here for you to gawk at.'

'They aren't here for you to frig, either,' said Attelus.

The Catachan laughed heartily at that, much to Attelus' shock. 'Ahh, ya got me there, son. Ya got me there.'

It wasn't hard for Dellenger to loop around the medicae centre and back toward the patient rooms, but he made sure to avoid any of the militia he could along the way, which slowed him down quite a lot.

He thanked his luck for the backwards capacity of Ecclesiarchy worlds, so this medicae centre didn't have cameras. Dellenger also wanted to see if those horrid pipes snaked their way through most of the facility, and they seemed to, by the looks of things. Dellenger tried to block out that horrible slugging sound as he walked beneath them. The presence of these strange pipes alone was worth reporting to the Interrogator.

The Interrogator, Arlathan Karkin, was an interesting man. Dellenger wasn't sure why, but Karkin seemed to hold some hostility to Tathe.

Before Dellenger could muse more on that subject, he turned a corner and stopped as he found door after door on each wall, each with a sign saying "Patient Room 1" and on and on. The pipes curled in and out of the rooms, and the corridor was empty.

It made Dellenger freeze. Fear clutched his heart with ice-cold tendrils. His intuition seemed to scream that whatever he did, he didn't want to go through any of those doors. But he had to; this was his assignment, and while he wasn't the most dutiful of soldiers, this Inquisitor Enandra seemed like a genuinely good person who deserved his duty and respect.

Or at least he hoped she did; Inquisitors were fickle things, indeed, but even still, Dellenger wanted to prove he was trustworthy and skilled enough to be in her employment.

Sighing, Dellenger shook himself back to reality and went straight for the nearest door. There was no window in it, so Dellenger raised his autogun and opened it slightly, peering into the gap.

It was almost pitch black inside, but his photo contacts soon revealed the surroundings in a hazy, green light. The first thing Dellenger noticed was that far too many beds were lodged side by side, making a gap in the middle leading from the doorway of only about a metre and a half. All of the beds were occupied.

Dellenger slipped inside, his autogun sweeping around the room, and the green light began to illuminate more and more detail. He could now make out the pipes that rose from the beds and ceiling. The familiar horrific gurgling from the pipes suddenly filled Dellenger's ears and almost made him vomit into his mask there and then. The photo-contacts kept revealing the room, and soon he wished it didn't. The pipes were stitched to the faces of the occupants of the beds, covering their noses and mouths. Some sat bolt upright, backs against the wall, some laid beneath the sheets, but all of them were strapped down. None of them acknowledged Dellenger's presence, their blank-white eyes staring out into space, but the terror and agony on their faces were unmistakable. Their skin was covered in green and grey pustules.

The pipes were made from semi-transparent plasteek, allowing Dellenger to glimpse the thick bile which flowed towards the ceiling to defy gravity seemingly.

Dellenger had seen many horrific things in his long lifetime, but this took the frigging bait. All of this was bad enough, but he knew something was above him, something hanging from the ceiling, something that these horrific pipes ran from.

Finally, Dellenger managed to gain the courage to look up and what he saw made him reel. Attached to the ceiling was a large glass sphere full of that disgusting green bile, which swirled inside; light emerged from it, but it didn't illuminate the room like a miniature sun. More pipes grew from it, snaking into the ceiling and walls.

The bile in the sphere seemed to have a life of its own as it swirled and smashed against the thick glass-like waves crashing on the shore. More than anything in this galaxy, Dellenger wanted to get out his krak grenades and destroy this place. To open fire with his autogun and slaughter everything in the room. Spare these poor people this horrible suffering, but he knew he couldn't.

Not just because he'd give himself away, he would never want that bile gak even to touch him.

Despite himself, Dellenger began to back for the door as he started to dry heave, but he froze as something inside the sphere saw him.

The bile began to swirl even more as something materialised in the goo. That something became a pair of disembodied circular, lidless black eyes above a too-wide grin of rotting teeth.

A pair of eyes with grey-green pupils were staring directly down at Dellenger.

'Intruder,' the mouth slurred so resonantly, so deeply, it shook Dellenger to his every pore and made him fall to his knees as complete agony overtook him.

Then the alarm klaxons began to shrill throughout the facility.



They met back at the hideout when Arlathan arrived with Vex and Karmen. Vex was back on his cogitator so fast that he seemed to teleport across the room. His fingers flew over the keys as he slipped his headphones over his head. Arlathan watched with bated breath as Vex turned to and from his Vox Caster, adjusted a few knobs, and then returned to his cogitator.

Arlathan waited, and after a good while, he exchanged a glance with Karmen, who looked as nervous as him.

'Vex, did it work?'

Vex held up a finger and, to Arlathan's choler, shushed him. 'Be quiet. The master is at work.'

Arlathan managed to fight down his anger; it was more critical Vex complete his work rather than Arlathan sate his ego, but by the Emperor, he'd chew out the boy afterwards.

The Stormtrooper guarding the room raised his hand to his micro-bead and looked at Arlathan and Karmen.

'Interrogator Marcel Torris and Delan Tathe have just arrived. Send them up?'

'Yes, go ahead,' said Arlathan, trying not to sound too annoyed. Did he have to micro-manage every frigging thing around here? Typical damned Inquisitorial Stormtroopers.

'Yes, sir!' said the Stormtrooper, relaying Arlathan's order.

Karmen swept past Arlathan and turned to him. 'I'm going to have a shower. I don't think I've been this stinky and disgusting since I was locked up in Taryst's personal jail back on Omnartus.'

Arlathan frowned, not sure what to make of her light tone. 'Yeah, go ahead, just don't be too long. We have to be careful how much power we use on the grid, remember?'

Karmen laughed. 'Yes, dad.'

Arlathan could tell she was flirting with him, despite long ago agreeing they wouldn't be anything but friends. Arlathan ignored her; he couldn't help feeling if they restarted their physical relationship, she'd likely try to use it to make Attelus jealous.

She pouted, shrugged, then moved on and said to Vex as she passed him, 'Good work, Vex.'

'Yeah, yeah,' said Vex as he flicked out his hand dismissively. 'I know, I know.'

Karmen smiled and left as Arlathan continued to watch Vex work, he didn't have to wait long before Torris and Tathe entered, and Arlathan had to stop smiling at Tathe's swollen, purple face.

'Nice work on the distraction, you two,' said Arlathan. 'You two have much trouble getting away?'

'Nah,' said Torris. 'They just sat me down and made me confess, for a good while in one of their backrooms, told me the importance of such miracles and all sorts of crap, you know how it goes. The good Commissar here was treated and looked over by their medical, and we were let go not too long after the rest of you finished the tour and the sing-song stuff.'

Tathe nodded as he placed an ice pack on his face. 'Torris, for someone who doesn't specialise in close combat, you've got one hell of a right hook.'

Torris shrugged, about to answer, when Vex shrilled out. 'Be quiet. I'm in!'

Tathe turned to Vex, and they approached him.

Vex, ignoring them, kept tuning his Vox Unit as he listened intensely to his headset. He did this for a few seconds before his face paled, and he turned to Arlathan, his eyes wide behind his specialist glasses.

'What's wrong, Vex?' said Torris.

'There's reports of an intruder in Medicae Facility A,' said Vex.

'gak,' snarled Tathe as he pushed past Arlathan and snatched up the vox horn. 'Get me Dellenger's vox unit, now!'



Despite the agony that seemed to course through his very DNA, Dellenger managed to gain a semblance of control of his limbs, and he turned and crashed through the doors back into the corridor.

Almost instantly, the pain began to ebb away, which allowed Dellenger to tear off his mask; he then wretched and writhed, then vomited his guts on the floor.

His legs wobbled and then gave way, forcing him to drop onto his arse.

But it'd saved his life as autogun fire flew over his head a millisecond later.

Combat instinct honed to razor-sharp over a long, long time overrode his pain and nausea. Before he knew it, he was on his feet, crouching and firing on full auto.

The gas-masked enemy twenty metres down the corridor pulled himself back into cover before Dellenger could draw a bead.

Now with his senses sliding back, Dellenger could hear the dozen or so heavy running footfalls coming from his right toward his back. So he tossed a frag grenade over his shoulder at the corner while letting off another brief burst to pin the cultist.

The explosion came a second afterwards, and the cry of the enemies caught in the blast was quite satisfying. Dellenger spun, firing from the hip and cutting down two enemies stunned by the explosion and left out in the open. Dellenger took out a photon-flash grenade and tossed it. It exploded into life in the middle of the T-junction, followed by cries. Dellenger burst forwards, autogun barking as he blasted into the six remaining enemies. Dellenger slipped into cover as the first enemy down the corridor opened fire.

Before the corpses had even fully collapsed, Dellenger had reloaded his autogun and was moving.

Another turn in the corridor was coming up, and Dellenger could hear more pairs of feet, six or seven, bashing towards the corner, even above the klaxons. After doing some rapid maths, Dellenger calculated they would be emerging into view in about three seconds. Dellenger, in the last millisecond, dropped to his knees and slid out.

The enemy had no time even to think before Dellenger was firing. He cut down five of the seven before the rest managed to stop and return fire, but by then, Dellenger was already behind cover. It was then that the cultist following his wake was stepping out from last the corner, but the range was good, and Dellenger shot him through the mask as he was raising his rifle.

Dellenger spun again, just in time to smash aside the cultist's aiming autogun with the butt of his own. Then Dellenger sent a sidekick crashing against the cultist's guts, throwing him off his feet and flailing to the floor. Dellenger dropped onto his back as the second cultist began to shoot. Dellenger then drew his laspistol and evaporated out the top of his skull. Then he lunged to his feet and hit the last one through the chest as he was beginning to stand up.

Then Dellenger's micro-bead shrilled, and he instantly answered it without bothering to check the channel.

'Yes?'

'Dellenger?' came Tathe's voice. 'Frig! You're okay; there's reports over the private vox network that-'

Dellenger barely managed to make it around the corner before the group of cultists fanned out and opened fire.

'Yes, it's me they've caught out,' said Dellenger as he glanced around and tossed another frag grenade which went off at the feet of the cultists. 'I've found some horrible gak, Delan, frigging horrible.'

More emerged further down Dellenger's corridor; they seemed to pour into sight like a flash flood. Dellenger reloaded his autogun again and cut down four, making the others dive for cover, which allowed Dellenger to do the same.

'Seems you're in one hell of a firefight, old friend,' said Tathe. 'What did you find?'

Dellenger flinched as the numerous cultists returned fire. The combined cacophony hurt the frig out of his ears. He also knew more were coming from the other corridor; soon, he'll be flanked and slaughtered. Where the hell was Kalakor?

'They're using this plague to summon a daemon of the god of disease,' Dellenger cried. 'And if my intrusion was reported over the official network, it means the local government and Ecclesiarchy are involved too! gak, I'm pinned. They're almost on me and-'

Then came the familiar bark of a boltgun around the corner, followed by wild, desperate autogun shots and the shrieking of slaughtered men. Which made Dellenger sigh out so hard it hurt his chest.

'I have arrived,' said Kalakor over the vox-link. 'You have lost your bet, Dellenger; now prepare to be forever be bragged at.'

Dellenger couldn't reply, but then he managed to hear over the chaos and klaxons, cumbersome boots echoing from the corridor with the patient rooms.

He furrowed his brow and looked that way. Did Kalakor bring a friend or...'

Dellenger's train of thought died, and his heart fell to his toes as the monster emerged into view. A three-metre tall monster in green power armour covered in pustules and dirty bronze trim. A monster that carried a giant, mutated heavy bolter in its paws.

The Chaos Marine of The Plague God raised its heavy bolter and opened fire.



Attelus knelt in a cell; the bars were made of what seemed to be iron, his hands in binders and chained to the wall above his head. They'd descended the levels, and Attelus found all of them took up the length and width of the building, and all of them were full of sick, coughing people as dozens of medicae staff in masks and protective frocks moved among them. Although, Attelus never got a glimpse of the main ground floor as he was taken down into a back room and down another flight of stairs that descended a good ten metres below the plateau.

One of the Sisters glared down at Attelus; she wasn't Satiristine; she seemed in her mid-thirties, her tanned skin scarred, her left eye milky white, and her severe bob-cut was silver. She seemed like the archetypical Sister of Battle.

Meanwhile, behind her, Satiristine and the Catachan were searching through Attelus' backpack on a battered wooden table. They'd taken Attelus' power sword, auto pistol, wrist-mounted throwing knife containers, backup knife and all of his ammo.

When the Catachan found all of this, he'd laughed and said, "damn, kid. You have more knives than a fraking regiment Brontian Longknives!' The Brontian Longknives were a famous regiment from the hive world of Bront, and they frigging loved their knives and collected them like insane hoarders, so Attelus thought he was exaggerating a little bit. They didn't take his boot knife, though, but it would be useless against the Sister's power armour unless he managed to kick them in their helmetless faces, which wouldn't be too hard. Attelus had learned the importance of a helmet in his duel against Erdaku; he still didn't wear one himself, though, making him quite the hypocrite, but oh well. They'd also relieved him of his re-breather and wrist auspex, the latter he was surprised to find he quite missed. When his re-breather was removed, he searched Satiristine's face for a sign, any sign of recognition or anything else. He was hoping for attraction, in all honesty. But he got nothing, much to a mix of emotions Attelus couldn't quite describe.

He'd been meaning to replace the blade with a monomolecular one but kept forgetting, but even then, it wouldn't do much against power armour.

The Catachan, who now looked far older than he initially seemed, slipped one of Attelus' climbing gauntlets out of the bag. 'What's this?' he said, then made the mono blades slide out of the top of it. Then the edges from the palms and comprehension seemed to cross the Catachan's face; then he looked at Attelus. 'You use these to climb up to the plateau?'

Attelus nodded.

'By the Emperor, you're frigging insane, kid,' said the Catachan. 'You even human?'

Attelus didn't reply; he would've shrugged if he could've. He wanted to respond with yes, but technically no. But thought better of it.

'Answer him, swine,' said the grey-haired Sister.

Attelus glared at her. 'That isn't how you should address a Throne Agent of the Ordo Hereticus.'

'When you trespass upon Holy ground, I could not care less if you were a High Lord of Terra. Now, answer his question, swine! Or I will make you answer it!'

'Nah, Nah, don't worry, Roliriss, it was a rhetorical question, anyway,' said the Catachan as he studied one of Attelus' climbing boots. 'But you better answer my next question, or else, I'll let her have her way with you, but not in the "fun" sense.'

Attelus rolled his eyes; the Catachan didn't need to elaborate on that implication. Then he couldn't help but steal a glance at Satiristine, who instantly met his gaze. They held it for a few seconds, and Attelus looked away.

'Why do you keep looking at me?' said Satiristine, her face red. 'It's creepy.'

'S-sorry,' said Attelus; the statement hurt him more than it should've been the last thing in the galaxy. He wanted her to think of him as "creepy", so he told her the truth. 'Y-you just look like someone I was close to years ago. I'm sorry.'

'Well, I do not care, just stop it,' she snapped, her pretty face pouting in what she might've thought as "intimidating", but to Attelus, it just seemed cute.

'Yes, o-of course,' said Attelus. 'I'm sorry.'

Satiristine then suddenly slammed her palm on the table, which made Attelus flinch. 'And stop apologising. It's stupid,' she said.

Attelus wanted to apologise again but stopped himself.

The Catachan laughed. 'You managed to climb that damned incline, but you are sweatin' around Satiristine, the smallest, nicest Sister here. But you show no fear with Roliriss, who's gotta bolter almost at ya. You're a real strange one, ain't ya? What's ya name?'

'Remember to say the truth, swine!' snapped the grey-haired Sister.

Attelus glanced at her before looking at the Catachan, fighting from letting his gaze stop on Satiristine on the way.

'My name is Attelus Kaltos.'

Much to Attelus' satisfaction, the Catachan's attention snapped to him. 'Kaltos?'

Satiristine raised a sculpted eyebrow. 'What's wrong, sir? That's just a name, is it not?'

'No, young lady, that isn't "just a name" that name ", Kaltos" belongs to the most dangerous assassin in the Calixis Sector. No wonder this Inquisitor Enandra sent you to infiltrate this place. Too bad you got caught.'

Attelus grimaced, and his gaze fell to the floor.

The Catachan pushed himself from the table and approached the bars, smiling. 'Aww, did it hurt your pride? Don't let it. It's never a bad thing when you are outdone by the best.'

Attelus glared up at him; he wanted to tell the Catachan that he wasn't "the best," If Dellenger had infiltrated the convent instead, there would've been no way in hell the Catachan could've found him out.

The Catachan knelt so they were eye-to-eye, and even then, he towered over Attelus. 'What are you to the infamous Serghar Kaltos?'

'I'm his son,' said Attelus; he wanted to spit the words and curses, but he didn't want to give away how he felt about his psychopathic arsehole of a father.

The Catachan grinned and nodded. 'I see, taking up the family business, huh? He must be proud.'

Attelus couldn't help but grimace and turn away.

'Ah, I see,' said the Catachan, and he stood and started toward the table; there, he picked up Attelus' sheathed sword and drew it.

'I ain't a swordsman or anything, but I know a good blade when I see it, and this one is damn nice, damn nice.'

The Catachan slashed the air a couple of times; he wasn't much of a swordsman, the edge off-place subtly, the slashes over-extended, like the Catachan was used to the shorter blade and was over-compensating.

'Beautiful,' said the Catachan as he dropped the sword back on the table. 'A blade only worthy of a great sword master.'

The Catachan looked at Attelus and grinned again. 'You know what? You could have killed me.'

Attelus couldn't help furrowing his brow.

'Yeah, when I had my gun on your head, you could've spun and cut me before I could've even pulled the trigger, but ya didn't, interesting.'

Attelus' eyes widened; how the hell did the Catachan figure that out?

'You ain't human, not truly. That's why you were sent on this mission. That's how you managed to climb that cliff. Your mask looks like it's from the Officio Assassinorum, but you ain't one of them. But you are an assassin, this I know. Tell me, boy, what is the actual reason you're here? To assassinate my master?'

His heart fell into his guts Attelus shook his head. 'N-no, if I were here to kill him, I would've killed you before. You know this.'

The Catachan smirked. 'Yeah, yeah, I know. So, what do you want here?'

Attelus sighed and hung his head. 'I need to talk to your master. I need to talk to Inquisitor Soloston, please.'

The Catachan grinned. 'Well, young Attelus Kaltos, you'll be happy to know that you're speaking to him right now.'

Dellenger couldn't help crying out, and he ran as the heavy bolter roared into deafening life. He managed to make it around the corner, but that exploded into chunks of rockcrete and dust. A large chunk crashed into Dellenger's back. Pain blasted into him, and he stumbled, but Dellenger kept his feet and continued to sprint.

Down the corridor, surrounded by the corpses of Militia and covered in blood, Kalakor knelt, wiping his combat knife off on one of the bodies. His bolt pistol raised, its barrel smoking.

The beak of Kalakor's helm turned to Dellenger.

'Frigging Chaos Marine!' Dellenger roared.

Kalakor holstered his pistol and unclamped his bolter. A few seconds later, his shots flew past Dellenger in a staccato.

Dellenger slipped past and took cover behind the Space Marine. He turned back.

The Chaos Marine had stepped around the corner and found itself under Kalakor's barrage of bolter fire; the Chaos Marine didn't even bother to take cover. But Kalakor's shots weren't aimed at the horror, but its heavy bolter, which was fast becoming exploded and destroyed.

Frigging clever, Dellenger couldn't help admit.

Instinct made Dellenger turn and drop into a kneel, his autogun blazing into life. More Militia were emerging into the corridor, the sound of their boots masked by the bolter fire.

Dellenger's shots sent four reeling and collapsing and the rest diving for safety. He and Kalakor had no cover, nothing; they were trapped, with a nigh-indestructible monster on one side and dozens of Militia converging from the other. Dellenger cursed as he began to shower the enemy with controlled, suppressive bursts, keeping the enemy horde ducking.

'Kalakor! Dellenger roared. 'You couldn't use any of that sorcery crap to get us out of here?'

'Not possible,' said Kalakor. 'It takes too long.'

'Of course, it does,' said Dellenger.

'But I have an idea,' said Kalakor. 'The Chaos Marines of the Death Guard, infected with the disgusting "blessings" of their horrid god, are slow of movement. I am not.'

Before Dellenger could reply, Kalakor spun and added his salvo to Dellenger's, which was far more accurate and effective—taking down several Militia in welters of exploding gore.

Suddenly, Kalakor's huge hand hauled Dellenger up and held him close to his cuirass, like a mother holding a babe, and then the world became a whirl as the Space Marine began to run. All the while, Kalakor's bolter barked, the accuracy unaffected by the movement; this was obvious even to Dellenger's bouncing, blurred vision as Kalakor's bolter exploded any militiamen foolish enough to get in their way. Dellenger wanted to add his shots too, but there was no way in hell for him to draw any kind of bead in this state. Never had Dellenger felt so useless before.

Kalakor came to a T junction and turned left. In his way were many more Militia, crowded in it. Before they could raise their guns, Kalakor cut down half of them in with a barrage, and then he was in their midst, slaughtering them with the butt and swipes of his bolt gun and kicks.

By then, autogun fire erupted from behind them. And it sheered against Kalakor's back; the shrieking of ricocheting shots managed to eclipse the cries of the Militia.

It took all of a second before the Militia were dead or maimed before Kalakor was sprinting onwards. He was ignoring what must've been a whole armoury's worth of munitions crashing against his oversized backpack.

Kalakor turned another corner, and about thirty metres at the end of it was a turn, but much to Dellenger's relief, a large window revealed the exterior and-

When Kalakor was about halfway down, two Nurgle Chaos Marines stomped to bar their way, both raising their mutated bolters. Dellenger's heart sank like never before.

Before Dellenger could say anything, with speed beyond that of even a Space Marine, Kalakor had re-magnetised his bolter, took out two krak grenades, and threw them into Chaos Marine's visors. The resulting explosions sent the Chaos Marines reeling, allowing Kalakor to sprint past them, shatter the glass with a bolt round, and then lunge outside, exploding into the strong sunlight.

Kalakor didn't slow even slightly as he bounded two steps and leapt; he hooked one hand on the top of the five-metre wall and vaulted them over the top. Less than a millisecond before the Chaos Marine's bolter fire smashed in their wake, reducing the rockcrete into shards and dust.

Kalakor landed with a loud crash but absorbed so much of the impact Dellenger didn't feel a thing. They were in the western side alleyway, only three metres wide, but the T-junction onto the main road was a good fifty metres away.

'Frig! Thanks for the save,' Dellenger gasped. 'Put me down, damn it!'

Without a word, Kalakor did as told, and then he and Dellenger sprinted on as the enemy bolters traced their wake.

'Go, go, go!' Kalakor growled unnecessarily as more Militia poured around the corner.

Dellenger and Kalakor opened fire. Dellenger's shots were fired from the hip and bounded about, yet he still managed to take down two, getting one through the chest, and winged a second across the bicep. Still, his shots were redundant to Kalakor's bolter, which rendered them into a morass of blood and body parts, so much so that when Dellenger ran through the ground-up corpses, he had to be careful not to slip over.

Kalakor burst onto the path, instantly heavy machine gunfire instantly echoed from the right and sheered off his armour. Meanwhile, small arms fire crashed against him from the left. Kalakor's bolter boomed as Dellenger came to the left-side corner, leaned out and cut down three of the dozens of more militiamen advancing down the street. It'd escalated into a miniature war; it seemed as if they'd pulled every militiaman across the city on them.

Dellenger slipped back and reloaded as the enemy returned fire. He glanced over his shoulder, expecting any second for the Death Guard to step into the alleyway after them.

'We need to move! Get in front of me! I have cleared this side,' barked Kalakor, smashing Drllenger back into reality, and without thinking, Dellenger went to move as ordered.

But Kalakor seemed to blanch and pull back as more bolter fire flew his way. 'Not clear! Not clear! Two more of the accursed Death Guard have come from the main gates!'

Dellenger allowed himself a relieved sigh; the Death Guard hadn't followed them this way; after all, they'd looped-

Instinct made Dellenger spin around just in time to see the last pair of Chaos Marines beginning to emerge into the alleyway.

'Oh, gak,' he breathed as he opened fire, despite knowing how extremely pointless it was. Then Dellenger's vox-link chimed into life.

'Dellenger,' said a voice; it was Torris. 'We're almost at the medicae centre, be ready.'



The blockade the Militia had deployed was made in haste. But a dozen militiamen still didn't move as they drove towards them in their stolen truck.

Arlathan drove as Torris rode shotgun, and he raised his Arbites' semi-auto shotgun and opened fire. One of the Militia men was hit in the chest and sent smashing off his feet. Arlathan raised his autopistol and cut down two with a flurry of wild shots.

The rest tried to get their autoguns up, but by then, Arlathan had accelerated, and as Torris blasted down three, the rest tried to scatter. The truck crashed through two of the open-backed utes, which crashed aside, and Arlathan clenched his teeth as the impact shuddered through him and the whiplash sent pain through his head and neck.

Impressively fast, the remaining Militia's gunfire began to spring off the metalwork in the back. Kollath and five of the Stormtroopers retaliated with their hellguns. Tathe's laspistol joined in their cacophony of shots, and Karmen's bolter, along with Darrance's and Delathasi's suppressed autoguns, joined in. Arlathan imagined them being cut down by the merciless shots.

Arlathan shook himself and glanced at Torris. 'Good shooting there!'

Torris shrugged and tapped the meltagun on the seat between them. 'Let's just hope we don't need to use this frigger.'

Arlathan nodded; the walls of the medicae facility emerged into view but, also...

Arlathan's whole being seemed to turn to stone as he saw the two Chaos Marines on the sidewalk as they were turning to address them.

'Karmen!' Arlathan shrieked through clenched teeth. 'Shield up, now!'

Karmen didn't question or hesitate as the kine shield sprang around the truck and the bolt shells exploded against it.

'W-what the hell is going on, Arlathan?' she cried. 'Is that frigging bolter fire?'

Arlathan didn't reply as he sent the truck into a slide, making the back face the Chaos Marines and coming to a stop. Arlathan looked over his shoulder.

The hellguns slashed into the Chaos Marines, their armour was like paper to the high-yield laser shots, but they didn't seem to slow even slightly as they laid down withering shot after withering shot against the kine shield and advanced on them.

'gak! gak! gak!' Darrance roared over the vox.

Arlathan was about to tell the assassin to shut the frig up, but solid shots sparking off the front of the truck made him flinch, and he and Torris turned back forwards.

The Militia had regrouped and received reinforcements, it seemed, as dozens more advanced alongside them, laying down a constant, massive barrage of auto fire against Karmen's shield.

Arlathan snatched up his lasgun and returned fire. 'Torris, looks like you'll be using that meltagun after all!'

'Yeah, got you,' said Torris as he grabbed his meltagun and climbed into the back; he activated his micro-bead and yelled, 'Damn it, Dellenger! Where the hell are you?'


