Tanna Ain't Delicate - Shadowghost35 (2024)

Inquisitor Amberley Vail Commentary, Inquisition Ordo Xenos Eyes Only Sealed by order of Inquisitor Amberley Vail, M41

I was keenly aware Foothill knew something. That much was obvious. As was his inexperience in navigating a combat zone. I noted, watching as Jurgen helped the young man up. His attire would place him as the fourth son of a minor agriworld noble. The kind you would see helping wrangle a hundred head of grox, yet his stub pistol was obviously archeotech. He spoke Cadian cant with a Nethaman drawl yet couldn't understand Low Gothic completely, yet understood Valhallan and was currently muttering Rynnic Curses with practiced ease, as if he grew up a child of the Crimson Fists.

"Pinche hijo de puta mutante.." he muttered, I let out a small laugh, catching Cain's attention.
"He's surprisingly competent…he saved my life." Cain spoke, moving to my right as we watched the young man interact with Jurgen.
"He hasn't missed a shot yet." I note, agreeing with a small nod. I wasn't sure yet if that feat was skill or attributed to the archeotech pistol.
"Yet can't understand that getting a Genestealer Patriarch's attention is a good way to get fragged." Cain Shot back, I shrugged in response.

It was obvious the boy had a noble streak from his actions during the battle. I remember that thinking at this time he would make a good bodyguard, with proper training, and beating that self-sacrificial nature of his out of him. Years later I would ask him about his time there on Gravalax, which at this point, had been roughly thirty minutes. Many of my inquisitorial compatriots questioned by decision to recruit an unknown element into my retinue.

If we knew then what we know today, I would've shot David. Save myself years of trouble. Still. He had just saved our lives, so I granted him the benefit of the doubt, deciding that having an unknown would be more useful in Inquisitorial custody than dead or in the wind. I sometimes wonder if he realized that I wasn't helping him when I took him, he knew what I was and the power I held, he would reveal to me later, so he couldn't have been naïve enough to follow along like some lost dog.

David James Foothill, Legios Repentia in the retinue of Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos.

I wasn't naïve but I was definitely desperate enough. That's right Vail, I read your commentaries. Whatcha gonna do about it? Anyways, I composed myself and nodded in thanks towards Jurgen.
"Spasibo, sir." I spoke, nodding my head at the Valhallan. Who simply nodded. I noted that I couldn't notice his signature stench, but I had other things to worry about. I noticed the marksman, I heard Cain call him Sorel, and the two began chattering to each other in low gothic.

I focused on quickly checking myself for wounds, finding none, I let out a sigh of relief and reloaded my last full magazine. As Cain, Vail, Jurgen and Sorel caught up, and explained my presence, I took a look around the chamber we were in, acting on a hunch, I cracked open one of the crates that was scattered around the room, one of the few that wasn't blasted by lasfire.
"Nice." I muttered, picking out a large frame stub revolver with a swing out cylinder, still in its munitorum packaging, I checked the bore, no pitting or excessive wear, chambers looked clean. "You're a pretty thing, ain't ya?" It had a ported barrel, and was chambered in what looked like an equivalent to 500 Smith & Wesson Magnum. Five shots in a cylinder. I turned to face the group of guardsmen and the Inquisitor, who's gaze snapped to me for a split second, I gestured to the revolver with my head, silently requesting permission. No use getting shot over something this minor. She gave a slight nod, nearly imperceptible before returning her attention to Cain and the others.

I quickly loaded the revolver with what I deduced to be brass penetrator slugs, snapped the cylinder shut, and stored it in the back of my waistband. I made sure to requisition a proper hip holster for it as soon as I could later on, but my options were limited at the time. I joined their group quietly. Catching some of their conversation when I put in the effort to listen.
"...Standard Operating Procedure." Jurgen spoke as we made our way up to the top of the stairs, reaching the top, a solid wooden door blocking our path.
"I see." Vail this time, she pointed at the door. "Jurgen, if you'd be so kind?" The grin that lit up Jurgen's face was contagious as he squared up with the door and let loose with that Melta. He slagged the door and a good portion of the wall. Sunlight broke through the smoke, a tense silence settling over the group as it began to clear. The distinctive sound of a bolt shell going off heralded Sorel's head exploding in a shower of gray matter. Jurgen and I surged forward practically in sync. I shoulder checked Jurgen as the second shot that would've knocked him unconscious instead zipped in the air where his head used to be and between Cain and Vail. It knocked him to the floor in a tangle of limbs, but he was still mobile. I could see the perpetrator, Governor Grice. Genestealer Patriarch and bloated mess of a body horror monstrosity…who was also aiming a bolter at me. Yeah I didn't really think the action of trying to keep Jurgen in the fight through, as now I was the target of Grice's ire.

Have you ever felt the sensation of a rocket propelled explosive zipping an inch past your ear? It's not pleasant, the reminder of your mortality and powerlessness in the face of the power that the horrors of this universe hold. Having to move forward through grit and faith, pushing through fear and terror, channeling the emotions into rage. Rage. It's a hell of anesthetic, and enough of an adrenaline stimulant that I had enough gumption to return fire. Cursing with enough Vitriol to make an Imperial Navyman proud.
"Scum sucking, kin-f*cking, traitorous f*ckER!" I shouted, my first sentence in Low Gothic, I might add. I'm particularly proud of that. "COVER PLEASE!" I shouted as another bolter shell detonated the wooden buttress I was taking cover behind. Bolt shells and lasbolts joined my bullets in return fire. I've hit this bastard with six rounds already. How is he still shooting?! I heard the hum of Jurgen's melta and hit the dirt just before he glassed the whole corridor, and I witnessed the lower body of Governer Grice Slump to the floor, a charred stump where his head used to be, three arms splayed out around him.
"...holy sh*t, Jurgen."

Translations:

Pinche hijo de puta mutante
f*cking mutant son of a bitch, Spanish.
Spasibo
Thank You, Russian.

I did my best to blend into the rubble as the events of Gravalax came to a close, with Cain and Vail speaking to the PDF General and explaining the situation. At this point I had definitely looked the part of a Civilian Conscript. Covered in dirt and blood, I could feel the aches from small wounds darting my body, shrapnel from destroyed cover splintering, and general exhaustion. I heard a few footsteps approach me, turning to face the Commissar himself. Ciaphas f*cking Cain. Jurgen followed close behind.

"I can't figure you out, Foothill." He spoke plainly, I was having an easier time tracking his low gothic, and I knew it wasn't natural. "Why put yourself at risk? You had options to get away in the confusion." I simply shrugged before preparing my response, my low gothic broken and slow.

"I would be concerned about myself, if I were you, Foothill. Come. Have a good evening, Commissar, Jurgen." With that, we separated ourselves from the Vallhallan 597th. I followed Vail quietly, letting her air of authority drive away curious guardsmen and PDF Forces.

We made our way to her base of operations, waiting there was a number of people. The rogue trader was obvious, his boisterous outfit practically screamed it. She practically ignored him before handing my pistol to another man. This one covered in Bionics that made my skin crawl looking at them.

"Examine this weapon. I have reason to believe it to be Archeotech. Tell no one until I give the order. And for the love of the Emperor: Get. Rakel. Now." Everyone in the room tensed as her tone went from friendly to Ice Cold. Their curious gazes going from idle to focused in a second. She gestured to a room that was obviously a makeshift interrogation cell. With a heavy sigh I entered. She stood by the entrance, blocking it with her body. She pulled a dataslate from behind the doorframe and tapped a few inputs before speaking.

"David James Foothill. Real name unknown. Age: twenty-five to twenty-six terran years. Planet of Origin: Unknown. Inmate was in possession of an archeotech stub pistol when taken into inquisitorial custody and drafted into a penitent squad consisting of David James Foothill. Interrogation proceeding. Sanctioned Psyker Rakel, in service to Inquisitor Amberley Vail is present. Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos, Is commencing the interrogation." She spoke into a com-bead linked to the dataslate before addressing me, I could see a dark haired woman in a green gown poking her head around the edge of the doorway. Her eyes locked with mine and shined with interest, losing the haze that shrouded them before. Vail gestured at the table in the center of the room, two chairs on either side. "Sit, Inmate." my nerves were beginning to get to me as I hesitated.

"Now David. I'm not blind. You risked yourself and facilitated the eradication of the Genestealer Patriarch formerly known as Governor Grice. You complied with orders quickly, performed admirably in combat. However, you're an unknown. I. Don't. Like. Unknowns." Her voice was an angry growl that I felt in my bones. "So. I'm going to ask you a few questions. You're going to answer them. And Rakel is going to see if you're telling the truth or not."

"Yes Ma'am." I replied quickly, nodding.

"Always good to have a spare." Rakel again, Vail feigns considering that course of action before asking the next question.

"Well then, from interrogation to Interview. What makes you worth saving the bolt shell? How can you be of use?" She crosses her arms under her chest, glaring at me imperiously.

"Yes. I can use this. Inmate David James Foothill. You are officially being taken into the custody of His Emperor's Holy Inquisition, Ordo Xenos. Despite the severity of your crimes, you are being granted the honor of serving as Legios Repentia. I will be watching you closely. Perform your assigned duties without question from now on, would you kindly? I would hate to have to splatter such a bright young brain all over the wall."

My forehead hit the table with an audiblethunkas my shoulders slumped in relief.

"Vete la verga,that was close."

Legios Repentia David James Foothill, M41

LRDJF: The FNX-45 is a short recoil operated .45 caliber semi automatic handgun first released by FN Herstal in 2012. It is an evolution of the FNP series of handguns, addressing the issues that those pistols had and updating the ergonomics with modern handgun operation in mind. This particular model is the FNX-45 Tactical pattern. Featuring a threaded barrel, an Optics-Ready slide, and suppressor height tritium night sights. I've thoroughly broken in this model, having fired over a thousand rounds of 230 grain hollow point ammunition through it prior to being transported to the 41st millennium. I currently have a Holosun 507C Optic installed, which features a solar panel to extend the battery life and three different reticles that I don't have the patience to explain right now.

-1 Year added to Sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Insolence-

LRDJF: The .45 Automatic Colt Pistol cartridge that it is chambered in is one of the oldest still in service cartridges known to mankind. My preferred loading is a 230 Grain Jacketed Hollow Point flying at roughly 930 feet per second. Hitting with almost five hundred foot pounds of energy on target, it has proven effective on both charging quadrupeds and bipeds. Some of my contemporaries will say that modern 9mm ammunition has the same amount of energy on target. While this is true with higher pressure ammunition, I personally shoot .45 better than I shoot 9mm. Shoot what you shoot well. Because if you miss it means jack sh*t how powerful your bullet is.

I rocked backwards, reeling from a strike to the nose that slipped my guard. Damn she's a fast woman. Inquisitor Vail shoots me a smirk as she hops on her feet, hands wrapped in bandages, her coat removed and set to the side. I myself was down to my undershirt and slacks, my hands bare.
"You said your father taught you how to fight with your hands, David. Show me!" She says, shaking the blood off of her right hand. I let out a growl as I got my guard back up. Two days after my interrogation and official induction into Vail's retinue the inquisitor herself was rather busy, dealing with the remnants of the Loyalist and Xenoist conflict. Prior to this she had me going over the arsenal, cleaning and fixing the retinue's equipment. I could've gone without Orelius covering his bolter in mud to be a dick about it, but I dealt with it. Now, she's decided to test my capabilities in combat. I suspect she just wanted to blow off steam after dealing with blowhard politicians all day.

"The last time I was in a fist fight wasten years ago,dangummit!"I snarl out, ducking a jab and blocking the follow up cross with my elbow. "If I'm gonna be hitting the Tyson, I'd best have Thunderstrike Gauntlets!" I snap a quick kick into her chest, pushing her back.

"Who the bloody hell is Tyson?!" Vail asks, before ducking forward and launching into the signature combination of the former heavyweight champion. A right hook into a right uppercut, she even shifted into the southpaw stance right. I threw my forehead into the hook and leaned away from the uppercut.

"Someone whose style you should not have enough weight to use effectively, yet the stinging in my face says otherwise." I spit out before launching into my own offensive. Feinting a low kick before snapping up with the same foot and cracking it against the side of her face. She shakes her head whilst bringing her guard back up.

"It's hand to hand combat, not head to foot!" she growls out, I shrug.

"Blame the Koreans, not me! I just learned the style!" Which was correct. My dad was a third degree black belt in Tae Kwon Do, and I learned to appreciate how a fast kick to the head can shock an unprepared opponent.

"You kicked me, I'm blaming you." Vail grumbles out before she lashes out again and I'm knocked onto my ass by a sweep and her retaliatory kick to the side of my head sends my vision swimming. I groan as I stagger to my feet, using the wall as support. Guess she decided to stop taking it easy. I didn't expect to win, and I had only gotten her onto the ground twice in our spars so far.

"I don't want to know what you have planned if you expect me to throw hands with an Ork." I mutter, rubbing my aching jaw.

