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The New Word

Synopsis

Hi there, my name is Mithami, I am new here as you can probably tell, I've been writing for a couple of years now, nothing serious, just for fun. So I thought I'd come over here and share some fiction with you, hopefully get some feedback, and make some new acquaintances and so on.

I think the longest running story I've ever done was An Infinite Circuitry of Fate(It's on 40k online, my username is MyenTal there, I can't post a link just yet because the site seems to be down for the moment, will post when I can, if anyone's interested.), that's around eight pages now. I'm not too good with writing short stories, I like being able have the space to work out a plot and so on, doesn't mean I'll post walls of text or anything :P, I tend to post short pieces of a longer plot.

Anyway, I can always use help, because how else are we going to grow and learn, right? So any Comments would awesome!

So let's get to it, hope you guys enjoy! :D


The New Word


Underground Metro


Lyria glanced casually out her window, watching an endless stretch of underground walls pass by in a constant blur. The metro-bus must’ve been speeding at a minimum of eighty miles per hour; she could even feel the pressure in her gut despite her power armor. The train was a silver bullet in the dimly lit darkness, engines screaming to the top of their capacity, thrusters and stabilizers constantly wobbling to keep the train in suspended motion. Occasionally, they would emerge out of the darkness and into the nightscape of Aurelia, the capital of the Hive planet Tyrannus.

Lyria cast a wary eye upon anyone in her vicinity; usually, she’d be sitting in her seat with a look of mild contempt plain on her face. Having to travel with the common citizenry often provoked such expressions, for those days she would proudly where her helm to hide it. There was no reason to in this instance, for the train was nearly empty save two dozen battle nuns of the adepta sororitas. Many of them were dressed in battle robes that one would usually don their armor over, yet they did not wear any armor. The gleam of their bolters reflected in the dim light, the initiates must’ve felt empowered by it. Lyria knew she did when experiencing her first trials, a true test of faith and courage, and a reliable analysis of one’s abilities.

A tiny smirk crossed her lips at the memories that began to surface, oh holy of holies, grant her the strength that saw her through the massacres of Dynara and Sojek. Bless her with the strength and immortal essence of St. Celestine, and reunite all mankind under the one true Imperium of man.

*****

Two years ago…

The metro-bus began to skid into a gradual halt, sliding forward for a few more kilometers before coming full stop before a station that sat atop a great vista overlooking Sojek. The Hive city awaited them like a tempting mistress, calling to them to explore every inch of its surface in a never ending adventure. She could see the estates of the nobility and the Imperial palaces reach out into a star littered night sky. She could see miles below her into the under city, the heart of villainy and corruption. There were many lights in the city and in many more different colors. It was like stepping into a fasting festival within the Order Fortress back in Aurelia. Too bad the deed of the day would be killing, stamping out anything that moved if it resembled cultists, demons, or zombies, whichever one they saw first.

“I’m itching to use this thing and crack some skulls, eh? What do you say, Lyria?” Sister Ameni’s eyes gleamed with a murderous intent that was completely acceptable, given the circumstances. Like Lyria, she too was dressed in thick emerald and white battle robes and nothing more. The pair of them looked like clerics, not initiates belonging to the Order of the Emperor’s Grace.

“I am ready.” Lyria eventually spoke, staring down at her bolter intently, inspecting every piece of it like she always had since the beginning of her training.

“Whoever dies this day, I certainly hope you two are not among them.” Sister Meril grated through her V.O.X. grill, her voice amplified by the loud speakers incorporated in her full gear of power armor.

“Peace.” Meril uttered with a raise of her hand, showing that she had not meant to disturb them. “Reflect on the battle to come, you two will be fine.”

“Holy of holies, bestow upon us the Emperor’s grace.” Ameni and Lyria both bowed their heads slightly and uttered in reverent tones.

“On your feet, Sisters! The train has stopped!” A voice called out from the other side of the train, deigning to repeat herself a second time so that she was properly heard. The air was crisp and cool; the essence of winter had touched the city, though no snow was falling outside the station. The noise of hover cars and ground vehicles disturbed the night, but could not drown out the sounds of gunfire. They were in the heart of Sojek, where that was, Lyria did not have the faintest clue, but she was here to deliver the Emperor’s will and by the golden throne she would.

“So, three dozen armed clerics and six battle sisters, not the odds I would like, but they will have to do. Move them out.” Cannoness Kari glared at the assembled battle group, if one could even call it that. She inspected each and every one of them as they marched through the gate entrance to leave the station, whispering prayers and benedictions as they all left to fight.

“The honor could be ours to fight with Canoness, just let the Emperor guide your blades and you’ll do well.” Meril laughed at the tenseness in her initiates’ posture and the hesitation in their expressions. “Do not let fear cloud your judgment now; you were all only boasting a day ago! Shall we pray as we march?”

“From the lightning and the Tempest” “Our Emperor, deliver us”

“From plague, temptation and war”

“Our Emperor, deliver us”

“From the scourge of Kraken”

“Our Emperor, deliver us”

Still two years ago…

The march had taken them from the station and deeper into Sojek’s under city where a massive battle raged. Imperial Guard of the 89th Sojek Volunteers along with elements of the 5th Conorag Bloodhounds, 7th Hammers of the Golden Throne Armored Regiment, the Oder of the Emperor’s Grace, and the Sundered Legion 3rd Company Space Marines to fend off an assault from the forces of chaos. The Thousand Sons had plagued the sector for centuries, bringing war to would be peaceful kingdoms within the Tarmathon Sector. An army of cultists have been mustered to wage war upon the surface while the Thousand Sons do whatever they please. They take part in the land invasions plaguing the hive world Tyrannus, but to what avail, no one knows.

“I am ethereal. A being of flesh as much as I am a being of imagination. I sit upon the edge of your mind, listening intently to your thoughts and telling you how to proceed with your pitiful, pathetic life. I am your heart’s true desire, the reason it beats so impulsively, all to pump fresh blood into that exhausted, limited mind of yours. Imagine me and I shall come to you, speak to me and you shall hear my whispers, Empower me with souls and see your greatest desire fulfilled upon a whim. The name I have given myself for the sake of all mortals is Nyst, a greater demon and champion of Tzeetch. Why am I so much more powerful than my kin, because I was created and shaped by twisted eldar minds that worship my lord and patron. You may sup from this cup of knowledge mortal, go ahead, it is my gift to you, take it, honestly.”