Dellenger wanted to reply to Torris' frenzied question, but he was too busy sidestepping the Chaos Marine's fist as it flew for him. Then ducked its swinging knife. Beside him, Kalakor was a blur of close combat with the other Chaos Marine. Thanks to Kalakor's marksmanship, he'd managed to destroy both Chaos Marine's bolters, but with them being pinned down by the other two, this had allowed them to advance into close combat.

The Chaos Marine's front kick made Dellenger weave beneath it; Dellenger was...beyond standard human capacity thanks to his master's engineering back in Velrosia, but he wasn't even close to an Adeptus Astartes; all he could do was dodge the bastard's attacks with no hope to fight back.

Dellenger had no idea how much longer he could keep this up for!


Torris knelt and aimed his meltagun; the two Chaos Marines were close now; according to Torris' calculations, they would be inside the shield and able to shoot them in about a second or two.

Their stench then hit him; it smashed into his nose so horrifically it made him reel, and tears burst from his eyes and down his cheeks. It was like rotten corpses mixed with gak.

'Hurry it up, Torris!' Karmen cried.

Torris shook himself back to reality and fired. The head of the left-side Chaos Marine disappeared into a morass of melted metal. It dropped its bolter, but it stayed on its feet. The second one was almost through the shield, but Torris knew he couldn't bring his meltagun around in time. Karmen's kine shield dropped, and as the first bolt shot was about to go for Torris, with a cry, she used her telekinesis to push aside the Chaos Marine's aim, making it explode somewhere else, allowing Torris to aim his meltagun and reduce its head into molten slag.

'Where are they?' said Tathe as he and Kollath led the Stormtroopers out the back of the truck. The Stormtroopers were fanning out and firing at targets Torris couldn't see. Delathasi and Darrance turned around and supported Arlathan's lasgun shots with theirs out the truck's now-destroyed front window.

Torris glanced at Karmen, who nodded, then went limp as she left her body. Torris let his meltagun hang on its strap and followed Tathe and the others out the back and back under that damned sun. His shotgun switched around, trying to find a target; the street was full of parked vehicles, and the enemy took cover behind them, but they made for little protection against hellgun fire. No one said anything about Torris, just killing two Chaos Marines; he didn't expect any words; he was an elite Throne Agent of the Inquisition who wielded a weapon designed for killing post-humans, and that was that.

'I have found them!' said Karmen through the vox. 'They are in the adjacent alleyway; they are engaged in close combat with two more Chaos Marines. You must hurry.'

'Yes! Hurry frig you!' roared Arlathan. 'I've got a damned regiment's worth of Militia advancing on me! Kamen, get that frigging shield back up, now!'

'Go, go, go!' yelled Kollath, and they began to sprint for the turn, the Stormtroopers pausing every few seconds to lay down pinning shots at the unseen enemy.

Torris lifted his meltagun, and he and Tathe didn't pause as they sprinted, so they were the first to turn the corner, and as one, everyone froze at what they saw.

Kalakor was pinned against the wall by the neck by a Chaos Marine. It was trying to plunge a horrific, rusted, curved combat blade into Kalakor's throat, but Kalakor's hand was wrapped around its wrist. The Chaos Marine's armour was covered in cuts and stab wounds by the dozen, but it seemed utterly unaffected.

Dellenger seemed to be sliding and leaping all over the alleyway's width; it made Torris think of Attelus' fight back on Sarkeath against the Greater Daemon of the Blood God. He never saw it, but he saw the aftermath; never had he seen Attelus so exhausted; he could've only dodged the daemon's attacks with no hope of retaliating. But really, what took Torris' breath away was Dellenger; he was a blur of incredible speed and agility as he weaved and wound through the Chaos Marine's smashing fists. It must've been the same with Dellenger and this Chaos Marine, but on a much smaller scale. Despite how slow they seemed to walk, the Chaos Marine's attacks were anything but slow.

Torris shook himself back into sanity, aimed his meltagun and opened fire. It was point-blank, an easy shot, so the blast of molten, super-heated plasma took the Chaos Marine through the pauldron, then the side of its head, melting it from the neck up in an instant.

This allowed Kalakor to break free, take out his bolt pistol and boom a few shots into the Chaos Marine attacking Dellenger.

The Chaos Marine barely flinched, but it did hesitate for a nano-second, which allowed Torris an opening to kill it with another melta blast.

With his attacker dead, exhaustion seemed to overtake Dellenger, and he fell into a kneel, gasping and writhing like a grounded fish.

Tathe and Torris ran forwards and helped Dellenger to his feet as Kalakor picked up his bolter and added his fire to Kollath's and the Stormtrooper's deluge of shots.

With Dellenger between them, Tathe and Torris began back toward the street. Tathe activating his vox-link.

'We have Dellenger,' said Tathe. 'We're heading back to the truck now.'

'Hurry it up!' came Arlathan's voice. 'The enemy is almost right on us!'

'Got you!' said Kalakor. 'I shall aid you.'

Then the Space Marine turned and ran out of sight.

Tathe, Torris and Dellenger finally managed to step onto the sidewalk and almost instantly, the Stormtroopers surrounded them in an escort formation. Their hellguns lay down controlled volleys of pinning fire. Now many more militiamen had swarmed into the street, but they were no match for the six Stormtroopers who had every inch covered and cut down any enemy the split-second they popped out to fire back.

The skill and discipline of Enandra's personal Stormtrooper corps never failed to impress Torris.

Tathe, on the right, added flurries with his laspistol as well, but it was unnecessary; it seemed the ex-commissar was just trying to make himself feel useful.

Torris turned to face forwards; Kalakor was on the truck's right side, pouring bolter burst after bolter into the advancing militiamen as Delathasi and Darrance shot through the front window.

With a few sporadic shots smashing into the rockcrete wall and sidewalk in their wake, they finally managed to begin to climb into the truck. Torris and Tathe had to help Dellenger as he struggled to clamber onto the metal floor.

'Go! Go!' Tathe roared as the final Stormtrooper jumped aboard.

'What about Kalakor?' cried Dellenger through his gasping.

'Do not worry about me,' said the Space Marine. 'I will weigh down your vehicle and slow you down. I can get out of this alone; the only reason I have not done so already is because of you.'

Dellenger grimaced, and his eyes fell.

'Alright! Everyone hold on!' yelled Arlathan; as the truck exhilarated so hard and fast, everyone almost fell. 'We're not out of this yet!'

For a good ten seconds or so, the Catachan smiled at Attelus silently. Then the smile grew into a grin, and he laughed. 'Nah, nah, just kiddin' kid. But it is true, sorta. He is me right now, as he's been watchin' this all through my eyes.'

Attelus frowned. 'So, he's a psyker then?'

The Catachan tilted his head. 'Yeah, thought you would've known that as you came here to speak with him and all.'

Attelus looked away. They didn't have access to the data due to Soloston being from the Gothic Sector, so hence why they didn't know that nor even Soloston's appearance. It was interesting that Soloston happened to be a psyker as he was the first psychic Inquisitor Attelus had met, despite the fact that quite a few were said to be. But it made sense; Inquisitors were a minority, a frigging tiny minority, and psychic Inquisitors were a minority inside an already tiny minority.

'If you wanna talk to him directly first, you'll have to prove yourself trustworthy,' said the Catachan.

'What? Why can't I just talk to him through you right now?'

'Because.'

'Because why?'

'Because he's a fraggin' Inquisitor, that's why.'

Attelus rolled his eyes. 'Yes, of course, that's why; how could I have forgotten.'

The Catachan tilted his head as if listening to someone, then said, 'What's my name?'

Attelus pursed his lips and tried to recall it, but it escaped his reach.

The Catachan grinned again. 'You were able to climb up that horrid cliff, but ya can't even remember my name; what kinda Throne Agent are ya? I bet you remember hers.'

He indicated Satiristine with a waving thumb.

Attelus just stayed silent and gave her a glance, which she met with one of her own.

'A strange one, that's for certain,' said the Catachan. 'But I'll bite, kid. What do you want to know from my master? Must be somethin' real important for ya to go to such lengths to get in here.'

Attelus raised his attention to the stone ceiling. Should he just blurt that out now? Especially with the Satiristine girl right there, who may or may not be Elandria in disguise? Well, if it were Elandria, she'd know why he was here anyway, so he may as try to ask before she potentially exploded his skull with a point-blank bolt round, then took his body away for whatever nefarious purpose Etuarq had in store for it.

'I need you to tell me about Gurtar.'

Now it was the Catachan's turn for his eyes to widen, and he straightened so fast it made both Sisters turn to him.

'What is the matter, sir?' said Satiristine.

'Ain't nothin' to worry your pretty little head about little missy,' said the Catachan. 'Now, I see why you'd made so much effort to get here, kid. How'd you find out about that?'

'I was told by General Tathe of the Elbyran Contingent himself.'

Now that made the Catachan flinch.

'How...' the words seemed to die in his throat, and then he turned to the Sisters. 'You two, get outta here, now.'

Satiristine and the grey-haired Sister exchanged bemused looks.

'But-'

'Ain't no buts here, Roliriss, you gotta go. I'll call ya back in when we're finished.'

They both stared at him for a few seconds before the grey-haired Sister nodded hesitantly and then they both stomped out of sight.

The Catachan turned back to Attelus, his eyes shining in what might've been fear or rage. 'Tell me everything, now, frak ya.'



The truck tore down the road as shots rained against Karmen's kine shield. Arlathan put away his pistol to concentrate solely on driving the heavy vehicle.

Darrance and Delathasi slipped from the back and took the passenger seats, both seemly unaffected by the truck's movement.

'If I were able to pilot a void craft, I would have us out of this in a second,' said Darrance, grinning as he reloaded.

'Yeah, yeah,' said Arlathan. 'Stop your whining. Limitations such as that breed adaptability and creativity.'

'You come up with that crap yourself, or are you quoting the almighty Inquisitor?' said Darrance.

'I came up with it,' Arlathan lied smoothly.

Even still, Darrance laughed and said, 'Do not try to grox gak me, Interrogator!' Then he began to drench the road ahead in shots.



After Attelus finished his story, they were silent for a long time; he had omitted many things, again, such as his association with the Eldar and the fact Sarkeath was surrounded by a warp storm; he also made sure to lie about the time it took for him and his people to travel to and from Sarkeath. In most of the events on Sarkeath, Attelus didn't skimp on the details, but he did leave out how he was possessed by a daemonic blade and slaughtered many innocent Imperial servants. But it was his story of the fate of Omnartus which seemed to strike the Catachan. Again, Attelus neglected the involvement of Faleaseen and his enhancement at her hands, leaving the reason for the Catachan's belief he was enhanced as a mystery.

Once he was done, Attelus sighed and then clenched his teeth; he was frigging sick of re-telling that gak by now. He was sick of having to re-live it again and again, but he had no choice right now. Luckily, the Catachan didn't ask too many questions; in the beginning, he did, asking for elaboration on Taryst and Glaitis, as well as her Cult of Assassins, but it didn't take him too long to be too involved in the story to say anything more.

The Catachan sat against the table and slid his vast palms down his face.

'I...I see why you travelled so far to meet with General Tathe,' he sighed as he rubbed his eyes. 'I also see why your Inquisitor Enandra placed such responsibility on you.'

Attelus frowned. 'How so?'

He shook his head. 'Never mind. I think it's better if ya come to understand that all on your own. I gotta say...your story was...enlightening.'

'Hmm, did it answer a few of your questions, then?' said Attelus. 'Could you answer a few of mine in return, then?'

The Catachan smirked and shook his head. 'Nice try, kid but not yet. I think there's some holes in your story, so we can't trust ya yet. Unless ya can...illuminate us on those holes?'

Attelus pursed his lips and shook his head. 'Hmm, in all honesty, sir, as a Throne Agent of the Inquisition, I have the right to keep secrets I deem need to be kept even from a fellow servant of the Holy Ordos. I've "illuminated" you on more than enough, I'm afraid.'

The Catachan "humphed" and said, 'You've got balls, kid, I gotta admit, and I like how sarcastically you said "Holy Ordos".'

The Catachan turned to the door and banged his fist on it. 'You two can get back in here,' he yelled.

It opened, and Satiristine and the grey-haired Sister stomped back in. The grey-haired Sister glared at Attelus while Satiristine's attention was on the floor.

'Alright, kid, I'm gonna go talk with the Inquisitor about this stuff; I'll be back sooner or later,' said the Catachan; then he turned to leave but paused and looked back at Attelus. 'Your dad is a complete arsehole, by the way. If anything, I hope ya get even with him next time ya see him. gak, I might even try to help ya if ya ask it.'

Then he left.

Attelus tried to smile his most charming smile at the Sisters. 'Nice to have you two back.'

'Do not talk, swine!' snapped the grey-haired Sister.

'What was that about your father?' said Satiristine, which dragged the grey-haired Sister's wide-raged filled gaze from Attelus to turn on her. Satiristine stared at Attelus so intensely that he couldn't hold her gaze.

'You would know,' Attelus murmured.

'What?' snapped the grey-haired Sister.

'Nothing, nothing,' Attelus sighed, looking back at Satiristine and wondered: why was she suddenly so interested in his father?



They drove the truck a good ten kilometres out of the city; they escaped via a series of back alleys and back roads. Despite obviously being in a sullen mood, Dellenger had navigated them via a map incredibly well; his intuition and Vex back at base monitoring enemy vox traffic allowed them to dodge any enemy patrols sent to intercept them.

Their truck had been identified, and the public network announced it as being "used by terrorists that attacked the main medicae facility", so Karmen had to work full-time using her psychic power to prevent any civilian locals from seeing them; she'd done this hundreds of times, which left her exhausted beyond belief, so much so Torris had to bridal carry her, especially because she did it subtly to attempt to prevent any enemy psykers from detecting it.

They'd dumped the truck and were heading back to the city by foot through the forest again. Delathasi and Darrance took point while Tathe and Dellenger took the back. Tathe couldn't help but keep glancing at his old friend as he walked by his side, Dellenger had recovered pretty well from his exhaustion, but Tathe had never seen him so deflated.

'You okay?' said Tathe, despite feeling Dellenger didn't want him to talk.

'I'm sorry,' said the scout.

'Sorry? You've got nothing to be sorry about, my friend.'

'I do, Delan. I frigged up, bad. I might've just compromised our whole mission. Shouldn't have allowed myself to get caught.'

Tathe shrugged; he wanted to ask Dellenger how he got caught but thought it better that Dellenger explained when they got back for a report.

'I don't know about that, Del. Sometimes things happen, you know that. And it shouldn't be me you apologise to. I'm not in charge here, remember?'

Tathe nodded at Arlathan, who was walking ahead of them a few metres ahead, his back to them.

'I...' said Dellenger. 'I keep thinking that I keep frigging up because this Inquisition black-ops stuff is new for me, but it isn't; I used to do this type of stuff before. A long time ago.'

Tathe almost froze. 'Oh, yeah? First I've heard.'

'That is because I couldn't tell you until now. It was back in Velrosia as Adr-'

'No,' Tathe couldn't help interrupting. 'Not this crap again.'

Dellenger stopped and turned to Tathe. 'Please, Delan, why is it so hard to believe? You must have realised how I don't seem to age.'

Tathe clenched his jaw and his fists. 'Because, old friend, I don't know what's worse. My friend is delusional, driven insane from almost dying from a wound he should've died from ten times over, or worse. Or he's been lying about himself over the decades we'd been friends. This is on top of the fact I have to deal with your gak as well as mourning all of the men and women who'd died under my command. Many men and women I had to sacrifice who'd been my friends as long as you have. So, I don't want to hear any more about it, understood?'

The scout's eyes dropped to the ground, and he nodded. 'Yes, understood, sir.'

Tathe didn't reply, he just turned and began onward again, but he made only a few metres through the thick foliage when Dellenger called, 'You know they were my friends too, sir.'

Before Tathe knew it, he'd turned, stormed over to Dellenger, grabbed him by the collar and slammed his back against a nearby tree. Dellenger didn't resist.

'Don't you frigging dare,' Tathe hissed through gritted teeth. 'Don't you frigging dare. You didn't order them to their deaths. You don't have to carry that responsibility for the rest of your days. You've never had to deal with that; all you have always done was go off on your little scouting missions and kill sentries and all that crap. Leaving the burdens of command for others because you had no interest or ability to be a leader. So don't you even dare think your level of mourning is on the same level as mine?'

Dellenger said nothing; he just glared down at Tathe, breathing heavily through his nose.

'Hey!' called a voice making Tathe look over his shoulder. 'What the hell are you two doing?' it was Torris, who still had Karmen in his arms.

Tathe let Dellenger go. 'Nothing, Torris, just teaching Dellenger some close-quarters combat moves.'

Torris frowned and tilted his head. 'Well, whatever the hell you are doing now isn't the frigging time; we've got to move. You two should know that better than anyone.'

He then turned away, muttering something about 'guardsmen.'

Tathe went to follow but stopped when Dellenger said, 'I'm sorry, Delan. You're right, I...You must be missing Adreen, especially. Do you wish to talk about it?'

Tathe kept his back to Dellenger and wiped away the tears. 'M-maybe later, old friend. Maybe later. But...thanks.'

'We've gotta tell her,' said Kollath out of the blue.

Arlathan looked at the Stormtrooper sergeant following just behind him through the damnable, frigging undergrowth.

'No, we don't,' said Arlathan.

The lenses of Kollath's mask turned on Arlathan like he was targeting him.

'There were frigging Plague Marines at that medicae centre, Karkin. I have no idea why you think you don't have to inform her of this.'

'Because we have yet to infiltrate their main administrative facility, we can't show our hand right now.'

'I say we almost just did, Interrogator. Anyway, it doesn't mean she'll begin raining the city with Stormtroopers right after. It just means she'll know what's going on. Anyway, I'd think we've already found enough evidence to get the frig outta here and...and...'

The sergeant's voice drained away.

'And what, Kollath? Come on, spit it out.'

'Exterminatus.'

'Yes, there we go.'

'Interrogator, I'm sorry about Omnartus, but-'

'But nothing, Kollath. We aren't that far yet, no way. Besides, we don't know how Attelus is going in his assignment, so we have to wait to see how he's doing.'

'With all due respect, sir. I think we're past that now. Now, we have confirmation this plague's source is from the warp. This world is already deep into corruption or corrupt already. The plague also seems to be fostered by the local officials. If this plague spreads to other worlds...'

Kollath let the implication hang.

'Kollath, I'm no historian, but other worlds in the Imperium have been in worse condition that haven't been subjected to Exterminatus. Besides, as much as I hate this gakky backwater planet, it's important to the faith of the citizens of the Calixis Sector. We cannot subject it to Exterminatus unless it's in the most dire of dire circumstances, understood?'

Kollath said nothing, and Arlathan was more than glad for the silence, but it didn't last long.

'Even if that's true, we should get hold of the Inquisitor, anyway. I think we might need to call in the Imperial Guard or whatever is closest to this world.'

'What? You mean a full-scale planetary invasion?'

The sergeant nodded slightly. 'I think it's gotta be done. At least get them to back us up.'

Arlathan grimaced. The act of summoning the Emperor's Hammer and anvil to bring down hundreds of thousands, or even millions of men and women, to make war across an entire world was almost unthinkable to him. Never had they done it over the three years Arlathan had been in the Inquisition. They'd never had to, and it was easy to forget they had such overreaching power. Arlathan tried his best to devise a reason to deny Kollath's idea but found himself unable to think of anything. As much as he hated to admit it, Kollath was right.

'Alright, fine,' sighed Arlathan. 'Once we get back, we'll hail Inquisitor Enandra over the vox.'

'If we're still able to,' muttered Darrance as he materialised from the underbrush a few metres away, making Arlathan flinch, and Kollath and the Stormtroopers snap their aims at him.

'Stand the frig down,' said Arlathan. 'Why do your kind always have to do that crap?'

Darrance grinned. 'Because it's fun.'

'Yeah, well, you keep doing it. You might get a little black hole burned through your skull,' said Kollath.

Darrance shrugged. 'We've been watching the city. The place is still on high alert, so we'll have to be extra careful.'

'Are the local Magistratum involved in the search?' said Arlathan.

'Yes,' said Darrance. 'But that doesn't confirm or say anything about their involvement with the enemy.'

'What about the Arbites?' said Torris as he approached their backs, almost as silent as the scouts, despite Karmen still being in his arms. Tathe and Dellenger followed him. 'If they're aiding in the search, that most definitely means volumes if they are.'

Darrance shrugged. 'I did not see anything of them partaking, Torris. If we have to, before our Imperial Guard allies come, I think we might have to start working with them.'

Arlathan rolled his eyes. 'You think so, huh? They turned out to be enemies back on Omnartus. One of their ornithopters slaughtered many innocent Imperial citizens when they ambushed us, remember? Not to mention they almost had us dead to rights.'

'Yes,' said Darrance. 'But they were manipulated by Etuarq's people who were likely masquerading as Inquisition. So they cannot be blamed for that.'

'And what makes you think they aren't being manipulated by Etuarq's people here and now?' said Arlathan.

Darrance pursed his lips and nodded. 'That's a...good point. Should we look into them, then?'

Sighing, Arlathan glanced at Kollath, who nodded slightly. 'I suppose. Damn it! This mission is getting more and more complicated.'

'I guess,' said Darrance. 'But I doubt it will ever get as complicated as the Omnartus Incident.'

'Don't say that,' said Torris. 'It might cause it to happen.'

'I did not take you as a believer in such foolish superstition, Marcel,' said Darrance.

'I'm not,' said Torris. 'It's just if there's anything I've learned over the past three years or so, it is that anything is possible. Anything.'

'Makes sense,' said Arlathan. 'Anyway! We are burning time; get moving the hell on!'

Everyone began to move while Darrance melted out of sight. Arlathan glanced over his shoulder at Tathe, who seemed every bit as sullen and weary as Dellenger. If they had to bring in the Guard, Arlathan was more than glad Tathe was in their Warband; he'd make for the perfect liaison between the Inquisition and the Imperial Guard.

But the best thing of all, it'd get the Commissar out of his damned hair.



After a long silence, Satiristine looked at Attelus; then she began to approach his cell and fell into a kneel, her eye plastered onto Attelus'.

'Who was this girl who looked like me?' she said in a tone that demanded answers so powerfully it took Attelus' breath away.

'Satiristine, do not speak with this swine,' said the grey-haired Sister.

Satiristine just turned a glare so strong that the grey-haired Sister flinched and looked away.

She turned back to Attelus. 'Who was she?'

'Why are you so interested?' said Attelus.

'It does not matter. Who was she?'

Attelus sighed. 'She was a...colleague of mine.'

The grey-haired Sister sneered. 'You do not think us so naive to be convinced she was just a colleague?'

'No, I don't believe that. It was true. As before we could become anything more, she died. She bled out in my arms.'

'Aww boo hoo,' said the grey-haired Sister. 'I hold no sympathy for a-'

'A swine like me, yeah yeah, I know,' Attelus snarled. 'By the Emperor, you're a complete b-'

'I am sorry,' said Satiristine.

The young Sister's head was tilted toward the floor so that Attelus couldn't make out much of her face behind her thick fringe. 'What was her name? If you don't mind that I ask?'

'N-no, I don't mind. I just realised it mightn't have been her real name, in all honesty. But her name was...Elandria.'

Satiristine nodded. 'That's a pretty name. What was she like?'

'I...she was...' Attelus' sentence wandered off; how could he describe Elandria, exactly? Indoctrinated? Ruthless? Complicated? Crazy? She was truly a victim in her own right, denied a life of her own in service of a death cult, and now her whole self had been erased and replaced by...something...else. Perhaps, if he...took her down, it was more a mercy than anything else? If he thought of it that way, perhaps if he had to do it, it'd make it easier, somehow?

Attelus was utterly sure Elandria, beneath the blunt persona and brainwashing, was a good person. She'd proven that without doubt when she refused to kill Attelus when he gave her a chance and when she confirmed he'd saved those people from that rampaging Arco-Flagellant in the Twilight Bar back on Omnartus with her dying breaths. He wanted to tell Satiristine that she was as beautiful as her, that Elandria had the potential to be as lovely as n kind as her if she'd been given the opportunity, which made Attelus wonder why she was a Battle Sister and not a Sister Hospitaller. She must've been a damned skilled warrior as well.

Tears welled in Attelus' eyes which he fast blinked back; he sniggered as he found an adjective which described her well enough. 'Intense, she was very intense.'

The grey-haired Sister barked a laugh. 'Surely you can do better than that.'

'I frigging could,' Attelus snapped. 'But this is too frigging personal. I'm not going to blurt this stuff out to two people I just met. Even if one of them looks just like her.'

Indeed he did; Attelus wanted to say how he missed her so much. He wanted to say how he hated even thinking about potentially fighting and killing her. The injustice of her horrid fate. The sadism of his father and his master in bringing her back. The pain he'd gone through after her death and how that pain came back in force when he found out she was still alive, "alive" in the most liberal use of the term. He wished she'd stay dead and hoped she didn't look so much like her and...

He realised he'd never really talked about this before, not even to the Inquisitor, and especially not to Adelana, as he knew she'd just get jealous. It took almost all of his will to keep himself from pouring those confessions from his mouth. Attelus looked at Satiristine and wondered why he wanted to tell her so much. It couldn't be just because she looked like Elandria, could it? Could it be because of her supposed kindness and femininity? In all honesty, she reminded him more of Adelana than Elandria.

Satiristine met his eyes. 'I can see now that you are a person who copes with a lot of pain, Attelus Kaltos. More pain than I could possibly imagine. But you are not alone and-'

Attelus interrupted her with a snigger. 'If you're going to say "the God-Emperor" is with me, I know that's grox gak. In all honesty, after everything I've been through, after everything I've done, I know I don't deserve His protection, and I don't want it, and-'

'Look here, blasphemer-'

'Shut the hell up and let me finish!' Attelus snarled with such intensity it made the Grey-haired Sister clamp her mouth closed so fast Attelus heard her teeth clack together and Satiristine flinch.

'Because there are people throughout this damned galaxy who are far more deserving of his help than I am,' Attelus sighed, looking straight back into Satiristine's eyes. 'That's why.'

They did this for a few seconds before her face flushed, distinct on her pale skin, and then she looked away.

The grey-haired Sister made a gagging sound. 'Oh God-Emperor, please do not cause me to puke.'

Tathe couldn't believe how joyous he felt when they finally arrived back at the mouldy, mildewy building they called a hideout. It was almost like returning to his and his father's home in Varander. What a ridiculous sentiment.

He also began to feel guilty about how he'd treated Dellenger earlier. His friend seemed to wish to open up about his past and who he was almost desperately now. Dellenger had been more expressive and talkative over the past few weeks than in decades. Maybe that was his true self, and now he felt he could share that after decades.

Tathe slumped down on the couch as the rest of the team began to file into the lounge after him. They were exhausted far beyond what seemed reasonable for the exertion they'd just endured. Dellenger seemed one of the freshest, even though he should've been the most tired of all of them besides his sullenness.

As always, Vexs sat at his cogitator and barely acknowledged them as they entered. Everyone except Delathasi drew his eyes for a good few seconds before he managed to tear them away.