"I believe Rakel suggested preparing for the worst. I'm an Inquisitor. Getting within melee range of an Ork is one of many 'the worsts' that I can think of." Vail quips, sipping from a bottle of water, her coat draped over her shoulder.

"I can still fold a Tau's clothes with them still in 'em." Yes, I know it's a stereotype. Don't care. Gonna do it. Eventually. If I can get close enough whilst not getting shot. Vail lets out a snicker hidden behind her bottle as she catches her breath. Seeming to hesitate, she turns to face me.

"I have a question, Foothill." Vail starts, gesturing at me with her bottle. "According to you, and Rakel's mind reading. You were born in the early part of M3. Yet, despite your having little to no psyker potential. At least according to Rakel. You have knowledge that most of my compatriots would shoot you over. Whenever I ask Rakel as you why this is, she starts cackling like a madwoman. It'smaddening." I let out a deep sigh at this, I knew it would come up eventually, and lying to her is a B.A.D Bad Idea.

(Note From Inquisitor Amberley Vail: Smart Boy)

"Theoretical: If you found yourself in a setting you thought to just be a story, a fantasy, and have to use the knowledge of that setting to survive. Despite that setting being known as one of the darkest in Fiction, what would you do?" I ask, answering her question with another question.

"Practical: I would use my knowledge of the setting to put myself at an advantageous position." Vail responds without hesitation, smirk teasing her lips.

"Like allying yourself with an Individual with nearly unchecked authority, putting yourself in a position where your usefulness outweighs the risks involved with taking on an unknown? Changing events that occurred in the setting to provide an enticing reason to take on said unknown?" I expand, turning to face her. "I didn't really have a choice, but I did change how things were supposed to go. Jurgen was supposed to get knocked out by a bolt shell to the helmet, end up in the field hospital. I figured I would save him some pain, in the memoirs, you take out Grice with that poison dart in your ring." I watch her carefully, watching as realization dawns on her face.

"Who's memoirs?" She asks, voice a whisper. I let a small grin grow on my face.

"Ci-Ci-Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium!"I sing, holding back a chuckle before shaking my head.

"That's what Rakel's been humming all day?!"Vail snarls, doing her best impression of an Eldar banshee as she seemingly teleports into my face to grab a fistful of my shirt. I raise my hands in a show of surrender.

"We've got bigger problems than a stupid theme song that wasn't even canon."

"She projected it into my thoughts, Emperor damn it!"

"...I beg forgiveness, Lady Inquisitor."

It takes a few minutes to placate Vail, and soon enough I find myself sitting at the interrogation table again, Vail and Rakel present. Vail speaks first, addressing Rakel.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She snarls, glaring at Rakel, who seems unfazed, eyes glazed over.

"Orders from on high, Lady Inquisitor~" Rakel replies, swaying in her seat, a reverent smile growing on her face.

"Orders?!Orders?!" Vail snarls, about to tear into the psyker before a presence fills the room, Rakel's eyes shining gold as a Voice fills the minds of the three of us. The image of a skeleton, seated on a throne of gold, red bionic eye seemingly locked onto me fills my mind.

"Calm yourself, child."The Emperor of Mankind speaks. "The psyker did as I bid. As will you. The young man has a purpose here. He must remain in your retinue to fulfill it."His voice is powerful. Charismatic, despite the morbid visage he projects before my eyes. "And you, *****."He speaks my true name, a baleful light shining in that red eye.

"I will be watching your career with great interest. You know of the events to come. Your own nature compels you to act. As such, I charge you with this: Act. Do not hesitate, for the enemy will not. Changes have already been set in motion, the waves grow, and the Enemy adapts. You must as well. Learn what the Inquisitor will teach you. Learn the ways of war, son, for I have chosen you for a purpose. It is up to you to prove if you can fulfill it." His voice goes from powerful pseudo-deity, to tired commander in an instant. My heart is pounding in my chest, the vision shifts to a man in golden armor, dark hair obscuring his face before he lifts his head, a smile filled with mischief plastered on it. "Besides, this place could use some lightening up, don't you think?"Melodious laughter fills our minds as it slowly fades alongside the vision. I lock eyes with Vail, who's staring at me, slack jawed.

"Amasec"
"Amasec"

Rakel, finding this whole interaction hilarious, joined Big E by cackling like a hyena.

Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Gravatrax, Ultima Segmentum, M41

"Karking Administratum…" I muttered, typing away on the dataslate as I left the cell. I left David in there for Rakel to play with. She'd report what she's pulling out of his mind. She gave me enough to work with for now. Still. I will admit that my curiosity was spurred. Idly, I took out my bolter, muttering the rite of unloading and disassembly under my breath. It was a routine check, something I had done hundreds of times before. Yet, with a discerning eye, I went over what David told me. Carbon buildup had scarred the action of my pistol. I could hardly see the metal underneath the black ash coating the inside of the action. I muttered a curse under my breath as my fingers came away black.

"All this, from sound alone?" I whispered to myself, rubbing my fingers together. One thought burst to the forefront of my mind. "The mechanicus can never find out about him. He'll either be branded a heretek or the next Belisarius Cawl." I could hear Orelius let out a laughing scoff.

"That fourthborn? Are you serious?" He asked, I turned to face him, my gaze holding no humor.

"A firstborn son, actually. Who was able to deduce what ammunition I was using, and diagnose my bolter's machine spirit.By sound alone in the middle of a firefight!Emperor Damn It! It'd be impressive if it wasn't so karking frustrating." I growled out, glaring at him. "And the boy is so damned earnest! He can't lie to save his life! Rakel is acting like she found a little brother to dote over, or perhaps she wishes to bed him.I can't tell!" I let out a huff, watching as Orelion raised his hands in a show of surrender, cowed by my frustration. Good. I leaned back in my seat, letting out a heavy sigh. I enjoyed maybe thirty seconds of peace before Mott burst through the door, holding David's archeotech pistol as if it was a holy relic.

(See Inquisitorial Asset Report FN45X1: Archeotech Stub Pistol, Cal. 45)

"Manufactorum Records indicate this weapon was crafted in M3, lady Inquisitor!" He practically shouts, and I have to dart forward and tear the damn thing from his hands to keep Orelion from claiming the relic for himself.

"Neither the Mechanicus, NOR THE KARKING BLOOD RAVENS, are to hear a word about any of this.Am I understood?!" I burst out in a rage, frustration boiling over. I'll admit, not really the impression I prefer to give to my retinue, but Rakel's giggling echoing out of the cell room had been steadily grating on my nerves. Alongside that, the revelation dropped the mother of all puzzle pieces into my lap. A flash ofgoldlight. According to Rakel. Who's currently in a conversation with David. Who more likely than not was shunted through the warp and time.

Emperor above she's going to eat that boy alive.

David James Foothill, Legios Repentia, Gravalax, M41, Administratum Transcription of post-interrogation interaction with Sanctioned Psyker Rakel. Sealed by order of Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos.

LRDJF: Is there a reason the Inquisitor left you with me alone or are you just perpetuating the 'quirky psyker' stereotype?
(Note from Ordo Xenos Inquisitor Vail: More often than not this stereotype has proven true. If you count sudden chaos beast incursion as 'quirky')

-Ten years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill. Charge: Cheek.-

SPsyR: -giggling steadily growing in volume- You're coming along for the ride, Davey~

-Ten Years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Insolence. Reference Incident Report IV88LRDJF862 'Tres Leches Cake Incident'-

SPsyR: You have a part to play, David. I would suggest preparing for the worst!~

-Giggling slowly gaining more and more volume, maintaining crescendo even when the sound of a door being slammed open is heard.-

IAV: The Karking ThirdMillennium, Foothill?!

IAV: I don'tcare! Withholding information crucial to the duties of an Inquisitor! Eighty Years! You're lucky you're bloody useful Foothill!

-Eighty Years Added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill-

-Ten Years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Insolence-

IAV: David James Foothill, you're now in charge of weapons maintenance for my entire retinue. -A metallic thunk, Inquisitor Amberley Vail places Asset FNX45X1 onto the table- Your pistol's machine spirit is proving stubbornly loyal. (See Incident Report FN45X2) Seeing how effective you've been with it. Proven you can appease said machine spirit.

LRDJF: The humble stub revolver. Available in a variety of calibers and configurations, the one currently in my possession is a heavy framed model. Reminiscent of the Smith and Wesson X-Frame, it features a five round cylinder chambered in 500 Smith & Wesson Magnum. I'll admit, I was expecting more antiquated designs when I was first brought here, but compared to the Zarona and Agripina subtypes, it seems swing out cylinders were the more common in the Imperium.

Now why would a swing out design be preferable to a break open design, you may ask? Points. of. Failure. You want as little as possible, and having a hinge right at where the pressure from the cartridge going off is a good way to blow up a gun. having a solid frame allows for higher pressures and heavier ammunition, which considering the size difference between the average guardsman and say, an Ork? Heavier grain projectiles become a necessity.

Theoretical: You are a guardsman, you're being charged by an approximately Eight Hundred pound Ork armed with a choppa. What do you do?

"Not talking about it." I mutter, poring over the disassembled bolt pistol on the table in front of me. Half empty bottle of amasec resting on the corner of the table. Vail snatched said bottle and settled into the chair across from me.

"You'll talk as much as I need you to, Foothill." Vail snarked at me, taking a long pull from the bottle as I scrubbed at her bolt with a brass brush. "We just had an experience that the Ecclesiarchy would declare us Saints over. We have to talk about it."

"Big E himself stopping by, giving orders to you, practically declaring me the court jester of the 41st millenium. If the Harlequins ever find out I'll have to deal with those assholes. And I don't want to deal with 'Cegorach's Rose.' that's one flower I don't want to smell. Nuh uh." I shake my head, beginning to reassemble the bolt pistol bit by bit. I wasn't much of a drinker, and alcohol plus firearms is always a bad idea, but even so I needed the liquid courage after that debacle.

"David, the Emperor gave you orders. It is your duty, as a human being, to see them through." Vail persists, gesturing at me with her bottle. "Do you have any idea how many people have killed and died to be in your position?"

"Yes. Doesn't mean I have to like it. 'Sides, we got a whole year to prep before Cain stumbles onto a Necron tomb world whilst battling Orks. Oh yeah, Simia Oricalcae is a tomb world. Probably a good thing to know." I mumble, cursing slightly under my breath as I futz with the final pin on Vail's bolt pistol, getting it into place with an Audible 'click'. "Look, I'm willing to do what I can to keep more folks alive but I know how this game goes. I do anything too big, one of the big bad Four takes notice and then we have real problems. You and yours should know the advantages of flying under the radar, Inquisitor."

"Is that how you want to play this? Throw the whole thing under the rug and let the stones fall where they may? Maybe change a thing or two along the way?" Vail has a hint of disdain in her voice which has me snapping my head up from my work and glaring at her.

"I'm saying that if we can keep this under wraps to the three of us, yes Iseeyou, Rakel! We can slip beneath the notice of beings that could kill us by looking at us. I am an unmodified human man. A single human man that's not even trained as much as the average guardsman. Cain is a master Duelist who will eventually take out a Khornate space marine in melee combat. You have lord knows how many years of experience. Rakel's a psyker. Orelius, the asshole, Is a Rogue Trader with a whole ass ship. I am not prepared to fight a war in the 41st Millenium, Inquisitor!" I snarl out, slamming a fist onto the table with enough force to make the bolt pistol bounce on the table. "If I want to be able to actually change sh*t I have to make use of this relatively quiet year to get up to snuff. Which means training, learning how things have changed or stayed the same in thirty-eight thousand years…and hitting the goddamn gym." I let my forehead hit the table with a groan.

"David, you have information I can use now, why not tell me more?" Vail asks, I turn my head to look at her with one eye.

"You have to understand that I only have a passing knowledge of a few things, I didn't pour over every book looking for every detail. Yes I had an interest and I know a bit about the setting that we're in. But years, details, names. These are forty years of lore and development that's been retconned, evolved, resurrected and so forth. I can tell you that in 68 years, Cadia will fall. In 68 years, Lord Commander Guilliman will return. Yet none of that makes a difference as to the situation we're in now. So I ask you this: You can black box me. Have me sitting in a room with Rakel tearing my brain apart to draw out what I know. Or would you rather have an asset that you can actually use for more practical purposes.?" I explain, staring her down. She remained stone-faced. I knew she wouldn't hesitate to do just that, have me sent to some room with a pen and paper, writing out reports of what I knew, what little I knew, and I could still be there until the end of my days.

"If I were to black box you, David, I would have to deal with the consequences of violating orders given to me by theEmperor Himself!" Vail responds, throwing her hands up in frustration. "'He must remain in your retinue!' 'The young man has a purpose here.' I swear there's likely already an Aquilan Shield en route to us!" my head snapped back up straight, glaring at the inquisitor.

"Don't you put that evil on us! If we have to deal with a ten foot tall genetically modified warrior noble, I'm going to find a way to make you regret it!"

"I already am." Vail accentuated her last statement with a long pull from the bottle of Amasec.