Lriean glared at the monster with disgust, observing it sitting perched atop a ruined throne, holding something very valuable to the both of them in its hands. The greater demon possessed the form of a mutated centaur, a mythological figure from the ancient days of the mon-keigh. Its lower body was covered in slimy, diamond hard reptilian scales, supported by four stubby, reptilian like feet with thick claws that looked as if they could gouge admantanium without effort and ended with a glistening tail nearly the size of Lriean himself. Upon this lower body was the form of a slender woman, her skin a pale blue that was barely visible in the ill lit darkness. Her naked upper body was hidden away between two columns of beautiful black hair coming down either side of her face.

The soulless pits of her eyes leered at him and she smiled, revealing a shark’s mouth of teeth and slithering green tongue. Nyst reached out with her humanoid arms and beckoned him to come closer. Lriean did not feel much obliged to do so, instead dropping the silver cup in his hand and raising his las-gun at the greater demon. Staring down the darkness within himself as well as this enemy without, he couldn’t help but occasionally glance at the artifact in the demon’s hands. The soul stone of Ar’ka’ram, a legendary Exarch from the artificial planet of Ulthwe, sister craftworld of his home Teyl-Jhen. How many Farseers and Autarchs would pay handsomely for that, it could be worth far more than this greater demon knew.

“If all you’re concerned about is feeding on souls, then why don’t crack that thing open and just suck it out!” Lriean hissed at the demon thing, looking ready to fire at a moment’s notice and send it back to oblivion if that were possible.

“Hmmm, mortal, I do not believe you actually understand your peril, but alas, maybe I’ll oblige you.” Nyst snarled in her many voices voice, appearing unsatisfied with the reaction from the eldar dressed in loose Imperial fatigues.

The greater demon slowly raised the thing to her mouth, staring at the jewel longingly for a moment, contemplating exactly what future would play out with certain consequences. Cautiously, like a dog partially biting into food it doesn’t particularly like, she cracked the stone with a powerful bite. A demonic roar erupted from her throat the likes that Lriean had never heard before, roaring with satisfaction as the soul within the stone cried out for the last time, evaporating into Nyst’s very being. Without much thought, she cast the stone before the eldar’s feet, nodding her approval as it shattered against cold steel.

“I shall part for a time, mortal; perhaps we shall meet again when you are more sensible? Keep the cup; it is a gift, honestly.”

Lazily, Nyst rose to her feet, hissing at the eldar as a passing warning as she faded away into mist. “Ashes and Dust, Lriean, I am ethereal, you are but the former.” Lriean kneeled down to pick up the shattered fragments of the soul stone, letting it fall through his fingers before sighing hopelessly. He inspected the ruins around him; they were dank, dark, and foreboding, but none of that had deterred him from arriving in the city of Sojek and finding this subterranean ruin deep within the bowels of the hive city. The cultists that had originally been here had let the place fall to ruin; many of the light fixtures had been busted and flickering in and out of existence, many of the walls had been caved in during the warfare that this place had saw probably years ago.

Why a throne appeared at the end of this chamber was beyond him, this was no longer an age of kings, but one of governors and palaces. He studied the place where Nyst had been laying only a moment before, the Eldar had attempted to dethrone her from her position of power more than once. Just another reason he had come seeking something as important as soul stones in the area. Of course, it wasn’t the only treasure worth discovering here, many Imperial artifacts and templates could be discovered all over this vast planet. However, such things were usually under the guidance and protection of the adeptus mechanicus and they held no love for alien species such as the Eldar.

“Qu’nalan.” He lifted two of fingers to tap into the comm-bead linked to his left ear, listening to the soft static for a moment before a voice registered him.

“Lriean, did you find the stone?” The voice over the other end was a darker tone than his and more hushed.

“I ran into a little trouble, well more than that, but I managed. The stone is useless now.”

“I see. Well get back up here, it’s time to leave this place in search of something else. Qu’nalan out.”

Didn’t Qu’nalan know that there was a war waging out there right now? What new leads could he possibly have that they hadn’t talked about? Well, he would know when he spoke to him in person, time to leave here, whatever this place was.

The Eldar threw his las-gun over his shoulder and began to trek off into the distance.

“Lriean.”

“Huh? Who goes there?” The relic hunter called out, placing a cautious hand on his las-gun. He cast glances into the darkness, yet saw nothing.

“I am only curious as to why you said you do not possess the soul stone of Ar’ka’ram? If you needed aid, you should have called upon me, I would have gladly come with you.” Taryi’s voice carried over the darkness, echoing in the haunting quiet and interrogating him softly. “No offence, Taryi, but I don’t think your acquired skills would have helped me much.”

Lriean watched the howling banshee emerge from the darkness in the direction he was heading. Her curly auburn hair bounced with every step, threatening to cover her bright jade eyes and the dark inked tattoos partially covering her face. She was clad in sleek armor that fit tightly around her slender frame and she held the two handed executioner in her hands. The howling banshee stood at least two heads over the strangely dressed Lriean, lowering her gaze onto him like a stern mentor rebuking a student who had just made a grave mistake.

“Then what happened?” She interrogated again, curiosity peaked at the actions of her fellow eldar.

“Nyst is what happened, I never thought I’d bump into such a strange demon of legend, but here we are, talking about it after the fact.” Taryi’s eyes widened a fraction, uttering the name to herself as if contemplating what implications the name had. Then the look in her eyes suddenly steeled into a sterner expression, looking Lriean up and down and examining his current state of being.

“You look no worse for wear. Why is that?”

“She simply left after taking what she wanted, I’m not sure what else I’ve could have done, given the circumstances.”

“Or course not.” The howling banshee stated, unimpressed. “Let us move, I’m sure you desire to leave here as soon as possible.” The two began to retract their footsteps back towards the way they came, stepping through a ruined corridor with its walls gutted and littered with rotting carcasses and skeletons. On what part of that walls that had held out for all these years had various types of graffiti and messages sprawling across their surface. They soon came across an elevator shaft that would take them out of the dreary pit they had descended into.

“You didn’t by chance find anything of use down here, did you?” Lriean pressed the button according to the highest level he wanted to go and the elevator doors squealed shut.

“No.” Taryi studied him with an incredulous look, examining his face to see if he was being serious.

“Just wondering.” Lriean said distracted, obviously other things were on his mind. “What was Qu’nalan doing before you came down here?”

“Waiting for you.”