Karmen, who'd managed to begin walking on the way back to the city, sat beside Tathe pushed the back of her head against the back and stretched her legs out while kicking off her shoes. Tathe was glad he wasn't in charge, so he didn't have to lead the de-briefing.

Arlathan entered, and Tathe couldn't help but be impressed by the Interrogator's presence; he was a good leader but still had a while before becoming a great one. He failed at hiding his insecurities toward Tathe's presence. It was damn frustrating.

'Has Kalakor got back yet, Vex?' said Arlathan.

Vex nodded. 'Came back an hour before you did. Then he went out to scout the perimeter, you know, the usual.'

'It's almost like we're holding him back or something,' said Dellenger in the sulkiest tone Tathe had ever heard as he glared at the wall.

Everyone looked at the scout in shock, and it was a few seconds before Arlathan broke the silence.

'Anyway, Vex, anything of real interest on the governmental vox network?'

Vex finally took his eyes off the monitor and looked at Arlathan. 'What? Stuff like, "Praise the god of rot and decay?" And, "We are going to conquer the entire Calixis Sector with our plague?" If that's what you mean, then no, they're keeping it professional and quiet, nothing beyond the parameters of normal Imperial communication.'

'Hmm,' said Darrance. 'It's almost as if they're trying to keep this secret even from some of their own people. Almost as if not everyone here is corrupted, so we should not call down an Exterminatus yet.'

As he said this, he fixed a glare at Kollath, who met Darrance's look without flinching. Tathe had no idea what the frig the assassin was going on about; well, he did. The Stormtrooper seemed like the kind of ruthless bastard who would suggest an Exterminatus after finding what they found. Plague Marines. Frigging Plague Marines, their presence changed things; it changed everything. It was one step down from a full-scale daemonic invasion.

Now he thought about it, Tathe couldn't blame the sergeant for jumping to suggesting Exterminatus.

To his credit, Arlathan hid his annoyance at Vex's customary insolence quite well, but Tathe could see it. If one of his subordinates had talked to Tathe like that, he'd have chewed out his ear so badly he wouldn't be able to hear in that ear for hours afterwards. But this wasn't the military, but an Inquisitorial Warband, which was mildly military at best and encouraged individualism far more than the Imperial Guard.

'Dellenger, tell us what happened in that medicae centre in as much detail as you can.'

Dellenger nodded, and, as gracefully as ever, he stood and gave them a recount of his and Kalakor's misadventure. He still wore that militia uniform and carried the autogun, which made Tathe wonder where his original uniform was, probably found by the enemy and being

Much to Tathe's non-surprise, Tathe being caught out wasn't his fault, not truly, but the presence of some horrid daemonic force, but Dellenger would beat himself up far too much over it. Especially because of Kalakor's earlier statement.

Dellenger should've been honoured that a Space Marine would go out of his way so much to rescue him. That meant Kalakor might respect him, even a little, which spoke more volumes than a mere sentence that Kalakor likely meant to insult by stating a fact as Space Marines would do in their strange way.

'And...' said Darrance, 'That is the most disgusting thing I've ever heard.'

'Hmm,' said Karmen as she stroked her chin, her first utterance for hours. 'It is truly disgusting as frig, but it makes me wonder. How did this pass the notice of this Inquisitor Soloston? We're here because of him, aren't we?'

'We don't know if he is here or not yet,' said Arlathan. 'And who knows? Could he be helping this? He certainly wouldn't be the first Inquisitor to go traitor. Our true enemy is the foremost example.'

'He might be holed up in that Adepta Sororitas convent repenting for his sins with flagellation like an idiot instead of doing anything practical,' said Darrance.

'That's a likelihood as well, Darrance. Hopefully, we'll be hearing from Attelus soon,' said Arlathan. 'But now we have a new mission. Back on Omnartus, Etuarq's agents managed to get control of the local Adeptus Arbites, so we need to investigate them too and gain access to their vox network as well. Torris, Darrance, Vex, and Karmen, you start planning. Tathe, Dellenger, we're going to speak to Enandra. Delathasi, Darrance, Kollath, you and your Stormtroopers rest up.'

'I'm sorry,' blurted Dellenger.

Arlathan's gaze narrowed at the scout. 'Sorry? Sorry about what?'

'I...failed in my mission. I frigged up. I was caught out...again. I might've compromised the entire mission. I got arrogant and rushed in, and...yeah.'

Tathe fought a smile; now, this would be an interesting test for the Interrogator's leadership skills.

The Interrogator raised an eyebrow. 'From your story, it seemed like you got discovered because of something that was beyond your control.'

Dellenger just shrugged.

'Unless you were lying about what happened. Did you lie about what happened, trooper?'

'No, sir.'

'So then you have nothing to be sorry about. You found out what we needed to know, and we managed to kill four of those damnable Plague Marines in the process of our escape. Are the enemy now more aware of us? Yes, but that just means we have to adapt, and that's just how it goes, always. You should know that as a soldier.'

'I do, I just-'

'No, stop moping. Just do better next time.'

Tathe allowed himself a smile; he couldn't have done it better himself, especially in the condition his mind was in now. Which made him even more glad he wasn't in charge. He and Dellenger were still psychologically reeling from the hell of Sarkeath, even before he'd led his friends and comrades in a complete suicide mission, which left 99% of them dead. No matter how much they do and fight and avoid it, that trauma won't go away, ever. Dellenger would be suffering the same; it was likely why the poor guy was making mistakes.

Tathe looked at his feet, and he realized that how he'd treated Dellenger wouldn't have done him any good. Dellenger, more than ever, needed a friend, and so did Tathe.

And So did Tathe.



Enandra stepped off the ramp of the Guncutter, followed by her Stormtrooper escort and her blank and onto the floor of the hangar bay of The Audacious Edge. She'd just returned from The Xenocide for the third time going over there. So far, they'd been quite amenable to her leadership. The men in the lower decks especially, after she made sure to go down there and speak with them as if they were human beings, promised to pay them a wage so they could have proper food, amenities and off-time on worlds they are in the orbit of, although she doubted many of them could handle the gravity or suns of worlds. Securing the loyalty of the blue-collar workers was arguably the most essential aspect of her "inheriting" The Xenocide to prevent what happened back in the orbit of Iocanthos.

And because she'd be a tremendous hypocrite for exploiting the little man, that happened far too much across the Imperium of Mankind.

Enandra's vox bead beeped, and she accepted it.

'Enandra here,' she said as she began toward the entrance.

'Inquisitor,' came Arlathan's voice. 'I'm calling in to report and-'

'Arlathan, I'm in the middle of heading to my quarters. Can we speak later?'

'Mamzel, I'm sorry, but we need to speak now. I cannot risk another voice communication. We might be detected.'

That made Enandra pause. 'Yes, understood. Tell me everything now, then.'

'Yes, mamzel, but first I must warn you it's worse. It's much, much worse than we thought...'



Attelus clenched his teeth against the constant cramp buzzing in his legs. He wanted to wipe the tears from his eyes; he hoped the Sisters didn't think they were for Elandria.

Since his little outburst, no one had said a word, and Attelus was glad about this. He couldn't help but feel manipulated into giving too much away. Attelus couldn't tell what exactly he said was "too much," but there was something—there was always something.

He glanced at Satiristine again, and she met his gaze, but it was only for a split second.

Attelus sighed; despite this, he wanted to keep talking to her; he wanted to get to know her more. She seemed so sweet, so kind and-

He shook away his train of thought; he was being a complete idiot, yet again losing his professionalism because of a pretty face. Attelus tried his best to always learn from his mistakes, but that was one he never did.

Attelus laughed, which made Satiristine blink and the grey-haired Sister frown.

'What is so funny, swine?'

'Nothing much, just the fact that the only thing more infinite than the nothingness of the void is human idiocy, myself included.'

That made the grey-haired Sister's face crinkle in rage. 'Now look here! Mankind is the greatest of all, and I will not-'

The heavy wooden door into the dungeon suddenly unlocked and swung open, and The Catachan entered; he was followed by the Canoness, the Scribe from earlier and a hulking brute in gold and bronze power armour. He carried the Warhammer iconic to the Ordo Malleus, and a golden "I" was emblazoned chest on his oversized shoulder pads. Attelus would've thought he was a Space Marine if he didn't know how huge actual Space Marines were. This must've been Soloston, who, like many in his Ordo, was incredibly militant and wasn't afraid to flaunt it. His feet seemed to shake the entire dungeon.

'You!' said the Inquisitor, his voice vox modified to be as deep and powerful as a Space Marines. Pointing a gauntleted finger at him. 'Are Attelus Kaltos Throne Agent of the Ordo Hereticus.'

Attelus nodded, even though he was sure it was a statement, not a question.

The Inquisitor began to pace around, slamming his Warhammer against the palm of his gauntlet. It would've been funny if Attelus hadn't been chained to a wall and if Soloston hadn't been in power armour.

'You sneak onto this Holy Ground like some heretic and expect us to believe such a ridiculous story? I should...'

The Inquisitor drew an equally elaborate bolt pistol from a holster on his hip and raised it, twisting it in the air menacingly. 'I should execute you for such a heinous sin. Why did you try to infiltrate? Did you suspect us of heresy? Did you suspect the almighty, pure Adepta Sororitas as turning against the God-Emperor of Mankind? Even though none have ever fallen into heresy. Too bad you failed miserably.'

Attelus pursed his lips; he knew that wasn't true. There was at least one, but perhaps Soloston didn't know due to being Ordo Malleus.

'No, as I explained to him,' Attelus nodded at the Catachan, who smirked, having just had it confirmed that Attelus had already forgotten his name. 'I was infiltrating to gather intelligence for my master before she was to come down herself; she values subtlety over all else, and that's why she's grown to be secretly so influential across the Calixis Sector, more so than many other Inquisitors. Surely you can see the importance of intelligence gathering? And if I thought you were heretics, would I have been so cooperative when I was caught out? Surely he told you he believed I could've taken him out after he'd caught me out?'

'That he did,' said the Inquisitor. 'But you do seem to value subtlety, so it could be a part of another machination for this Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra of the Ordo Hereticus.'

Attelus sighed again. It was like talking to an adamantium wall, both literally and figuratively, so he decided to plunge right into it.

'I think this world has been infected by the influence of the god of plague and pestilence.'

Now that made silence hang in the air as everyone stared at Attelus, Satiristine included, and Attelus couldn't help letting his eyes meet hers for a second.

'Do not be ridiculous,' snapped the Canoness as she seemed to regain herself. 'This world of Quoranda is one the holiest in the sector; its people are pure and faithful beyond compare. It is impossible for it to be encroached by the Ruinous Powers.'

This took Attelus aback, and he gaped. 'B-but where do you think this plague is coming from?'

'Plagues and sicknesses are natural occurrences more often than not,' said the Scribe in a suitably nasally voice. 'In my research, I have found no evidence of the plague being influenced by the warp.'

'O-okay, but on my way here, I encountered and killed a Bark Snake, and it was covered in pustules, and when I took its head off, it sprayed out horrible thick gunk like a hose.'

'Impossible,' said the Canoness through gritted teeth. 'How dare you question the faith of the people of Quoranda? They would not allow their faith to weaken so much to allow themselves to become sick with the corruption of the Plague god!'

'Yes, and my tests have not shown any warp influence,' said the Scribe. 'Also, one of the local fauna having pustules and being infected with something does not prove anything.'

'Hmm, perhaps not,' said Attelus, and he wished more than ever he could shrug; until now, he hadn't realised how much he relied on the movement. 'But I do have a good idea of where I'd left it. You have a flyer, right? You could go and at least have a look at it. Do an autopsy or whatever. That gak's out of the realm of my expertise.'

'Yes, but attempting to sneak into a Holy Convent and failing miserably is,' said the power armoured monster.

Attelus pursed his lips, unable to contest that point at all.

'No,' said the Canoness. 'No, we should not. We should not believe a word you say. Your act of barging in here renders any of claims nought.'

'So, what's the point of you coming down here to talk to me, then?' said Attelus. 'Tell me, when was the last time any of you have left the convent?'

His reply was silence.

'Okay,' said Attelus. 'It's been a long time, then. So, how have you been getting the patients you've been testing and treating? Not from the local government, have you?'

'Of course,' said the Canoness. 'And they have my unwavering trust. The Drusian Cult are deeply intertwined with them. The Ecclesiarchy would not allow even a sliver of corruption to take hold of them, for they are pure. You should know this as a servant of the Ordo Hereticus.'

'Actually, as a servant of the Ordo Hereticus and a student of history, I know the Ecclesiarchy has been less than pure numerous times over the millennia. Have you heard of a person named Goge frigging Vandire? The Inquisition of the Calixis Sector has been stuck cleaning the mess you made millennia ago against their remnants, the damned Temple Tendency.'

The Canoness' face went bright red, and she bristled, which was distinct even in her power armour. 'How dare you! It was us of the Adepta Sororitas who killed Vandire after we spoke to the God-Emperor Himself! We received the word from the God-Emperor Himself. You cannot say the same!'

'No, I can't. But It wasn't you, but your predecessors, the Brides of the Emperor. Or their leader, Alicia Dominica.'

'Mere semantics,' she said. 'God-Emperor, you are an infuriating little gak, aren't you?'

Attelus grinned. 'I aim to please. But my point still stands.'

Attelus looked at the Scribe. 'In all honesty, I understand your scepticism, but you should still investigate to at least corroborate my claims. That's something you should do as a scientist and an Inquisitor, isn't that right, Inquisitor Soloston of the Ordo Malleus?'

Soloston's expression didn't change beneath his circular red goggles. 'I hope you do not think I will be impressed that you managed to figure out that I am he, young man.'

'No, but I did manage to manipulate you into giving yourself away, so that is something,' said Attelus, not on purpose, mind you.

'May haps,' said Soloston. 'But if you wish for us to cooperate with you, you are not doing yourself any favours. Your smugness is grating, to say the very least, so learn some humility.'

'Yeah, you're right,' Attelus sighed. 'My apologies. I didn't mean to come off that way. But could you please at least investigate that creature?'

'No. I will only if this Inquisitor Enandra herself bothers to come down here and speak to me. And that also goes toward me giving you any information about what occurred on Gurtar.'

'Okay, fine, fair enough, so could you let me call her on my vox-link then, please?'

'No.'

Attelus blinked. 'What? Why not?'

'Because you have not proven yourself trustworthy yet,' said Soloston. 'Both Goruan and I believe you held much back during your story, and you even admitted to it. Also, this is no longer my jurisdiction. I am here now to find a cure for this plague and nothing more.'

Attelus clenched his teeth and fought the sudden urge to roar out his frustration; what the frig was wrong with these idiots?

'Are you going to re-tell your story without holding back anything?' said the power armoured giant.

'There's more at stake here than me keeping a few secrets,' said Attelus, the syllables bursting from his lips like bolter shots. 'Please! At least let me call my master and-'

'First, you sneak in here,' said the Canoness, 'then you speak ill of the holy servants of this most sanctified of worlds, and you act like a smug little bastard, too. You cannot demand anything, you little frig!'

'I am an agent of the Ordo Hereticus, mamzel,' growled Attelus. 'You said it yourself. You are the Chamber frigging Militant of the Ordo Hereticus, not the Ordo Malleus! I might not be an Inquisitor, but I do have jurisdiction over Soloston here.'

'Maybe, but since his arrival, Inquisitor Soloston and his people have proven to be nothing but faithful and helpful. Where, in comparison, you have come in here clandestinely and been a little gak on top of that.'

Attelus sighed and looked at the Catachan, hoping he'd say something. He'd seemed the most reasonable so far, but the Catachan avoided his gaze and shuffled his feet.

The sound of someone clearing their throat caused everyone to look to its source, and they found it was Satiristine, much to Attelus' shock.

'Would it be...permissible if I may speak on this?' she said timidly.

'No,' said Soloston, then he turned and walked out, the power-armoured giant, the Catachan and the Canoness following in his wake.

Satiristine smiled and looked at Attelus. 'I am sorry. I tried to help you, Attelus.'

Attelus didn't reply; he couldn't, partly because of her hypnotising smile but mainly because he was shocked she seemed to be on his side. Attelus knew that should've just made him all the more suspicious of her, but he found himself incapable of that.

He really still was a complete idiot.

The star-coated clear sky of night and the rays of moonlight wafted into the lounge as Arlathan held the vox horn to his ear.

'As per your request, I have sent out the astropathic communications,' said Enandra. 'Hopefully, they'll be received soon, and we'll get reinforcements. I have also had the Audacious Edge and The Xenocide begin moving into the system as close as possible if you need Stormtrooper reinforcement but to keep the potential of detection low. I fear me going down waving my rosette might not be a good idea right now. Are you sure you do not wish for backup yet?'

Arlathan gave Tathe a glance, the former commissar, Karmen and Darrance loitered in the lounge as Vex sat at the vox caster, headphone pushed on one ear as he monitored vox traffic, then he would glance, then type on his cogitator ever so often.

'Yes, mamzel. We need to gather more information first,' said Arlathan.

'Are you sure it is worth the time and resources to infiltrate the Arbites? You have enemy Chaos Marines on the planet.'

'Yes, mamzel, we must not forget our true enemy and how they work. If the Adeptus Arbites are not allied with Etuarq's people and aren't corrupted, making sure they can be allies will be worth the effort.'

'I see,' said Enandra. 'Your logic is sound, Interrogator. Maybe if they aren't aligned with the heretical elements, they might investigate the incident at the medicae facility and uncover the evil, horrid things that are going on there. Make sure to inform Dellenger that I think he did an excellent job and not to beat himself up too much about it.'

'Of course, mamzel,' said Arlathan. 'Heard anything from Attelus yet?'

'I have not, Arlathan, but I did not expect to hear from Attelus for a little while yet. But wait for another eight hours. If Attelus has not reported with me, I will not call you, so would you have Karmen Kons go incorporeal and check on him?'

That made Arlathan pause, and he exchanged a glance with Karmen. 'Understood, but it could be risky.'

'I know, but I have faith in Karmen's abilities to remain undetected.'

'Yes, understood, Inquisitor.'

'You sound put off by this, Arlathan. You know I care for my people. Why are you surprised?'

'Not sure.'

'Okay, Arlathan. Well, you have walked into a veritable gak-storm, and thus, I wish you and your team the best of luck.'

'Thank you, mamzel, Enandra, we'll need it.'

She cut the link.

Arlathan looked at Darrance and nodded. The master assassin nodded back and then left the room.

He turned to Karmen. 'No sign of any psychic activity?'

Karmen pouted and shook her head. 'No, if they had psykers looking over the city, it might have occurred when I was recovering from covering our escape. The psychic blocks on us would prevent them from finding us, anyway.'

'I know that, Karmen. But what about our prisoner?'

Karmen nodded. 'I placed a temporary block on his mind during our interrogation; it was a rushed one, though, so not comparable to ours. I added it on top of his original one. If the enemy did use psykers to find us, and it did not work, hundreds of enemy militia would have besieged this gak hole of a building already.'

Arlathan thought on that, trying to think of a good "Attelus" paranoid way of doubting Karmen's logic, but he couldn't find anything.

'How long before we can penetrate his block, do you think?'

Karmen sighed and shrugged. 'Good question. It could take hours. It could take weeks.'

'I'd just put a las round through his skull and leave it at that,' said Tathe. 'That frigger is nothing but a liability. But I'm just a mindless foot slogger incapable of the nuanced thinking special snowflake Throne Agents need to be capable of.'

Karmen smiled. 'I know that isn't true, and you more than know that's untrue.'

Tathe just shrugged.

'Actually, I think you make a good point, Tathe,' said Arlathan as he stroked his chin. 'If we fail to get into his mind by the day after tomorrow, you can "take care" of him if you so wish.'

Tathe gaped, but he seemed to recover quickly. This made anger rage through Arlathan. Did Tathe think he was so petty that he wouldn't take on his consultation?

'Hmm, makes sense,' said Karmen. 'We have to let the prisoner recover, so what do we do now?'

Arlathan sat on one of the couches and reclined back. 'We wait and let the stealthy boys do their thing,' he said.



Whether it was night or day, it didn't matter to Dellenger; either way, he slipped from shadow to shadow, street to alleyway to rooftop, in complete silence. His new cameleoline cloak wrapped around him; he hadn't left his cloak and flak armour behind as he'd placed it into the standard-issue backpack he'd been using since he first joined the Guard so long ago.

He could barely make out Darrance and Delathasi in the gloom, which was impressive, to say the least. Dellenger also found it somewhat amusing that all the people whose names began with "D" were the scout/stealth specialists. The three of them were approaching from the east, while Kalakor came from the west. The Space Marine was going to act in support this time for a couple of reasons. First, unlike the medicae facility, the Adeptus Arbites' buildings were fortresses designed to defend and resist infiltration. So, thanks to Torris's knowledge, they had to get creative with their ways in. Ways too small and tight for even a highly agile Space Marine like Kalakor.

Speaking of Torris, Dellenger paused in his advance and looked back. With impressive stealth skill, the ex-arbite was lagging behind them a few metres, Dellenger's old cameleoline cloak covering him.

'You alright?' said Dellenger.

'I'm fine,' said Torris, sounding offended that Dellenger would even ask. 'I don't need your pity. This gak isn't for me.'

'No pity,' said Dellenger. 'You're doing pretty well, but as you said, this isn't your specialisation and-'

'Shut it and hurry it up, you two,' Darrance hissed from the darkness.

Dellenger couldn't help but flinch, and he did as told. The streets were silent and empty, but often, Dellenger would catch glimpses of the locals standing vigil around the cathedral at the centre of the city. But they'd already had to dodge two dozen enemy patrols. Since his frig up earlier in the day, they'd stepped up security. They should've done this after Dellenger took out their scouts the night before, assuming they were on the same side.

They climbed to the top of a seven-story tall hab block and knelt to survey the Arbites headquarters, which loomed about half a kilometre away.

Now viewing it this close, it seemed to adhere to the design Torris mapped out for them. Forty stories tall and ninety metres in width, one hundred and fifty metres in length. It was a big, blunt rectangle, showing very little ostentation, unlike most institutions of the Imperium of Mankind, which was something Dellenger could admire. Around the tower, it was a ten-metre-high wall. The main gate was on this side, a vast thing that rose above the wall by another two metres and ten metres wide. On it was the only ostentation, the symbol of the Adeptus Arbites, an "I" with a gauntleted hand holding a scale.

Dellenger slipped out his scope and zoomed into the top of the wall, finding two heavily armoured enforcers on patrol, something Torris had told them about.

'I think you vastly understated how impossible this is going to be, Torris,' said Delathasi, which made Dellenger smile. He didn't expect such snark to come from the young lady.

Torris grinned. 'Guess I frigged up. I never had to infiltrate one of these before. I just lived in it and all that crap. But if we stick to the plan, we can do this.'

'We managed it back on Omnartus,' said Darrance. 'We can do it here now.'

The mention of that planet made Dellenger flinch; he knew now, roughly, the events that led up to the death of the world. Whenever anyone who took part in that incident mentioned it, even offhand, it always had a huge weight. He'd been through many things in his life, many horrible things, but fighting so hard only to fail so badly in one of the biggest fights anyone could ever take part in—the deaths of twenty billion people. Twenty billion, Dellenger was old enough to appreciate how big that number was; a billion was one thousand times a million. A thousand times a million and twenty times that. Twenty billion people who all had lives, dreams, friends, and loved ones as much as one can have in a Hive World in the Imperium of Mankind.

Dellenger had no idea how the young man Attelus Kaltos could do anything, let alone keep going under the weight of the guilt he must carry. Not just at failing to stop it but being indirectly responsible for it happening, even if that could be debated. It almost seemed like the polar opposite of Dellenger's friend Prince Royd who succeeded in saving the people of Elbyra against the skeletons of steel. The skeletons that slaughtered all in their way, the skeletons that no weapon could damage. Even the great Velrosian blades. Elbyra only had millions and millions of people rather than billions. But Royd had sat on that Silver Throne, and his sacrifice destroyed the skeletons of steel in mass in one blast of white light. Royd died, unable to appreciate the amazing thing he did. Attelus survived on to know the horrible thing he had inadvertently caused.

'Anyway, let's move,' said Darrance, bringing Dellenger back to reality. 'We all know the plan.'

Dellenger was finding it easier and easier to become lost in his memories lately. His confession to his friend had seemed to trigger it. He had to gain control of it; Dellenger had to focus on how glad he was to get another chance to make up for his earlier mistakes. So they melted away into the dark, Delathasi, Torris and Dellenger in one way—Darrance in another.



Despite his best efforts, Attelus' eyes finally slammed shut, and his head dropped down until his chin hit his chest. The blackness began to become deeper darkness as sleep overcame him. He clenched his teeth and shook himself back awake.

He found the grey-haired Sister and Satiristine watching him. Both were smiling a bit; the grey-haired Sister's smile was contemptuous, while Satiristine's was genuine.

'I do not understand how you can sleep like that,' said Satiristine.

'I am so exhausted from...climbing and...gak...just please let me free. I'm not an enemy. I need a bed. Frig...'

'Yes, I hope you suffer, swine like you deserve to suffer,' said the grey-haired Sister. 'But I think you deserve worse. If I had it my way, you would be flagellated over and over again until the skin on your back is torn off your back and the muscle revealed for the convent to see. And I would be the one doing it.'

Satiristine frowned and looked side-long at the grey-haired Sister. 'Roliriss...'

'No, Satiristine, it's true,' said the grey-haired Sister. 'And unlike you, my v-'

'Do not say anything more!' Satiristine snapped. 'By the God Emperor, you are a foul-mouthed...'

Attelus watched on; if he were trying to get them to turn on each other, he'd be happy, indeed. He regretted sneaking in like this that perhaps Enandra had made the wrong call ordering him to infiltrate, especially when the mission was to speak to Soloston. She'd let her prejudice get the better of her, and here he was, dealing with the consequences.

That, and he let himself get captured, of course, but in hindsight, a more diplomatic approach might've been a better idea. Attelus had been out manoeuvred by the Catachan, no ifs or buts about it. Attelus had always thought he was good at stealth, and he was; Attelus had always had a natural affinity for it since he was young. But by the Emperor was he far, far from being the best. He'd learned that while working aside the famous Velrosian scouts and certainly learned it with the Catachan. To say it was a blow to his pride was the understatement of the century.

Attelus also considered pushing past his anxiety, putting aside his pride, and telling Soloston everything. His alliance with the Eldar, even though he was a Perpetual too. Tell him things that he didn't even tell Enandra, hoping Soloston would tell him everything in return. But in all honesty, that would be a vain hope; Soloston seemed the type of Inquisitor who wouldn't believe him about being a Perpetual. If he did, he'd lock Attelus up to perform horrific experiments on him for centuries to come. Which would be one of the worst fates an immortal could be subjected to Attelus was, for all intents and purposes, a radical, and Soloston seemed pretty frigging puritanical. Although, he did know Attelus had visited a Chaos-infected world and hadn't executed him or had him on the torture wrack, so...