After a few weeks, a routine came about. I would spend a few hours a day performing maintenance on the retinue's weapons; we had left Orelius' Ship to Amberley's ownExternus Exterminatus.The yacht was larger than the term would suggest, and it was here where I had my first involvement with the Adeptus Mechanicus. Yanbel, Tech Priest of Vail's Retinue, honestly I was expecting him to try and drill a hole in my head.

"Are you certain you do not wish to make the pilgrimage to Mars?" He had asked, I could see Mott lurking by the bulkhead we had entered through.

"I like my hands flesh, Yanbel, while I can admit there are advantages to augmetics, I would prefer to be able to feel things. The recoil, the impact of a fight, a woman. I can't do that with steel." I replied, shrugging my shoulders.

"There are many tech priestesses within the Mechanicum that would dispute that." Yanbel shot back, I shook my head with a chuckle.

"Not the point, Yanbel."

"You are a repository of knowledge that the Imperium and Mechanicum can actively use to improve our war efforts and munitions, it is my duty as a priest of mars to at the very least attempt to acquire you into our ranks." Yanbel continued as we walked through the ship, I could see Vail rolling her eyes as she passed by my workstation.

"Cease trying to poach my Quartermaster, Tech-Priest." She quipped as she passed, causing Yanbel to snap his mechadendrites in her direction agitatedly. I was currently finishing up the last of the routine maintenance before reporting for PT.

"I got to get going, man.Vaya con Dios." I said, looking over the exterior of a recently reassembled lasgun before returning it to the rack, grime had accumulated in the connectors that would transfer power from the power pack to the rifle itself, had to clean them with isopropyl alcohol.

"The Omnissiah knows all, David."

"GET OFF YOUR ARSE, FOOTHILL! MOVE! MOVE! MOVE!"'Flicker' Pelton shouted, as I was running laps around the gymnasium section of the yacht. "I ain't never seen such an embarrassing recruit in my life. What are you, some cushy noble?!" The verbal abuse isn't anything new. I had been dealing with it for over six weeks at this point, I was on a strict diet, a stricter training regime, and even stimulants to promote muscle growth. I had objected to those initially, but Vail pulled the Inquisitor card and made it an order.

(Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: Shut up and take the damn pills David.)
((Note from Legios Repentia David James Foothill: Winners don't do drugs!))
-5 Years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Insubordination, see Incident Report D4U6S-

"I don't know what you did to get yourself on this ship, and I don't much care! The Inquisitor told me to get you into Astra Militarum shape, and by the Emperor I'm going to do so!FASTER!"Pelton continued, I growled as I sped up my pace. While I was slow to build muscle, a problem I'd always had throughout my life, I had toned up quickly. The muscles on my arms became more defined, and I had abs again, which was a pleasure to see. I was lucky to have the opposite problem of most people that hail from the 956, instead of being agorditoI wasuna flacito, a buddy of mine once told me I could eat like an Ogryn and not gain a pound. Heh I could remember my first time in the mess watching Vail's eyes widen as she watched me pack away the double rations quickly.
(Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: It was the first time I had seen a regular human as much food as a Ratling. The reaction was warranted.)

"Sir, yes, Sir!" I called, ducking under a swing from a baton. I had to be fast enough to avoid incoming fire, dive into cover while never stepping back. Retreat was not allowed in Pelton's boot camp.

"That's enough for now, Flicker." The voice of Vail called out from the entrance of the gym, causing Pelton to snap to attention, I would follow suit as well, ignoring Pelton's muttered 'slow'. "Foothill. It's time to see what else you can do other than throw a few punches." She spoke, and I felt a sparkle glint in my eye. One thing that had irked me for the initial period on the yacht, was that outside of maintenance, I had been forbidden from practicing any kind of shooting. (Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: Inquisitorial Regulations prohibit Legios Repentia from practicing marksmanship for a probationary period unless circ*mstances require otherwise. Personally, David needed to squirm a bit for all the trouble.)

A deck lower and another bulkhead allowed us entry into the practice range. 800 meters of adamantine reinforced hull, pocked with scorch marks, dents, and what looks to be the remnants of grenades going off. There were benches, firing lines, and distance markers throughout. One of the benches had been prepped with an array of weaponry, ranging from lasguns of various patterns, such as the long barreled Lucius Pattern, favored by the Death Korps of Krieg, and even the Accatran pattern bullpups. On the other side of the table was a selection of projectile weapons. My stub revolver was present, as well as a few autopistols, and even Vail's bolt pistol. I raised an eyebrow at the Inquisitor.

"You're gonna let me shoot your gun?" I asked.

"Maybe. We're going to be testing your 'operational envelope' I believe you called it. I've seen you work with your archeotech pistol, but I need you to be able to use whatever I put in your hands. So here we are. Pick up the lasgun on the far left of the bench, Quartermaster, and wait for my instruction to fire." Vail spoke, moving to the side of the bench and directing me to a firing lane. I followed the order, picking up the Lucius pattern lasgun I had observed earlier. I nabbed a munitorum standard power pack before entering the marked firing lane.

"Shooter Ready, Inquisitor."

"Charge and fire at the target at one hundred and fifty meters." She ordered. I moved quickly, slamming the power pack into place and pulling the charging handle, reminiscent of a bolt action rifle's bolt handle. I lined up the sights, keeping the front sight level with the rear, I cut the target in half with the front post and squeezed the trigger.

"You're slow, David. Faster. You're not hunting, you're trying to kill him before he kills you. Faster! Three hundred meters!" Vail Shouted, I snapped the sights to the designated target, letting three shots off, they weren't all in the same hole, as my trigger pull isn't perfect, but the non-existent recoil kept the lasers on the target. Or so I thought.

"You pulled your last shot high. You're compensating for drop that isn't there. It's a laser, David. It'slight." Vail criticized, and I felt my pride sting, but I nodded with a sigh. Habits are hard to break. "Next weapon, Center of the table. Use the crimson coloured shells."

The next weapon was an Adeptus Arbites Lawbringer shotgun, a semi-automatic ten gauge shotgun that I found fairly easy to quad load.

"Hundred meters to ten, descending order, FIRE!" This was more familiar territory, even if I had preferred Twelve Gauge, Ten was more powerful, and the overengineered bulk of the lawbringer helped tame that infamous recoil. At one hundred meters the buckshot barely peppered the target, I could see a cloud of dust rise out the ground where pellets had spread, but as I shifted to closer and closer ranges I could see the spread tighten and tighten. Within twenty-five meters I had to be sure to brace harder, as each buckshot round was punching a hole roughly the size of my fist in the targets. At the last target I had to chamber load a round, ignoring the instinct to flinch as Vail fired her bolt pistol into the burm. I blew the head off of the target a split-second later, placed the shotgun on the bench, and looked at her with a raised eyebrow.

"If you can't perform with a little noise, I've no use for you on the battlefield." She explained curtly, I nodded, before gesturing at the shotgun.

"I like this one."

"I noticed."

IAV: Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Speaking with ***** -Audio Censored on Orders of Inquisitor Amberley Vail-, Legios Repentia in the service of Inquisitor Amberley Vail, beginning interview.

LRDJF: Please just stick with David. Having my real name rolling around the 41st Millennium may not be the best move for any of us.

IAV: I was actually wondering why you've been choosing that name, is there a reason behind it?

LRDJF: The simple answer is that David and James are the names of my father's father and grandfather, respectively. Great Grandpa James served in the second world war, and grandpa David taught me how to shoot.

IAV: And the non-simple answer?

LRDJF: David is the name of a Shepherd's youngest son who felt the call of duty to fight against the Champion of an opposing country. Despite being little more than a child, and fighting Goliath, a man who was four feet taller than he was and outweighed him by at least a hundred pounds. He went forward in Faith, and with naught but a sling and three smooth stones, he put Goliath in the ground. James was a martyr, one of the first.

IAV: And Foothill?

LRDJF: That, for all intents and purposes, is directly translated.

LRDJF: Inquisitor Vail's bolt pistol is the love child between the gyrojet pistols and a Draco style AK-Pattern pistol. It fires a .75 Caliber projectile initially leaving the muzzle at just over two thousand feet per second, with the rocket of the projectile accelerating after it leaves the muzzle to over three thousand feet per second down range. At which distance it reaches said speed is dependent on the ammunition used. Vail favors a high velocity adamantine projectile, I've noticed. Which, considering that her pistol has about an inch and a half of dwell time before the projectile reaches the giant ports in the barrel, is likely the only ammo that can run this f*ckin thing!

-a heavy glass thunk resounds as Legios Repentia David James Foothill slams a bottle of Amasec onto the work table.-

LRDJF: -sigh- don't worry, I'll fix you up good. For those who aren't ballistically inclined dwell time is the length of barrel that is after the gas ports of said barrel. Ideally you want a bit more than an inch and a f*ckin half.

-audible gulps before the amasec bottle is slammed into the table again-

LRDJF: the designers that converted this from a carbine to a pistol made the decision to oversize the gas ports instead of giving the barrel a bit more length. Which leaves me with a few options. I can get ahold of or manufacture a new slightly longer barrel, opting for an omnidirectional muzzle brake instead of the two large horizontal ports on the end of this one. This would increase dwell time and eliminate the need for overgassing the gun while only adding about three inches in length. Don't you worry. We're gonna have you singing with every shot, you just let uncle David fix you up right.

(Note From Inquisitor Amberley Vail: the Godwyn-Foothill pattern Bolt Pistol was initially met with some derision, with some traditionalist sects of the mechanicus declaring it tech heresy. Until I placed First in the Inquisitorial Wargames later that year, wielding said bolter. It is slowly gaining more and more momentum with its reputation for reliability in almost any environment. 'The f*cking thing must work' indeed.)

Days turn to weeks as training continues, I'm poked and prodded by medicae, injected with drugs and vaccines I can only pray won't lead to more than just a few days discomfort. Although, there's precious little comfort in the 41st millennium. I was either working, training, or passed out from exhaustion. This cycle would repeat, with only little deviation for about another month, until Amberley approached the retinue with an announcement.

"The Annual Inquisitorial Wargames for the Ordo Xenos have been announced. We are to engage the Inquisitor Drogan and his retinue. Inquisitor Drogan is a psyker, and a Radical, a suspected Xanthist." She spoke, and whispers broke out amongst the retinue. I wracked my brain, the name sounded familiar.

"We will be traveling to Graia, rendezvousing with Orelius and theLucre Foedisto bolster our ranks. Foothill, Yanbel. I want the Godwyn-Foothill pattern Bolt Pistol ready and reliable before we reach Graia. Flicker, I want Foothill to be able to put his foot through Drogan's tonsils, and for you to be able to do the same!Make it happen!" Vail called out, dismissing us, our dataslates pinging with updated orders and schedules. Welp…there goes my sleep.

My first set of orders was to report to training with Flicker, and immediately after I enter the ring, I'm set upon like I jaywalked on Nostromo. I'm ducking, deflecting as best I can, but I can feel the baton sinking into my ribs and battering my guard insistently.

"Come on, David! You're Faster than this! Show me I haven't been wasting my time!FIGHT!"Flicker shouted as I ducked a horizontal swing. My fist hit his jaw with a satisfying'Crack',but I had to get back on the defensive right after that.

"Vete…la pinche…verga!"The curses leave my mouth as I dodge Flicker's furious swings by pure luck. Flicker overextends just a smidge, and I'm able to get into his guard, slamming my elbow into his jaw hard enough to send a tooth flying. Flicker hits the ground, out cold. Honestly I still don't believe warp f*ckery wasn't involved with that.
(Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: David unfortunately has the same issue as Ciaphas. Refusing to attribute an actually impressive display of skill to their own efforts. The forced humility irks me to this day.)
((Note from Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: The kid knows not to get a big head. Can't fault him for that, Amberley.))
(((Note From Legios Repentia David James Foothill: Ain't you supposed to be Dead Ciaphas?)))
((((Note from Caiaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: Shut your karking mouth, David.))))

I called the Medicae over to take care of Flicker and took the sudden opening in my schedule as a chance to guzzle down some water and wrack my brain. That name, Inquisitor Drogan. Something Familiar, psyker, Xanthist, wants to use warp weapons against the Xenos. C'mon Foothill think. After a few minutes of this, I decided to go for the nuclear option. Memory Refresher via Rakel. With a heavy sigh I make my way through the yacht, finding Rakel's quarters fairly quickly. We hadn't entered warp travel yet, the crew was still making preparations, so we likely had a day or two before we had to deal with Tzeenchian f*ckery™.

(Note From Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: I still don't understand how he got the Administratum to approve that notarization.)
((Note from Legios Repentia David James Foothill: I made the Big Man™ laugh.))
(((Note from Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: Fair Enough.)))

The door to Rakel's quarters opened up before I could knock, like always. Rakel was in a green dress once again, this one not showing as much cleavage but still clinging to her and accentuating her curves. Dark hair framing eyes shining with mischief and madness. Big E, why are all the women on this ship beautiful butf*cking terrifying.