A resounding bell ringed within the elevator and the doors came squeaking open, revealing a night sky and towering sky scrapers raising kilometers above ground. They stepped into a small plaza, completed with a small garden and Imperial chapel in the midst of it. There was a massive demon looming around the chapel, about as tall as Lriean himself and built of crimson sinew and muscle. A wicked tongue licked hungrily at the air and beady red eyes stared into their souls from afar. The bloodletter held a demonically forged blade in its right hand, nothing else in its left, but it looked poised and ready to strike.

“Qu’nalan!?” Lriean called out, but there was no answer.

Two more appeared out of the shadows, coming to stand near their comrade and leering as they began to slowly approach. Each of them looked menacing in their own right, but their bulk did not phase Lriean or Taryi, who instantly grabbed their weapons and stormed off into two different directions.

Lriean kicked his las-rifle from single shot to full auto and opened up a salvo of las-bolts that punched the one of the far left- the one nearest him- in the chest several times. The monster took the bullets in stride and laughed confidently at its upstart opponent, roaring out the demonic challenge before three blood letters sprung into a charge of their own. Lriean opened fire again at the one coming towards him, first blasting at the legs and torso before working his way up to the thing’s face. The blood letter shielded his face with the massive bulk of its arm, raising his sword up to cleave Lriean who simply rolled out of the way as he fired.

The Eldar Relic hunter sprang to his feet, ducking beneath an arched swing meant to cleave his head off. He brought his bayonet up, but the blood letter’s arms were still covering its face. Instead he swung the knife on the edge of his las-gun into the things gut, managing to stab twice before it brought its elbow down on his temple and sent spinning away. The demon of Khorne did not let up, swinging its blade around its head before bringing it down in an overhead strike.

Lriean dived and rolled away from the blow, barely managing to not be scathed by it, he threw the las-gun at the demon to temporarily halt its momentum. In that space of time, he drew his shuriken pistol and unleashed a flurry of laser fire that would shred a lesser man in an instant. It merely injured the blood letter, causing it to recoil from Lriean and use its sword as a shield.

Taryi twirled around the first blood letter to reach her, stabbing in with one side of her executioner and impaling the thing in the gut. She remembered to twist before departing the blade from flesh, bringing the blade back around to parry the second blood letter in a shower of sparks. The two power weapons clashed for a few seconds, each one struggling to gain an edge over the other. She flipped backwards before the blood letter could bring his blade back for another strike, cleaving the first blood letter she had engaged in two with an effortless strike.

With a howl of rage, the first demon of the group departed, turning into a fine mist before evaporating into the warp completely. The second seemed undettered, instead raising its blade and roaring triumphantly over the screams of its dying comrade. It waved at the shadows and spoke in a diabolic tongue, loud enough to make her ears reverberate heavily.

“Cursed thing, I’ll slay you and your entire ilk!”

More blood letters came roaring out of the darkness, blades burning brightly with hellfire and murderous intent in their eyes. They stormed forward across the plaza to lock arms with the pair of eldar and claim their souls for Khorne. Similar to the first pack, they split into groups, two for Lriean, the other three for Taryi. They howled like wild animals in the night, already covered in the blood of many innocents.

“Lriean! Taryi! Look out below!” A voice shouted from the rooftops, Qu’nalan stood atop a housing block over-looking the plaza, clad in the armor of the dark reaper and cradling a tempest launcher in his arms.

Not saying anything more, Qu’nalan fired twin rockets into the rushing hoard of blood letters, aiming for the pair that were chasing after Lriean. The first rocket scathed the blood letter that Lriean had been blasting away since the fight began, the other one had landed perfectly between the other two lagging behind. The blast gouged out layers of asphalt and blew apart one of the blood letters in a gory display of blood. The second was flung across the plaza by the blast, twisting an arm and snapping it on impact with the asphalt where Taryi was currently fighting.

Disengaging from combat, the howling banshee gracefully darted from the other blood letters to the injured one, effortlessly leaping over it and inserting one end of her blade between the thing’s spine around the neck. Effectively killing it, she turned to the other three, staring them down as they meant to surround her. A knowing smile crossed her lips and she charged into the three, using her feet to climb up and leap over the more hunched blood letter, she landed in a kneeled position beside one of the reinforcements, taking out its leg below the knee cap.

With no leg to stand on, it naturally collapsed, reaching out for the banshee with the intent of savagely pulling one of her arms off. In a split second reaction, she answered with a quick thrust from her blade into the demon’s gaping mouth, erupting out the other end in a shower of blood. It slowly began to fade into a fine mist, but still maintained a firm grip on her arm.

With a look of shock on her face, she could only watch the other two charge her down, but an idea popped in her head at that moment as she heard the rocket come down. She hastily pulled the rapidly fading body of the blood letter over around her while she hit the ground, covering herself to some extent as the first rocket buried itself deep in one of the blood letter’s gut. It promptly blossomed in an explosion of blood and mist; the shear force sent the second flying and bought her a little more time.

The demon hide around her fading into nothingness, she once again commanded her arm with her own strength, rising to her feet and throwing the blade at the last demon trying to erect itself near the chapel wall. The blade impaled the demon through the stomach, carving itself into the cold metal of the chapel and pinning the blood letter against it.

“Lreian!”

Lriean kicked the kneeling blood letter in the teeth, bringing his bayonet from his re-acquired las- rifle right into the beast’s eye socket. Not even flinching from the grotesque pop within the eye socket, he slid the bayonet out of the gun and proceeded to fire the remainder of his ammunition into the blood letter stuck upon the chapel. The las-bolts hit accurately and in dense succession, repeatedly blasting away at the minion of Khorne’s face until only exposed, bullet ridden brain matter was left in place of a face. Then once again, it faded away.

“Are you two alright?” Qu’nalan asked, but did not stop for an answer. “I’m making my way off this roof top!”

“What’s next, haha, zombies!?”Lriean shrugged at Taryi with a grim smile, wiping the sweat off his face.

“I wouldn’t joke about such things here, who knows, perhaps it will be,” The howling banshee smiled back, shrugging carelessly as well.

*****

“We can move the imperial guard companies up through the Tesian Highway,” Canoness Kari poured over a holographic map of Sojek’s under city with her generals. The tactical display highlighted many different zones, each one of those zones representing allied or non-friendly territory. Within each of those territories a series of troop formations and base-outpost locations dotted the immersive map.

“From there, we can move onto objective 418-68, of operation Spearhead,” She continued, drawling on and on about trivialities of war.

Lyria quietly observed the interior of the command center, studying the mass of adepts, Imperial guard, and agents of the adeptus mechanicus laboring under stressful condition in a sterile, pristine environment. Twice as many servitors were working at the cogitators, or moving and setting up equipment, and working on that blasted telecommunications array that had been down all night. The Imperial guardsmen were also going over their strategic options alongside the Canoness while their bodyguards sat at the doorways and every other secure position listening intently.