Attelus also considered asking Faleaseen to unlock his manacles and help him escape, find his vox, report to Enandra and get her to come down. But...then he'd have to fight his way out, and that'd just make them hate him even more, and he didn't want to...hurt them.

At this thought, Attelus felt his face heat up, and he couldn't help but glance at Satiristine.

Suddenly, the door opened, and the Catachan walked in. 'Sister Roliriss,' he said, his voice full of authority, 'You go on a break, now.'

'Why?' said Roliriss.

'Because you've been here for hours now. Satiristine will go after you come back.'

The grey-haired Sister grimaced. 'Yes, fine. I will be back in fifteen minutes, then.'

She looked at Satiristine. 'Do not try anything funny with Mr Pretty Boy here while I am not here.'

Satiristine's face turned bright red, but it seemed more in anger as the grey-haired Sister stormed out and slammed the door behind her.

The Catachan turned to Attelus. 'Alright, kid, we haven't got much time. Tell me where this snake's carcass is.'

Attelus nodded. 'Thanks, man,' he said, then told the Catachan the rough area.

'What exactly are you going to do?' Attelus said once done.

'Going to have a look myself, of course,' said the Catachan. 'I think you had a point about at least checking. I think the boss has got a bad case of tunnel vision, and so has Canoness Rilistil. He wasn't like this until...until.'

'Until after the Exterminatus of Gurtar?' said Attelus. 'I understand. I more than understand. Obviously, you're doing it behind your master's back. You're sure that's a good idea?'

'Yes, I agree,' said Satiristine. 'Should you not ask for permission first?'

The Catachan grinned and pointed a thumb at himself. 'I'm from Catachan, we don't give a gak for authority, and I find it's better to beg for forgiveness than ask for permission.'

He looked at Attelus. 'My name is Goruan, by the way. Try to remember it, kid, as I'm putting my arse on the line for ya.'

'Goruan, yes, I will remember. I'm sorry, I'm terrible with names.'

Goruan nodded and said, 'I'll get back as soon as I can. Wish me luck.'

'Good luck, and thanks again. I owe you, Goruan.'

'Yeah, ya do,' said Goruan as he headed for the door while waving out a hand. 'Yeah, ya do.'

Satiristine watched the Catachan leave, her eyes unsubtly watching his arse along the way, which caused Attelus to feel a sting of jealousy.

'Hey, Sister Satiristine,' he said, causing her to turn back to him. 'I'd like to thank you too.'

She raised a bemused eyebrow. 'Why?'

'Thank you for treating me like a human being, unlike most other people here.'

She pursed her lips and shrugged, her eyes falling to the floor. 'No...problem. My name is Sarral, by the way, Sarral Satiristine.'

Attelus smiled, another person with an alliterative first and last name. 'Well, it's good to meet you, Sarral Satiristine.'

Satiristine smiled, and it took all of Attelus' will not to glance away. 'It's good to meet you too, Attelus Kaltos.'

Dellenger led the way as they crawled through the vent; when he found the grate and checked the coast was clear, he pulled out his miniature las cutter and began to slice through the metal.

'God-Emperor, hurry it up, please,' hissed Torris through the vox. 'I can barely breathe. It's so tight.'

Dellenger didn't reply; he just continued to slice. He understood Torris' discomfort; he was easily the largest of them, and even in a syn skin bodyglove, he'd been struggling. Dellenger could hear ever so often slight grunting and groaning from the ex-arbite during the fifteen or so minutes of crawling in the oxygen ducts. That he hadn't complained until now was quite impressive, actually.

But Dellenger needed to concentrate. He needed to cut the grate in the right place so that it wouldn't make all of the bars fall one by one down into the corridor below. He also had to do it on an angle that made it harder for any Adeptus Arbites walking past to glimpse the glow. Dellenger wondered how Darrance was managing at this stage.

After what seemed like an age but must have been half a minute at the most, Dellenger managed to finish, and he pulled in the grating before it could fall.

Dellenger checked to see if all was clear again, and when he found it was, he slipped out and dropped down the two metres and landed in complete silence, camoleoline cloak wrapped around him. According to Torris' briefing, this part of the corridor was free of surveillance, and Dellenger just hoped that Torris' knowledge was applicable here.

In any second, he expected alarm klaxons to begin to shrill as they had back in the medicae facility. But there was nothing, much to Dellenger's relief. Or they might have a silent alarm transmitted through their vox-links? Dellenger didn't even want to think about that.

While stepping forward to allow Delathasi to drop down afterwards, he looked and found the camera at the end of the corridor; it panned about, but just enough to miss making out the vent.

He barely heard Delathasi land, but Torris' hit the floor with such a crash it hurt Dellenger's teeth. It wouldn't be loud at all, but to Dellenger, it was almost deafening.

'Come on,' whispered Dellenger and started on. They'd climbed the wall around the Arbites precinct with no trouble. Using power climbing suction cups on the smooth adamantium surface and timing climbing over the parapet to the split-second to slip by the two patrolling Arbites. Torris had done very well.

Here it was a different challenge. Dellenger was sure the syn skin bodygloves would protect them from heat detectors and Auspex trippers. But he wasn't so sure from the cameras, especially with Torris in tow. So Dellenger made damn sure to time their advance when the camera swivelled away from them, then stayed beneath it until it moved away again. Torris had predicted they would be unlikely to encounter any patrolling Arbites in their headquarters, as for all their discipline and training, the Adeptus Arbites were arrogant, too reliant on their authority and the fear the people have of their organisation so believed no one would have the skill and audacity to infiltrate.

"Audacity" seemed like a too weaker term "insanity" was more fitting. Or, in their case, "paranoia", not that Dellenger couldn't understand the paranoia of the others due to the horrific misadventure back on Omnartus.

They were halfway down another corridor when the sound of an opening door on the left side turn of the next T junction made them freeze.

'Yeah,' said a voice that was blatantly not a local accent. 'Yes, got you, sir. The men are edgy after the terrorist attack. Many feel we should get involved, but we're not. The militia seems to have it under control.'

The voice came closer, and Dellenger, Delathasi, and Torris slipped into the closest shadow just before the Arbite walked into view. Much to Dellenger's annoyance began to stride towards them. He was a big man, even taller and broader than Torris, and he wore the full armour of the Adeptus Arbites. The only thing visible on his face was his mouth, and below, he had a ridiculously wide cleft chin so wide it seemed to dominate his jaw. Dellenger couldn't help but be reminded of Sergeant Kollath's over-the-top square jaw. The Arbite had his gauntleted finger pressed against the micro-bead in his ear.

'The militia, sir?' said the Arbite as he began to close in. 'They do not technically break the accord. They were founded by the planetary governor, not the Ecclesiarchy...Yes, I know they are practically one and the same on Quoranda. I have been on this planet long enough to know that. But the loophole is still applicable. Our hands are tied.'

Dellenger held his breath as the Arbite started passing right by them. He could only hope the Arbite would be so entrenched in his debate with his superior he'd miss anything being off.

'Send a communication to the Inquisition?' said the Arbite. 'I don't know if that's a good idea, sir...why not? Because, if I may be honest, sir. Because it's the frigging Inquisition, sir.'

Dellenger had to hold back a laugh at that. This little conversation they happened to hear was becoming quite revealing. First, they seemed to be uninvolved with the local conspiracy. Second, they bought the "official" explanation about what happened today; and lastly, they didn't know about Inquisitor Soloston's presence on the world.

Which was interesting.

'Yes, sir,' said the Arbite. 'No problem, sir. Good night and I will make an appointment with Governor Doltris in the morning.'

The Arbite deactivated his micro-bead; by then, he'd walked a good three metres down the corridor and his broad back squarely to them.

'Frig,' said the Arbite to himself before he disappeared behind the next turn. 'God-Emperor, I hate paperwork.'

Dellenger let out a breath in a sigh that seemed like an explosion to his ears that made him blink. 'Let's go,' he whispered through the vox, and then they were finally moving again.



Thanks to Torris' knowledge it didn't take them long to find the main Judge's office. The Arbites' precinct had no signage as they made the Arbites' memorise the layout. This was one of the reasons why they seemed to be the same across the sector. Now they were here, Dellenger just hoped the Judge wasn't there.

They had to travel light, so no one had an auspex or any fancy equipment, so Dellenger had to do it the old-fashioned way, push his ear against the door and try to hear any movement on the other side.

He didn't, and despite the door being made from thick plasteel, Dellenger trusted his senses, so he tapped his micro-bead several times, indicating Torris move forward.

Torris slipped past Dellenger and, being very careful not to show it under his cameleoline cloak, placed his hand against the gene scanner. Dellenger gritted his teeth. Torris had left the Arbites many years ago. Still, he never said how or why, much to Dellenger's annoyance, so there was a good chance that it might cause the alarms to go off, so he watched with bated breath as the display showed the whirling symbols of reading Torris' gene information.

But the lock clicked, and Torris opened the door then they slipped inside.

Delathasi closed it behind them, and they looked around the office. It was about four metres by three. A trio of arched windows were on the far wall, allowing a brilliant view of the starry night sky and the city spreading out below. In the middle stood a desk that had a cogitator bank built into it. It wasn't like the Interrogator's back aboard the Audacious Edge as that was slick and subtle; this one was bulky and bulging with pipes. The machinery rose a good metre and a half on the left side of it that it seemed more like a chair than a desk.

Torris didn't hesitate to approach it; he took out a multi-tool and began opening one of the panels.

Dellenger and Delathasi began to search the room itself, both using pict takers to take picts so to make sure they left things the way they were.

Dellenger opened a drawer in the deck while Delathasi began opening the drawers of a file cabinet. There were three of them. In the top draw were a couple of data slates. Hoping they weren't passcodes, Dellenger activated them one by one to find each one indeed was; much to his lack of surprise, he didn't have time to try to get in, so he didn't bother.

Meanwhile, Torris stood, activated the cogitator and reached to his vox-link. 'Darrance, you in position?'

Dellenger didn't hear the reply, but Torris nodded. 'Good, beginning the data transferral now.'

Torris disappeared from view briefly, then stood again.

'We done, then?' said Dellenger.

The ex-arbite shook his head. 'I've got to tune it to match the channel of the transferrer planted on the roof by Darrance so next time the Judge switches on his cogitator and inputs the passcode, it'll transmit straight to Vex's. He'll also be able to erase the record of my DNA being used to access the door.'

Dellenger nodded, finding he and Delathasi were quite useless in this endeavour. He hoped the Arbites wouldn't notice the re-welded the vent cover.

'I'm surprised your gene code still worked,' said Delathasi.

Torris shrugged as he knelt and began tuning the gadget. 'Who said it was mine?' he said. 'Anyway, this'll take a few minutes.'

'Yeah, well, hurry it up,' said Dellenger as he glanced at the door. 'We've got to exfiltrate soon. Delathasi, go into the corridor and keep a lookout.'

She nodded and left.

'You alright?' said Torris. 'This type of gak is new to you, right?'

'Kind of,' said Dellenger as he began to flip through one of the files.

There was a long pause; the only sound in the room was the clicking of Torris tuning the gadget, his finger pushed against his micro-bead.

'Is what you said back on that Eldar ship true?' said Torris.

Dellenger couldn't remember, their time travelling with the Eldar felt like an age ago now, and most of it was either a whirling blur or the blackness of sleep or unconsciousness.

'I'm not sure what you mean.'

'You don't remember, huh? You said your real name was Adrassil, some great hero from your home world.'

'Y...you were there to hear that?'

Torris paused and raised an eyebrow. 'Yeah, the Commissar had me watch you as you talked. He wanted to know if you were truthful or not.'

Dellenger frowned. 'He did, did he? What did you think, then?'

'That you were telling the truth or believed you were telling the truth,' said Torris plainly.

'So, you think that I could be delusional and believe I was Adrassil?'

'It's a possibility, in a rational mindset, but I've found in this galaxy the definition of "rational" is an inconsistent one at best.'

'Hmm, if you think I'm so delusional, what's the point of asking me the question, Torris? If I say "yes", you'll just think I'm crazy. If I say "no", you are good enough to see I'm probably lying. Thus I'm still delusional. You've put me in a no-win situation here.'

'Good point. Alright, how about we assume you aren't delusional, then is it true, then?'

'Yes.'

'So, did you happen to live for all of those years? Or were you in a state of hibernation for all that time?'

'I lived it, all of it.'

That made Torris' attention snap to him, and he whistled. 'Oh gak, and what was that like?'

'Utter gak, Torris.'

'I frigging bet. So, you like one of those Perpetuals? Come back from the dead?'

'No. Or at least I'm pretty sure I'm not. My master did some experiments on me and his other agents. He made me eternally youthful somehow, but not immortal. All of my...colleagues, when they died, they...they stayed dead. I'm the only one left.'

'And your master?'

'Died a long, long time ago, back when my friend Royd was alive. He sacrificed himself to save us. He was a good man.'

'And not just eternally youthful. I saw you fighting that Plague Marine.'

'"Fighting" is too stronger a word, but yes, there were many like us, Royd included, and we performed some great inhuman feats that've been blown out of proportion during the centuries as it became myth.'

'I frigging bet I'm surprised Attelus didn't come to you begging to know what you know. I'm guessing he's been too busy or in isolation to manage it yet. He'd be so happy to learn about that stuff from someone who's seen it, lived it.'

Dellenger smiled. 'Yes, I think the young boy more than deserves that, after all the horrible things he's been through. So, you believe me now?'

Torris pursed his lips and shrugged. 'Don't know what to believe any more, mate.'

He reached to his micro-bead. 'You got it, Darrance? Good. Meet you back at headquarters.'

Torris looked at Dellenger. 'Let's get the frig out of here.'



Despite the aching and pain in his legs, Attelus fell asleep, and he became plunged back into the nightmares yet again. First, he dreamed he was back in that tower on Sarkeath, being controlled by the daemonic sword's will, slaughtering his friends. He'd try with all his will to stop himself from slashing and stabbing through them like they weren't there. It wasn't just the people he'd killed, Jelket, Helma, Verenth and the Imperial Guardsmen and women who'd sacrificed so much and fought so hard to reach the tower only to be murdered at his hand. Them and the imperial citizens didn't deserve at all such a fate. But he murdered Tathe, Dellenger, Delathasi, Torris, Hayden, Halsin, everyone and each time they were decapitated, disembowelled, impaled, much to Attelus' shame; he felt a rush of joy and pride with each time. He didn't know whether this was him or the blade itself, but it didn't matter either way. He hated it, and he hated himself.

The last two people he slayed were Karmen and Adelana. Karmen was exhausted, her energy drained; she couldn't even stand as he took her head off with a casual off-hand blow. As if all the years they'd worked together and everything they'd been through meant nothing.

Then was Adelana; she was too tired to fight back. As in the real situation, she sat and had her back against the parapet. She saw him coming, despite his inhuman speed, and he stopped before her, allowing Adelana to truly appreciate him before he killed her. She didn't beg or anything, just stared at him, her beautiful sea-blue eyes wide and watering with what seemed to be...pity. Pity and sadness of such potency made Attelus' breath lodge in his throat. It didn't stop him from slashing down his sword, so it slowly, horribly cleaved through her skull, then her torso. The vile, horrid act made him want to shriek, made him want to vomit. But he could do none of those things. He was a prisoner inside his own body. Forever forced to watch and do nothing as the Blade of Kalncerak would perform horrid acts with the limbs that were once his. How he'd managed to overcome its control back on Sarkeath was beyond him. He fought and fought with all of his will, everything. It was even harder than trying to regain control of himself while he watched Karmen tear her own face apart in a psychotic haze back on Omnartus.

Attelus was suddenly whisked away from that scene of dozens of slaughtered, sliced-through corpses and the all too familiar stench of death. Of the tang of blood intertwined with gak and other body fluids. Then he stood in a boulevard, dozens of metres wide. Above him, the roiling black clouds of pollution covered the sky just as they had on Omnartus. The buildings that surrounded the boulevard weren't just from Omnartus but a mish-mash of many familiar buildings from his past. His childhood home from when he lived in the country in northern Velrosia viewed from the backyard; only a single story tall, it was made of wooden panels painted grey and a trench-like path was dug around it; the bathroom stuck out further from the house, about three metres and expanding on his left about ten metres more where his and his father's bedrooms were contained. Despite the clouds above Attelus' house became eclipsed by a huge shadow, and that shadow was cast by Taryst's tower over five hundred stories tall, it rose far above the clouds just as it did on Omnartus. But still, Attelus could see the top of it somehow. Next to that was the hab block he'd stayed in Omnartus, a rectangle that was fifty stories tall and made from reinforced rockcrete. Then there was the compound Brutis Bones had stayed in the under hive of Omnartus, a three-story rockcrete square. It even had the windows boarded up with flak board.

Then there was the main administratum building on Omnartus, another huge seventy-story building of adamantium that was made of three towers, both shaped like arrows, with the taller one being in the middle. Then was his and his mother's home in Varander; it too was built with wooden boards painted green but the paint of flacking; it was a rectangle with a pointed, panelled roof made of brown ceramic tiles. The fence that normally covered this side of the backyard wasn't there, so Attelus could see the metal drying line and the tree.

The last time he'd seen that house, it was in utter ruins, flattened from the Chaos orbital bombardment along with all the other buildings around it. Attelus flinched as the guilt shuddered through his frame. He didn't even try to dig into the rumble to try to find his mum; he'd just turned and run. Overwhelmed by his grief and the terror, the utter terror at the prospect of being caught in another bombardment. If he'd just knuckled down a dug, if she was somehow still alive, maybe he could've saved her. Tears welled in his eyes, and he pushed his sleeve against his face to try to stop them. His shoulders shuddered, but he sniffed and shook them away.

More buildings seemed to grow into view; one was his pre-scholarium education centre which he barely went to. Then was his first classroom when he began proper scholarium. Then the hall where they would have assembly meetings and play sports. All around him, building after building exploded from the rockcrete, some more familiar than the others. One was a barn his friend's dad from northern Velrosia owned. Another was a mansion his other friend's rich family lived in, the local doctor of Attelus' old town. Then there was the Sister's convent.

The last building to come out was the tower of Sarkeath, and like his first vision, it erupted into flames. The flames were so bright they almost blinded him, and the heat hit him like a punch.

Attelus leapt back, covering his gaze and crying out. The heat then died away, and it allowed him to look again. The city that was around him was made up of hundreds of buildings of dozens of different makes and heights from almost all of the worlds he'd lived on and visited over the years. Some he'd seen in a glance, some treasured homes and...

Then the smog that coated the sky suddenly opened. Swirling into nothingness and revealing the starry night sky. Attelus swallowed, and he clenched his teeth, and then his stomach dropped as the bright bombs began to fall. First dozens, then hundreds, then came more, so many that, like the smog, they covered the sky like pollution but in a constant golden blanket.

The Sarkeath Tower was the first to become nothingness. More and more of the bombs landed, and the sporadic shaking quickly became a constant rumbling like an earthquake.

The explosions shook him to his marrow, causing him such agony he couldn't breathe and couldn't help but reel and collapse to his knees. The explosions consumed the buildings, which were instantly reduced into shards of rockcrete and slivers of wood. Both were vaporised. Attelus screamed as the heat began to cook him.

The Omnartisian Administratum tower started to collapse, its adamantium walls cracking and breaking into chunks that rained out in every direction. Those chunks fell amongst the smaller buildings and into the lower stories of taller buildings. Crashing into them and opening holes that Attelus swore seemed to be in the shape of human silhouettes. His mother's house collapsed beneath a piece of adamantium so large it seemed like a boulder. Wooden shrapnel flew for Attelus. Attelus barely managed to turn away, covering his head with his sleeve so it embedded in his flak jacket instead of his face.

The explosions continued to destroy everything, and soon Attelus found he couldn't keep even keep kneeling any more. He hit the ground, smashing onto his side so hard his pain blasted into his shoulder so bad he worried it could've become dislocated. He still gazed up to see the wall of light approaching him. Vaporising anything that got caught in it. Taryst's tower was engulfed in only a few seconds. Then his scholarium class, then his childhood home. The was no rhyme or reason why the buildings would be consumed; those that seemed closer to him were vaporised before those that were further away and vice versa.

The wall came its way for Attelus, and he couldn't even scream before it consumed him.

Next, he knew he was sitting in his father's vehicle as it drove on a familiar road that weaved around a familiar coastline. On the left lay the wide river that flowed through Velrosia's centre, the Vandeeran River, its deep blue water shimmering in the sunlight. At places such as this, the river widened out so far it could be seen as a sea. Koliaha trees curled out from the bank, sloping down to the water, and swayed in the breeze, their red flowers blossoming for the summer. On Attelus' right, the bank climbed up to a tree-covered hill. Attelus watched the river whirl by, hypnotised by its beauty, he took it for granted as a child, all of the hundreds of times they would drive this road, but now after everything he'd been through, he could truly appreciate it, he found he missed it.

Then a shiver hit him as he realised who would be in the driver's seat. He didn't dare turn; he didn't want to see his father again; he didn't want to remember the memories of the time he spent with his father. The hours upon hours of him teaching Attelus how to fight and how to survive, things the young Attelus had believed were taught out of love and caring, but it was just so Attelus could survive so he would become a pawn in Etuarq's plans. That was the whole reason Attelus was born, to be manipulated for some cosmic plan of their enemy. A plan that would've succeeded if it wasn't for the intervention of Kalakor.

Attelus kept his attention plastered on the coast, hoping it'd pass by and allow him to move on to something else, but the coast just seemed to weave on and weave on and on.

He knew Serghar Kaltos was there, driving as he always had; Attelus could sense him. But Serghar said nothing; the silence inside the vehicle was stifling. It seemed to whittle away the comfort and awe he'd felt in watching that river go by. Attelus knew he had to look; something deep in his subconsciousness seemed to scream that if he didn't, this would never end.

Attelus gritted his teeth and fought his bashing heart, and he finally managed to turn. Serghar Kaltos did indeed sit in the driver's seat. He was beyond relaxed, with one hand on the wheel manoeuvring the car around the coast with unbelievable ease. Serghar Kaltos had always been a good driver; he was always good at everything. Serghar had the same brown-coloured hair as Attelus, but it was close-cropped short.

His father seemed to catch Attelus watching him in the corner of his eye, and he turn to him, and Serghar turned and smiled.

It made Attelus freeze as he found himself curled up on the sand; sudden blazing agony erupted from his guts, agony that made him writhe and eclipsed his every inch. The agony that stemmed from the blade impaled through his guts. Attelus wanted to scream, but it came out of his gaping lips in silence.

Then Attelus was sitting back in that car, gasping, the agony ebbing flowing away. Attelus' limbs kicked out, and he hyperventilated like never before as he squirmed in his seat.

'Son?' said Serghar, and it seemed like the lifeline that allowed Attelus to regain control of himself, and he looked back to his father.

Serghar still smiled at him, but it seemed kind, genuinely kind, and he reached out...

Then Attelus was back on the blood sands, the blade back in his guts. The agony exploded back, and he screamed silently. Serghar's hand held the hilt, and then he pulled it from Attelus' stomach, sawing it out as he did back on Sarkeath.

Attelus curled and gasped, and his consciousness began to ebb away into blackness. He could hear Adelana's voice, he couldn't make out the words, but the tone was begging, pleading and-

He was unprepared for the boot as it crashed against the gaping wound in his gut. A new, somehow even worse, agony speared through Attelus' every inch. He wanted more than anything in the galaxy to curl up, to protect his stomach, but he couldn't breathe, let alone move.

Serghar's boot then smashed into the wound again and again and again. All the while, Attelus' mind's eye saw the sadistic wide smile that was on his father's face as he rained kick after kick into his horrible wound.

A smile that was somehow far more genuine than the one he'd given Attelus in the vehicle.

And...

With a cry, Attelus awoke sweat soaked his face, plastering his fringe against his face.

Gasping, Attelus went to grab his guts to make sure it no longer had that gaping hole in it, but he couldn't move; it took him a second to remember his arms were still held over his head. He looked down, and the utterly irrational relief to find he was fine caused him to shudder out a sigh, and he managed to finally gain control of his breathing.

'Had a nightmare?' said a vox-enhanced voice, and Attelus looked at its source.

Two Sisters watched him through the bars; both had helmets on, their red lenses glowing, boring into him. One held a bolter; the other one had a frigging flamer; it seemed they'd changed his guard while he was asleep. A pang of regret hit him as he wished Satiristine was still here.

'Y-yeah,' he stammered. 'But it's always a nightmare, both in my waking and in my sleeping hours. It's always the damned same.'

Neither Sister said anything, they just watched him, and Attelus found he missed Satiristine even more, and the grey-haired Sister too. At least she would say something, even if she'd call him a "swine".

Attelus sighed and hung his head. 'Life is gak, and then you die,' he said, but in his case, death was only temporary. He'd thought Enandra's statement of "no one has suffered more than him" couldn't be true, not literally, not in this horrid, grim dark universe; there had to be someone, somewhere, worse off than him, surely. But, in all honesty, perhaps it wasn't by too wider a margin.

'How long have I been asleep for?' he said.

'I do not think we should tell you that,' said the Sister on his left.

'Of course, you think that,' said Attelus, then he grinned at them. 'May I ask who my new friends are?'

'No,' said the Sister on the right. 'And we refuse the "friendship" of scum like you.'

Attelus smiled; well, looks like I've been demoted from "swine" to "scum" now, he thought.

'What are you smiling about?' said the left-side Sister.

'I'm just trying to take the good with the bad,' said Attelus, a sentence which made the Sisters glance at each other, which brought him such a disproportionate amount of joy it made him blink.

The left-side Sister stepped forwards and seemed to be about to say something, but the door opening interrupted her, and the Catachan stepped in and much to Attelus' joy, he was followed by Satiristine.

'You two, get out now,' he said in such a resounding, commanding tone it made Attelus' breath lodge in his throat, making both Sisters flinch, and they left the room like murderers running from their handiwork. The smile Satiristine made when she slammed the door shut behind them made Attelus snort.

'I found the snake,' said the Catachan; as he began to pace back and forth, he breathed through his nose so loudly it seemed to hurt Attelus' very eardrums. Attelus wanted to ask how the Catachan managed to get there and back so fast, how he'd done it without the knowledge of Soloston and how he'd left and come back without being spotted by the Sisters patrolling the walls. But Attelus already knew the Catachan wouldn't divulge that information, but he also seemed to be in a mood not to brook those questions.

'...And?'

'And I ain't an expert on warp gak, not like my master, but I know enough to know enough about wildlife to know that creature ain't infected with anything natural.'

Attelus nodded and gave Satiristine a glance; she met it and pouted her full lips in what might've been bemusement.

'So,' said Attelus. 'Thanks for having a look for me, but what do we do now?'

The Catachan didn't answer; he kept on pacing back and forth, his body shaking in what seemed like rage. 'I can't believe it. I can't frakin' believe it. How could we've missed it so completely?'

Attelus went to shrug but yet again found he couldn't. He wanted to say it didn't help; they'd just locked themselves up here and didn't bother to delve into the plague further, that couldn't have helped, but the Catachan's intensity was frigging, freaking him out.