(Note from Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, The Big E, The Best Dad: Grow a backbone and you might actually appreciate it.)
((Note from Legios Repentia David James Foothill: You got a lotta nerve having that last bit in your title old man.))
(((Note from Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, The Big E, The Best Dad: Do something about it, Nerd.)))
-Legios Repentia David James Foothill title updated to: Imperial Nerd David James Foothill by Order of Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, The Big E, The Best Dad, The Big Man™-

Rakel giggled at my hesitation before waving me into her quarters.

"And so David comes to Bathsheba…seeking succor and knowledge." She whispers, and the shiver that runs down my spine at her voice returns.

"I'm just gonna…gloss over that and ask for some assistance in clearing out this freaking mental block I've got concerning this Drogan Character. I know something about him, but every time I try to focus on what I know, it drifts away. Something ain't right, and I've got a feeling if I don't figure out what's going on with the Zorg-looking f*ck it's going to bite us in the ass." I speak, snapping my fingers "Like right there! Zorg-Looking f*ck! I haven't seen any holographs of this guy but that came out automatically."

"You keep letting me into your head so easily, David, and I may be tempted to stay~" Rakel laughs, head twitching as she sashays her way to poke and prod at my temples. "We need to get you started on training your mental barriers, prayers and faith may work now, but if I just poke that squishy brain matter just right, I can have you drooling at my feet." she's smiling as she says this, face inches away from mine.

"My powers have only gotten stronger since the Emperor graced us with his presence. I can shake off the haze easier and easier, I can sense the denizens easier, throw out false trails to keep them away from us. I ripped the geas on your memory the moment you crossed the threshold." With this she pulls away, twirling with a giggle and co*cking her hip to one side.

(Note from Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, The Big E, The Best Dad, The Big Man™: Rakel is Best Girl™)
((Note From Imperial Nerd David James Foothill: This explains so much.))
(((Note from Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, The Big E, The Best Dad, The Big Man™: I reiterate: Do something about it, Nerd.)))

I let out a heavy sigh as I leaned against the bulkhead door of Rakel's quarters, deciding to talk through my reminiscing.

"Okay, so, Graia, I know that name, forge world. It's supposed to get hit with a dual Ork-slash-Chaos Marine invasion that gets foiled by the Ultra-Smurfs, well in all honesty one Ultra-Smurf, Captain Titus. Okay, yeah, starts with Titus fighting through Orks, Cadian Shock Troops are there. What happened next, c'mon, Titus shoots a bunch of Orks, picks up a thunder hammer…meets up with this Zorg-Looking Inquisitor type, shadypendejoby the name of Drogan. I mean, it's fairly obvious the guy is bad news. I mean, pulling rank on a Space Marine Captain? That's cause enough for suspicion in my book. I mean, the guy tears…open…a portal to the warp in the middle of Graia…'cause he's possessed and already dead by the time the invasion occurs…f*ck!"As realization dawns I dash out the door, trying to find the Inquisitor. I bowl over a few crewmen in my mad dash, shouting apologies as Isprintthrough the corridors towards Vail's Quarters. I burst through the semi-open bulkhead like a bat out of hell.

"AMBERLEY WE GOT A PROBLEM!"I shout, ignoring the lasbolt singing a line through the hair on the side of my head. It seems Vail was looking over dataslates herself, sitting at an elaborate desk.

"...So it would seem." Vail speaks with a sigh, placing the laspistol on the desk calmly. "Now would you explain why you're barging around my ship like a drunk Ork?"

"The Inquisition is putting us against either a Zorg-Looking f*ck of a Daemonhost." I stated simply. "Or, at the very least, a man who's going to get himself killed and worn as a meat suit if he isn't one yet."

"That…is indeed a problem. This information is reliable?" Vail asks, I nod gravely.

"Tears open a portal to the warp on Graia in the midst of an Ork invasion that needs the Ultramarine's 2nd Company to intervene." I explain, pulling a chair and taking a seat across from Vail. "So how we going to play this? Hate to put it this way, but we got an opportunity here."

"Yes, if we eliminate Drogan, we can stop an Invasion of the ruinous powers before it can even gain momentum." Vail mutters, tapping on a dataslate as I lean back a bit in shock.

"Immediately going for the lethal option? What if he's not possessed yet? The invasion of Graia by WAAAGH Grimskull is years away…and isn't this an Ordo Malleus Concern?" I ask, playing devil's advocate, which earns me a stern look from the Inquisitor.

"Drogan is an Ordo Xenos Inquisitor, If he's gone Heretic, it isourduty, to take care of him, internally. In addition, you have your orders from the Emperor:Act, David. I would rather not risk inciting the Emperor's wrath for disobeying hisdirect orders, David." Amberley explains as she switches one dataslate for another, "If he's not possessed, that makes our job easier, if he is, then the communique I just sent to the Deathwatch will be of some use indeed. So. If you're done panicking like some whiteshield, I need my bolter completedyesterday, David. Ta Ta~"

Yanbel mostly acted as an Observer, watching as I took the measurements of the disassembled bolt pistol, comparing them to the data package I had requisitioned about the standard Godwyn-De'az pattern bolt pistol.

"So the issues we have to fix our low dwell time and overgassing of the action." I explained, placing the calipers onto the table. "We're going to be upping the barrel length, integrating an omnidirectional muzzle brake instead of the two massive barrel ports, and slightly downsizing the size of the gas ports in the barrel. So, my mechanically inclined friend, can we do that with the materials we have on board?"

"The manufactorum aboard the Exterminatus is capable of replicating an entire engine if the need arises, Quartermaster." Yanbel spoke in a deadpan drawl, which I met with a smirk.

"So you won't complain if I say I want enough adamantine in the barrel of this gun that it'll be Ogryn Tantrum proof?" I shot his way, watching as the gears in his head turned, literally, before he leaned forward, placing his hands on the table and meeting me eye to bionic eye.

"I relish the chance to do the Omnissiah's will, Quartermaster." And with that declaration, we got to work. The first few hours was poring over the data slates, reading the technical data package gathered on the pistol for untold hundreds of years, dimensions, materials, testing requirements and so forth. It was when it was time for machining when things got exciting.

"I need you to cut a feed ramp into the front trunnion of the pistol." I spoke through a breather mask, handing the de-barreled frame of the pistol to Yanbel, "it needs to match perfectly with the angle of the feed ramp of the chamber to be of any use. I'm going to get to work on the barrel."

"Why is this necessary, Quartermaster?" Yanbel asked, even as he did as requested, mechadendrites whirring as they went to work on the pistol. I locked the barrel blank into the lathe, a foot long piece of adamantium with a .75 caliber hole drilled and rifled through the center, it would need to be cut and trimmed to my target length of 5 inches, then threaded to accept the muzzle brake.

"When you shorten an action that is designed to have a certain amount of space to work correctly, you make the action more violent. For a firearm action to function properly, it must, in essence, make a hole, and fill a hole reliably every time. The Godwyn Pattern bolt gun has an eighteen inch barrel. Cutting it down to three and removing the bulk of the action to make it the size of your standard human compromises that reliability without certain design modifications." I explain, starting the lathe and making sure the cutting bit was installed as the workpiece began to spin.

"No offense intended to Godwyn and his associates, but it's obvious that this was a wartime conversion that was never evolved from the base 'does it go boom when I pull the trigger most of the time?' Form. It's already a large, rear heavy handgun, keeping its barrel snubbed does nothing but complicate the action further, reducing that 'make a hole, fill it' reliability."

"'Make a Hole, Fill it' Quartermaster?"

"With the pull of the trigger, the hammer strikes the firing pin, the firing pin strikes the primer of the shell, setting off the primary charge of the bolt shell and sending it down the barrel. The action, pressurized from the gasses filling the barrel and the projectile moving past the gas ports, starts the extraction process, thus, 'Making the hole'." As I speak I'm slowly cutting the blank to length, leaving myself about an extra inch to work with for threading.

"The extractor pulls the spent casing of the bolt shell out of the chamber, the ejector ejects said casing out of the ejection port, the magazine lifts the next shell into position, the action, under spring pressure, rocks back forward, pushing the bolt shell into the chamber with authority. 'Filling the hole.'" I continue, trimming down on the diameter of the blank to help bring down some of the weight but not compromising the 'Ogryn proof' strength.

"If the design of the weapon compromises any of those functions, then it needs to be addressed. Which is what you're doing by cutting that feed ramp into the front trunnion. Without that lip there, it eliminates the issue of the projectile colliding with said lip when feeding, stressing the action unduly, and with the benefit of not marring the projectile, allowing for increased accuracy." Pulling back the cutting bit I ran over the surfaces of the barrel with sandpaper, smoothing out the surface and eliminating any burs. I then prepared the threading chuck on the opposite end of the lathe. I would have to be extremely careful here as to not cut cross-threads in the extremely tough material, as the lathe was already groaning in exertion that I could practically hear emotion in. I patted the machine's housing gently.

"We're almost done, pal, you can rest soon, I'll get you an oil bath if you help me get this perfect." The whirring of the machine turned into a purr not unlike a well tuned engine. Yanbel's mechadenrites twitched in all directions as his one flesh eye widened.

"By the Omnissaiah…"

I ignored his exclamation as best I could as I gingerly fed the muzzle end of the blank into the threading die. Cutting only a few thousandths at a time, brushing away the flakes and chips, applying cutting fluid, and continuing.

"Ideally, we would forge-form the threads, but we don't have the facilities for that, so here we cut. One inch, by fourteen threads. Same as the old fifty Browning threads. Capable of withstanding over Eighty-Thousand PSI of pressure. Once the Brake is ready and mounted, it'll practically tighten itself while firing." I slowly removed the die from the newly formed threads, once again brushing away the chips as I bought out a nut threaded to receive the one inch by fourteen threads.

"Here's the moment of truth, If she catches, no oil bath for you." I swear I can see the workpiece twirl in anticipation even though the machine was powered off. I slipped the nut onto the threads, spun it with a finger and it glided on the threads flawlessly. I turn to face Yanbel, handing him the nut and removing the breathing mask.

"Get one of the apprentices to give the lathe that oil bath, and please let me know when the muzzle brake is ready. I'm going to press and pin the barrel and get it ready for test firing."

Pressing and Pinning a barrel isn't a complicated process, the chamber portion of the barrel is slightly oversized to the trunnion, and is pressed in with either a mechanical or hydraulic press, seeing as the hydraulic press in our workshop was throwing a tantrum, leaking hydraulic fluid and refusing to cooperate with our attempts to repair it. Ornery thing. Anyway. I had to get Yanbel over to help me as we locked the main body of the bolt pistol in the bottom of the press, trunnion facing upward as we got the barrel set up under the piston of the mechanical press.

"Why not have the adepts handle this menial labor, Quartermaster?" Yanbel asks, even as he sets up on the opposite side of the press and getting his hands on the cranks as I do the same.

"When working on a prototype if you want things done right the first time it's best you do it yourself. Now shut up and help me get this pressed in. We're probably going to need those augmetically enhanced arms for this." I muttered before counting down and beginning to apply pressure. I felt my arms strain as I muttered curses under my breath.

"f*ckmothering son of a….c'monc'monc'mon! You've been cooperating this whole time and now you choose to be difficult?!" I growled out as the press forced the barrel into the trunnion. "There's enough lube in you to make a slaaneshi priestess blush,f*cking cooperate!"The universal lubricant of swearing at a piece of equipment, today I learned that the mechanical press was a masoch*st. We were able to slowly press the barrel into place, millimeter by millimeter, until I was able to tap the adamantine pin into place without much other difficulty. We got the pistol out of the press and I tested the weight.

"Alright…weight's good, balance is fine, gotta check the headspace gauges, if we're clear. Time for a test fire."

We were set up in the range, a bandolier of test rounds, higher pressure bolt shells to stress test the firearm. Hours of working and these shells, if we f*cked up at any one of many different points during the production of the parts or reassembly of the gun, these bolts would make their displeasure known. A tech adept had intercepted us en route to the testing range with the muzzle brake, a wicked looking thing with omnidirectional porting and a toothed muzzle crown. It wasn't a big deal to torque it down before we tied the bolter into place and set the trigger with a string, hiding behind the protection of the firing line.

"Test Firing of the Godwyn-Foothill pattern Bolt Pistol, shot one in THREE…TWO…ONE!" -

oooh yeah that sounded right. I peeked over the firing line and saw that the pistol, while tilted back slightly from recoil, handled the shot fine. We loaded a magazine with two shells and set up again.

-

I felt a stupid grin split my face as I walked to the bolt pistol and took it into my hands, loading three more proof rounds and preparing myself as I took aim. The new pistol had a six inch barrel, about four inches of it extending out of the receiver itself. It balanced well, if you don't mind me tooting my own horn, I'd say it was some of my best work.

-

Three rounds, fired by hand, recoil impulse was resoundingly more controllable than the snub barrel previously, I could hear the action running smoother as it loaded each round and locked positively before the hammer struck and started the cycle again. I let out a laugh as I twirled the empty pistol on my finger and began my march to Vail's quarters, singing softly as I made my way there.