“We’ve heard the reports: the Thousand Sons are planet side and are main priority should be sniffing them out.”

Lyria was uncertain as to why so many initiates had been brought into the presence of so many Celestians and Imperial Officers. Even the Adeptus Astartes had sent an envoy Captain to make sure everything was in order for the coming purge. The bodyguards of the Sundered Legion: Veteran squads that fought for well over a century, stood with them at the entrance seemingly interested in only the conversation transpiring between the higher chain of command. Sister Meril had gathered her own adeptus sororitas around a small recess table that were not initiates close to her, intent on discussing other matters. Ameni, Haxta, Helga, Maren, and herself stood with their backs against the cold steel of the walls away from the other squad of sisters.

“We’ve taken heavy losses at the Artaxas Gate, Brother Captain Justilius, I trust you will lead your brothers there.”

Haxta occupied herself with smoking a cigarette with Helga and Maren, chatting quietly amongst themselves about the kills they had made on the way here. Lyria had scored a few kills herself, she remembered fondly the bolter rattling in her arms and spraying death at the horde of people who tried to confront them. There had even been zombies she had blown away in her fury, sparing none of the ill sick with the plague of un-death or just madness. She hadn’t dared challenge anything in close proximity to her in close combat, that was not recommended until one fought with power armor.

“I wish we could speak to the admirals about the situation above our atmosphere in case we require additional supplies and reinforcements from off-world.”

Ameni had been beside her the entire time and they had scythed down many together like wheat the field. Her murderous lust was slaked and she could see that in her eyes now, staring blankly at a data slate in her hands, looking rather bored. Lyria wondered how alright she really was, no doubt all that killing had taken a toll on them all, seeing so many dying in such a variety of ways and losing comrades. Some were lost, mostly initiates who had been overrun at their section of the front.

“I wonder how much longer until we’re fully initiated?” Lyria asked Ameni, who finally looked up from her data slate with un-interest.

“Don’t ask me, ask Sister Meril.” She glanced back down to her slate, obviously preoccupied with reading its contents.

“What are you reading?”

“A book of Psalms, why?” Ameni gave her a look of minor annoyance, putting the data slate down for a minute to talk.

*****

Someone else was also listening to the Canoness go over Imperial preparations, an adeptus sororitas Celestian bodyguard named Edessa. She sat in a great chair just behind the Canoness, arms folded, legs crossed with a lit cigar in her mouth. She expelled smoke from hips and nostrils before inhaling the strong scent again, gently tapping the cigar on the ash tray and allowing the ash to fall into it. She was alone, sitting in the darkness, observing everyone else oblivious to her presence.

Nyst happily observed the empty vessel with piqued interest, moving invisible fingers with magical puppet strings attached. Of course, her chosen vessel moved with them, at first resisting, feeling unwell and struggling to cope with the small amount of pressure slowly increasing overtime. She placed her hands on her head, closed her eyes and became possessed under her influence. There was little point in directly possessing her with all of the security, guards, and mass of bodies in that place. She would never escape, no this was far better.

“Come now, love, a puppet’s dance to entertain me for a while. This one does not elude me like the eldar, master. He pretends to be so elusive, but I can simply observe the future when I wish and discover his true desires. This would be so much easier if he had just sold his soul under my supervision, but it must always be difficult doesn’t it?”

“Admirable work, Nyst, but I must take my leave now. I believe I heard enough about loyalist plans for one day. End their session, would you?” A telepathic voice touched her ethereal mind, finding it within the warp before departing as quickly as it came.

“Of course, master, by you I am bound.”

Edessa lifted her hands from her face, revealing a dark intent in her eyes and twisted smile on her lips. Nyst easily spoke through her, gracefully communicating every word through her own mouth under her powerful trance.

“I am power.” She breathed with no small amount of anticipation.

The possessed Celestian lifted herself from her seat, silently walking up behind the Canoness, pretending to be interested in the tactical discussion taking place in the center of H.Q. She lingered over the hierarchy of officers and generals a little longer; none of them seemed to pay her any attention. She eyed the Brother Captain the most, wondering if he would notice her before it was too late.

“Best not to wait then.” Edessa promptly reached for her bolt pistol, pressing it against the back of the Canoness’ head and blowing her brains out the other side of her skull and spraying the tactical map hologram table with her brain matter. Fresh blood splurted from her shattered skull and the simply stood erect for a moment, before slowly crumbling all together.

“Emperor’s mercy!” One of her right hands screamed out, reaching for her own pistol as she spun around.

Edessa shot her through the side of her head, the bullet coming through the other side and detonating in an Imperial’s officer’s chest.

Many of the generals present were suddenly taking cover or running from the massacre, screaming for their guards to protect them. From every corner of the room, armed assailants came running to the scene and were only seconds away from drawing line of sight on the demonically influenced battle nun. Captain Justilius unsheathed his chainsword and leapt over the hologram table, ready to cleave her apart.

Edessa pressed the bolt pistol to her head and squeezed the trigger, choosing to die with a smile on her face.

*****

“The hell was that all about?” Lriean questioned a becalmed Qu’nalan, who merely shrugged in response.

“They emerged from the darkness; they must’ve seen me waiting for you outside that ruin, and figured they’d come after you two. They would have assailed me instead had I not took flight onto one of the roof tops and your perfect timing.” Qu’nalan radiated the appearance of a person who had spent a century or two perfecting the art of killing. His time in the Dark Reaper Aspect had transformed him from an eldar who had once been like Lriean, into a warrior of silent contemplation and one that saw and respected only death in any form. That same lack of respect and his murderous intent was also the reason he could no longer love Taryi the howling banshee. They had been close to being lovers once, but that didn’t mean they couldn’t merely be friends now.

The Dark Reaper threw his tempest launcher upon the small altar within the Imperial Chapel that they had fought outside of moments before. He expelled a great sigh and studied the rest of his team with weary eyes, sitting on one of the benches within the humble place of worship. The aspect warrior hesitated for a moment, wanting to say something, but retracting the words in his mouth at the last second.

“Well that aside,” Taryi carefully approached him, placing a gentle hand upon Qu’nalan’s. “You said you had something interesting to share with us?”

“True.” A sudden enthusiasm came over his stoic expression, glancing at both of them to catch their interest. “Spirit Seer Mae touched my mind earlier this evening, she told me-us- to tread carefully, demons of the Thousand Sons maybe stalking us and that we should end our search of the spirit stones, for now at least.”