The Catachan stopped his pacing and turned to Attelus with wide eyes that shone with anger, but Attelus knew that anger wasn't at him but at himself and his people.

'"What are we to do now?" said the Catachan, then he looked at Satiristine. 'Let this little gak-head free, please, girl.'

That made Satiristine's eyes widen, and she hesitated.

'Do it now,' he growled.

She nodded and, hesitantly, opened Attelus' cell and began to unlock the chain holding up Attelus' manacles with a ring of keys.

'Keep the manacles on him,' said the Catachan.

'W-why are you setting me free?'

'Because it'll show Soloston how serious things are when I bring ya up to meet him with me,' said the Catachan, and he sighed. 'I can't believe this.'

Satiristine unlocked the chain, slid it out from beneath the cuffs and helped Attelus to his feet, holding his hand with a gauntleted hand that was surprisingly soft and careful grasp.

Instantly, when on his feet, Attelus' shaking legs almost gave out from beneath him. Still, Satiristine prevented him from falling on his face by grabbing him by the shoulder, again with such coordination he barely felt a thing.

'Thank you,' said Attelus, smiling.

'Not a problem,' she said, smiling back, and their eyes met again.

'Alright, you two,' said the Catachan. 'We've used up enough time already, Emperor, damn it. By the frigging way, Attelus Kaltos. My name is Goruan, Goruan, make sure to frigging remember it like you'd remember Satiristine's here because I'm really puttin' my head in the choppin' block here. Ya got that?'

'Yes,' said Attelus. 'I will make sure. Sorry, I forgot your name, Goruan. I owe you that much, the biggest being you didn't shoot me in the back when you had the chance.'

'Good!' said Goruan. 'Now let's get goin'! Now!'



As Attelus, Satiristine, and Goruan walked through the convent, to say the least, they drew the attention of the Sisters of Battle and everyone else around. Despite this, Attelus couldn't help but smile; it felt good to finally be out of that cell, even if his wrists were still bound and every inch of his legs and thighs ached like complete bastards.

In silence, they ascended the levels; it was on the fourth floor that they found Soloston, the Canoness and the Throne Agent in elaborate power armour, along with another squad of Sisters of Battle waiting for them.

'What in the God-Emperor's name are you doing, Goruan?' snarled Soloston with such power it made Attelus flinch. He didn't expect such strength of voice from such a small, lightly built creature, even if he was an Inquisitor.

Goruan didn't even blink. 'I'm gonna try talk sense into ya.'

'Sense? Sense?' said Soloston. 'I have more than enough sense for the both of us, Goruan. You should know that.'

'Not in this case, sorry, boss,' said Goruan, shaking his head. 'Not since what happened on Gurtar, ya haven't.'

Soloston sneered; it was an ugly expression. 'So you go behind my back, then? Betray me? What did this little fool tell you that drove you into this foolishness?'

'The truth, boss,' said Goruan. 'The truth which I looked into, and it ain't good.'

'What? Are you speaking about that Bark Snake?' said the Canoness. 'That is ridiculous-'

'No, it ain't mamzel,' said Goruan. 'I saw it myself. Gunk, like that of the Plague god, had burst from it and soaked everything around it in a big radius. Gunk that'd mutated those trees into rotting, bulging, ugly things. The pustules on it a lot of them were shaped together into the mark of the Plague god. It's here, and it's infected the world, so this plague's gotta be-'

'I already said, Goruan,' said Soloston as if he was talking down to a child, which surprised Attelus with how much that angered him. Goruan seemed like an intelligent, good, loyal man who didn't deserve to be subjected to such condescension. 'I tested the sickness, and it had no sign of warp influence-'

'Yes, but what if this plague was made to somehow trick those tests?' said Attelus. 'If it is a product of a god, who knows what it could do? And you admitted it yourself. You are getting the patients from the local government. What if they're corrupted and sent you the people who weren't as sick as the others? You couldn't know because you haven't left the convent for ages.'

'Shut it, boy!' bellowed the Throne Agent in power armour. 'Your words have no meaning in this Holy shrine.'

'Indeed,' snapped the Canoness, who glared at Satiristine. 'And Goruan is not the only betrayer here! How dare you, Satiristine! How dare you! I am tempted to place you into the Repentia for this!'

Satiristine just puffed out her cheeks and said nothing, which was one of the cutest things Attelus had ever seen.

'Boss,' sighed Goruan. 'I've been workin' under ya for years now. Ya know me good enough that I don't do nothin' for no good reason. That my instincts are usually on point, it's how I survived back on Catachan for so long, and if I think this boy's gotta point, he's likely gotta point. I saw that snake, and my eyes don't lie. So ya gotta take what this boy says more seriously.'

Soloston didn't reply his eyes were hidden behind his red glasses, but Attelus felt the Inquisitor was looking back and forth between Attelus and Goruan. Silence hung in the air for a good while before Soloston sighed.

'God-Emperor damn you, Goruan. How dare you undermine my authority,' said Soloston.

Goruan grinned. 'It's what us Catachans do, boss. It's also one of the reasons ya hired me. Ya said it years back "Goruan, if you ever think I'm going to stray, you have to make sure you do what you can to stop me from going over the edge", or somethin' like that. I can't remember that gak verbatim.'

'Yes, I do remember saying that.'

Another pause drifted into the air. Attelus' said nothing as the Canoness began to glance from Goruan to Soloston, back and forth, back and forth.

Eventually, Soloston turned his gaze to Attelus. 'Your vox-link is in my quarters. You may speak to your master there.'

That made the Canoness' jaw drop. 'I don't...understand.'

'No,' said Soloston. 'I don't either. But Goruan is correct. His instinct is usually correct. I have to give the boy a chance, and maybe we can learn about what's happening out there from this Inquisitor Enandra.'

The Canoness frowned and treated Attelus with a withering glare. 'This boy is a snake. He cannot be trusted.'

'Maybe,' said Soloston. 'But I'm sorry, Canoness. I think it is about time we try to be more active from henceforth.'

Soloston turned back to Attelus. 'You, Goruan and Sister Satiristine accompany Dollok and I. If this happens to be a ruse if you have tricked us somehow, young man. I swear upon the God-Emperor's soul you will come to learn just how far my wrath can extend.'

Karmen awoke, and her gaze found the ceiling above her that was encased in darkness. The light hung only about a metre and a half above her bed. She sighed and rolled over in her bed to view the rest of the mattress of her queen-sized bed as empty as it was before.

She sighed and sat up, allowing the mouldy sheets to slip off her and her black bodyglove. Karmen usually liked to sleep naked, but in these gakky beds, she didn't dare, especially with the sickness infecting the city.

Karmen was beginning to regret her earlier treatment of Attelus; she'd finally had him; it was...great to finally be with the man she'd harboured such strong feelings for so long. But now she didn't, and Attelus had only done what he believed was right. And they'd needed to know Kalakor's history more than they needed to learn about the "Imperial Truth" She still had no idea what that was despite trying to research the term on the cogitators and the Librarium during their travelling in The Audacious Edge. She even had to put up with interacting with little miss-perfect Adelana, although she made damn sure not to tell them exactly what she was looking for.

She frowned and checked her wrist chron on her bedside table; it was 2 am, and it wasn't quite time for Enandra to update them of Attelus' status. Karmen just hoped he was okay. She looked at the empty bed again; she'd considered re-igniting her relationship with Arlathan but decided against it. If Attelus was still interested when he returned, she felt it could seem like cheating if she got with Arlathan if this turned out to be a break.

Also, having sex in these beds would be damned disgusting, to say the least.

The micro-bead on the table next to her chron piped. She took it and checked the calling code to find it was...

Speak of the devil; she thought and accepted it.

'Arlathan?'

'Enandra's called. She wishes to speak with you,' he said.

'Okay, fine,' Karmen sighed and climbed out of bed. 'I will be there in a minute.'



Karmen entered the lounge with a newly made cup of caffeine. Arlathan stood over Vex, gazing into the glowing cogitator monitor.

'You're here,' said Arlathan. 'Vex has got the two-way visual calls up and untraceable.'

Karmen nodded, having already guessed that and walked around to face it. Enandra was on her command throne and nodded to Karmen.

'Sorry to wake you up, Karmen,' she said.

Karmen shrugged. 'I had woken up just before that anyway. You heard from Attelus then?'

'I did,' said Enandra. 'He's fine now, got himself captured by Sisters and a member of Soloton's warband, but he managed to work his magic and convince them to free him, as I thought he would, and they called me. I thought you would like to know.'

Karmen smiled. That was Attelus; he really had a way with words. 'Good to hear. How did he manage that?'

'He promised Soloston that I would come down the convent and speak to him in person, so I am going down very soon. Soloston will only tell us of what happened on Gurtar if I speak to him myself. I have also yet to receive any word of backup coming. I am just hoping that we aren't subjected to the presence of a regiment of Scintillan Fusiliers, damned pompous aristocrats.'

Karmen stopped herself frowning, Enandra yet again forgetting Karmen was an aristocrat, a "blue blood" as Estella Erith; Karmen didn't know why she was taking exception to it now, the positions of their former lives didn't matter any more, and Karmen knew well how infamously up themselves the Scintillan regiments were.

'I am bringing Selva down with me,' said Enandra. 'As well as Relcreth, but I want you to make sure to be ready, Karmen. Ready to go incorporeal the second you get a communication from me.'

Karmen and Arlathan exchanged glances. 'Yes, of course, mamzel,' said Karmen. 'You suspect this Soloston could be an agent for the enemy or something?'

'It's likely,' said Enandra, and she pursed her lips and shrugged. 'But it's more just because of a powerful gut feeling, Karmen. Also, if the enemy makes their move, it'll likely involve an all-out assault of the convent.'

Arlathan smiled. 'Which enemy, might I ask, Inquisitor?'

Enandra smiled back. 'All of them naturally, Interrogator. Good luck, all of you, over and gone.'

Then she cut the link.

Karmen looked at Vex. 'The Judge accessed his cogitator yet?'

'Nah, uh,' said Vex. 'According to Torris, the Judge won't begin his next shift until 5 am.'

'What are we going to do next?' said Karmen, looking to Arlathan. 'We still need to infiltrate the main governmental building.'

'Yes, I'm aware of that, Karmen. But I think I've got an idea.'

Karmen raised her eyebrows. 'And what's that?'

Arlathan grinned. 'You remember that stealth drop ship we inherited from Inquisitor Draven...?'



While fighting to keep his eyes open, Attelus stood on the landing pad as he watched Enandra's personal Guncutter descend. Much to his annoyance, they'd kept his manacles on as much as he understood their reasoning. Goruan stood on Attelus' left, and the Throne Agent in overly elaborate power armour on Attelus' right. The armoured man hadn't told Attelus his name yet, but Attelus didn't give a frig, in all honesty. A metre behind Attelus was a ten-woman squad of Sisters of Battle. The rising dawn sun was peeking over the forest-covered horizon far below.

Soloston, the Canoness and the Palatine waited a couple of metres to Attelus' left, their eyes plastered on the landing guncutter, and another ten-woman squad of the Sisters surrounded them.

All the Sisters had their helmets on, so Attelus couldn't help but wonder if any were Satiristine. After escorting him to the Inquisitor's quarters, now hours ago, Satiristine had been dismissed; Attelus hoped she hadn't been punished too severely for helping him.

The legs of the Guncutter extended from the belly, and it finally touched down, then the ramp began to lower slowly. Attelus wondered if the ramps on ships were made to be so slow to seem "intimidating" or something. It just bored him, in all honesty.

Finally, the frigging ramp landed on the rockcrete, and the familiar clanging of armoured boots echoed from its depths.

Enandra, resplendent in her power armour, led her witch hunter's hat on her head; much to Attelus' surprise, Hadrel walked on her left flank, Selva on her right. And following them were two ten-man squads of Stormtroopers that fanned out in perfect discipline when they stepped onto the rockrete. Lurking in the darkness of the guncutter was the blank, Relcreth.

'Well, well, you must be Inquisitor Jelcine Enandra,' said Soloston. 'It is good to finally meet you. I have been told so much about you.'

'Some of it good, I hope,' said Enandra, grinning her charming grin and seeming to ignore the irony in Soloton's tone. 'You are Inquisitor Soloston, I presume.'

'Oh, yes, and yes,' said Soloston. 'Your failed little spy here sang your praises to such an extent he made you out to be the second coming of Sanguinius himself!'

Enandra pursed her lips and stole a glance at Attelus, to which Attelus replied with a rabid shaking of his head.

'I do hope not,' said Enandra. 'I do not like my people kissing my proverbial, but admittedly nice, rectum. You, by contrast, I haven't learned much about.'

'Indeed, but I did not need to have this boy here tell me anything about you for me to learn much about you.'

'Oh? What did you learn about me?'

'You are mistrustful of, at the very least, the Ecclesiarchy, despite how they are the most Holy of all organisations dedicated to the God-Emperor's service. Mistrustful enough to send in this little fool to spy on Holy ground.'

Enandra didn't bother to hide her rolling eyes. 'I am mistrustful of all organisations dedicated to the Emperor, even those some would deem the most holy. That includes the Inquisition itself, as you should be too, as an Inquisitor.'

Attelus couldn't help but smile, and Soloston seemed to bristle ever so slightly. Despite how amusing this was, this was, foremost, now a diplomatic mission and such bluntness wasn't a good idea.

'I...understand,' said Soloston. 'But you cannot deny that sending in this little fool in this way might cause a level of animosity?'

Enandra pouted. 'Yes and no, Soloston. Yes in, that is something I would expect from the Sisters of Battle. An Inquisitor might appreciate the nuance of such a move. But it largely depends on the Inquisitor.'

'And I am not one of those Inquisitors,' said Soloston. 'You are lucky I have not executed this boy already. I have been tempted, I can say.'

'I am sure,' said Enandra. 'Especially after he spilled his guts, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos has a bad habit of doing that.'

'I dunno,' said Goruan. 'He kept back just enough to make himself a bit of a mystery, mamzel.'

'Good to hear,' said Enandra.

'I'd also say you can't be too hard on the boy for gettin' caught, mamzel Inquisitor,' said Goruan, and he looked at the Canoness. 'Just like you shouldn't be too hard on the young lady Satiristine. The boy was good at his sneakin'. He was just outdone by someone better. He's still got a lot to learn.'

'Indeed,' said Enandra, grinning. 'And with all due respect, when I was informed it was you who found him, I knew that was the case.'

Goruan sniffed and nodded.

Enandra turned back to Soloston, her face was suddenly hard, and everything became all business.

'Okay,' she said. 'Let's go talk this over in private somewhere better.'



They entered what the convent might've thought was the guest room. It was large, at least fifteen by seven metres. Laid out in the middle were three long padded couches and two seats set around a long as frig caffeine table. Three ancient cabinets lined the left, right, and the wall facing Attelus. Soloston opened one and began taking out bottles of amasec and other alcohols and glasses. The room had no windows; the stone walls rose a good five metres high and loomed over Attelus, making the place feel more like a prison than the actual dungeon beneath the convent. Another hardwood door was on the right-hand wall, which Attelus guessed led to a bathroom.

Enandra sat on one of the seats, and Attelus took a seat on the couch next to her, as did Selva and Hadrel, respectively. Attelus wanted to talk to Enandra, ask her what was happening with Karmen and the others and even ask how Adelana was coping. But he didn't dare.

Five Stormtroopers and five Sisters stood around. The Stormtroopers behind Attelus, Enandra and the others, the Sisters on the other side and Attelus could help but wonder if it came to push and shove, which would win? The Stormtrooper's Hellguns would slice through the Sister's power armour like parchment, but the bolters would also be effective against the Stormtrooper's carapace armour. The explosive rounds of the bolters would be much more likely to cause an instant kill shot than the small burn-through of a hell shot. The Sisters could fire from the hip at this close range and be almost as effective as a Stormtrooper firing down his sight. So as much as he hated to admit it, the Sisters of Battle had the advantage over the Stormtroopers.

Goruan sat on another couch as well as the Canoness and the Palantine, while the power-armoured Throne Agent lingered at the entranceway. Soloston placed the saucer of drinks and glasses in front of them, indicated to them to "help yourselves" with a wave, and then took the seat next to Enandra.

Much to Attelus' surprise, the Canoness poured herself a drink of amasec and slugged it back in one go. Goruan then made himself a drink, too but sipped it more conservatively.

'Now,' said Enandra as Hadrel made himself a drink and sipped. 'Let us not "beat around the bush", as the Velrosians would say, and get this done. You know what we need to know, so let's just get started on that.'

Soloston frowned. 'For someone who apparently values subtlety, you can be quite blunt, Inquisitor Enandra.'

Enandra shrugged and pursed her lips. 'I do, Inquisitor Soloston, but after so much crap, I am not in the mood for frigging around, in all honesty.'

As she said, "In all honesty," Enandra shared a glance with Attelus and a slight smile.

Soloston licked under his lips, and Goruan laughed as he began to pour himself another drink. 'I more than understand that sentiment! Frag, I'm likin' her already.'

This elicited a glare from the Canoness. 'After your earlier foolishness, do not think it is getting that information will be so easy for you,' she said.

Enandra sighed. 'I hope this woman is not speaking on your behalf in this regard.'

'I am afraid that Canoness Rilisti is, indeed, speaking on my behalf in this regard,' said Soloston, but his small smile indicated he was anything but afraid.

Enandra clenched her jaw and shook her head. 'You do know what is at stake here.'

'I do, or at least what you and your boy claims are at stake.'

'You said you would share the information on Gurtar if I came down to speak to you,' sighed Enandra.

'I did, but I never claimed that was the only pre-requisite,' said Soloston.

'Ah, good loophole there,' said Hadrel.

'Indeed,' said Soloston. 'Something you should have seen coming, Inquisitor.'

'Hmm, maybe,' said Enandra, but she seemed undeterred. 'So what else do you want? Me to get on my knees and beg your forgiveness. I'm sorry! I'm so very sorry about everything! Please do forgive my such an egregious act of having my Agent infiltrate this place! Please! Please forgive me. I am so very, very sorry!'

Silence hung in the room, and Attelus had to hold himself back from laughing, but in the corner of his eye, he saw Selva wasn't bothering; ah, the advantage of being mute.

'I see you and this young man have much in common,' said Soloston. 'You are both mentally deficient.'

'Now, now,' said Enandra, laughing. 'There are some harsh words there, Inquisitor. Not very diplomatic of you. But now you mention it, Attelus and I do have similarities, I guess. Like minds and all that stuff. So, now you have established your Inquisitorial dominance, what do you want me to do?'

Soloston shrugged. 'My apologies, diplomacy is not my strong suit in spite of my decades of trying to master it. I am a scholar at my core, and basic human interaction is hard for me, let alone diplomacy.'

'I understand,' said Enandra. 'And I suppose I apologise for my action of having Attelus infiltrate this place.'

'You are not sorry about that,' said the Canoness. 'I know women like you. You are just sorry you were caught.'

Silence once again hung in the air like the sword of Damocles over the neck of a noble from damned Malfi. All attention was fixed on the Canoness, everyone but Attelus who watched Enandra, whose jaw twitched so much Attelus couldn't help but imagine her drawing her plasma pistol and putting a blast through the Canoness' face.

'May haps,' said Soloston. 'But an apology is still an apology, but I did not want or need an apology in exchange for my knowledge. I want to be informed on everything your people have discovered in your investigation of Quoranda. Is there more than a strange dead apex predator in the middle of nowhere?'

'Oh yes,' said Enandra. 'And you will not like it. I guarantee, Soloston.'

Enandra let her words hang in the air.

'What is it?' blurted one of the Sisters after a good half a minute, her voice barking from her helm's grill made Attelus flinch.

The smile drained away from Inquisitor Enandra's face as she said, 'Well, just to get started. My agents have found the presence of the horrid Traitor Marines of the Death Guard are on this world.'

Now that made the jaws drop of everyone in the room whom Attelus could see the faces of, anyway. Even Soloton's, and Attelus' as well.

'I need you to tell me everything,' said Soloston. 'Tell me everything now!'

Chewing on her protein bar and rubbing her tired hazed eyes, Karmen stepped into the lounge. Vex, as always, sat at his cogitator as Arlathan roamed around, eating from a liquid food pouch. They'd brought the food down with them, weeks and weeks worth, as they couldn't afford to risk buying food from local stores or anything for fear of eyewitnesses, a paper trail, etcetera, etcetera.

Sitting on another couch were Dellenger and Torris. Torris seemed to be teaching Dellenger the intricacies of Adeptus Arbites' procedure. Karmen smiled and swaggered on by trying to draw the gaze of Dellenger's beautiful blue eyes, but he seemed intent on staring down at his toes as he nodded at Torris' words.

'You all right, Karmen?' said Torris, causing her to pause and turn to him. Torris was smirking at her knowingly.

'I'm fine, Marcel, don't you worry your fuzzy head about me.'

Torris shrugged. 'Well, when a daemon could burst out of your brain and slaughter us, it makes me worry a little.'

'That's not going to happen, Marcel.'

'That's some famous last words there, Karmen,' he said.

'There was a Sanctioned Psyker that happened to, back on Rolsteria more than a decade back,' said Dellenger. 'The daemon tore through a few dozen troopers before it got taken down by three flame troopers burning it to gak and back.'

Karmen couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at his almost wistful tone and looked at Dellenger. Their eyes met, and she felt lost in them instantly. Despite this, she couldn't help but wonder, after decades of service in the Imperial Guard, why in hell did he look so youthful?

'Thank you for that enlightening story there, Dellenger,' she said, then she tore her eyes away and approached Vex and Arlathan.

'Found anything frigged up dark evil, heretical secret the data yet, Vexxy-boy.'

'Please do not call me that,' said Vex. 'And no. So far, I'd say they are loyal, just too faithful in the local administrative organisations. They haven't even sent anyone to look into the quarantine buildings yet.'

Karmen sighed. 'Of course, they haven't. They deem it's still a local issue, then?'

She looked at Arlathan. 'They should've called in the Inquisition, at the least.'

'We overheard one of them talking over that with the Judge during our infiltration,' said Dellenger, making Karmen turn to him, but he had his eyes on the floor again. 'Didn't we, Torris?'

'Yeah,' said Torris. 'Seems they don't like us much.'

'Can't say I blame them,' muttered Dellenger.

'Did you get this Arbitrator's name perchance?' said Arlathan.

'Nah,' said Torris. 'What? You thinking he could be an undercover enemy there to actively discourage them from informing us?'

Arlathan grinned and pointed at Torris. 'Exactly!'

'That'd be one hell of a coincidence,' said Dellenger. 'The double agent just so happened to be the one to walk past us as we were there.'

For a good few seconds, there was a pause.

'Good point there, Dellenger,' said Karmen, smiling. 'And-'

The annoying sound of someone shushing interrupted Karmen, and she turned to find Vex had his finger raised; his Vox headphone pushed against one ear. He lowered it and faced them, his face an even whiter shade of pale.

'W-what's wrong, Vex?' said Arlathan.

'The higher-up himself just sent out a communication via only the highest-up channel,' said Vex. 'He only said, "The attacks are to begin soon."'

'The frig does that mean?' said Torris.

'Nothing good,' said Dellenger unnecessarily. 'Nothing good at all. Wait..." attacks" plural? Now, what does that mean?'

'It means we need to get on the vox and warn Enandra now! That's what it means!' cried Arlathan as he tuned his micro-bead.



Enandra had just finished her briefing when she reached to her micro-bead. 'Yes, Arlathan, what is it? Okay, I got you, yes. Are you all right? Yes, I will thank you.'

She looked at the Canoness, who, like most others, was trying to recover her wits from the revelation.

'Do you have a void shield?' said Enandra.

'Yes. Why?'

'Well, activate it!' Enandra snapped suddenly. 'Activate it now!'



Leaving her empty body behind her, Karmen's incorporeal form exploded out of the hab block and into the air above Quorasita. It happened so fast that it took her a split-second to regain her composure, but she spun and shot toward the Arbites' tower. Torris had told her the activation unit for the precinct's void shield was in the basement.

Praying there was an Arbitrator down there, Karmen crossed the four-kilometre or so distance to the precinct in only a couple of real-world seconds, hoping to hell and back her unsubtle use of her power didn't draw any unwanted attention.

She plunged through the adamantium wall, and there she sensed the three Astropaths' presence, and they sensed her too, but Karmen sent out mind jabs that knocked all three unconscious before they could react.

Clenching her imaginary teeth, Karmen dived down into the basement, and much to her relief, a man was sitting at the void shield controls. Karmen crashed into him, taking control of his mind, but...But it seemed like she'd dived into a vat of butter as he instantly fought. By the Emperor, he had a strong will! The internal klaxons in the precinct wailed into life. She fought to draw his memory of how the controls worked, she found it, but it took much, much longer than she had hoped. She kept sending into his mind that if he didn't cooperate, it meant the death of him and everyone in the building, but it made no difference. She made his hand type in the passcode; it was shaking so much she barely managed to press the right stud in time.

Finally! Frigging, eventually, she managed to type in the code, and then she reached for the activation stud.



Two ships, The Hauler of the Martyred Lady and The Travelling Harlequin, were just two of the hundreds of merchant-class vessels drifting in the atmosphere above Quoranda. They suddenly began to reposition in the silence of the void. Their manoeuvre drives allow them to zip past the countless other star ships around Quoranda. Both only took a few minutes to find their places. One sat directly above the Sisters of Battle convent in the middle of the Coristian forest. The other is right above the capital city of Quorasita. Both ships had passed inspection by the Quorandaian authorities, and both ships were perfectly legal and licensed by Battlefleet Calixis. But both were hauling hidden weaponry revealed from beneath hidden compartments that slid away. Titan Forge Lances were weapons usually reserved for Rogue Traders and Imperial Navy ships. The ships spun in the void, so their tips faced the surface. Titan Pattern Lances were powerful, long-range precision weapons designed to pulp armour plating on starships and everything in between in an instant, not for orbital bombardment but for a single, smaller target on a slow-moving planet. They were the perfect weapons, especially at what was, by void battle standards, not just point-blank but face-to-face.

They made a target lock and opened fire; the beams of super-heated energy blasted through the atmosphere and hit their targets in less than three seconds.



Dellenger and Kalakor ran across the rooftops of the Quorasita, throwing almost all of their caution to the wind in the desperate bid to reach the Arbites precinct in time. Despite knowing they could get caught up in whatever attack would happen. Meanwhile, back at the headquarters, the others were preparing to evacuate in case the "attacks" included them.

After he leapt across another gap, Dellenger's micro-bead beeped, and he checked the code. It was from The Audacious Edge and on the shared channel.

Cursing, Dellenger accepted the call and hunkered down. If they were risking this, it couldn't be good at all.

'This is Captain Ellonius,' said an unfamiliar voice. 'My apologies in risking this, but I must inform you, about five minutes ago, two of the merchant ships have broken orbit and have positioned themselves over Quorasita and the Adepta Sororitas convent.'

That made Dellenger's heart freeze over.

'And...gak! They're powering up weapons, lance weapons! Watch-'

A bright light exploded into life in the sky, and Dellenger just managed to look away and close his eyes before the pillar of super-heated plasma abruptly engulfed the Arbites precinct.