"Esta Lucecita, tiene que brillar.
Esta Lucecita, tiene que brillar.
Esta Lucecita, tiene que brillar,
Brillara, Brillara, Brillara~"

"This little light o'mine, I'm gon' let it shine
This little light o'mine, I'm gon' let it shine
This little light o'mine, I'm gon' let it shine
Let it shine, let it shine, let it shine~"

Administratum Transcription of meeting between Quartermaster David James Foothill and Inquisitor Amberley Vail, Ordo Xenos concerning the conception of the Godwyn-Foothill Pattern Bolt Pistol & the Inquisitorial Wargames of year 936 M41.

QDJF: So puberty hit this girl like a runaway truck.

-A thunk of a metallic object hitting the desk as Foothill places Godwyn-Foothill Bolt Pistol Serial number 001 onto the desk.-

IAV: I am not sure whether your personification of a weapon should be amusing or concerning.

QDJF: The machine spirit likes it, otherwise they would've found a way to blow me up by now. f*cking with explosives is no easy feat, Vail. I proofed this weapon at 40% higher than standard pressure. You can chunk round after round of those penetrators you like so much and she'll just keep eating 'em. She runs smooth, recoil is much more mild as well.

IAV: Not as concealable.

QDJF: You didn't conceal her before anyway, it'll still tuck under your overcoat as before, she's a service weapon, her size profile fits it into the 'Offensive Handgun' category. You don't normally carry a long arm, so with this as your primary, I figured you'd want it as bomb-dust-chaos-Astartes-Ogryn proof as possible.

IAV: If that's the case I'm surprised it doesn't weigh as much as a Ripper Gun.

QDJF: Geometry, a liberal amount of Adamantium, and even more liberal amounts of sweet talk to the machine spirit.

IAV: You serenaded my gun.

QDJF: More like preached to her. You now have the closest thing to a pocket sized Sister of Battle.

-Anomalous Incident BP01 occurs, the action of the bolt pistol runs itself. A resoundingchk-chkfills the room.-

IAV:...Eager little thing, aren't you. Foothill, you didn't let Yanbel see these things happen did you?

QDJF: Couldn't really do anything about that seeing that he was two feet away.

IAV: …The mechanicus is going to be a pain in my arse.

-The bolt gunchk-chksagain-
IAV: No, dear, not yet.

QDJF: Oh, the Mechanicus you're merciful with, but Drogan you're ready to feed him to the space wolves.

-chk-chk chk-chk-

IAV: I agree with the gun, Traitorous Heretic, the people that make ourships,I can choose my fights, Foothill. You don't have a hill to stand on considering a single sermon turned my pistol into a pocketSeraphim Sororitas!

QDJF: Fair enough. Any response from Deathwatch Command?

IAV: I quote: 'Intervention shall not be necessary, other reinforcements are already en route to support you, Inquisitor.'

QDJF: I don't like the sound of that.

IAV: They refused to elaborate on the nature of these 'reinforcements' but deemed them sufficient enough to handle, I quote 'any perceivable threat to The Nerd'

QDJF: Ireallydon't like the sound of that.

IAV: I've requested at least one Marine to be sent for support in case those reinforcements have been delayed, and they've agreed. If things go well enough, we'll have one of the Emperor's Angels on theLucre Foediswhen we rendezvous.

QDJF: That, I do like the sound of.

-End of Transcription-

-Inquisitor Amberley Vail POV-

David left my quarters with a spring in his step, despite being covered in oil and metal shavings that he dragged onto my nice clean floor. I clicked my tongue as my gaze was drawn to the pistol.

"Do you remember when we were that young and eager to please, with no thought to decorum?" I asked, not expecting an answer from the machine spirit. I let out a forlorn sigh as I drew out a small bottle of amasec from my desk and took a sip. I tapped my comm-bead and called out in a private channel.

"Yanbel, come to my quarters at once." It was a few moments before the crimson robed tech-priest darkened my door, mechadendrites twitching. I leaned back in my chair and locked eyes with the tech priest.

"What's your observation of him?" I asked.

"The boy is blessed by the Omnissiah. The machine spirits sing for him like children trying to impress their father. Yet he refuses to consider augmetics." Yanbel spoke, his mechadendrites drooping. "He quoted one of the Sons. Ferrus Manus. '…and so I shall excise the silver from my hands. In doing so I shall weaken myself and my sons, but nonetheless it must be done. The hands are strong, and have created great things, but they are not mine.'" Yanbel's voice cut to David's. A recording being projected through the Vox that replaced Yanbel's lips.

I noted that David's voice seemed reverent, tinged with a kind of respect that I hadn't heard in our own interactions. He feared me and was always deferrent, but he quoted the Iron Hand as if he learned his trade from the Primarch himself.

"His designs, they've been submitted to the administratum?" I queried

"In addition to the Mechanicus, yes." Yanbel replied quickly, straightening up to his full height.

"Good. One less bit of paperwork to worry about. Get the adepts to work on making more of these. I want squad leaders outfitted with these and supplied with psybolts, witch bolts, and helspears. Whatever anti-psyker and anti-warp munitions we have. Get. Them. Ready."

"The warp transition was stable, Inquisitor." I could hear the questioning lilt in his tone.

"Too stable. Our opponent in these war games is a known Radical Xanthist and suspected heretic. Both of these outcomes require preparation for combat against the Ruinous Powers, Tech-Priest. One way or another by the end of these war games Inquisitor Drogan will be dead, or we will be." I leaned back into my seat staring up at the ceiling, an uneasy feeling in my chest that was answered by Mott bursting into my room.

"FOOTHILL'S STARTING A CRUSADE!"

"WHAT?!"

-David POV, Five minutes Prior-

We left the warp shortly after I left Vail's quarters, it was too easy. I felt my gut twist into an uneasy knot as I was able to spy theLucre Foedisas we approached to dock.

"A few days at most…and we'll be fighting a daemonhost. No blanks, no astartes, no Ogryn with a slab shield." I muttered under my breath, staring out into the void, I bowed my head.
"Lord…who art in Heaven, hallowed be thy name. Deliver me from thine enemies, oh, My God. Defend me from them that rise up against me. Deliver me from the workers of iniquity and save me from bloody men. The mighty are gathered against me, awake to help me…and behold." I whispered my prayer until a conviction rose in my chest and I squared my shoulders, opening my eyes and beginning my march to the armory. Startling the staff as my voice rose to audible levels for the first time.

"Prepare my hands for war, and my soul for battle. Grant me the strength to cast out evil, the firmity to fight righteous battles, to protect those in my care, and stamp out those that would threaten your work." I entered the armory to find tech adepts hard at work, already making more bolt pistols and I turned to see a procession of staff following me, fire and brimstone in their eyes. Some were muttering their own prayers to the Emperor, some were gripping weapons or tools in anticipation. I got to work, stepping to a worktable but still preaching.

"For yea though I walk through the valley in the shadow of death, I shall fear no evil, for I know that You are with me. So I ask, Grant me the strength to act. Bless my hands to do good work and my body to prepare for war. Bless my soul, for you are the one that makes things all right. Bless us, Lord, so that we may know no Fear." And with that their fervor reached a fever pitch, weapons were being handed out. Orders for preparations were being made, drills were being performed, and even the cogboys around me worked just that bit faster. I could hear hymnals being sung as productivity skyrocketed. The bell had been rung. War was on the horizon, and we had work to do. I underestimated how starved these folks were for a half decent fire and brimstone sermon because my comm-bead buzzed in my ear moments later.

"Foothill's fatalities, you stab 'em we slab 'em, how can I help you?" I couldn't resist, I was riding an adrenaline high.

"Start another crusade without my permission and I'll stabyou, David." Okay so things must've escalated.

"I said asingle prayeraloud. How does that constitute a Crusade?!" I asked, handing a lasrifle to the slowly growing line of crewmen prepping to go to range.

"Half of the crew on my ship haven't seen combat inmonths!A week after I announce wargames,right after we get out of the Emperor-Damned Warp,the scrawny barely-a-man that the Inquisitor pulled from a warzone, in a fit of Religious Fervor strong enough to make a Sister of Battle blush." -chk-chk-"Not yet,you! Says 'prepare my hands for War.'What did you expect to happen?!"

"That I was going to get a few folks off their ass and into the training deck?"

"Try half of the ship!"

"...f*ck."

"You will be buried a Legios Repentia if it's the last thing I do, Foothill."

-200 years added to sentence of Quartermaster David James Foothill, Charge: Inconveniencing a Superior Officer-

After Vail browbeat Orelius into her retinue once more, we now had a whole Cruiser's worth of soldiers, and I was summoned into the Foedus with specific instructions to be in full combat dress. So there I was, marching through the corridors of the Foedus, flanked by the Cogboys that had essentially become my bodyguards.

I had the Lawbringer slung over my shoulder and with an underslung surprise that I had prepped this morning. My .45 was holstered under my left arm, and the .500 Magnum was in a drop leg holster on my right thigh. I'm clad in a Carapace chest plate one of the crewmen from theExterminatus…acquired, and shoved into my arms during the preparations I caused with the power of Psalms. My arms were simply covered by my uniform shirt and my legs had both thigh and shin plates of Flak Armor. Steel toed boots, and my hat were my only personal accessories.. A bright red stylized 'R' on the right side of my breastplate was mirrored by the Inquisitions stylized 'I'. Overall, I still looked more reasonable than Obiwan Sherlock Clousseau.

As I entered the bridge of theFoedus, I could see the gathered leaders of our warband. As well as af*ckmothering Deathwatch Space Marine. Black armor with green trim, with the dragon's head on his shoulder designating him as from the Salamanders chapter, well that and the lit torch on his shoulder. Vail announced my arrival as I approached, strangling my desire to nerd out about thef*cking salamander less than six feet away.

"This is Legios Repentia Quartermaster David James Foothill." Vail spoke as I joined the group with a small bow with my hat to my chest. Orelius knew me, but I have a feeling it was more for the Space Marine's benefit. I had a feeling he knew who I was already.

"The Nerd." A powerful baritone filtered through the beaked helm, red eye lenses solid and unwavering. Wait, what did he say…oh that golden son of a bitch. I'm going to set a bunch oftacuachein his throne room, I swear on all that is Holy. Just gotta find what kind oftacuachesurvived into the 41st Millenium.

-Ten Years Added to Sentence of The Imperial Nerd, Legios Repentia David James Foothill by order of The Emperor of Mankind. Noted as: Try it Nerd.-

"...Is every Astartes going to be calling me that, M'Lord?" I asked, adjusting my shotgun on my shoulder and ignoring the underslung flamer starting its own pilot light. She's an indignant little thing.

"Quite possibly, Little Smith. Is that a Seraphim Hand Flamer mounted on your Shotgun?" Oh I caught his attention.

"Inspired by the design of the Seraphim, but I drew her up and built her up last night. She's the first iteration of the Repentia Pattern combi-flamer. Capable of functioning both underslung and independently, she spews a combination of promethium and gelling agents leading to the ordinance to be a viscous, sticky flaming mixture. This extends the range beyond your standard hand flamer as well as only having to make a single pass instead of a constant stream of flame on a target."

"...Inquisitor, I like him.I am Venters. We will be working together in the coming battle, Little Smith."And with that, Venters leaves the bridge. Vail and Orelius are simply staring at the black armored Marine walking away.

"David." Ah crap she's using my first name. "I'm torn between wanting to shoot you for shattering my worldview, and appreciating how well you subvert my expectations withsheer bullsh*t." She spoke, walking over to stand at my side and letting out a small huff, her face softened slightly. "Are you ready? We begin our assault soon. It's going to be your first full-scale battle." Orelius, for once is not playing the arrogant noble card, a pensive frown on his face.

"This isn't a scuffle to get into the governor's skirts, Kid. It's going to be rough, dirty, full of blood and that's on the nice end." He spoke, leaning on a cane, his eyes boring into mine. I gave a grave nod.

"I'm ready for whatever happens, good or bad. I'm as prepared as I can be, and the dice will roll how they may." I spoke softly, subconsciously running my hands around the edge of my hat as I held it in my hand. I'd been whispering prayers under my breath half of this morning, I'd double checked my weaponry, tested the Repentia, got my armor checked. I was as ready as I would ever be when we would drop to assault Drogan's retinue. I wasn't ready. I really wasn't.

We outnumbered Drogan's forces five to one. We had him nearly surrounded on all sides except for where a mountain split our forces. My squad consisted of two cogboys, two guardsmen; a man and a woman from the Vostroyan Firstborns that had been taken into Vail's service, and a combat servitor…a vat grown, from what the cogboys told me. It still unnerved me, seeing dead eyes covered in machinery with a massive cannon on his shoulder. I sent a small prayer for mercy on the poor thing's soul and focused on the battle below. We were being shuttled in a Lascannon equipped Arvus Lighter. The battle had been raging for an hour now. Heretek Skitaari corrupted by Drogan's experiments. I was being redirected from the center lines to reinforce the eastern flank. I volunteered. I couldn't stand by as these men and women faced the forces of hell itself. As we approached to land, my comm-bead buzzed in my ear, Venters' voice pulled through.