“How intuitive.” Taryi grimaced, shaking her head and frowning at the Dark Reaper. “Is that all she said? What next, we’ll be running into ancient demons in delves into ruins?’

“Of course that’s not all she said,” Qu’nalan spat with no small amount of annoyance, picking up something that had been attached to his armor and placing it upon the altar.

The piece of equipment displayed many runes in its holographic center, Qu’nalan named but one and it began to flare into life. A holographic image formed in the air above the emitter, taking the shape of Spirit Seer Mae in her long elegant robes and war helmet.

“Greetings, young ones,” Her voice came out amplified and distorted by the psychic energies of her helmet, immediately extending her an aura of mysticism. “I come on behalf of the council. Hello again, Lriean, did you by chance come across the soul stone of Ar’ka’ram?”

A joyous air seemed to surround the elder Seer, probably thinking they had taken the stones with ease.

“No.” Lriean replied apologetically. “I did not, that great evil that you said maybe stalking us, they reached it first.”

“That is most regrettable.” Mae sounded somewhat surprised and thoroughly disappointed.

“Honestly, Spirit Seer, I do not see why the council continues to send us in search of these stones.” Qu’nalan uttered respectfully. “Demons usually hoard the stones for themselves and the stones themselves are usually lost by the time we even locate them.”

“Not one soul of our kind should be forsaken to such a fate.” Mae chastised him with a gentle rebuke. “We would send someone to find yours if you had suddenly been claimed by death.” Qu’nalan merely replied with an understanding nod, which seemed to satisfy the Spirit Seer.

“You three seem in good health, did anything else transpire?”

“We ran into Nyst and a few demons in our search.” Lriean took over, glaring at the hologram intently. “That just can’t be coincidence; do you know what she wants?”

“Thousand Sons and Demons are nearly as random as we appear to other species, we can attempt to discern the future, but we may not find the answers you seek. I did warn you that she may seek whoever she pleases and that she does maintain a grasp on this planet.”

“With all due respect, Seer,” Taryi suddenly came between the two. “Unless you intend to grant us a small taskforce do deal with this new threat, how do you expect us to fight such a creature?”

There was a moment of silence.

“It may be your fate to combat this creature, but for now, in the foreseeable future, you may need protection for the rest of your stay on this planet.” Now Mae simply sounded worried by something, she was pacing back and forth now and obviously contemplating what she was about to say. “The council may have proved correct after all, though you are all trained in the way of killing – you least of all, Lriean- I cannot expect you to handle your next task on your own.”

“Perhaps, working in collaboration with the Inquisition can be a means to an end for both sides of the coin.”

“Whoa, wait, wait, what, I’m sorry?” Lriean barely flinched at the name; it had no more fear attached to it than any other demon out there. Even so, the eldar relic hunter loathed the idea of working with actual fanatics.

“The Inquisition has come to our council for an offer; they wish to uncover what the Thousand Sons are plotting on Tyrannus with our help.” The Spirit Seer finally caved. “However we do not wish to be bogged down in Mon-Keigh wars, so I have decided to send you three. There must be an ancient artifact these chaos space marines must be seeking, seek it out, and if fate wills it, before they do. I’ll be here to guide you in case you desire aid. You must understand, this is your profession, so please accept this task.”

“How can we stay ahead of the Thousand Sons if we can’t even out maneuver a demon? I correct myself, a greater demon?” Taryi did not sound too enthused.

“I shall arrange a contact for you to meet; he may prove to be a great boon on this subject. Go to the research facility of Grixmanan: the fortress monastery belonging to the Order of the Emperor’s Grace. It is based in Aurelia. He will meet you there.”

*****

“I knew Canoness Kari Olympia, only in her prime years as commander of our sacred order. To her death we salute.”

“Our honored Canoness, we serve, hail the holy throne of Terra.” A thousand voices chanted the short Psalm, a thousand fists clashed against chest plates in that very moment.

The entire might of the Adeptus Sororitas Order had assembled in the mighty halls of Grixmanan, at attention, organized in rank and file throughout Cyrus square. Envoys from the Sundered Legion and the Imperial Guard had been allowed to gather for the mourning, bringing with them an Honor company garbed in full ceremonial wardrobe. The mighty golden walls of the facility surrounded the ongoing funeral, their pulpits and bristling artillery pieces and heavy weapon emplacements entirely emptied for the occasion.

“She has been accepted among the saints that reside beside the holy Throne of Terra, a voyage that we all must embark on one day. But sisters, let it not be in these grim, dark days, when war is being waged on a galactic scale, the very genocide of Mankind at hand.”

“Aye! We have purpose!” Captain Justilius and his honor company bellowed as one, offering a twice salute to her sacrifice.

The massive statue of the Emperor himself overlooked the entire fortress from the very center of the square, soon to be Canoness Anatolijus Nikolas stood proudly beneath his ever watchful gaze. Her armor had been crafted from the purest gold and silver admantanium, draped over with emerald and snow white robes of thick, fine silk. Her flowing long hair was an aged matte white, flat bangs falling over the heavily tanned skin of her face and gaunt, slightly sunken features. Uplifted in her hands, her golden blade shimmered and gleamed in the flaring sunlight; reflecting rays of light onto the assembled mass of the Emperor’s finest.

“Canoness Kari has passed down her role as commander of the Order of the Emperor’s Grace and I, Anatolijus Nikolas, shall do everything in my power to deliver my order, all of Tyrannus, and all of the Tarmathon Sector into an age of peace and prosperity. So that we shall once again look to the future with hopeful eyes and await the Emperor’s inevitable return.” She lowered her sword, sheathing it once again in its scabbard and greeted her comrades once more with a stern gaze.

Grixmanan bathed in the light of the sun from atop the spires of the Governor’s palace, a nation spanning fortress complex that sat at the very top of the hive city Aurelia. The structures within were not the millennia old constructs that had endured the test the time, but sleek with innovative architecture and technology. Giant asteroids and massive fleet docking stations sat above the great city just above the atmosphere. The innumerable number of ships that he could see in the skies was breath taking; regiment ferrying transport ships raising and descending through the atmosphere, accompanied with a legion of lesser vessels at their command.

The scent of rose water and flowering blossoms hung heavily in the air around the monastery, coming from the looming Jura trees and the small gardens that surrounded them. Lriean seemed somewhat impressed, though he was lying, seeing the capital palace of an entire planet belonging to the largest galactic race currently in the galaxy had to impress very much. There he stood toward the front of the congregation alongside Qu’nalan and Taryi on his left.