Despite closing his eyes, the light had imprinted on his retinas. Once it died away, Dellenger set himself to blinking and shaking his watering gaze back to normal. All around him rose the shrill crescendo of public alarm klaxons across the city.

'By the Emperor,' gasped Kalakor and finally, Dellenger managed to regain his sight and what he saw made his jaw drop. The Arbites precinct and at least a block of buildings around it had been reduced to nothing but a crater of blackened molten slag.

'What's happening down there?' cried Captain Ellonius. 'Report now, please!'

Dellenger couldn't even begin to report as he gaped like a fool.

'Report, now!' said Ellonius. 'gak! Now we're detecting numerous weapon activations across all the void ships around Quoranda! Most of these ships should not have weaponry of this calibre. Now they're firing on each other! It's a frigging massacre. Someone! Anyone! Tell me what's going on!'

Enandra stood and activated her micro-bead. 'Yes, we're fine.'

Attelus didn't know who she was talking to, but "fine" was too strong a word to describe how they were right now. The void shield had only been erected a second before the impact, and by the Emperor, it shook everything so much that the bottles fell off the table, and many of the Stormtroopers were thrown off their feet. Soloston was knocked from his chair. The Sisters and the power-armoured Throne Agent stayed standing.

Attelus had stayed sitting, but his heart was thumping so hard it seemed like it was thrumming a mile a second through his rib cage.

The Canoness reached to her ear. 'Report!' she snapped.

'What was that?' said Hadrel.

'Orbital lance strike,' said Enandra as if it was the most minor thing in the galaxy. 'Your enemy almost had us wiped out in one fell swoop. If it weren't for my people, you'd all be molten slag right now. The Adeptus Arbites weren't so lucky. As we speak, a void battle is being waged among the merchant and transport ships in orbit, but it seems more of a slaughter from the report.'

She turned to Soloston. 'I think it's you who owe me now.'

Soloston said nothing; he just kept on frowning.

'The shield has been overridden,' said the Canoness.

'Well, get it the hell back up!' said Enandra. 'It'll take less than forty minutes for the lance to recharge for another blast.'

'Yes, yes, of course,' said the Canoness.

'As I recall, I am in charge here,' said Soloston.

That made Enandra's gaze swing on him. 'You still think that, do you? Nor after you've shown your incompetence in letting this conspiracy go unnoticed right under your nose!'

'I came to this holy place for prayer and recompense,' said Soloston. 'For contemplation and quiet, to pray for forgiveness...'

'What? For your order of Exterminatus on Gurtar?' said Enandra.

Soloston's frown deepened, and his attention fell to the floor.

'Well, Soloston, only in death does duty end, and your duty as an Inquisitor overrides your need to wallow in self-pity no matter what you did. That is what led to General Tathe's fall.'

Soloston's reply was a grimace.

'Excuse me,' said a voice, and everyone turned to find it was the Palantine. 'I think there's one huge problem we have to speak about. One big thing we need to talk about.'

'What's that?' said Enandra.

'Now it is confirmed the plague is of heretical origin. What are we going to do with the thousands of sick people downstairs?'

Enandra exchanged a glance with the Canoness.

Attelus clenched his jaw. He could only think of one thing the Puritanical Sisters would do: slaughter them in mass, and Attelus wouldn't blame them if they did. His heart leapt in his chest, those poor people to be sent here in the hope of sanctuary and a cure or at the least a vaccine, but now they will be likely burned alive or shot into a paste, and they would have no idea why.

Enandra looked at Soloston. 'You said that their sickness was not unnatural according to your tests.'

He nodded. 'Indeed. You might think I am incompetent as an Inquisitor, but I can assure you, I am more than competent as a scientist, and their sickness was not warp-based.'

Soloston looked at Attelus. 'It sounds like you were correct in your assessment, young man. The local government was sending us the normal sick, not the people locked in that horrific quarantine centre.'

'So we are not going to do a thing,' said Enandra. 'Just increase the guard on them considerably.'

This made another silence hang in the air.

'Hmm,' said Attelus as he stroked his thin chin, making everyone look at him. 'What if killing them is the trigger?'

'What?' said Soloston.

'Have any of the people you've been looking after died yet?' said Attelus.

'No,' said Soloston. 'Despite the fact there is a five per cent fatality rate according to the local authorities.'

'Okay. So, what if the quarantined people in the beds had died, and that's why they have stepped up in the uhh, symptoms?'

'But those people seemed alive according to your agent?' said the Palantine.

Attelus shrugged. 'If there's something I've learned a long time ago is: sometimes, death is not the end.'

Especially in my case.

'So you think, if we kill them, they'll be infected properly, boy?' said the Canoness. 'That's insane.'

He looked at her. 'Last time I checked, mamzel, there's nothing "sane" about the warp and the Ruinous Powers.'

'Well,' said the Palantine. 'As much as I hesitate to say this, I think if that is even a small possibility, we need to burn them. Alive, I am afraid.'

'We are not doing that,' said Enandra as she glared daggers at Attelus. 'Not unless there is confirmation without any doubt. Until then, as much as I respect the insight of one of my Throne Agents, especially one that has a...unique view of this galaxy, until then, it's just conjecture. We must assume they are loyal, innocent Imperial Citizens.'

'Unless they are not,' said Soloston as he pulled a laspistol from a holster beneath his robes. 'We have a few that are convicts with a history of murder and other criminal activities. We must test your boy's hypothesis. Many of them were to be executed for their crimes, anyway.'

Enandra clenched her teeth. 'If that's the case, why did you have them brought here? You wished to cure these criminals then?'

'It is in case we need to have a few dead specimens for autopsy,' said Soloston, and Attelus couldn't help gape at how cold the Inquisitor's voice was. 'This is my area of expertise, Inquisitor Enandra, so let me do what must be done.'

The motto of this organisation filtered through Attelus' mind: we do what must be done, and he looked at Enandra, whose jaw was grinding like never before.

'You are one ruthless bastard, Soloston,' she said.

A small smile crawled across Soloston's thin lips. 'Of course, it comes with the territory, does it not? You should know this by now.'

Soloston's goggled gaze swivelled to Attelus. 'We are going to do this, and you are coming with me as a witness; this was your idea, so you must take responsibility.'

Attelus gulped and nodded. 'O-okay.'

The Canoness turned to the Palantine. 'Take a squad and gather the criminal patients.'

'Yes, mamzel Canoness,' said the Palantine, and she stomped out of the room; she didn't hide the hesitancy on her face.

Enandra looked at the Canoness. 'Also, increase the patrols on the wall.'

'You think there might be a ground assault?' said the Canoness.

'I don't think there will be a ground assault,' said Enandra. 'I know there will be.'

Attelus shrugged and pursed his lips; only if we get the void shield back up in time, he thought.

Enandra stood and activated her micro-bead. 'Yes, we're fine.'

Attelus didn't know who she was talking to, but "fine" was too strong a word to describe how they were right now. The void shield had only been erected a second before the impact, and by the Emperor, it shook everything so much that the bottles fell off the table, and many of the Stormtroopers were thrown off their feet. Soloston was knocked from his chair. The Sisters and the power-armoured Throne Agent stayed standing.

Attelus had stayed sitting, but his heart was thumping so hard it seemed like it was thrumming a mile a second through his rib cage.

The Canoness reached to her ear. 'Report!' she snapped.

'What was that?' said Hadrel.

'Orbital lance strike,' said Enandra as if it was the most minor thing in the galaxy. 'Your enemy almost had us wiped out in one fell swoop. If it weren't for my people, you'd all be molten slag right now. The Adeptus Arbites weren't so lucky. As we speak, a void battle is being waged among the merchant and transport ships in orbit, but it seems more of a slaughter from the report.'

She turned to Soloston. 'I think it's you who owe me now.'

Soloston said nothing; he just kept on frowning.

'The shield has been overridden,' said the Canoness.

'Well, get it the hell back up!' said Enandra. 'It'll take less than forty minutes for the lance to recharge for another blast.'

'Yes, yes, of course,' said the Canoness.

'As I recall, I am in charge here,' said Soloston.

That made Enandra's gaze swing on him. 'You still think that, do you? Nor after you've shown your incompetence in letting this conspiracy go unnoticed right under your nose!'

'I came to this holy place for prayer and recompense,' said Soloston. 'For contemplation and quiet, to pray for forgiveness...'

'What? For your order of Exterminatus on Gurtar?' said Enandra.

Soloston's frown deepened, and his attention fell to the floor.

'Well, Soloston, only in death does duty end, and your duty as an Inquisitor overrides your need to wallow in self-pity no matter what you did. That is what led to General Tathe's fall.'

Soloston's reply was a grimace.

'Excuse me,' said a voice, and everyone turned to find it was the Palantine. 'I think there's one huge problem we have to speak about. One big thing we need to talk about.'

'What's that?' said Enandra.

'Now it is confirmed the plague is of heretical origin. What are we going to do with the thousands of sick people downstairs?'

Enandra exchanged a glance with the Canoness.

Attelus clenched his jaw. He could only think of one thing the Puritanical Sisters would do, slaughter them in mass, and Attelus wouldn't blame them if they did. His heart leapt in his chest, those poor people to be sent here in the hope of sanctuary and a cure or at the least a vaccine, but now they will be likely burned alive or shot into a paste, and they would have no idea why.

Enandra looked at Soloston. 'You said that their sickness was not unnatural according to your tests.'

He nodded. 'Indeed. You might think I am incompetent as an Inquisitor, but I can assure you, I am more than competent as a scientist, and their sickness was not warp based.'

Soloston looked at Attelus. 'It sounds like you were correct in your assessment, young man. The local government was sending us the normal sick, not the people locked in that horrific quarantine centre.'

'So we are not going to do a thing,' said Enandra. 'Just increase the guard on them considerably.'

This made another silence hang in the air.

'Hmm,' said Attelus as he stroked his thin chin, making everyone look at him. 'What if killing them is the trigger?'

'What?' said Soloston.

'Have any of the people you've been looking after died yet?' said Attelus.

'No,' said Soloston. 'Despite the fact there is a five per cent fatality rate according to the local authorities.'

'Okay. So, what if the quarantined people in the beds had died, and that's why they have stepped up in the uhh, symptoms?'

'But those people seemed alive according to your agent?' said the Palantine.

Attelus shrugged. 'If there's something I've learned a long time ago is: sometimes, death is not the end.'

Especially in my case.

'So you think, if we kill them, they'll be infected properly, boy?' said the Canoness. 'That's insane.'

He looked at her. 'Last time I checked, mamzel, there's nothing "sane" about the warp and the Ruinous Powers.'

'Well,' said the Palantine. 'As much as I hesitate to say this, I think if that is even a small possibility, we need to burn them. Alive, I am afraid.'

'We are not doing that,' said Enandra as she glared daggers at Attelus. 'Not unless there is confirmation without any doubt. Until then, as much as I respect the insight of one of my Throne Agents, especially one that has a...unique view of this galaxy, until then, it's just conjecture. We must assume they are loyal, innocent Imperial Citizens.'

'Unless they are not,' said Soloston as he pulled a laspistol from a holster beneath his robes. 'We have a few that are convicts with a history of murder and other criminal activities. We must test your boy's hypothesis. Many of them were to be executed for their crimes, anyway.'

Enandra clenched her teeth. 'If that's the case, why did you have them brought here? You wished to cure these criminals then?'

'It is in case we need to have a few dead specimens for autopsy,' said Soloston, and Attelus couldn't help gape at how cold the Inquisitor's voice was. 'This is my area of expertise, Inquisitor Enandra, so let me do what must be done.'

The motto of this organisation filtered through Attelus' mind, we do what must be done, and he looked at Enandra, whose jaw was grinding like never before.

'You are one ruthless bastard, Soloston,' she said.

A small smile crawled across Soloston's thin lips. 'Of course, it comes with the territory, does it not? You should know this by now.'

Soloston's goggled gaze swivelled to Attelus. 'We are going to do this, and you are coming with me as a witness; this was your idea, so you must take responsibility.'

Attelus gulped and nodded. 'O-okay.'

The Canoness turned to the Palantine. 'Take a squad and gather the criminal patients.'

'Yes, mamzel Canoness,' said the Palantine, and she stomped out of the room; she didn't hide the hesitancy on her face.

Enandra looked at the Canoness. 'Also, increase the patrols on the wall.'

'You think there might be a ground assault?' said the Canoness.

'I don't think there will be a ground assault,' said Enandra. 'I know there will be.'

Attelus shrugged and pursed his lips; only if we get the void shield back up in time, he thought.

Arlathan led his team as they exploded from the doors and ran straight for the jungle. Arlathan didn't even blink as he opened fire with his storm bolter, scything the explosive shots through the trees. Sporadic and inaccurate autogun fire replied, but Kollath and his Stormtroopers fanned out with incredible speed and discipline, adding their hellgun fire. The Stormtroopers were carrying Vex's cogitator and hauling Karmen's boxed power armour firing from the hip. Hellfire sliced through underbrush and tree alike as if it was made of tissue, and shrieks of pain and surprise came as the enemy, thinking themselves safe behind cover, found out they weren't.

Vex and Halsin began shooting their lasguns, Tathe his laspistol while Torris added his shotgun blasts to the cacophony. Darrance and Delathasi fired while flurries with their suppressed autoguns.

Arlathan knew they had a very limited window to take advantage of the shock their sudden counterattack caused their enemies, so he shouted his people onward, sending storm bolter shot after storm bolter shot out.

It only took them a few seconds to sprint the distance into the jungle proper. A shadow flicked in the corner of Arlathan's eye, and he exploded it into a red mist with a shot as dozens of other figures were cut asunder by hell shots.

'Signatures?' Arlathan asked Kollath, who was carrying the auspex.

'Dozens more, at least, closing in on us,' said the sergeant.

Arlathan cursed and hoped to hell none of those signals were Chaos Marines.

Or they had more time before that Land Raider found them.



Dellenger parried a stabbing bayonet, then crushed in the mask of the militiaman with the butt of his lasgun. Another militiaman charged him wildly, but Dellenger slid aside the attacker with ease, then punched his knife deep into the back of the man's neck. Dellenger then side-kicked the man in the base of the spine, sending the attacker careening off his feet and smashing face-first against the rooftop.

Meanwhile, Kalakor's bolter was a blur as it snapped out shot after shot, Dellenger didn't need to look to see each one messily erased any enemy coming their way.

Dellenger threw himself behind the Space Marine before the autoguns of more enemies could cut him down and reloaded, the sound of the shots ineffectually crashing against the Astartes' armour, sheared into Dellenger's ears making him wince.

The shooting didn't last long before Kalakor spun and shot.

Three more enemies emerged in Dellenger's view, but before they could pull their triggers, Dellenger hosed them down with a sweeping flurry of las fire.

Kalakor pulled the bolt pistol magnetised to his hip and fired that alongside Dellenger's shots in that direction. Each round was on target despite not even looking as his bolter kept blasting. Dellenger couldn't help but cry out at the horridness of the combined cacophony.

Dellenger knelt and activated his vox-link as he blasted a shot into the chest of another militiaman while he was slipped out from cover.

'Kalakor, we can't keep this up forever!'

'I am aware, but my actual concern is why the Chaos Marines have not shown up yet.'

Dellenger nodded; he'd thought the same.

'How do we-'

Kalakor interrupted Dellenger by suddenly picking him and then exploding into a sprint straight toward the end of the building.

'Kalakor!' Dellenger shrieked as the Space Marine launched them over the parapet, then fell for the street fifteen stories below and the traffic driving along its length.



Over the last minute or so, Arlathan had already lost count of how many enemies he'd killed as all around him, the Stormtroopers and everyone laid down an almost non-stop hail of shots. The world had seemed to become eclipsed in fury and fire. But somehow, no one had been hurt amongst his people, but Arlathan suspected that wouldn't last much longer.

'You hear that?' said Darrance over the link.

Arlathan gritted his teeth, about to snap, "I can't hear anything over this hell," but the retort died in his throat as the high-pitched shrieking managed to pierce through the cacophony. Then, the ground began to shake so hard that Arlathan barely managed to keep his feet.

'The hell is that?' said Torris.

A second later, the Land Raider crashed into view, and its hull-mounted heavy bolter exploded into life.

Three of the Stormtroopers became bloody pulps in the first salvo, and two more were sent writhing to the dirt from the shrapnel of their exploding allies and the underbrush, including the one carrying Karmen over his shoulder.

Arlathan couldn't cry out as he threw himself to the dirt. However, even still, he managed to witness Torris, standing calm amidst the chaos, who, with four fast blasts of his meltagun and firing from the frigging hip, destroyed not just the heavy bolter on the front of the tank but the pintle-mounted storm bolter on top and both lascannon turrets on its sides. It was easily one of the most incredible acts of bravery and skill Arlathan had ever seen.

The Land Raider stood still; its only sound was the rumbling of its engine as if Torris' achievement shocked even it.

A split-second later, the guns of Arlathan's followers opened fire; the world became a blaze of red light as the shots sheered against the Land Raider's hull. Hellgun fire was so supercharged it could penetrate even Astartes power armour, but they only left minor, black burn marks in the tank's beige, bulging, skin-like surface. Arlathan raised his storm bolter, aiming for the hatch in the front, utterly dreading it opening and revealing the terrifying Chaos Marines inside.

But it didn't open, instead the tank surged forwards, straight for the prone Arlathan. Its exhilaration was incredible; it must've been a good one hundred kilometres in a few seconds; there was no way he could get out of the way in time; despite this fact, he began to scramble onto his feet. It would've crushed Arlathan into paste, but as the reinforced treads were right in Arlathan's face, the tank shuddered to a stop.

For a split second, Arlathan's bemused mind drew him to the conclusion that the tank had stopped on its own for some reason beyond his comprehension.

'Get out of the way!' Karmen shrieked over the vox-link through a portcullis of teeth. Her using that instead of mind-speak emphasised how much strain she must've been in.

Arlathan threw himself aside as the Land Raider exploded forward. He didn't know how many allies were in its path or who'd managed to get out of the way, but he hoped it was everyone.

The tank burst past, and on instinct, Arlathan blasted his storm bolter, its shells ineffectually exploding against the tank's flank.

Now, with Arlathan's and the attention of his people on the Land Raider, shots came from the underbrush, autogun shots coursed. Two of the Storm Troopers were smashed off their feet as the rounds sparked and spanked off their carapace armour. Torris also became winged, the impact smashing him onto his back, his luck seeming to run out. Clenching his teeth, Arlathan hunkered down and returned fire at the advancing figures, scything down at least two in bloody hazes.

The Land Raider was like a careening cyclone through the forest as it wound around to attempt another pass, and Arlathan couldn't help but wonder why it hadn't disgorged its deadly cargo yet. It was as if, as if...

The tracks on the right side of the tank stopped suddenly, forcing the Land Raider to keep spinning in place, throwing up even more mud and dirt in a cascading wave that sent Kollath, Halsin and Delathasi sprawling out of the way. Another example of Karmen's skill and power as a psyker, but she-

Arlathan's thoughts were interrupted as more shots sheered over him, making him cower all the more, this time coming from behind.

'I will take care of it,' Darrance called over the vox, and Arlathan didn't have to look to know he would as Arlathan began to fire into the advancing enemy again. Arlathan cursed, at this rate he'd have to call in Ulysses and the Guncutter for extraction, and that was the last thing he wanted now, showing their hand so soon.

Many a question percolated in Arlathan's skull through the chaos and the cacophony of the combat, but the question on top of them all was: where the hell were the other Chaos Marines? Surely Torris hadn't killed all of them back at the hospital?

'I am about to lose grip on the Land Raider! Be ready!' Karmen cried.

Arlathan clenched his teeth as he vaporised the chest of an advancing enemy, and his hands made him reload. He only had two clips left, and there were many, many more figures emerging and-

The Land Raider swayed as it began to break from Karmen's telekinetic grip. But then it froze.

'What's happening there, Karmen?' yelled Torris. 'That you?'

'N-no,' said Karmen. 'I'm not doing anything at all!'

'Well, what is going on?' Arlathan said, and he was forced to drop again as more autogun fire sheered over him.

Kalakor and Dellenger emerged inside the Land Raider through the portal, and the split-second they did, bolter fire crashed and thrashed against Kalakor, sending him writhing and reeling onto his back with a crash that eclipsed the bolter blasts. Dellenger slid aside the crumpling Space Marine and opened fire with his lasgun, a full auto burst that sheered against the Chaos Marine's carapace. He knew it wouldn't do a thing, but he hoped it would draw its attention from the fallen Kalakor.

And it frigging worked as the Chaos Marine adjusted its aim, and Dellenger threw himself to the floor before being pulped by the first bolt, and he rolled to avoid the second; there was no way he would be able to get away from the third.

But by then, Kalakor had found himself, and his shots crashed into the Chaos Marine's bolter, exploding it into shrapnel.

The Chaos Marine reached for the rusty, bloody blade and bolt pistol at its hip, but Kalakor was up on his knees, and a full-auto barrage sent welts of slimy, green ichor flying everywhere. Dellenger barely managed to slide away from some spewing his way. But the Chaos Marine was undeterred as it threw itself at Kalakor, an incomprehensible gurgling curse bubbling from its helm. Kalakor sidestepped the clumsy Chaos Marine with ease and plunged his knife deep into the side of the Chaos Marine's neck, just in the gap between its helmet and gorget. The Chaos Marine gurgled out but kept blundering forward. It crashed against the tank's back wall and took Kalakor's knife with it.

Kalakor still had his bolter, though. He reloaded and blasted shot after shot point-blank into the Chaos Marine's face plate until the Chaos Marine's skull blew out the back of the helm, and it slumped forward.

Dellenger was about to compliment the Space Marine, but Kalakor poured several more shots into the corpse, making Dellenger flinch.

'Nice,' said Dellenger as Kalakor retrieved his knife, turned away and began to pierce the veil again. Dellenger sighed. After they escaped from the enemy, they'd got a psychic call from Karmen Kons informing them of their situation and rough location, and they were fighting a frigging Chaos Land Raider, and they needed their help. So Kalakor teleported them inside, and here they were, somehow. Dellenger had made frigging sure to put on his rebreather beforehand.

'Where to now?'

'Far away from here to meet with the rest later, the likes of the Interrogator cannot know of my power.'

'Of course. Makes sense.'

'Of course, it makes sense. I always make sense.'

Dellenger sighed again. 'Where do you think the other Chaos Marines are? Assuming that Torris didn't kill them all?'

'Where there is one Chaos Marine of the Plague God, there are many more. I am guessing that if it was not destroyed during the initial barrage, they are assaulting the Adepta Sororitas convent or preparing to, as we speak.'

'That...makes sense.'

'I need not repeat myself, do I, scout trooper?'

'No,' Dellenger sighed. 'No, you don't.'



Hospitaller Sister Sallias paused as a strange, slight gurgling sound caught her ear, and she turned. One of the patients lay in his cot a few metres away, but the peculiar brown and green bubbles emerging from his open maw were easy to see.

'What in-'

Before Sallias could finish her sentence, Hospitaller Sister Gossal rushed to the patient's side and checked his pulse rate.

'What is wrong, Gossal?' said Sallias as she began to approach.

'His pulse is not elevated,' said Gossal, blinking rapidly with the bursting bubbles. She slid a miniature illuminator from a pouch and shone it into the man's eyes while she tried to keep a safe distance from the foaming bubbles. 'Pupils are dilated and...'

Gossal's face paled.

'What is bothering you, sister?'

'Look at his eyes, sister,' said Gossal.

Sallias nodded and bent over the prone man, and much to her bemusement, his eyes had changed. Grey and green veins had grown across the whites and into the iris.

Sallias' reply died away as more gurgling grew behind her, and she turned.

The woman in the cot next to her had begun to writhe, bubbles erupting from her open maw in patterns that seemed like blossoming flowers. She, too, had the same eyes. Sallias turned to Gossal, her heart sinking; in the God-Emperor's name, this was not good.

'What is going on?' said Sallias, but her words became lost in mid-sentence as the gurgling suddenly arose around them in a deafening, horrific cacophony.

'Sorry, sister?' Gossal yelled over her shoulder, and then the man's hand shot up and eclipsed her throat.

'Sister, Gossal!' Sallias cried and ran to Gossal's aide, but she felt hands as hard as ceramide and as cold as freezing tundra grab her shoulders and yank her off her feet like she was made of cotton. Sallias screamed and turned, her combat instincts taking over as she swung out a fist. It cracked against the woman's jaw but barely even made her flinch, and Sallias started to wish dearly she'd worn her power armour as her mind comprehended the rotting, putrescent thing in front of her.

Screaming an oath to the Emperor, Sallias reached for the bolt pistol holstered at her hip.



Enandra reached for her microbead, as did the Canoness' whose name Attelus couldn't remember the frigging name of for the life of him. And Attelus could make out the panicked voices erupting from them, and both blanched at what they heard.

'We have Thunder Hawk Gunships approaching our position!' said Enandra.

'The sick are rebelling!' said the Canoness. Both at the same time.

'What do you mean, rebelling?' said Soloston, his eyes narrowed behind his glasses.

The Canoness looked at Soloston with wide eyes that surprised Attelus with the potency of the fear behind them. Then she began to fiddle with her micro-bead as she tuned through the channels with impressive dexterity despite her power armoured fingers.

'I have not a clue, Inquisitor,' said the Canoness, 'the communication cut off in an instant.'

Soloston sneered and was about to reply, but Attelus couldn't help but blurt out, 'They're not rebelling; they're infected with the Plague god's curse! I told you this would happen, Soloston I frigging told you!'

'Be silent, boy!' snarled the power armoured Throne Agent. 'How dare you speak to the Inquisitor with such disrespect!'

Attelus couldn't help but purse his lips and shut up; the power of the man's ferocity seemed to hurt Attelus' collarbone.

There were a few seconds of awkward silence, which was broken by Goruan, ever the rational man, who turned to Enandra. 'Thunder Hawks? Of what kind? How long will it take for them to get here?'

'My ship is too far away to get a positive identification of what faction they are a part of,' said Enandra, and she looked Soloston dead in the eye, 'but we can guess what faction they're a part of, can't we? How long? Thirty-two minutes, approximately.'

Attelus rolled his eyes; of course, that was before they could set up the void shield. Soon, they won't have just the tides of undead below them, but Chaos Space Marines coming from above as well. The thought made Attelus shudder.

Soloston frowned. He opened his mouth to reply, but the Canoness interrupted him.

'Enough of this posturing!' she said as she began to stomp for the door. 'We must leave to aid my Sisters! Come, my Sisters! To battle!'

'Wait!' said Soloston, which made the Canoness stop in her tracks. 'We cannot rush into this, Canoness. I will scout the lower floors.'

The Canoness pursed her dry lips and studied the Inquisitor for a few seconds as she breathed so heavily it reminded Attelus of an angry grox before giving Soloston a hesitant nod.

Soloston nodded back and looked at the Throne Agent in power armour. The Throne Agent walked behind Soloston, and the Inquisitor collapsed into the Throne Agent's waiting hands.