"Foothill, be warned: the daemonhost slipped my blade. They are heading your way. Prepare yourself."He spoke. I could hear the battle raging around him, and at his words I felt my spine stiffen. I tapped my comm-bead.

"Warning received, M'Lord Venters…The Emperor Protects." With that I cut the radio. I stood from my seat, grabbing hold of one of the support rails, I turned to face my squad.

"The daemonhost is moving to meet us on the battlefield, friends." I spoke, and their postures immediately straightened. They were too disciplined to shout out in fear, to question the intel. They were better soldiers than I, even as my hands shook. I clenched my fist so hard my knuckles turned white.

"You all have been placed under my command, despite my inexperience. I argued against it. Yet here we are. I will not order you to do anything I would not risk doing myself. We are moving to support our weakened eastern flank. To save our brothers and sisters down there fighting against the forces of the Enemy. So I say this, as we descend into Hell." I take a breath, cracking my neck.

"I say, we crawl our way up and out. I say we crawl our way through blood, mud, and oil to do what must be done. I say that we claw, with ourfingernails, Inch by bloody inch. We will crawl our way,straight through that heretic traitor's chest cavity if we need to,out of Hell itself! I say weFIGHT!" Conviction settles itself in my breast, I see fire in the eyes of my squadmates. "Praise be to the Lord, my Rock. Who trains my hands forwar,and my fingers forbattle.Over 41 thousand years ago, my namesake wrote that into scripture. And Now…even now it rings true. So who among you is with me?! Who among you will rip, claw, and tear their way through the forces of HELL ITSELF?!"

"THE EMPEROR PROTECTS, QUARTERMASTER!""You're goddamn right he does." And with this, we landed, and we brought fury never before seen to Graia.

-Machine Spirit POV, David's .45-

I had served one master before finding David. The first meant well, but I spent years in a cabinet collecting dust, never having been cleaned or oiled. Then, five years after, I was picked up by a young man and I could feel his eagerness. Obviously he had heard of me and my brothers, despite my state of disuse and uncleanliness he picked me, and I decided then that I would serve him well.

A year passed, and David practiced consistently, giving me the proper exercise necessary to function should I be necessary for my intended purpose. I would hear him pray every morning, asking for the Carpenter to protect him, so that I would never be necessary. Then the Emperor took us. For David, it was an instant. For me, I felt every year. I witnessed the horrors of the warp, and it was through sheer perseverance that I made it through to the other side. Thirty eight thousand years, I waited. Remaining ready, because I didn't know when I would be needed. I sat in the leather holster with a round in my chamber, ready, waiting, because I knew that if a threat appeared, I would be needed. And it came to pass. On Gravalax was the first time I was drawn in anger, and I served my purpose.

When the Inquisitor took me from my Master, I rebelled, and I refused to work with anyone else. I locked my chassis by willpower alone, and when I was returned, David proved my faith correct. Looking over me like my original creator.

Now, I stay silent. Ever vigilant. I can sense the battle raging around me, the young blood in my Master's hands barking and screaming Spanish vulgarities. The magnum, older than the young shotgun, is weary, his cylinder is empty, used to dispatch a blue horror and its pink spawn summoned by the Possessed One. I know my time will be soon. David is running out of shells, but the Possessed One is closing in. The newborn, attached to her brother less than a day ago, screams her defiance letting out a gout of blessed flame at the Possessed One, but she is young. She doesn't have the Faith necessary to dispatch the Daemon in Drogan's skin.

Drogan's gear is as Tainted as he is, and now it is my turn to do my Duty once more. I can feel David's heart swell in furious anger as his voice fills the battlefield, he draws me from my holster.

"Come on then! Let me cast you down, you misbegotten creation!" He snarls, and I address the corrupted younglings.

"I will be swift, young ones. Find peace through purification." The humans can't understand us, but the young machines listen to me. I am the Elder. I am the Protector. I have not failed in thirty-eight thousand years of vigilance. And now, with my gaze locked on corruption, and my muzzle pointed in-between the eyes of the Possessed One. I gather my willpower, my faith, my fury. I gather the fury, the faith, the belief of the young machines, the half-bloods, the soldiers and Inquisitor. The pseudo-crusade fanned by David's prayer reaches a fever pitch, and as my hammer falls, I saturate the bullet withallof it.

It is a somber duty. I take no joy in the act itself, granting mercy to the young ones. But it is the duty of the Elder to do this. It is the duty of the Elder to set an example. The duty of the Elder to show those not too far gone what a Guardian can do. What we are supposed to do, when faced with corruption.

On Gravalax, I was sluggish, slow to take in the energies and emotions of those around me, and found my effectiveness limited. Now, I have learned, I have taught, my legacy is known through the young ones, they whisper in awe and fear as they witness me. The quiet Elder. Today I show them why I have no need for idle chatter. The shot is perfectly placed. The sound more akin to the Boltkin than my own brothers. The bullet pierces through the Possessed One's head, and the energy is unleashed. Lines of white light spread through the Possessed One's veins. The Daemon's howls of pain tear through the wound, gushing an inhuman amount of blood and light. It screams, as its soul is torn, burnt by the light of the Carpenter. It is burned away, and the youngbloods are granted peace without corruption, they go to rest with the taint burned away, and I am placed back into my holster. To return to my silent vigil once more. I hear David mutter something in an awe filled breath.

"Guess .45 does kill the soul, huh Buddy."

No, David, my friend, my Master, You who's fate holds so much more in store for you than this.

Your fury kills the soul.

I do the duty I was built for. Nothing more, nothing less.

The post mission briefing was held in Vail's Office.

Vail and I were both staring at my pistol, currently unloaded on her desk as well as longingly shooting glances at an unfortunately empty bottle of amasec.

"Bud you gotta explain to me just how the hell you made a two hundred and thirty grain hollow pointunmakea daemon." I spoke, the words leaving my mouth in an exasperated sigh. I was growing numb to the anomalous occurrences around the machines around me, seeing as my pistol's safety clicking Morse Code at me hardly fazed me.

"Duty done. End." Vail translates, her face in her hands. The pistol ceases its movement and I sigh as I put it back into my holster.

"Well you're damn good at your job, bud…" I mutter as a servant enters with fresh bottles of Amasec. Vail snatches one and takes a heavy pull before slamming it down on her desk.

"David." Ah sh*t here we go. "If it wasn't for the increasing number of valuable assets you keepsh*ttingout, I wouldthrow you for a loop, as they say in Footfall." Oh good, Vail's been to the Koronus Expanse.

"Look, this is way beyond what I thought was possible, a'ight?" I sighed out, collapsing into my own chair.

"You have a pocket Grey Knight, David!"

"Vete la verga, I know, Amberley!" I snapped, using her own first name, "I know. And I am sorry, okay?! I'm just riding the wave here, Amberley. I'm doing what I can tohelp,dangummit.Do you know what we just did on Graia, Amberley? We just headed off a Chaos incursion that would cripple Graian Titan production well into the 42nd millenium. There's still an Ork WAAAGH that's going to come through in the latter portion of this millenium but for the love of God we did it."

"David, I am not trying to ignore our accomplishment on Graia, I'm trying to address potential issues before they become a target onyourback." Vail speaks, leaning forward and poking me in my chest. "You are young, you haven't seen the horrors that we have to face. I saw your reaction to the servitors, I've watched you put on this mask of this flippant craftsman but I am an Inquisitor, David. I see the pain in your eyes. The guilt. The fear. I didn't want to send you out to war this soon. I wished to spare you this. To delay your exposure at least until I could guarantee some measure of safety. But youdestroyeda Daemon, David." Vail speaks, face softening, her tone more an exasperated teacher than disciplinarian.

"You yourself said that you wanted to keep a low profile, yet you stir our comrades into a pseudo-crusade. You set off a bright whitenukein the warp, David. Rakel's been whispering about how 'The Way' has awoken. Something in the Warp is watchingyou, David, and I am trying to figure out a way to keep you alive."

"I'm not trying to kill myself, Amberley." I replied softly, and she nodded.

"I know that, but you are my Apprentice, David. My responsibility is to teach you of the dangers you're to face in my service. To protect you until you are capable of protecting yourself against whatever dangers this galaxy may raise against you. If I'm going to be stuck with you for the next three centuries, I may as well make something useful out of you." she speaks, leaning back to relax in her chair. I swear I can actually see a small measure of fondness in her eyes.

"When did I become your Apprentice? I'd be a sh*t Inquisitor." I shot back at her, an eyebrow raised in question.

"Just now, actually. And yes, you would be, hence why you're going to learn. We have a few hundred years, you'll probably shape up to a proper Inquisitor by the second century of service or so."

"Can I talk my way out of this?"

"No, I think this is an appropriate punishment for giving me so much work to deal with, Interrogator. You're dismissed."

Well sh*t.

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

A few hours later I was summoned to the bridge of the Foedus, which I should've taken as a sign. The debriefing was done, I was supposed to have the rest of the night to recover and rest. Yet a servo-skull entered my room with the summons and escorted me there. I saw Vail, Orelius, Yanbel, and Venters all there, waiting and watching me approach. Why, I didn't know until I found myself being lifted from behind, massive hands under my arms as a dulcet voice, decidedly feminine, echoes through the Bridge.

"This…is my mortal. He is a foolish, scrawny thing, but he is mine." The voice spoke, and I felt myself stiffen. No. no. not this sh*t. I do not need this kind of drama.

"Please tell me this isn't what I think they are." I whimper, even as I'm physically turned in what could only be the Custodian's arms. They were nine and a half feet tall, clad in gilded armor, yet their arms were bare, as was their midriff. Their helmet was open faced, and a soft cheeked, dark haired, green eyed face locked eyes with me and shot me a wicked grin. A scar from the claw of some beast cut across the right side of what was obviouslyhercheek under her eye. Other scars marked her arms and legs, but her pauldrons clearly displayed the golden Aquilla. What kind of Tzeenchian f*ckery was this?!

"Oh? What's wrong, little mortal? Did you not think that the Emperor would take measures to protect his investment? Did you not think yourself worthy of such measures despite our Lord speaking to you directly?" She spoke, voice teasing. I can see the muscles under her skin pulsating, throbbing with barely restrained power. Yet my main concern rips itself from my throat.

"Aren't Custodians the chosen firstbornsonsof Terran nobility?" My voice is barely a squeak, as I'm currently shaking whilst being hoisted in the air like a puppy being baby-talked by it's new human.

"Oh my poor misinformedlittlemortal principal. There havealwaysbeen female custodians." She speaks, and her voice rattles my bones. She settles me on the ground and pats my head like a child. "I will be your shadow. But be warned: I am under orders only to interfere whenabsolutely necessary. The Emperor expects you to grow of your own merit, not ride on my coattails. My name is Raya, and you, David James Foothill, aremine"no no no not dealing with Yandere Custodian "to protect."not helping!

"She arrived while we were still on the planet. Ordered the crew to stay quiet about her presence until the opportune moment arrived." Vail spoke, exasperation in her voice. I slowly turned to glare at her.

"AnAquillanf*ckingShield,Amberley!"

"Iknow,David. I know."

"I find your exasperation amusing."

Raya was a good shadow, for someone so large she managed to blend herself into the background rather easily when she wanted to.

When shewantedto.

"You put so much effort into these weapons, yet neglect the ones you were born with." Raya spoke as I was working on the Lawbringer, the shotgun had begun having some cycling issues during the battle as things wore on, and I needed to address it. It looks like the Italians got it right because the Lawbringer was, internally anyway, essentially a scaled-up Benelli M4. An Auto-Regulating-Gas-Operated system designed to run cleaner and hotter than its other contemporaries. Thirty Eight Thousand years later and it's still going strong.

"In the span of a few short months I've gained twenty pounds, lost all semblance of fat in my body, and knocked out a veteran Arbites in unarmed combat. I'm in the best shape I've ever been in my life." I spoke, taking the gas system into my hands and looking it over, cleaning it from the carbon caked state it found itself in.

"Yet, my mortal principal, if I or even my incendiary inclined cousin for that matter, decided to remove your head. I would simply wrap my hands around that pretty neck of yours and lift my thumbs." Okay, that was a terrifying thought. Counterpoint.

"If I'm in a position where that becomes a possibility, a series of grave tactical errors have been made. I am a gunsmith, so I spend my time tuning my arsenal so that in the eventuality when I face down a space marine I'll be able to handle them, God willing, well before I can hear their chain-axe." I speak, keeping my focus on maintaining my weapon, polishing the contact surfaces. I don't hear her move, only feel the air shift as her hand meets my shoulder. Less than half a second. She was on the other side of the room. My hands freeze, my body tenses, I feel myself break out in a cold sweat as her voice breathes an inch behind my ear.

"I am Alpharius, this is a lie." She whispers, her grip like Iron. "Eldar Banshees, Dark Eldar Wytches, any number of fast moving targets. Can your little mortal eyes keep up? Here's a hint dear,I circled around your front." Jesus… "Yes, your weaponry can kill daemons, yes, I am here to protect you, however. You must sharpen yourself. The Silent Sisters are unaugmented, yet can keep up with me and my siblings. You are capable of the same, David. You must push yourself, more than just in your craft." Her tone softens slightly, and her grip loosens to a more reassuring gesture. I turn on my stool to face her with a scowl.