Beside him stood Sister Celestian Philemon Leva of the Order of the Sacred Rose. Her power armor and battle robes were a mix of black and white, which matched her braided hair, but not her youthful age. She was beaming with pride, a defiant smile on her lips and her fists curled against her chest in salute. She glanced at Lriean several times, easing the tension with a welcoming smirk before turning her attention back onto Canoness Anatolijus. She had apparently served in the Inquisition all her life, and loved to utilize her multi-melta in the heat of battle.

“Hello there, Lriean,” She spoke to him in a firm, welcoming tone, taking her hand off her chest to shake hands with the alien. “On behalf of the Inquisition and the Order of the Sacred Rose, I bid you welcome, young alien. I only say young because you are for one of your kind.”

“Oh I see, sister, you must know all about me, being from such an agency and all.”

“Philemon Leva, which is what you may call me and only from I managed to gleam from my Inquisitor. You do not look too random or mysterious to me, young Lriean so I somewhat like you. However, to know the true heart of an alien is to give oneself over to madness, for there is no understanding.”

“I see. Someone Important recently die here?”

“Sisters from the Emperor’s Grace are mourning the loss of their Canoness. A tragic tale, a weak and frail Celestian under the name of Edessa apparently succumbed to demonic influence and murdered the former Canoness before anyone could take notice. How suspicious…”

“Indeed. That aside, I believe you know why I’m here.”

“Yes. In this dire hour, the cooperation of our two races shall uncover this mystery. If I may ask, who are these two you’ve brought with you?”

Lriean gestured for his companions to meet the Celestian, whom they did, exchanging formalities, however quaint.

“These are my comrades Taryi Nushala and Qu’nalan Elion.”

“Well met, Mon-Keigh, you warrior nuns do not look so frail and old like many of these other humans. Yet you do not resemble those ape-like space marines. Why is that?” Taryi smiled whole-heartedly and gave a slight bow before turning her attention back onto Canoness Anatolijus.

Philemon’s welcoming warmth soon vanished under a scowling and threatening look. “The battle brothers are made in the Emperor’s image, you would do well to remember that in the presence of my Inquisitor. That is, if you wish to stay off his trophy rack of successful battles waged against the alien he has earned throughout his life time.”

“Very well.” The howling banshee’s snide demeanor somewhat left and it was Philemon’s turn to smile.

“Enough of this, the sun may beat down upon my skin, but my bones are chilled in this wind and I seek shelter.” Qu’nalan hissed at both of them, interrupting them further and breaking out of line from the ceremony, marching off toward the grand monastery off in the backdrop.

“Let us waste no more time chitt-chatting then, this way aliens, I will have you meet Inquisitor Ardaran.”

*****

“Come in, come in.” Philemon waved them forward into a luxurious waiting room.

Waterfalls were pouring along great recesses within the spectacular paintings that took up the entire scope of the walls. They depicted the race of men in another time, a long forgotten era that somewhat reminded him of the fall of the Eldar. Large banners were unfurled over most of it, each one displaying the heraldry of the Imperium from across the galaxy, each part of it woven into the fabric that made the Inquisition. Glassine tables of varying sizes stood between them and the large archway leading beyond a massive Imperial Eagle. Beside the Aquila, large bronze statues stood vigilantly over this part of the monastery, probably Canonesses from another age.


Lriean held his breath in awe, taking in the calmness radiating off this place, absorbing it into his own being and enjoying the hospitality for once. Taryi suppressed a yawn; inspecting the artwork and observing a story unfold before her through these very walls. Qu’nalan occasionally indulged himself in a question to Philemon about the origins of some of the banners. Sitting in an oval chair was a black figure, encased in flowing robes and witch helm that shone like the night in the artificial light. Fixated upon his sleek armored chest and helm were a series of crimson, semi-crystalline stones that decorated his wardrobe. Sheathed in an elegant rune sealed scabbard was a blade that only an Eldar Warlock or Seer would wield: a witch blade. The mysterious figure and the Callidus Assassin sitting across from him turned to regard them fully as they entered. The Warlock even raised a sign of peace upon Lriean and his crew, seeing that they were indeed fellow eldar.

“I knew I had sensed something strange upon your arrival, how do my kin fare across the stars, I wonder?” A dark male voice softly intoned upon his mind, though the figure in front of him remained still and silent. Then he pointed at the young eldar, expecting some form of response.

“Home is a wayward place; full of peace and at ease in this galaxy of war, though we are not spared from it as any other of our kind. Teyl-Jhen knows some degree of peace for the time being.” Lriean answered back telepathically, exchanging the faintest of nods with the mysterious warlock before striding past him and the female assassin that sat with him.

“Good, I would not wish them to be under the heel of any other race or slowly vanishing away in some new war I have yet to hear about.”

Philemon instructed the pair of Grey Knights standing guard in front of the massive archway to open the gates. Lriean observed them push open the doors with a hiss of whining servos and an array of other gadgets within the doorway itself turn and grind into one another. They saluted the Celestian and her temporary retinue, reverting back to their immobile stances as the group pressed their way in.

“My name is Kasilienesh, go ahead and let us part ways for now. We shall meet again soon, young Lriean.”

Inquisitor Ardaran reclined into his seat, kicking his feet up on a desk filled with papers, careful not to disturb any of them. He studied Philemon, who bowed in response, then came the eldar, who he acknowledged with a slight incline of his head.

“I suppose meeting on these circumstances will have to do.” The Ordos Malleus Inquisitor gestured them to sit in front of his desk, a chair for each of them. “My name and title, dear aliens, is Inquisitor Ardaran of the Ordos Malleus, I command an army here in Aurelia, both stationed in this very location, the Governor’s very palace, and in the open space beyond. You assembled people shall become merged with this force, do not fret; I don’t expect you to be doing grunt’s work under my command. You see, I’m building a new detachment with thoughts of cooperation with the Eldar in mind. Though this detachment for the moment is only temporary, I expect your utter loyalty, common sense, and expertise in certain matters for its duration.”

“How can we help, exactly?” Lriean seemed to be the only one willing to ask questions, they were here and only here by the Council’s Orders. “We were told that you could offer us protection from the enemy without until we can accomplish our mission here and in exchange, we shall offer you aid in whatever way we can.”