Another silence hung for a few seconds, and Attelus couldn't help but look at Satiristine, which she returned, and the fear glimmering in her .gorgeous gaze took Attelus' breath away. He realised then that it was unlikely she'd ever seen live-action before. Then, an idea hit Attelus, and he looked at Enandra.

'Your Guncutter?'

Enandra shook her head. 'I sent it to land a few kilometres away and hide in the forest, let's just hope the enemy do not detect it. I will-'

The sudden, brutal gasp erupting from Soloston cut her reply short, and he writhed out of the grasp of the Throne Agent, his eyes bulging in utter horror.

'What is happening down there, Inquisitor?' demanded the Canoness.

Still struggling to breathe, Soloston looked at Enandra. 'The plague victims have become mindless peons in the service...'

He turned to Attelus. 'The service of the damned Plague god and are in the midst of overwhelming and slaughtering the poor damned Sister Hospitallers and my acolytes who were treating them, oh God-Emperor, it was horrible.'

'That's it then,' said the Canoness, raising her bolter and racking the slide. 'We are going down to aid any of my Sisters that are still alive and destroy those blasphemies.'

The Canoness began making for the door but stopped as she turned to Enandra, her gaze questioning. Then everyone else looked at her, even Soloston.

Enandra pouted and shrugged. 'That idea seems as good as any, Canoness. What? Contend with legions of the undead or Chaos Space Marines that worship Nurgle?'

Attelus couldn't help flinching, along with several of the Sisters and the power-armoured Throne Agent, as Goruan watched on, grinning.

'My apologies,' said Enandra. 'I should not say that name out loud so often.'

Attelus blinked and flinched, and he shot his gaze to the Canoness. 'Is there any way down to the underground networks?'

The Canoness' eyes narrowed. 'How do you know about those, boy?'

Attelus fought the urge to sigh and roll his eyes and failed miserably. 'Please, mamzel. I'm a Throne Agent; of course, I know about them. Is there a way to get down there from here? I'm guessing there is from how you'd just replied.'

'Wait, wait, wait,' said the Throne Agent in power armour. 'Are you suggesting, boy, that we fight our way through thousands of the unholy undead only to descend into a maze of uncharted tunnels to get lost hopelessly?'

'What? You'd rather facing down angry Plague Marines coming from above as the masses of Plague zombies converge on our backs?' said Attelus.

Soloston looked at Enandra. 'What about your Guncutter? We could try to-'

'Do not finish that sentence, Inquisitor!' snarled the Canoness with such power everyone in the room flinched. 'We are not abandoning my Sisters to the horde! And I do not care how high your authority is. I will not let you abandon them either!'

Soloston stared at the Canoness with wide, fear-filled eyes.

Enandra cleared her throat, causing all attention to turn to her. 'The enemy ships are too close to us, so they will be on us before they can reach us, and, no, it cannot outfight three Thunder Hawks.'

Perhaps it could with Darrance behind the helm, thought Attelus.

Enandra pouted, a surprisingly girlish expression for an Inquisitor of her seniority. 'No, maybe Ulysses could manage it,

'So, then we fight,' said the Canoness. 'We fight, and we save as many Sisters we can, then we escape down into the caves below the surface. We do, indeed, have a stairway built that descends the plateau to the caves.'

Soloston sighed. 'Anyone else have any better ideas?'

No one said anything, not even the Throne Agent in power armour; much to Attelus' amusement, Satiristine and Hadrel shook their heads.

'Understood, yes, Canoness, Silavalia, please...lead the way,' said Soloston with a non-committal wave of the hand.

It was clear to Attelus that no one wanted to plunge into the hordes of Plague zombies below and potentially get lost in that maze. But what other choice did they have?

Attelus couldn't help but look at Satiristine; he hoped he wouldn't have to watch her die like Elandria. Or, potentially, watch Elandria die again.

Satiristine caught his look and gave him a thin smile and an encouraging nod, which brought him back to reality, and he reached for his sword.

'I'll lead the way,' said Attelus and everyone except Satiristine turned to him.

'What did you say?' said the Canoness, and the hostility in her tone made Attelus gape, but he managed to gain control of himself and stood his ground as she stomped up to him.

'I said I'll lead the frigging way,' said Attelus through clenched teeth. The Canoness' gauntleted hand shot to snatch him by the cloak, but Attelus easily slipped aside it.

'W-what are you doing?' said Attelus as he drew his sword and activated it in a blaze of blue with an instinctive flick of the thumb.

'Do not presume to order us around, you little gak!' she snarled through clenched teeth. 'You are the last one here who can make such demands!'

'I can make such demands,' said Enandra; her voice was low, calm but so resonant and authoritative the anger on the Canoness' face disappeared, and she turned to the Inquisitor.

'And I demand Attelus Kaltos here takes point; he is a close-quarters specialist and easily the best in my employment. You want him on point, believe you me.'

Attelus couldn't help but smile at Enandra's compliment.

'But-'

'But nothing, Canoness. We are burning precious time. Now let's get moving!'

Not a new chapter, but Secret War: The Annihilation Plague is almost finished. I have been working on the cover for the 4th instalment, and I haven't decided on the subtitle yet, in all honesty. It's a drawing of the inevitable rematch of Attelus vs Serghar.



It's the 1st drawing I've done in...frigging ages. Years, maybe? Frig, it can't be that long. But I'm happy with it so far. I'm trying to show the speed that both the enhanced human warriors would fight with, so I went with a lot of exaggeration. After the events of Secret War: The Annihilation Plague show the utter hatred and rage Attelus holds for his father. I also had Attelus throw a knife as I had him kick a dude in the throat with his boot knife in the last cover, so him throwing his knife is a continuity of his more pragmatic fighting style. Unlike the cover for Annihilation Plague, I decided to go comparatively simple and use A4 paper as I don't have easy access to an A3 scanner. Not sure what to do with the background: a Battle perhaps? I struggled with Attelus' sword and Serghar's pose. I enjoyed drawing Serghar. It's been the first time in years since I drew him to get an idea of what he looked like as an NPC in my old Dark Heresy campaign. Fun times!

Author's Note: Hey ya, my fellow Dakka Dakkaites! Hope life is treating all of you well! Thought I'd give an update on the cover for Of Excess and Sickness. It's finished! Anyway, I hope you enjoy this latest chapter, and thanks for taking the time to read my work!



Attelus, with Goruan and the power-armoured Throne Agent behind him, led the group out of the room and began toward the lower levels as the sisters fanned out, bolters raised. Attelus slipped on his rebreather and was so damned glad it was returned to him for the upcoming battle.

Then, the exhaustion hit Attelus again, and he had to fight from falling on his face. Perhaps his taking point wasn't a good idea after all. But he clenched his teeth and kept walking; he wanted to make Enandra proud. He wanted to prove his abilities to the Canoness and the others, and...he had to admit he wanted to prove himself to Satiristine the most. With the thought of her, Attelus fought the urge to look at her.

They only walked a few metres more before the faint sound of moaning and crashing echoed in Attelus' ears, and he stopped, raising his fist to signal the others to halt.

‘gak,’ Attelus hissed. 'They're already at the doors.'

'What? How can you know that?' snapped the Canoness.

'I can hear them. They're trying to break down the doors,' said Attelus as he looked over his shoulder at them.

Both the power-armoured Throne Agent and Goruan exchanged looks.

'Goruan?' said Soloston.

'Don't hear nothin' boss.'

Attelus frowned and fought the urge to point out the Catachan's double negative.

'I do not believe you, boy,' said the Canoness. 'I cannot hear anything either, and I doubt my Sisters would be so quickly overwhelmed.'

'Young Attelus has enhanced senses,' said Enandra. 'I would suggest believing what he says.'

Goruan held up a hand for silence and closed his eyes, listening; it took him a few seconds before his eyes snapped open again, and he looked at Attelus.

'Attelus, here's right. I can hear it, but it's faint, so faint. Dunno how I managed to get the drop on you when you have hearin' that good.'

Attelus just pursed his lips and shrugged while stealing a look at Satiristine, who had yet to put on her helmet; thank the Emperor. Come to think of it, Attelus was already exhausted from his horrible climb, and it must've affected his stealth technique, which would've been a substantial contributing factor toward Goruan catching him. Attelus stole a glance at the Catachan and wondered if Goruan appreciated that, too.

The Canoness' face crinkled even more, but whether it was in anger, disgust or some other emotion, Attelus could only guess. Then he looked at Enandra who was flanked by Selva and the Sons of Dispater leader, Emperor only knew why she got him to come.

That was fine; he didn't need such a power anyway.

'What do we do now?' said one of the Sisters.

'We keep going,' said Enandra. 'This changes nothing. Now, move it!'

An idea then suddenly hit Attelus, and he grinned. 'Hey, anyone got any explosives?'



Arlathan had lost sight of his people through the morass of chaos and thick underbrush. Despite this, Arlathan didn't dare take a second to activate his micro-bead as he ran and was constantly forced to dodge through tree after tree. Arlathan stopped in his dogged advance and dived behind a tree as more gunfire tore through the surroundings from the autoguns from the trio of militia that burst into view.

Cursing, Arlathan let his spent storm bolter hang on its strap over his shoulder, rose into a kneel and drew his backup weapon from the holster on his hip. An old revolver that he'd used as his primary sidearm in his time as a detective in the Magistratum. It wasn't a standard issue, being bought on the black market at a hefty discount, a discount he didn't too subtly force the seller into giving him, but he hadn't cared, and neither did his superiors because it was so damn effective. It was lucky Arlathan, on a whim, had loaded the large calibre revolver with dumm dumm rounds, and the cultists weren't wearing armour. Arlathan shot from the hip, he was never prepared for the incredible kick back as he whacked the hammer with his palm. The results were not as explosive as his Storm Bolter, but still satisfactorily messy. The first cultist on the left, a hole was blasted through his chest with such force he was thrown back like a rocket, and then his skull smashed open against a tree. Arlathan only managed to skim the head of the cultist in the middle, but that was enough to tear open half his skull in an explosion of red, and the figure was sent spinning to the dirt with a muffled cry. The last one managed to open fire, a round passed by Arlathan's face by mere millimetres but that was all the cultist managed as his left hand exploded into nothingness.

Then, more cultists appeared on Arlathan's left, and Arlathan pivoted and shot. He cut down one, two, three, and four, and then his revolver clicked dry, but still, many more were moving his way. Their autoguns exploded into life, and Arlathan clenched his teeth; even with the cartridge, he couldn't reload in time.

But it was just a brief blurt before two black blurs fell on the cultists; the blue lightning of power fields raised hazes of blood into the air with brief screams as the dozen or so cultists were cut apart. Then Delathasi and Darrance seemed to materialise. Both had sheathed their weapons and began hosing shots from the hip at enemies. Arlathan couldn't see further through the forest.

Arlathan sighed and finally managed to activate his vox-link. 'How goes the rear guard, Kollath?'

'We are keeping them at bay, Interrogator!' snarled the sergeant, and Arlathan could hear almost constant hellgun fire in the background. 'But they keep frigging coming. If this doesn't stop, we'll run outta juice!'

'They are constantly hitting us as well,' said Arlathan, and he dropped down as more gunshots flew by. 'How are they getting around us like this?'

'Dunno. They could've been hiding out in the forest? Could be warp magic? Either way, they're complete bastards, and we'll kill as many as we possibly can before-'

A blasting sound through the forest interrupted Kollath.

'Oh, gak,' said Arlathan. 'That's frigging bolter fire!'

Then his vox-link beeped, and Arlathan accepted the call. 'What-?'

'Sir, it's Kalakor and me. We are here to help,' said Dellenger, and before Arlathan could reply, the former guardsman cut the link.

Arlathan frowned, unsure what to make of this new development. He considered cancelling the extraction he'd called to the stealth ship but reconsidered it. They needed a new plan, and that ship would be an excellent place to hide and talk things over.

He just hoped they hadn't already screwed up this mission beyond repair.



Kalakor and Dellenger fell on the rear of the enemy advance. Dellenger fired his lasgun, scything down cultist after cultist with pin-point full-auto flurries. Beside him, Kalakor unleashed bolter rounds from the hip, exploding cultists with such accuracy that Dellenger couldn't help but wonder why the Space Marine even bothered aiming down the iron sights.

The enemy withered under the sudden attack, even highly trained military would break from such fury and so, the militia panicked and began to scatter like vermin caught in headlights. This made them easier targets for Kalakor, Dellenger Arlathan and the others as they caught the enemy in a cross-fire of such intensity and ruthlessness that it took Dellenger's breath away. In mere seconds, over three dozen militia were annihilated, and none managed to escape.

Then Arlathan and Tathe approached Kalakor and Dellenger. Tathe smiled from ear to ear. By contrast, Arlathan's bearded face was grim and determined.

'Sergeant Kalakor, can you please go aid the rear guard?' said the Interrogator.

'"Sergeant Kalakor, can you please go aid the rear guard, lord."'

Arlathan sighed and repeated the Space Marine's sentence verbatim.

'I can,' said Kalakor, and he began past the former commissar and Interrogator, making no sound and barely moving the underbrush, a fact Dellenger still couldn't wrap his head around.

Tathe then suddenly shot forward and wrapped Dellenger in a hug. 'It's good you managed to get out of there, old friend.'

Dellenger couldn't reply, so he just patted his friend on the back.

'Alright, you old friends,' said Arlathan. 'We have to get moving, and now.'



'I do not like this,' said the Canoness, her voice projected easily above the horrid moaning and bashing from the other side of the doors.

'Yes, I am aware of that,' said Enandra as she rolled her eyes. 'You have said that about several dozen times now. But Attelus' idea has logic, and not even your kind can deny that.'

The Canoness grimaced. 'What do you mean, "your kind"?'

As they approached, Enandra rolled her eyes again and turned to the Stormtrooper sergeant and his men. 'The explosives ready?'

'Yes, mamzel Inquisitor,' he said then handed her the remote.

'Give it to Attelus, this was his idea.'

Without hesitation, the Stormtrooper turned and held the remote to Attelus. Attelus frowned and hesitantly took it, great, yet another reasons for the Sisters to hate me, he thought.

Attelus looked at the beautiful old door and the blinking lights of the plastic explosives stuck against it and sighed.

'Hurry it up, kiddo,' said Goruan as he ignored the venomous look from the Canoness. 'You waste any more time, the Chaos Marines will be on our arses soon.'

Attelus nodded, pursed his lips, braced himself for the inevitable blast, and then pushed the blinking red button.

Despite standing a good thirty metres away, the explosions still shook his organs and sent shocking, stinging pain through his every pore. It was huge and, to Attelus' specifics, collapsed most of the floor in the doorway, making a smoking hole about two metres wide, and Attelus couldn't help but pump his fist in victory.

The groaning died away, and dust and smoke engulfed the doorway. Then the groaning grew back into audibility, and finally, Attelus got his first view of the Plague Zombies.

They moved with surprising swiftness, sliding forward with outreaching claw-like fingers. Whatever colour skin they had was gone, now replaced by a light shade of disgusting green. Thick, black, slug-like veins stuck out of every inch of their bodies. Their clothing was reduced to shredded pieces, and their blank, black, bulging eyes glistened somehow with both joy and utter agony. Attelus then realised he didn't want to fight them in close combat but swallowed the thought. In this circumstance, he had no choice.

The zombies exploded through the dust and debris; their groans bubbled from their rotting maws like Attelus imagined someone with liquid inside the lungs. The first dozen mindlessly fell through the hole in the floor, disappearing so suddenly that it almost seemed they weren't ever there.

'Open fire!' Enandra roared, knocking Attelus back to reality. The roar of bolters combined with the shrieks of hellgun fire coursed through the corridor. It made pain spike in Attelus' skull, and it caused him to flinch.

The shots smashed into ranks of undead, exploding or sheering through them. Scything them down in hazes of blackness, and those that managed to bypass the wall of weapons fire fell down the hole. To their deaths, hopefully.

In normal circumstances, they could stand here and shoot until they ran out of ammo or until the zombies were all killed, but with the number of patients the Sisters and Soloston had taken in, the former was more likely. But soon, Chaos Marines would be on their back, so soon they'd have to-.

'Advance!' said Enandra, and instantly, everyone did as ordered while still laying down a devastating wall of shots. As they moved, the horde was pushed back until none of them got far enough to fall down the hole.

As planned, Attelus, Goruan and the power-armoured Throne Agent accelerated in the last few metres. Goruan and the Throne Agent began sprinting, but Attelus jogged to allow them to keep up, even with the enhanced bonding of the Throne Agent's power armour.

Almost at once, Attelus, Goruan and the Throne Agent leapt the gap, and thanks to the cover fire, they landed safely.

Attelus activated his sword in a blaze of blue as the Throne Agent's Thunder Hammer became eclipsed in a white, crackling haze, and Goruan spun his Catachan Fang.

The three of them then started to slay. The Throne Agent's Thunder Hammer was a slow, ponderous weapon that swept side-to-side, each swing killing at least three or four zombies at a time. Each hit either thoroughly pulped torsos and skulls or threw zombies away, limp and lifeless.

By contrast, Goruan's Catachan fang sliced and spun in his huge hand, switching from forehand to reverse grip and hand-to-hand with an almost beautiful deftness that contradicted his size. No blow was anything but precise and deadly, and he wasted not an ounce of energy. The zombies reeled from his onslaught as he cut through them.

But neither held a shade on Attelus; his blade was a blur even to his eyes as his sword mowed through the horde. Dozens died at his hand in the span of a few split-seconds, and the power field instantly evaporated any black bile. He decapitated, bisected, and diced through torsos using every type of cut he knew and snarled and growled despite needing no strength behind the blows. Right now, he was taking all his pent-up anger and frustration from the last 24 hours out on the Plague Zombies, and it felt frigging good. He also hoped Satiristine was watching him and was impressed with his speed and skill.

So lost in his slaughter, Attelus barely noticed the rest of the group lunging across the gap behind him until they stepped beside him, and their guns began their onslaught.

With the pressure gone, Attelus realised how hard it was to breathe and fought to keep from collapsing. Then a vast hand eclipsed his shoulder; it was Goruan who grinned down at him.

'By the Emperor, kid. Remind me to never mess with ya!'

Attelus couldn't verbalise a response through his gasping. He wanted to shrug, but the Catachan's huge paw seemed to weigh his whole form to the floor.

'Ya did well, kid. But we've still got a long way to go yet.'

Attelus fought the urge to roll his eyes. Now, that was the understatement of the millennia.

Dellenger, Delathasi, and Darrance led the way, and it was when they were a good thirty kilometres from the city that the five Stormtroopers appeared in the underbrush. Their cameleoline armour switched off, showing their black armour and burgundy fatigues. Dellenger had a good idea of their position when they were about fifteen metres away, but he allowed them to believe their concealment was effective, just in case.

One of them approached and redundantly held up a junior rosette.

'We are here on the orders of the Interrogator, sir,' he said through the vox-enhanced grill on his helmet's rebreather.

Dellenger wasn't sure who he was referring to, but Darrance stepped forward.

'Good job...sergeant,' said Darrance, blatantly reading the Stormtrooper's pins. 'The others are only a few minutes behind, and remember, one's a Space Marine of the Raven Guard.'

They all straightened for a second before recovering their discipline with admirable speed. 'The Interrogator neglected to mention that, sir.'

Darrance shrugged and looked over his shoulder. 'I guessed, sergeant, hence why I told you. Where is the ship?'

'About twenty metres behind us, sir,' said the Stormtrooper with a wave of his thumb. 'Be careful. You might walk right into it.'

Darrance snorted. 'Don't you worry about us. You should be more careful about making statements like that, sergeant.'

The Stormtrooper sergeant straightened again. 'I-is that a threat, sir?'

'No, no, just a...recommendation not to underestimate us.'

The sergeant exchanged glances with his colleagues, his bemusement obvious even to Dellenger's eyes. It took him a good few seconds to reply as if choosing his words very carefully.

'I...of course, sir. My apologies. Please bang seven times against the hull, and you'll be let in.'

'Good, thank you,' said Darrance, and they began on, and it wasn't long before Delathasi said.

'You can be such an arsehole.'

'No, Delathasi, remember, I am still your master. So it's still "you can be such an arsehole, master."'

Despite himself, Dellenger couldn't help but laugh alongside Delathasi.

They didn't walk far before Dellenger noticed the slight shimmer through the trees, and he couldn't help but stop in his tracks.

How did Draven get such advanced technology? Dellenger had never seen such an effective cloaking at such a large scale before. Could it be...Xenos?

'Dellenger?' said Delathasi. Both she and Darrance had stopped a few metres ahead and were looking at him.

'Can't you see it?' said Dellenger.

'See...it?' said Darrance. 'You mean the ship?'

Dellenger walked past the assassins and up to the shimmering, then placed a palm against it.

Maybe with this ship, they had a fighting chance? Although, Dellenger had no idea what they could do from here on out.

But that wasn't up to him now, was it? A fact Dellenger was more than grateful for. He thought back to his conversation with Tathe. How the Commissar would have to bear the weight of ordering their friends and comrades to their deaths, as much as Adrassil would miss the countless names and faces, he...

Dellenger shook away the thought: Did he just refer to himself as Adrassil? How long had it been since he did that?

'Uhh, Dellenger,' said Darrance, knocking Dellenger back to reality. He snatched his hand back. 'Are you alright?'

'Yeah, yeah, sorry,' said Dellenger, but he didn't turn to face them. 'I'm just amazed at how effective...the cloaking shield is.'

A long pause seemed to proclaim Delathasi's and Darrance's scepticism at Dellenger's lie.

'Are you sure you're alright, Dellenger?' said Darrance. 'I do not know you terribly well, but from what I know of you, this distracted mindset seems not like you.'

Keeping his back to them, Dellenger frowned but said nothing.

Darrance sighed. 'Hmm, I guess after everything you've been through, I cannot blame you. But you have to stop allowing this mindset rule you or else-'

'Or else what?' Dellenger growled, still not turning to Darrance.

'Just...All that I am requesting is that you gain control of it, that is all.'

Dellenger grimaced, then smashed his fist seven times against the hull, anger driving each bash home. But it wasn't anger toward Darrance but at himself.


Now, with the Stormtroopers, Sisters, Inquisitors and the others advancing alongside Attelus, he kept out of close combat and fired his laughably redundant auto pistol along with the bolters, hellguns and Enandra's plasma pistol. Goruan shot his lasgun from the hip, and the power-armoured Throne Agent blasted his overly ornate bolt pistol. Attelus had never felt so redundant in his life; his piddling gun did very little to the undead horde, even with dumm dumms loaded compared to the bolter rounds.

The swarm of dead seemed like some sentient sea as hundreds of zombies would flood forward only to be mercilessly cut down by the Sister's disciplined deluges. Among the horde were a few Sisters here and there—some in power armour, some in the medical frocks of hospitallers. Enandra's plasma pistol made short work of the ones in armour. Attelus didn't dare turn to see the reaction of the Adepta Sororitas at this revelation and their emotions at having to kill their own. Attelus couldn't help but feel a certain sense of smug satisfaction that the Sisters' "faith" wouldn't protect them from the disease. Attelus had no idea what to make of this feeling besides the fact that he was an arsehole. But he certainly didn't want to see Satiristine among their number. The thought made him fight the urge to check back on her.

They'd made it down three stories in fifteen minutes—fifteen minutes of absolute nonstop fighting. It reminded Attelus of Sarkeath, except this enemy was mindless and inhumanly tough, and Attelus certainly did not want to fight them in close combat.

Then there was the moaning! The constant cacophony of frigging moaning somehow managed to rise above the blasting of gunfire. It drilled into his temples and penetrated so deep into his throbbing skull that it seemed to hurt the top of his spine. Attelus wished beyond wish that it'd stop, but he'd never ever be so lucky. Attelus wouldn't mind it if his eardrums exploded or something along those lines; he'd cope with the agony just to shut out that damned noise! Faleaseen could just heal him later, anyway.

They managed to reach the top of the next staircase, leaving a trail of countless torn-apart, squished zombies behind them. Their corpses squelched beneath the power-armoured boots. Attelus would use his inhuman dexterity to manoeuvre between the bodies without breaking stride, and he didn't dare step on them just in case. By contrast, Goruan didn't seem to care.

If Attelus had hoped there'd be fewer zombies down the stairs, his hopes would've been dashed, but he'd learned long ago the truth of the Imperial proverb, "Hope is the first step on the road to disappointment." The doors swung open to reveal more zombies swarming at the bottom of the staircase. Most of them were kneeling, hunched over, and seemed to be eating. But they quickly seemed to sense them and began to stand.

Attelus pulled out three frag grenades from his pouch, voxed, 'Fire in the hole,' primed them, and threw them into the writhing morass. The resulting crump of explosions sent dozens of zombies reeling and scattering in their advancing. Then the bolters roared back to life, tearing asunder countless more into bursts of rancid, dark green liquid. Attelus didn't even bother to shoot alongside them; his pistol made little difference, and he was down to his last four clips—three of manstoppers, one of dumm dumms.

That made Attelus wonder how much ammunition did the others have? How far would they get when they had to fight with rifle butts, bayonets and swords? Attelus didn't even want to think about that. What he wouldn't give for Kalakor to teleport here and teleport them out, but the Sisters would likely try to kill him for using witchcraft.

Emphasis on "try".

The concentrated fire quickly left the bottom of the staircase filled with countless torn, sundered zombie corpses, so much so that Attelus couldn't help but be concerned they'd have to waste precious time digging through the bodies.

'Advance,' Enandra yelled over the vox, and they began downwards, their shots tearing apart any zombies that dared to writhe into view.

Then Attelus' vox-bead beeped, and he and the rest of Enandra's Throne Agents activated their channels almost as one.

'Mamzel Inquisitor!' came the voice of the captain of the Audacious Edge, whose name Attelus had forgotten yet again. 'I have bad news.'

'Yes, I supposed that would be the case,' said Enandra, as deadpanned as can be. 'In situations like this, there is usually only bad news; report it, then, please, captain.'

'We have been keeping track of the enemy Thunder Hawks are approaching your position faster than we initially calculated. They'll be on you in only fifteen minutes. My apologies, mamzel Inquisitor, I do not how we managed to frig that up.'

Enandra sighed, and Attelus couldn't help but frown.

'For frig's sake, thank you for the warning, captain. Anything else that isn't quite as bad?'

'Uhh, Interrogator Karkin requested the stealth ship to him on the surface, and I gave the permission to do so,' said the captain. 'It has landed, and the Interrogator and his people have made rendezvous. I could get him, his last Guncutter and your drop ship to rendezvous and fight the enemy Thunder hawks, mamzel.'

Finally, the combined fire managed to clear enough room and at the wave of the hand of Enandra, they began advancing again.

Attelus began pondering on that, now they had one more craft they could make a difference, but he doubted it.

Enandra was silent, and Attelus could imagine her placing her finger on her chin, thinking it over like him.

'Mamzel?' said the captain. 'We are running out of time.'