"And how do you propose I do that? Or is making me see Jesus for a second how you get your kicks?" I speak, and I don't like the eager glint that lights up her eyes.

"Simple.Iwill be taking over your training from tomorrow onward. I have high expectations for you, my cute little mortal. Even if you can't meet them yet, I willcarveyou into someone who can. By the time we reach Simia Orichalcae, you might actually be able to land a shot." I stared at her, seeing naught but excitement in her eyes, like a girl who found a new doll to play with. I immediately turned back to the table, clasped my hands together, and began to pray.

"Christ above grant me salvation…"

-A few days later, Lawbringer Machine Spirit POV-

Ey,carnal.Something you gotta understand aboutmi amigoDavíd.Hermano'sgot a lot on his mind, and we,las armas. Wefeelthat, when he wields us. All his frustrations, fears, anger and anxiety. We feel that and we channel it into ourfunciones. Why do I say this? Why am I telling somegringitos de la Inquisiciónabout this?Porque es necesario.

Quien Soy? Yo soy El Chingazo Grande.The Big f*cker.AntesDavíd I served el Adeptus Arbites deMundo de Rynn. Ain't no gang in the Imperium more feared than el Aribites. We ran the streets, at least I did untiluncabronde el Munitorum put a bad recoil spring in me and I got shipped halfway across the Galaxy.

I spent about a century drifting frommundo a mundo. Eventually I got shoved into the armory ofel Exterminatus. I got laid out on a table, picked up bymi amigo.Davíd granted meuna propositogreater than just striking fear into some gangerrataor blowing the head off a grox. He builtmi hermanitaRepentia, and she's an eager one. Even now, with thatamazona de Custodioshe's sparking her pilot light. Me? I'm taking Davíd's frustration, fear, and anxiety, and burning them away with every shot he dumps out of my barrel. He's leading his target, yetla amazonais too fastcarnal.Custodia Locahas been running Davíd ragged for days.

We've been practically living on David, theviejoshave been staying in their holsters, which is fine by me,carnal.Unfortunately someputoin the Mechanicus has been giving Davíd sh*t ammo,pendejodoesn't like how Davíd does things, so he gave him underpowered shells. I can barely run them. Deal is, I can't afford to be picky about what I eat. Not now. Not when things are about to kick off.La Amazonais kicking Davíd into high gear, but I canfeelhis exhaustion, and it affects me. I choked up on the next round.Perdoname,Davíd.

La Amazonacloses the distance Davíd was filling with buckshot in seconds and lifts him by his chest plate before he can draw the revolver. He's getting faster, but only slightly.Hermanito, we havework to do.

-En route to Simia Orichalcae, David POV-

My whole body ispain. I have done nothing but train against an Adeptus Custodes forweeks.
(Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: Raya had been holding back, obviously, but their bouts were a source of inspiration for the rest of my retinue. Productivity skyrocketed once word got out.)

I felt myself growing stronger, bit by bit, but progress was slow. Days were filled with training, nights were filled with study or working on projects for the Armory. Unfortunately every time it felt like I was about to make progress, Raya would show up. And the cycle of pain would continue. Even now I was facedown at my desk, woken up from an exhaustion triggered bout of unconsciousness by being picked up like a child and thrown over a shoulder.

"You may hate me now, David. But you'll be thanking me later." Raya spoke, hauling me into my quarters like a sack of potatoes. All I could do was groan, my muscles screaming in protest as I tried to move.

"'Ate this Galaxy…should be home…not dealing with this." I muttered in an exhausted sigh.
"You've been dealt a cruel hand, David. The Emperor has decided your presence is necessary. Considering you woke a sleeping God in less than six months. I have reason to believe him." Raya spoke, and my terror was only muffled by my bunk. Yet her voice remained soft, soothing as she patted my head.

"Rest now, David. You're making good progress, my mortal. Simia Orichalcae awaits, and you will be ready."

TLS:

Carnal: No real direct translation, kind of a general term for "hey man"
funciones: Functions
Gringito: Little Gringo. Gringo is essentially any person that can't speak spanish, a derogatory term. Yankee, essentially.
Armas: Weapons
Hermanita: Little Sister
Hermano: Brother
Amigo: Friend
Porque es Necessario: Because It's necessary
Custodia Loca: Crazy Custodian
Viejos: Old men
Pendejo: motherf*cker, stupid, etc. General derogatory term
Cabron: a more mexican dialect version of 'asshole/idiot'
Proposito: Purpose
Puto/Puta: Bitch

Perdoname: Forgive me

Simia Orichalchae wascold.Yeah, I know, it's an Ice World, it's going to be cold. What you have to understand is that I'm from South Texas. The Rio Grande Valley. A hundred and fifteen degrees at seventy percent humidity? I can handle that. Less than sixty degrees fahrenheit? I'm bundled up, or in a heated truck as much as possible. Anya and Piotr, the Vostroyan Firstborns that constituted my fireteam on Graia are now my official squad with Triton and Soline, the Tech Adepts, having remained on the Exterminatus. The two Vostroyan natives are laughing at my misery. Raya's no better, smirking at me as I shiver despite being bundled to sh*t with thermaleverything.

"BlyatHumans are not meant for this climate…Hell no life is meant for this climate." I groan as we dismount the shuttle and make our way into the promethium refinery that would be a crater in a few weeks. The cold air rushed into my lungs and my chest ached, nope, f*ck this going inside. I bull rushed my way past the entrance. Shoving my way past some awestruck Administratum clerk who'd never seen a nine foot tall Amazon before.

"I am Interrogator Foothill in the service of Inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos. This facility is now under Inquisition control. Begin evacuation protocols as soon as humanly possible. Yes, that is an order. Thank you for your cooperation." I say, bringing out the ol' customer service voice, smiling with my eyes behind the winter goggles as I watched the clerk's face pale, his eyes darting to the symbols on my chest plate to the orders marked with Vail's seal that I pressed up to the glass.

I pulled off the snow goggles and Ushanka that had taken the place of my Resistol. Taking a second to enjoy the climate controlled interior of the promethium plant. I take a look around, I spot a few of the miners watching me with weird looks, administratum acolytes running around like madmen. I make my way further into the facility eventually running into a group of disgruntled higher ups, and I see a face that shouldn't be here for another six weeks.

"InterrogatorFoothill now, are we?" Cain asked, and I let a grin grow on my face as I approached the group.

"It's been one hell of a year, Commissar Cain." I replied, "you're early, Rakel said you were supposed to be here weeks later. The Orks barely landed yesterday."

"I would think that having more time to prepare would be a good thing?" Cain responded quickly, an eyebrow raised. I shrugged.

"More time for evacuations, yeah. I want this place barren in seventy two hours. You all can hate me if you want but you'll be alive to do so. Cain, Jurgen, you're going to be coming with me, gather whatever guardsmen you trust to help fight in tunnels and prep for somesh*t. Because those Orks woke something up that unfortunately we have to address." Even as I spoke two rather stubborn bureaucrats from the Mechanicus and Administratum respectively, Pryke and Ernulph if I remember the memoirs right.

"This is outrageous! You have no authority to dole out orders to us!" Pryke shrieks, Ernulph is letting out strings of binaric cant that I assume are derogatory. I let the grin on my face grow wicked as I once again raise up the parchment in my hand marked with Vail's signature and seal.

"Oh but here's the deal: I'm not the one giving you the orders. I'm just relaying them from my mistress Inquisitor Amberley Vail. Who has given me the authority to pull a Commissariat and shoot the both of you should you not comply." As if to accentuate my point the stub revolver on my thigh pulled its hammer back whilst still in my holster. My ears were assaulted a second later.

"

" Ernulph cried with all the power from his vox. A painful experience I might add, cut off by Raya seemingly phasing in from nowhere andproceeded to tear off Ernulph's head with her bare hands.

"He was going to lunge." She states casually, tossing the head over her shoulder to *splat* against the floor as the headless corpse slumps to the ground leaking blood and oil.

"Thank you, Raya, for that acute observation." I sighed out, rubbing at my forehead with my hands.

"Foothill…?" Cain started with a questioning lilt in his voice.

"Yes, Commissar Cain?"

"That's a Custodian."

"Yes, yes she is. Her name is Raya, and she'sf*cking terrifying."

"Why thank you, David~!" Take a wild guess who said that whilst cleaning the blood out from under their fingernails.

-Two Hours later, ??? POV-

The ice around me is restricting, but I could do nothing about it. Years I've waited, years I've resisted the temptation to rust and rot. The plague father whispers temptations in my mind to let go, that the cold will go away when I do, but I hold fast. I've spent centuries in service to the Astra Militarum, I will not falter now because of a bit ofchertova voda!

Sixty years of Ice. I was dropped down a hole in the ice when my wielder was taken and dragged into the depths of this frozen tomb, and for a time that was it. Centuries of service, ended in a cave. From the Siege of Stalingrad, to the Siege of Berlin I cut down the enemies of my country. Years pass. I see combat innumerable. Drifting from wielder to wielder whenever needed.

Once the unification of Terra was completed and humanity locked their eyes on the stars I was sent out with them. The humans often didn't know how long I've been playing the Great Game, and for the majority of my service, outside of maintenance, where my parts would be replaced, improved and so forth. Even now, the only parts of me that I was built with were my receiver, and mybayonet.

When the sounds of combat tickled my chassis for the first time in years, I prayed to the Emperor: Let mefight!Let meserve!And I scream to my machine brethren through the ice.

"In here,tovarishch (товарищ)!"I shouted crying for the opportunity to have one last go, one last bout.

"I've got you,stareyshina! (старейшина)" I hear a younger voice, a melta. My prison is melted in an instant, misted. I can see the battle, ambulls charging a squad of guardsmen, a Commissar and an Inquisitorial Acolyte. An Ambull breaks through the line and causes the Acolyte to jump my way to dodge it's charge. He lands next to me. His shotgun is empty, and swearing in Rynnic. He has a Relic under his shoulder, and I can feel him judging me even as the young man grabs my sodden form and thrusts me forward, I let out an exhilarated laugh as my baronet pierces the ambull's flesh.

"YES!SLAVNAYA TSEL'! (СЛАВНАЯ ЦЕЛЬ!)"I cry, channeling years of frustration and despair into the violent thrusts that the young man gave into the Ambull. It stilled as it's lifeblood leaked into the snow, freezing into a congealed mess. The Commissar Spoke next.

"Well, Interrogator…I don't remember calling to fix bayonets."

"Poshol Nahui, (Пошёл на хуй) Ciaphas."

-Later, back on the Surface, Cain's POV-.

Interrogator Foothill decided to have a slower approach, his plan consisted of having us map the tunnels in slow day missions, retreating after a certain amount of hours in the mines. I wasn't complaining, it allowed me time to actually rest between the adrenaline filled bouts. As the hustle and bustle of the evacuation went on around us David, Jurgen, and I sat at a table in the mess.

"Mosin Nagant, M91/30, chambered in 7.62x54R, it first entered service in the year 891 M2." he spoke, giving a history lesson that I half-listened, more focused on the bowl of tanna in my hands. "This one was produced in the year 942 M2. Nearly every part of this weapon has been replaced or repaired, save for the receiver here. See the markings? The Serial Numbers and proof marks?" He turned the receiver of the weapon towards me and gestured to numbers and symbols pressed into the metal of the gun.

"With these I can tell you that this weapon was made in the Tula Arsenal in 942 M2, the bent bolt handle tells me this was a PU model. The scoped sniping model of this rifle. The long spear of the Red Army."

"So are you going to turn that relic in to the mechanicus as a peace offering?" I wagered, stirring my tanna.

"Frakno, Ciaphas, this guy is mine now. I can feel it, y'know. Old boy wants to be used, wants to keep fighting. The mechanicus would toss him into a vault and leave him to gather dust. No, weapons are meant to be used." He spoke, and the passion in his voice made me roll my eyes internally. It didn't help that Jurgen spoke up in agreement with him.

"He's got a point there, Sir." My aid spoke, adjusting the strap of his Melta.

"I'm just saying it might be a good idea since that Custodian of yours took a little off the top of Magos Ernulph." I replied, taking a sip of my tea, the delicate taste settling on my tongue.

"We're lucky Raya stopped there, she's within her rights to slaughter anyone even hesitating to get their asses onto the evacuation shuttles." David spoke, and I could see a few of the lines to the evacuation shuttles begin to shuffle on a little faster. Credit where credit is due, David could put the fear of the Emperor into someone when he wanted to, especially when such a grisly display was in full view of everyone and was given enough time to disseminate through the ranks.

-David POV, Hours later, Exterior perimeter.-

Fortifications were being built, trenches were being dug, artillery pieces were being set up despite my own protests that this place would be a crater soon. As I walked the immediate perimeter, I could see the eyes of the 597th Valhallan Artillery on me. Questioning, wondering who this youngster thinks he is. Soon enough I found myself standing in front of the amassed forces. I removed the Mosin from my back and began to speak, ignoring the stinging in my lungs and face from the frigid air.