Ardaran simply nodded his satisfaction at that answer, but merely shook his head. “Good, under the power of our psykers and that of our allies, we assure you not many demons can breach our defenses. I do wish to explain what role we are seeing you in so that we could benefit from each other. Our goal or our objective is simply to do a series of things: to ward off the threat of the psyker, to suffer not the heretic to live, and to serve our duty with honor and discipline. Together we’ll plunder the secrets of the world and delve into darkness together, for mutual benefit of course.”

“I am a hunter of demons, of despicable aliens that deserve nothing more than redemption from the guns of my servants, the alien, the mutant, and the heretic. Of course, the Imperium is at a truce with the Eldar race and so our inopportune meeting is both blessed and more importantly, sanctioned. To put it frankly, the goals of our nations are very similar and we can work towards those ends to solve our problems together.”

“Canoness Anatolijus is currently in command of this special detachment, you are officially now known as members of the Ordos Malleus and will be delivered to her for your first assignment. God speed and good luck!”

Then the memories ended, it was a strange thing, her memory had become too skewed due to all the stories that alien had told her of his arrival into the Ordo Malleus. She could only see things from her point of view, but she had attempted to make sense of it all anyway.

Back to present day… on a metro train heading to an unknown destination…


Alumni


“I am power.”

“With your power, I am your servant.”

“I am ethereal.”

“With your blessings, I am no longer mortal.”

“I am favored.”

With your attention, I shall bring thy armies forth.”

“I am blessed by the Gods.”

“With your endless sacrifice, we pay tribute.”

“I am immortal.”

“With your benevolent wisdom, we make our endless war.”

“I am demonic.”

“With your words, we honor the Gods.”

“Through your Gods, does the galaxy burn.” “So long as the galaxy burns in our name, I shall bestow upon you my gifts, favored mortal, and more importantly, the favor of a chosen Deity. Do not be superstitious like these slaves beneath the yolk of your nemesis. You shall know my power is real through ascendancy, the single greatest moment in your brief existence when your life suddenly becomes infinite with new possibilities. This planet still writhes in the flames of chaos even though those mortal pawns of my master, the Thousand Sons, have somewhat abandoned you now that the war has turned ill. Brave souls, I do not wish to consume your essence upon a whim, but for once in the entirety of the time I have known you do I wish to reward your twisted sense of true faith.”

Nyst had been greatly weakened over the course of the war, even though she had drank deep in the souls that had spilled from this planet into the alternate reality of the warp. She had failed to please her master, for she had found no champion worthy of leading the demonic horde upon an unsuspecting world. The mortals that dwelled upon Tyrannus’ surface had conspired against her and turned the relentless tide of the Thousand Sons aside through endless bloodshed and death. Those space marines had the option to leave, but many of the cults that had foreseen and supported their coming were not given such an option. Neither were any of the demonic entities that were only beginning to scourge the massive hive planet from bottom up. The Changer of Ways still had his eyes set upon this planet and it was her sacred duty to pick among the mortal ranks who would become the world razer.

There were a thousand other places she could be within the galaxy, but instead she found herself sitting on her hind legs, arms folded, and soulless pits staring deep into the soul of the chosen. She scoured her mind for the myriad threads of the future concerning her fate and she saw ten thousand deaths, even less triumphs in her current form, dying at the wrong side of retribution from those who would not even know her name. And yet, all of these things ended with vile rebirth, flesh being shed, another superior form taken as she joined the four Gods in their endless war.

“I cannot see your future as demonic kin, which troubles me only slightly, but it is of no concern of yours now is it, Theodora?”

“You have explained your rites of ascendancy to me and I will tell you now, while the demonic form maybe holier than our wretched flesh, it is through our birth right that humanity will rule this galaxy, not vagabond demons.”

Sorceress Theodora Kyveli sat upon a small sapphire throne fit for a mortal, dressed in ornate priestly attire that associated her with the small cabal of worshippers left within Tyrannus. Silky crimson hair around her head was woven into a series of braids, and all manner of jewelry hung from her neck and fingers in the shape of the blasphemous chaos icons. “Perhaps you should nominate yourself for ascendancy instead, after all, your current form seems to pale in comparison of greater demons.”

“I have considered it before, but doing so would banish me into the warp for a few centuries to serve beside my master. It would be most regrettable not being able to consult lost souls such you and your puppets for such a long time, why I would lose my touch.”

Nyst gazed around the assembled mass of cultists, a thousand soulless vessels all under the sway of demonic possession stood between the palace gates and Theodora and herself. They simply stood at attention like a legion of statues that had no purpose, not even deigning to listen in upon the conversation the two were having before the throne itself. In fact, only the pair of them and a dozen others in attendance probably retained their minds at all.

“At least consider the idea, Hel’xata. I have not gazed upon your true form, but I’m sure it is as magnificent as my sorcerers envisioned.” Theodora toyed with her fingernails in boredom, paying the demonic thing beside her little attention.

“Why my lady, do not trouble yourself with witnessing my true form, once either the Imperials, Eldar, or ourselves have located the lost warp gates buried somewhere on this forsaken rock of a planet, you shall see me in all my splendor.”

“In due time then, is what you’re saying?”

*****

“All passengers, be advised, we’ll be pulling into Qanatic station in a few minutes.”

Dusk: a time when the waning sun painted the skies in all those shades of red, orange, and pink. Lyria watched the clouds roll across the horizon now that the backdrop outside the metro-bus was slowly growing in clarity. The Grand Central station a top the peak of Aurelia was in reach and the mode of transportation slowly grounded to a halt as it pulled into its dock. She sat on top of the world feeling like nobility as she did so. Perhaps one of her trade counted among the wealthy nobles that resided here, despite her rigid upbringing.

The metro-bus was filled with all manner of Imperial citizens, dressed in flamboyant clothes or more pious garbs. Many of them were hefting much jewelry and radiated an aura of pompous superiority even amongst themselves. Some of them gave her odd stares, but ultimately paid her little heed. Some of the priests and hospitallers on board with their current mission had invited her to come into the grand cathedral of Saint Illyes for song and prayer which is where her current destination lies.

She removed her helmet when she stepped beyond the doors of the cramped metro-train, squinting at the soft but glaring touch of the last rays the sun had to offer. Once upon a time, she remembered fighting in these very subterranean transportation routes when she was only an initiate. The trains had been filled with scared citizens looking for refuge from the plague of un-death and with a host of fanatic sororitas who had tried to protect them. The blood shed was abhor able and brutal and she had longed to be rid of the memories for years now.