'No,' said Enandra, sounding almost like a casual purr, as if it wasn't a decision that was intrinsic to their survival, even if he agreed with it. I will not put Arlathan, his team, and his mission at risk. It is still essential, and they will not get here in time to prevent the enemy from landing and disgorging their horrific cargo. So, no. We are alone, for now.'

'Are...are you sure, mamzel?' said the captain.

'Of course,' said Enandra.

'U...understood, may the Emperor be with you, mamzel Inquisitor.'

'Thank you, captain. That would be nice, and we will likely need it. Anyway, hopefully we'll see you soon.'

'So,' said Hadrel while blasting his dual high calibre stubb revolvers, having apparently run out of ammo for his autogun. 'What in all the frigging hells do we do now?'

'Hmm,' said Enandra as she shot another zombie sister with her plasma pistol. 'I don't know yet. Let me think it over. Attelus might have a good idea or two; he's done well so far.'

Attelus couldn't help but smile as a flush of pride filled his chest. Just a second later, Attelus heard it: more bolter fire coming from the level below.



'Alright,' said Arlathan as he paced around the meeting room, his finger placed against his micro-bead. 'Got you. Yes, thanks, over and out.'

'What's happening?' said Tathe, and Dellenger nodded. Like everyone else, he didn't dare glance at his comrade; his attention was plastered on the Interrogator.

Arlathan sighed. 'It's bad. All of it.'

'Yes, we got that impression, Karkin,' said Darrance. 'Please do elaborate, now.'

'Yeah, yeah, I will, Darrance!' Arlathan snapped, making Dellenger blink. 'Dammit, I'm just trying to find where to begin, it's...complicated.'

Dellenger expected someone to make a snarky comment, especially Darrance, but no one said a thing.

In the silence, the Interrogator kept pacing. He seemed to stew in uncertainty before Arlathan sighed again, stopped moving, and shook his head.

'That was the captain of the Audacious Edge, and he's been in contact with the Inquisitor...'

'And?' said who might've been the Stormtrooper sergeant, Kollath.

'And...and it seems all of the sick people in the Adepta Sororitas coven have turned into plague zombies and have slaughtered most of the Sisters. Enandra is leading a force in an attempt to escape down into those mysterious caves beneath the surface.'

'Attelus? What about Attelus?' said Karmen, the panic in her voice obvious even to Dellenger's ears.

‘Attelus is fine, Karmen. He's just fine. He's fighting beside Enandra as we speak. I thought that would go without saying.'

'The more important question that I, of course, have to be the one to ask is what about the whole reason we initially came to this wretched world. Inquisitor Soloston, what is his condition?' said Kalakor.

Arlathan flinched. 'I...neglected to ask.'

Kalakor let out what might've been a growl, a groan, or a sigh or anything in between but said nothing more, and Kollath burst out a laugh.

'It is okay, Arlathan,' said Karmen. 'After what we'd just been through, it is understandable to make such an error.'

'And we can't risk establishing communication again,' said Vex. 'Good job, Interrogator.'

'Shut it, Vex! If you disrespect me one more time, I'll break your damn jaw!'

There was another silence, but this one was much shorter as Darrance sighed and said, 'That's not all of it, is it?'

'No, no, it's frigging not. It's not just hordes of zombies trying to eat them alive, but four Thunder Hawk gunships are converging on the coven and are going to be there soon.'

Dellenger couldn't help but glance at Kalakor; that'd explain why there were no Plague Marines inside the Land Raider beside the driver, and Kalakor's theory was proven correct.

Darrance whistled. 'gak, it just keeps escalating and escalating.'

'It always frigging does,' Dellenger couldn't help interject. 'We have both this ship and the Guncutter. We can-'

'No, Inquisitor Enandra ordered us to not interfere,' said Arlathan.

'Why?' said Delathasi, the bemusement in her voice so palpable Dellenger could swirl it in his mouth.

'Because, young Delathasi, our mission is too important. We will not be able to arrive in time to prevent the Thunder Hawks from landing. We just have to just place our faith in Enandra, Attelus, and the others.'

'Yes,' said Karmen before anyone else could argue. 'Yes, we must, Interrogator.'

There was another silence.

'If we can't help Attelus and company,' said Tathe, 'and with our mission back in the city turned into a frigging mess, what do we do now?'

Arlathan smiled and tapped his temple with an index finger. 'Oh don't you worry, good Commissar. I know exactly what we'll do now. I have a plan.'

'And what is that?' said Kollath. 'I hope it's a thing that starts with "E" and ends with "S" and rhymes with...with...us?'

'No,' groaned Arlathan as he wiped his face with a palm. 'And even if I wanted to order an Exterminatus, we are not in the position to do it! So, can you please stop bringing it the frig up?'

'Alright, fine,' sighed Kollath.

'Alright, fine, what? Kollath.'

'Alright, fine, sir,' said Kollath. It was obvious the Stormtrooper was saying it through gritted teeth. Dellenger couldn't understand their dislike; they never seemed to get along.

'So, Interrogator man, what's the plan, then?' said Darrance.

'And it better be a frigging good one,' Tathe muttered under his breath, which drew Arlathan's narrowed gaze his way.

'It's good, Tathe. Believe me. Now let me explain...'

Despite their pace hastened by the sound of bolter fire, It still took them far too long to reach the bottom of the staircase. The plague zombies seemed to fill the corridor more than ever before; it was as if, to Attelus' morbid imagination, the horde was controlled by something, and that something was trying its frigging hardest to keep them from finding who else that could've been.

The numbers that raged against the Sister's constant, disciplined deluges of bolter fire were of such intensity because the power-armoured Throne Agent had fallen back to guard the rear, and Attelus and Goruan were forced into close combat twice. Attelus cut down a few dozen zombies with his power sword before they were pushed back. But that didn't prevent three Stormtroopers and two Sisters of Battle from being dragged to their dooms by inhumanly strong, cold, clawing fingers. Neither of those sisters was Satiristine, thank the Emperor. It was becoming more and more obvious that in close-quarters combat, having the high ground wasn't much of an advantage, especially against an endless horde.

A flamer or two, or even better, a heavy flamer or two, would've been a frigging Emperor-send right now. It was frigging stupid that they didn't have one right now, even though the Adepta Sororitas were infamous for liberal use of weaponry. In all honesty, the Emperor wasn't doing a good job protecting his most faithful today. Attelus Kaltos being excluded, of course; perhaps that was why the Emperor wasn't protecting? That'd make a frig-ton of sense, in all honesty.

It was just about when they were stepping on flat ground that Attelus' autopistol clicked dry. He'd run out of dumm dumms, but that didn't matter as through the almost endless press of countless green bodies a good thirty metres away, Attelus glimpsed the flash of a bolter and at least two black power armoured figures.

'gak! We've got some survivors,' Attelus roared over the din.

'Yes, we have already managed to figure that out, you little fool!' snarled the Canoness.

Attelus couldn't help but clench his teeth and growl a muffled, frustrated growl. Emperor, damn it, the old hag was a bitch!

'Yeah, frigging, yeah, I am aware of that! But I saw them, and in any second, they might be overwhelmed!'

The Canoness growled and said, 'So, what-'

'Cover me!' Attelus roared. Then he slid the distance, and his horizontal slice bisected the skull of the nearest lunging zombie. Ignoring the yells at his back, Attelus again began to slay his way through the countless zombies.

'Frigging damn it, Attelus!' Enandra screamed. 'Damn it, give the little fool supporting fire! Selva now is the time to use your powers!'

Gunfire tore through the horde around Attelus as the zombies came for him as if instinctively knowing a lone fighter's weakness. But even though his whole body ached and shook with exhaustion, Attelus was no normal lone fighter. He had the support of some of the most elite warriors in the Imperium of Mankind. He also hoped that he might draw some attention away from the almost overwhelmed Sisters.

Attelus decapitated a zombie and sliced through the chest of another with the reverse stroke. He cleaved diagonally through the skull of a third. Then his lightning-fast figure eight tore through at least four more. The jagged, glowing, smoking parts collapsed and became lost among the crowd. There would've been no way in hell that Attelus could have done this with a standard sword; even a monomolecular-enhanced blade would have struggled. Yet again, Attelus thanked Estella Erith for giving him the beautiful weapon back on Omnartus. But yet again, he was reminded how much of a crutch a power weapon can be.

The shadow swept up in the corner of his eye, and Attelus spun sword slicing, but he stopped; Goruan grinned at him as his Catachan Fang spun and cut out like snake strikes.

'Don't think I'd let ya face the horde alone, did ya kid?'

Attelus' reply was a shrug and a pursing of his lips; he did, actually, and he wouldn't blame the Catachan if he did, in all honesty.

Side by side, Attelus and Goruan slowly fought their way to the Sisters. As much as it was anathema to his philosophy as a swordsman and to his very being, Attelus adopted the power-armoured Throne Agent's technique with his Thunder Hammer: Attelus sent out vast, sweeping, horizontal and diagonal arcs with his power sword, cutting down at least two at a time. It was a massive expenditure of energy, especially without the aid of powered armour, but under these circumstances, he didn't have much choice.

Attelus clenched his teeth. At this rate, there was no way in the warp they'd be able to make it to the stranded sisters in time! It was then Attelus glimpsed the undead, power-armoured Sister coming their way, and an idea hit him so hard he blinked. With a shaking hand, Attelus activated his micro-bead.

'Everyone! On my order, I need you to focus your fire so Goruan can retreat back to you!'

'What?' said the Canoness. 'What gives you-'

Before she could continue his rant, Attelus cut the link and looked at Goruan; the confusion on his face seemed etched there.

'Please, just trust me,' said Attelus. 'I have a plan.'

Goruan frowned but soon nodded. 'I guess I'll place my faith in ya, kid. Good luck in what ya plannin' on doin'.'

Attelus nodded back, roared out 'Now!' with all his rage and frustration and unleashed his energy into a barrage of slashes that reduced every plague zombie for a good metre and a half into ribbons. It was so sudden and intense that even Goruan flinched.

Then, Attelus slipped through the opening for the Sister Zombie. She lunged for him with surprising speed, claw-tipped fingers flying for his throat. With ease, Attelus weaved aside it and, with a short, sharp slash, sliced her head from her shoulders. Taking a page out of Elandria's book, Attelus pivoted into a spin; he spun not once but twice; he would've liked to spin more, but he couldn't risk it with horde closing back on him and fast. Then he sent a sidekick with all his strength and weight and gathered momentum behind it against the zombie sister's chest plate.

He couldn't help but cry out through clenched teeth as agony sprouted from his foot to his hip, but much to his relief, the corpse was smashed back and crashed into the zombies behind it, sending them either stumbling off-balance or writhing to the floor. Ignoring the pain as he placed his kicking foot back down, Attelus slashed down several more zombies that'd stumbled his way and then exploded into a charge. The zombie sister's body was still being held up by the bodies below it, allowing Attelus to lung onto it and then leap into the air above the heads of the zombies still surrounding the Sisters, making their last stand.

Attelus seemed to fly for a few seconds and got a good view of the Adepta Sororitas below. Four of them had their backs to the wall, and all of them were reduced to using their bolt pistols. All of them were wounded and exhausted. He instantly recognised the Palantine; she was bleeding from a cut across her forehead, and her left arm hung loosely at her side. One had a flamer hanging from a strap over her shoulder. Obviously, it'd run dry, and that might've been how they managed to fight their way here from the dungeons below.

Before he hit the ground, Attelus sliced through the head of a zombie that'd managed to push its way through the wall of shots and was near to grabbing one of the Sisters. Then he landed, and he rolled with the impact, but it didn't negate the pain that bashed up his leg much, making him growl. Kneeling, Attelus sliced through the hips of the nearest zombie, then he stood and became a desperate whirlwind of slashes that forced the horde of undead to flow away. It seemed his crazy, stupid plan worked. Attelus only hoped it didn't cause Goruan to get dragged down and eaten alive.

It was then they finally noticed him.

'Throne Agent Kaltos?' cried the Palantine. 'Where in the God-Emperor's name did you come from?'

'Above!' Attelus managed to say. 'Literally and figuratively!'

'You did not manage to fight all the way down here by yourself, did you?' exclaimed another Sister through her gasps.

Attelus wanted to tell them everything they desperately needed to advance toward Enandra's group and rendezvous. Still, he was too busy fighting back the closing waves of green, groaning undead. Never had he been so hard-pressed before, not even against Kharkartskar.

He couldn't keep this up for much longer! So, he spent all this time and effort helping a bunch of women he barely knew, who would likely burn him at the stake, smiling, if they found out who he truly was, only to be overwhelmed and consumed alongside them. Yet again, Attelus had proven how idiotic he was and his...

Saviour complex, the words echoed through his thoughts in the voice of Inquisitor Drevan. At least Attelus would come back from his agonising death.

Or at least he hoped.

Then the shadow crossed over them, and Attelus had to fight back the sudden shock of terror as he realised what it was; if he weren't too busy fighting for his life, he would've screamed. It swept past the length of the convent. It halted behind the vast stained glass window, allowing Attelus to get a good look at the sickeningly green, pustule-covered, horribly mutated Thunder Hawk hovering in the bright blue sky. On the left side, it had a mouth, A frigging grinning maw with bloated lips that sloughed open revealing blunt, brown teeth and rotten black gums.

'No!' said one of the Sisters. 'No! God-Emperor, no!'

Then the Thunder Hawk swung forward, smashing its nose through the stained glass window, utterly shattering a piece of art that must've been centuries old. The heavy bolter turrets then opened fire.



Hayden stood from his cot and began to pace his cell again. He shook across his every inch now, and along with it, his gut seemed to shiver sickeningly. But yet, it felt amazing, beyond amazing; it was...a sensation Hayden couldn't begin to describe. He-he was-

+That is just a small taste of the pleasures you will be given in the service to my master.+

Along with that voice, the feeling left him, and Hayden gasped. Beyond anything, he wanted to fall to his knees and beg it to bring it back! But Hayden used all his will to suppress the notion. He was beyond such frivolities.

+Ahh, such willpower. Such a powerful self-control, you will surely make a great servant-+

I am no servant, growled Hayden, fighting to keep himself from screaming. I no longer serve anyone or anything. I am tired...tired of "serving" frig it.

+Of course you are. Of course, you are. A most understandable sentiment, Hayden. Tell me then, what do you wish to serve?+

Myself said Hayden without a second's hesitation. Frig the Imperium. Frig the Inquisition. Frig everything. It can...it can...

+It can what, Hayden? It can what?+

Hayden swallowed. He was going to say it could all burn, as far as I'm concerned, but he wasn't about to go that far—not yet, anyway.

Never mind.

+Yes, Hayden. Yes. It is excellent that you mention you wish to serve yourself because by doing what you want, you also serve my master. That's right. That's right. As long as you do it in their name.+

I'm not stupid, daemon. I know exactly who and what you and your master are. The...sensation you showed me emphasised this.

+It was absolutely wonderful, was it not? But Hayden, Hayden, Hayden, I never thought you were stupid. Never, never, ever. On the contrary, in fact. You are very intelligent and articulate. Very...very.+

Hayden smirked. Intelligent and articulate...for a mortal.

+No, no. Not true, please do not think of me that way, Hayden. Please. I am on your side. I am your friend. Friend.+

Then, its laughter echoed in Hayden's brain.

What is so funny, daemon?

+It is funny. Amusing, so very amusing that you know exactly what I am, but yet do not scream canticles or trite lines such as "begone warp scum" or, "I shall not treat with a beast of the warp". That, along with your wish to serve no one but yourself, means you are amenable. Amenable to what I have to say.+

Despite everything, Hayden grinned. I am, daemon. I am more than amenable.

The horribly high-yield bolter rounds blended countless undead as the shots chewed their way. Attelus knew there was nothing they could do. If they dived for safety, it would allow the hordes to overwhelm and consume them. But the bolt rounds were soon to pulp them.

There was only one way out of this...

‘Faleaseen!’ Attelus couldn't help but scream from his every inch.

+Yes, I am here, Attelus, and you are lucky I have regained most of my strength!+

There was no time to think or consider the consequences. There was no choice in the matter. Like the last time, back on Omnartus, the kine shield erupted from Attelus like a sphere-shaped explosion. The blast expanded in a good three-metre diameter, and any zombie caught in it was suddenly sliced into ribbons by ultra-fine slashes of telekinesis. The bolt rounds exploded against the surface, consuming several undead who escaped the all-consuming kine shield. Attelus couldn’t help but blink in shock at how large they were.

+Attelus! I will hold this shield up as long as possible. But remember! As it drains my power, it also drains your energy. You have ten of your minutes!+

Attelus remembered well when Faleaseen had used the shield back on Omnartus. He’d spent a good time unable to move afterwards. That would be the worst possible thing that could happen right now.

‘Attelus!’ Enandra snapped over the vox-link. ‘What in the Emperor's name was that?’

Before Attelus could reply, the heavy bolter shots died away, and the Thunder Hawk’s front hatch swung open.

‘What in the god-emperor’s name is happening now?’ sighed the Palantine in quite possibly the most exasperated tone Attelus had ever heard.

Then, five Plague Marines dropped out, and their bolters opened up. The Thunder Hawk swung away and flew out of sight. The Plague Marines then began their slow, dogged advance, the hordes sweeping out of their way to make a path.

‘gak!’ Attelus cried. ‘gak! gak! gak!’

‘Damn it, Attelus, you-’

‘Now isn’t the frigging time, mamzel!’ Attelus roared. ‘We need to rendezvous and get to the tunnels and frigging now!’

To her credit, Enandra shut up, and Attelus looked at the Palantine. Their gazes met, and where he expected fear, or rage or something similar, yet much to his shock, she seemed to be gaping in abstract awe. Attelus just wished he could remember her damned name.

‘Come on!’ he snarled through clenched teeth. ‘We’ve got to get back to your Canoness and the others. They aren’t far away!’

The wide-eyed woman nodded rapidly. ‘My apologies. We-’

‘There’s no time!’ Attelus bawled. ‘Just follow me!’

He didn’t wait for a response as he slipped by her and toward Enandra and company. The shield followed him, cutting through more of the horde as he moved, and the Sisters hastily followed. Their bolter pistols barked sporadically into the crowd as the Plague Marine’s shots exploded against Faleaseen’s shield.

It didn’t take long for them to reach Enandra and the others. Faleaseen opened the shield, allowing Attelus to approach them and inside the bubble, and they began back toward the stairs downward. Their numbers were a few less, but Satiristine was still standing, much to Attelus’ relief. But much to his annoyance, many of the Sisters were gaping at him with wide eyes, just like the Palantine.

‘It’s a miracle,’ said Satiristine.

‘No. No, it is not,’ said Soloston. His brow furrowed over his glasses, but whether it was in anger or concentration, Attelus couldn't know. ‘It is merely a kine shield. A most powerful one, certainly, but it is just a psychic power. No miracle.’

Beside Soloston, Selva seethed like he’d never seen before, and her eyes kept shooting to and from Enandra. Who glared at Attelus, too, her jaw twitching.

‘The strange thing is that until now, I did not sense any psychic potential from you, boy. Why is that?’ said Soloston.

‘None of your frigging business!’ Attelus yelled. He dearly wanted to insist that it was a miracle to try to get the Sisters more on his side, but his whole being seemed to rebel against saying such a lie.

‘I would-’

‘Just shut up! Now is not the time, Inquisitor! We have to keep moving and-’

The Throne Agent then began storming Attelus’ way. The rage in the Throne Agent’s stride was obvious even beneath the battered golden ceramite as he rolled his Thunder Hammer in his gauntleted hands. Attelus frowned and readied his power sword, but Goruan’s palm placing on the Throne Agent’s chest plate stopped him.
‘Everyone! If we run now, we-’

Agony suddenly pierced his brain, causing Attelus to cry out, waver, and then fall to his knees. Blood burst from his eyes and nose and rolled down his face as he clutched at his skull for all the good it would do. Was this a mind-spear? Was it Soloston? His thoughts screamed through the pain.

+Attelus!+ Faleaseen cried. +That is not from Inquisitor Soloston but from Selva! I’m sorry I cannot help you. I must keep the shield up!+

Attelus couldn’t begin to reply as Selva and Enandra approached him. The glassy rage in Enandra's eyes was beyond belief. Attelus wanted to shriek that now was the worst time for this!

‘You are not just working with the Eldar, are you?’ said Enandra.

‘Please!’ Attelus cried. ‘Please.’

‘You were never enhanced by the Adeptus Mechanicus. But the Eldar did it to you, didn’t they? And you were like this when I met you, so you have been their literal puppet since the beginning, then. Is that right, Attelus? Admit the truth, and the pain may stop.’

‘Y-yes,’ Attelus couldn't help but cry out through a wall of teeth.

‘This boy is in collaboration with the perfidious Eldar?’ said Soloston.

‘Heretic!’ snarled the Canoness, who stomped up to Attelus and punched him in the face. More pain crashed through him and sent him to the floor.

‘Enough!’ yelled Enandra with such force the Canoness stopped. ‘I know that you knew how Torathe died, Attelus. A secret I, and many others, took much pain to keep. The Eldar showed you this, didn’t they?’

Attelus didn’t answer. He had just begun the war to get back to his feet, but another spear of agony blasted into his head, making him writhe on the stone floor.

‘She did,’ he yelled. ‘She did, please. We-we.’

‘Who’s she?’

‘F-Faleaseen. Farseer Fa...ahhh!’

‘Good, good to finally know the extent of your lies, Attelus Xanthis Kaltos,’ said Enandra.

Attelus and rolled on the floor. Then, an armoured fist smashed against his jaw.

‘Hurry it up, now,’ said Goruan. ‘The damned Plague Marines are still coming for us, and they’re not too far..’

‘I don’t think I can trust you any more, Attelus,’ said Enandra. ‘What else have you been lying about? What really happened on Sarkeath? How much did you and Karmen collaborate in the lie?’

Attelus couldn’t reply, his mind being in so much pain.

‘Fine, we’ll find the answers later,’ said Enandra. ‘Please restrain him.’

‘What?’ cried the Canoness. ‘He is a heretic! He should be executed right here and now!’

‘No, this shield is an excellent boon,’ said Soloston. ‘And if we kill him, we might lose it. If it is an Eldar Farseer who controls it and they have not brought it down, it means they have some value in their puppet. Which interests me.’

‘Is...this is...it?’ gasped Attelus as a pair of Stormtroopers approached. ‘After everything I’ve done in your service...Jelcine.’

‘You have no longer have any right to use my first name, any more, former Throne Agent Kaltos. And...yes.’

‘Well...frig you...then,’ said Attelus as he flicked his wrist for a throwing knife and before anyone could react, he threw it into Selva’s throat.

As the psyker collapsed, gurgling, and all attention swung to her, Attelus was back on his feet and sprinting.

Straight for the five Plague Marines.

+What are you doing?+ Faleaseen roared.

Bolt rounds and hell rounds briefly rained Attelus’ way before being deflected by the shield. Then came the bolter shots.

If you want me free from a cell and not to become an experiment for the next few millennia, this is the only way. I have to die, and I can die helping them escape-

+You are going to sacrifice yourself for them? After that?+

‘Well, it’ll be temporary.’

Attelus glanced over his shoulder. Enandra and the others were back, surrounded by undead and too busy fighting for their lives to cause him more trouble. Satiristine was still alive, much to his relief. He’d killed Selva; he couldn’t wrap his head around that. He’d killed her for a few reasons: first, to stop the agony. Second, as a distraction, but most of all, because she was a bitch. Killing her would've been probably the most callous kill in his career so far.

Even murder, perhaps? But she’d just tortured him, so frig it!

The shield hit the five Plague Marines. The thousands of telekinetic cuts sliced against their green-bloated armour, gouging into it like it was cutting through flesh. Blackish green bile poured from the wounds but it didn’t seem to hurt the freaks at all. Bolter rounds flew his way, and instantly, Attelus was forced into desperate dodging and weaving through the staccato. Attelus knew he couldn’t win or even kill one of them; all he had to do was hold them off.

+You only have eight minutes remaining, Attelus,+ Faleaseen warned.

Attelus just hoped a bolt round would kill him as that messy, explosive death was far better than the alternative.

Far, far better. Attelus just hoped his sacrifice was worth it.



‘We should have ignored her order,’ said Ulysses his deep voice eclipsed the small cockpit along with his bulk. Ulysses was a dark-skinned man who’d been perhaps one of the longest-serving of Enandra's retinue. Thick dreadlocks rose from his scalp; his large brown eyes were glazed and wide with anger. He wore a flak armour chest plate, but his vast corded arms were bare.

‘No, we should not have,’ said Arlathan.

‘We could have saved her,’ said the pilot. ‘We could have saved them!’

‘No, we could not have.’

‘You cannot know that,’ said Ulysses.

‘Yes, but Enandra knew.’

‘Oh, for Emperor's sake, get your tongue out of her arse and-’

‘Don’t say another word more, Ulysses.’

Ulysses shut up, but his leather-gloved hands kept snapping open and closed.

‘We still have a mission to complete,’ said Arlathan. ‘One that if we fail, it is becoming more and more clear that has such far-reaching consequences. Consequences that endangers not just this gak hole of a world but the entire Calixis Sector, all of us are expendable in achieving it, Ulysses. Even the Inquisitor.’

Ulysses shook his head. ‘A mission which is making us do stupid, ill-prepared plans?’

Arlathan shrugged. ‘I would like to see you make a better plan in our circumstances.’

The pilot seemed to think about it for a good few seconds before sighing and saying, ‘Yeah, guess I can’t. Well, give me some more time, and I might.’

‘Doubt it,’ said Arlathan, and he turned to leave.

‘You know I’ve been at this for a long time,’ said Ulysses, making Arlathan stop and turn back. ‘I’ve only been the “Pilot” most of the time, but I still don’t understand how we can do this.’

‘Because we have to,’ said Arlathan.

‘And what about you?’

‘What about me?’

‘Your world died because of this gak. Your whole world.’

‘It did...’

‘And that is because of that Attelus character.’

Arlathan frowned. ‘No, the kid was just a pawn in that atrocity. It was all because of that bastard Etuarq. He manipulated it, all of it.’

‘So you’ve forgiven the boy, then?’

‘I...I don’t know, Ulysses. Never even thought about that, to be honest.’

‘No matter what, he does take some responsibility,’ said Ulysses. ‘Twenty billion lives lost, forever.’

‘I know. I more than frigging know. Look, I don’t know where you’re going with this, but I know that when gak went bad, the kid stepped up. Back on Omnartus, he saved all of us, temporarily sure, but he saved the planet by fighting through horrible daemonic entities. While I just fainted and gak my pants. I may be an arsehole, but now I’m an arsehole who’s at least trying to be less of an arsehole because of that kid. For all his faults, I think Attelus is a good kid, and I think he’s shown that time and time again.’

Ulysses frowned. ‘Is he still, though? Even after he’d spent that time on a corrupted world? Him, and many others out there, do you still believe that?’

Arlathan pinned his gaze to Ulysses’, and the words spilt out of his mouth before he could think. ‘I do. I do still believe that.’

Then he left, but Ulysses didn’t try to stop him this time.