“Sister Lyria! Over here!” Hospitaller Iana was dressed in a scarlet red dress made of silk with a pure white robing that had the mark of the Hospitaller etched across the center of the fabric. Her face was vibrant with youth and vigor that Lyria remembered when she was beginning her training. She had her blonde hair swept to one side of her face and beamed a smile of welcome towards the sister of battle.

“Hospitaller Iana.” Lyria gave a slight bow, which was far more fluid in her emerald and snow white robes than it would have been in her suit of power armor. A great tome of psalms was tucked under her shoulder and a bolt pistol hanging from a leather belt tied around her hip. “A pleasure to meet you once again. And who might this be?”

“Ah,” Iana gestured to the other figure standing beside her. “This is my friend and co-worker, Brielle.”

Lyria studied the hospitaller carefully with a glint of curiosity, something was definitely off about her. Her two bionic arms glimmered even in the increasingly amount of star light, moving fluidly to fold themselves in a form of impatience. Her eyes were sterile silver and by the way they glowed, Lyria could tell her eyes were bionic or at the least enhanced as well though her ebony face seemed completely natural and unscathed. She had long black hair that spilled across her weak, artificial like shoulders and one leg that moved with a heavier clang against the steel floor of the station.

“Hello, my name is Brielle Bailen, also an assistant volunteer here at the hospitaller H.Q.” Brielle stated in a mechanical, nearly trance like state, though her voice did not seem altered by any of the bionics on her body. She extended her hand in greeting, which Lyria took up with a slight hesitation. “It is an honor to meet you, comrade.”

“You were a sororitas, once?” Lyria attempted to keep the sympathy out her face, which she concealed well.

“Once as you’ve mentioned, before my wounds had become too much to bear.” Brielle’s silver eyes clicked back and forth, taking in the surroundings of the station before her look shifted to one of slight boredom. “Lucky for me, I was able to retire from the real battles early; probably why I survived the war in the end.”

“The war has never stopped, Brielle, and you look like you can still carry a bolter to me, but if others rule you unfit to serve, I shall not be the one to persecute you for it.” Lyria uttered to the slightly surprised hospitaller with a bit of conviction in her tone. Brielle looked ultimately unfazed by her words none-the-less.

“While I assure you I can hold a weapon, I am afraid my I.Q. does not allow me to meddle with the more unappreciated minds.” Brielle stated in her matter-of-fact voice, smiling politely even as Lyria gently pulled her hand away from hers.

“And what do you appreciated minds do? Tend to the electronics?” Lyria bit back her retort a moment too late, pausing to let the insult sink in while also feigning a polite smile.

“Excuse me?” Iana’s friend muttered in mild shock, a little taken back by the sudden sting of Lyria’s tongue and suddenly wanting to shift the conversation from the awkward topic. “I meant no insult, comrade, perhaps we should simply go to the cathedral and pray like we intended.”

“Yes, let us do that.” Lyria nodded her agreement, accepting the sudden change in subject. “Iana, if you would lead the way.”

“Of course.” Iana tried not to grimace at the two of them. “It is up these stairs just outside the station.”

*****

The raised voices of Saint Illyes echoed throughout the entirety of the ancient cathedral, resonating within its rose petal littered floors and golden walls. The words of song that they sung as one reached the highest pulpits and the very back of the building where the entrance lay. Lyria bathed in their angelic voices, singing the ancient and revered psalms along with the choir as if she was one amongst their number. Brielle and Iana were singing in praise as well, the former of those two sung with surprisingly unhindered grace considering her body’s condition. Lyria supposed it was something to rejoice in.

Ameni sat beside her in the pews with a large cigar in between her lips. She expelled a mouthful of smoke that smelled quite unpleasant compared to the rich odor the incense and rose water left hanging in the air. She did not seem too preoccupied with the choir’s event, but was far more interested in keeping an eye on the strange figure that sat in between the two adeptus sororitas.

“Ah, this is so relaxing, it is a lot different from home, but I love how you humans come together and share this belief that your Emperor shall one day return. It is somewhat like what we believe in with our god that one day they will be rebirthed.” Lriean gave a light shrug at the unpleasant stares he received from the rest of the group.

“It would be best not bringing up your heathen gods in this holy shrine alien, you forget your place.” Sister Ameni repeated a polite line she had learned to say whenever Lriean began to get on her nerves. “We do not wish to hear anything but His name in this sanctuary, only his and no other.”

“Suit yourself; these other two that you’ve brought with you look like they’ve never laid eyes upon an alien before though. Don’t worry; it’s only unnerving me a little bit.” Lriean feigned a polite smirk for the two hospitallers, who nodded apologetically.

“Excuse us, but we have not seen one before, it is somewhat intriguing, but I feel revulsion deep in my soul for anything less than human. It’s just so unnatural.” Brielle continued to observe the strange alien with a look of minor fasciation and uncertain calculations.

“You know wearing those clothes doesn’t make you look like one of us, right?” Iana glared at the Eldar dressed in an Imperial Commissar’s suit, trench coat, and hat. “Why did you even chose to dress like that?”

“Thank the Emperor, someone in their right minds for once.” Lryia sighed, beginning to mouth the words of prayer instead of singing them.

“Hey, as a leader of this expedition and as part of a cooperation of Imperial and Eldar scientific teams and mercenary squads outside of the Inquisition: I find that humans are far more comfortable when aliens look the part of an Imperial leadership role. It earns so much more respect than anyone else just doing their own thing out in the galaxy. Am I right?” Lriean took up his own cigar and brought it to light, inhaling a lungful of toxic smoke before exhaling it back out in a thick cloud.

“You are not the leader of this archeological expedition, alien, you are merely one who we may require expertise from while we follow our guides.” Lyria snorted with a small amount of disgust.

“Hmmm, which is why I acquired squad Averticus to be my bodyguard for the duration of this exploration effort instead of some average Imperial guard, surely?” Lriean feigned a look of general confusion before going back to his confident smirk.

“Our squad protects you because normal guard would probably have little tolerance for alien minds and their ways. We are far more disciplined and keep our ultimate goals in mind.” Ameni exhaled a puff of smoke through her nostrils, kicked her feet up on the pew in front of her and made herself comfortable.

“Oh, I’ve worked with many Imperials in my travels across the galaxy, they are not too bad. Sure we avoid anything that doesn’t honor the truce between mankind and eldar, but those places are few and far in between.” Lriean smiled his genuine smile at the pair of Sororitas and hospitallers. “Such things aside though, I hope your squad is ready to protect me if things go wrong down in the under city. I assured your Inquisitor that my team could protect itself, but when Nyst finally tracks us down, we’ll need some aid.”


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