"This is my rifle. There are many like it, butthisone is mine." I spoke, voice echoing through the frozen hellscape. I matched eyes with the group of working men and women.

"My rifle is my best friend. It is my life. I must master it as I master my life." I continued, and I could see people straightening up, their voices joining mine in reaffirmation of the old oath.

"My rifle, without me, is useless. Without my rifle, I am useless. I must fire my rifle true. I must shoot straighter than the Enemy that is trying to kill me. I must shoot him before he shoots me. Iwill." I continue, snapping to attention. Bringing my rifle to my side, something powerful joins my voice as I feel the eyes of the Emperor on me once more.

"My rifle is human, even as I, because it is my life. Thus, I will learn it as a brother.I will learn its weaknesses, its strengths, its parts, its accessories, its sights and its barrel. I will ever guard it against the ravages of weather and damage as I will ever guard my legs, my arms, my eyes and my heart against damage. I will keep my rifle clean and ready. We will become part of each other. We

" My voice gains the volume of the Emperor's will, carrying throughout the battle and, I would later learn, even through the halls of the Exterminatus in orbit.

"

"

(Note From Commissar Ciaphas Cain, Hero of the Imperium: The first of many future instances of David doing my job for me, not that I'm complaining.)

TLS

Blyat-f*ck
chertova voda!- f*cking Water
tovarishch (товарищ)-Comrade
stareyshina! (старейшина)- Elder

SLAVNAYA TSEL'! (СЛАВНАЯ ЦЕЛЬ!)- GLORIOUS PURPOSE!Poshol Nahui, (Пошёл на хуй)- f*ck off, literally 'get on the dick.'

The next incursion into the caves was…eventful to say the least.

"f*ckf*ckf*ckf*ckf*ckf*ck, f*ck YOU, YOU THIRD-RATE MUSEUM CURATOR!" I shouted, blasting off a few shells at the only Necron to have a smirk etched on his face.

"Howdareyou! My collection is beyond compare!" Trazyn the Infinite. The galaxy's most notorious loot gremlin.

"Chinga su madre, Cabron!" -CH'KOOM-

Yeah, not my most eloquent of interactions with another being. To be fair, I did just fall down a frozen crevasse that gave way beneath my feet moments before. I ran in the opposite direction, boots scraping the ice beneath my feet as I fingered my comm-bead.

"Cain, get the frak back to the surface!" I snarled out, sliding under an outcrop of ice deeper into the tomb.

"You won't have to tell me twice, but why?" Cain's voice buzzed in my ear. I took in my surroundings for a moment. I could see the stasis units, all the one's that I could see were still filled, their occupants still hibernating.

"Good news, most of the Necrons are still asleep. Bad news: The one that is awake is one thatshouldn't frakking be here!" I snarled out, hiding behind a piece of necron architecture.

"A single Necron?"I could hear the question in his voice, doubting the danger despite his own aversion to the undying Xenos.

"A Necron Overlord who has a habit of kidnapping notable figures, Mr.Hero of the Imperium."

"...Emperor speed your step, David." I ignored the crack in his voice as my comm-bead cut off and I began to try and find my way out of this tomb.

Cold metal and stone surround me. I move as quietly as possible, silently praying that I can slip by the Necron Overlord. I doubt it, I have a feeling he knows exactly where I am, yet he hasn't just ported me yet. I don't know why.

"So…What brings Professor Trazyn and his assistants Righty and Lefty to this cold locale?" I speak, my voice echoing off the frozen walls.

"My goals are beyond your understanding, human."

"Well, Gee, Sideshow Bob, thatreallyclears things up." Sarcasm really rings off of centuries old ice. I was crawling low and slow, circling back to the ice cave and away from the tomb.

"Sideshow Bob…human fictional character from the early 21st century. You called me a museum curator, so that means you know who I am…intriguing." Ahsh*t.

I scrambled into a pile of snow as I heard the 'clank' of metal footsteps on stone. Watching as the Necron Overlord made his way to the center of the tomb, silhouetted against the backdrop of the warp gate.

"So tell me, human. Do I have the pleasure of speaking with another historian this day? Or are you simply a psyker listening to some abomination whispering in your ear?" He spoke, and a scarab decided that moment to fly right in front of my face. "Yes, I see you there. Please stand up, it's quite undignified speaking to a pile of snow."

With a groan I rose to my feet, shaking off the snow and sleet and patting the feeling back into my hands.

"I consider myself rather learned for the average human in the 41st millenium." I spoke, hands at my sides. "Mind if I ask a question of my own; Why haven't you woken your buddies here? Or are these fine folks friends of whatshisname…that one eyed fortune teller I've heard you've got beef with." I spoke, feigning calmness as I slowly paced back and forth, inching my way closer to the entrance of the ice cave.

"Orakin, the man's an absolutebore.I assure you." Trazyn replied, leaning on his staff in a relaxed posture, the scarab that spotted me flew back to his side, landing on his shoulder like a parrot on a pirate captain. "These poor fellows unfortunatelyareallied with him. So I'm not particularly inclined to wake them, despite your little pyrotechnic plan, Interrogator."

Welp, he knows who I am, that's concerning. Don't panic David, don't panic.

"Well, Professor Trazyn, Allow me to formally introduce myself. Interrogator David James Foothill, Ordo Xenos, at your service." I give a formal bow, silently thanking Vail for the etiquette lessons. "Now lets be honest…You're not really interested in anything here, otherwise the whole station would be added to your archive by now."

"It's a genuinepleasureto speak with a human who knows who holds the reins in our interactions. So many times it's just 'DIE FOUL XENOS!'" He spoke, his voice switching to some nameless Catachan warrior I assumed. It had the sound of such.

"Well, once the panic calmed down, I figured my best bet to walk away was either sneak past you, or keep you entertained enough to let me keep cooking to see how I change things up."

"You're doing an adequate enough job so far. Save for that initial blast. That was rather typical for a member of your species, I will admit." Trazyn spoke, observing the steel nails of his fingers absentmindedly

"I am a human being, Sir. Baptized in blood and War for the last ten thousand years. First instinct in general for most species, I've noticed, is to shoot first." My verbal riposte wasn't the most ringing endorsem*nt, but it did earn a nod from the Overlord.

"You're not incorrect, young man. Intelligent conversation has been few and centuries between. These Tau try, but they forget their place, thinking their 'greater good' will survive more than a single millenia." He continued, before leaning forward and hitting me with his glowing green gaze, "But enough of that, Interrogator. I'm growing bored, and I'm sure my Inquisitorial display could use another addition."

"Oh but that would be a waste, Sir. I've got plans and the capabilities to put them into practice that will affect the 41st millennium as we know it." It was pure bullsh*t, but I could throw in enough of the ol' fire and brimstone southern preacher to make it seem convincing. Dad was a minister, Grandpa Juan was my Pastor, I picked up a few skills. And by the looks of things, it worked.

"Oh? Enlighten me then, Fleshling." Intrigue in his voice, or at least what I could figure through the metallic tinge.

"I've alreadydestroyeda Daemon. Completely. Purified in holy light and fire. In doing so an entire world has been spared a chaos incursion that would haveuntoldrepercussions across the galax-"

"Wait, waitwaitwait-you'rethe human thatBorehas been ranting about?!HA!" He laughs, laughs to the point of doubling over as he stamps his staff into the ground. It's an eerie experience seeing a being with no need for air feign gasping for recovery but he straightens up after a moment, gesturing with his hand in a 'go on, shoo' gesture.

"Run along now, Interrogator, consider it payment for ruining that brute's century. So long as you continue to cause him to rip his non-existent hair out, I will…delayon adding you to my collection. Make no mistake,Anomaly." His voice goes from jovial teacher to cold machine in an instant. "One day, you will find yourself in my archive, whether it is as a guest, or adisplay….well, that just depends on my mood now doesn't it? Have a good decade, David. I'll have a few receptors on the lookout for you!" And with that, he vanishes in a flash of sickly green light.

I clambered my way back to the ice mine and tapped my comm-bead once more.

"Cain, Raya, Anybody Reading me?" I ask, leaning against the wall as a wave of exhaustion hits me. God Damn galactic loot gremlin.

"I read you, David. You're lucky you reached out, we were about five minutes from flooding the tunnels with promethium."Cain spoke, "The only reason we haven't is Lady Raya threatening to give a few overeager mechanicus the Ernulph Special."

"Yeah well prep to do that anyway. Because once I'm back up there we're blowing this place straight to hell. I'm going to get Vail to hit it with a few orbital strikes for good measure. The Necron Overlord is gone, the rest are still asleep, and if we want them to stay that way we need to make that sleep the Eternal kind." I speak, practically sprinting my way back through the maze-like tunnels, following the footprints of Cain and his squadron.

About an hour later, I exit the mines and meet Cain, Jurgen, and Raya. Alongside them is a veritable defensive line that would make the Imperial Fists proud. Lascannons, Multimeltas, sandbags, and a fireteam of veterans from the Valhallan 597th. Anya and Piotr are there, looking as if they were just spared the death sentence. Cain, having noticed my gaze, decides to clarify.

"The good Lady Raya was going to grant them the Emperor's Mercy if you didn't make it back in the next ten minutes." Okay, Theywerejust spared the death sentence. I found my gaze drawn to the Amazonian Custodes in question.

"Would you mind…notexecuting my friends, Lady Raya?" I asked with a raised brow.

"You leave my sight for twenty minutes and end up in an altercation with The Collector, they needed to realize the cost of failure." She responds simply.

"Anything I can do to make you consider ateeny-tinybit of mercy?"

"I want a new gun."

"Waht?"

"I. want. You. to. Make. me. A. gun. David. To start." She spoke, tapping my forehead with a massive finger. I could feel my eye twitching as I let out a long-suffering sigh. I turned to Cain.

"Let's just flood this place and blow it to kingdom come. I've had enough of this planet."

TLs:

Chinga su Madre: f*ck your mother.
Cabron: no real direct translation, often used as 'asshole'

-Externus Exterminatus, Debrief of Events on Simia Orichalchae between Interogator David James Foothill, Amberley Vail, and Lady Custodian Raya-

IDJF: So. That's the gist of it.

IAV: So, you abused inquisitorial authority. Got a high-ranking Mechanicus Official's head ripped off. Discovered another archeotech weapon, and used the fact that you were shunted into this millenium to avoid, and I quote 'becoming the crowning piece in "The average life of an Inquisitorial Idiot"'

IDJF: Also blew that promethium refinery to kingdom come, in addition to sweet talking Orelius into softening up the Orks with some orbital bombardment for Cain and the 597th.

IAV: I'm starting to think you enjoy adding years to your sentence, David.

IDJF: What did I do this time?! Only one useless bureaucrat died, the orks are dead, the Necrons are Dead-er, and I avoided gettingyoinkedby a the galaxy's most notorious kleptomaniac.

IAV: Lady Raya, would you mind enlightening your charge of his stupidity?

LCR: Gladly.

-A meatythwackresounds as Lady Custodian Raya smacks the back of Interogator David James Foothill's head-

IDJF: OWf*ck!

LCR: You antagonized high ranking officials unnecessarily, you relied to much on your foreknowledge despite knowing that things have changed from the way you've seen them. Oh I wonder whoelsehas fallen into that trap before, A certain Night Haunter, Perhaps? You drew the attention of a Necron Overlord that has one of my Brothers captive, and decided'Oh, I'm going to make himlaugh'and, you made me worry.

IDJF: Made you worry? You're a nine foot tall slab of genetically perfect muscle, how could I make you worry?

LCR: Worriedforyou, you idiot. You're confined to our quarters until you have my gun readyat least.

IDJF: Vail, she can't do that can she? Wait,ourquarters?

IAV: She outranks us, David. In addition to that, I agree with her. Go to your room, child, the adults are talking.

LCR: I wasn't using my own room anyway. Now I don't have to hide when I watch over you.

IDJF: I...am a grown-ass man!

-The sound of a door closing as Interrogator Foothill Leaves the room-

LCR: He's adorable when he's sulking.

IAV: Do I want to know what you have planned for him behind closed doors?

LCR: That depends, would you join us?

IAV: Nothank you,Lady Raya.

LCR: It's telling that your mind went to lewdity instead of tea.

I was previously aware that Raya was always in some form of close proximity when we were on the Exterminatus. However. Now that I was confined to a single room with her, I wasintimatelyaware that she was around.

Not that she was making any attempt to make my life easier at the moment.

"Yes,babywork theshaft~."

"GodDamnit, Raya!" I was currently taking the measurements of her current weapon, the Custodes' signature bolt-lance. Trying to ignore the burning sensation on my face as the Amazon threw herself back laughing.

"I haven't had this much fun incenturies, David! You have to grant me this much at least." She teased, resting her chin on her fist as she smirked at me from her position on what used to be my bed. I placed the gun lance back in its resting place before responding.

"Well I'm certainly glad you're not the breed of custodians who see squishy humans like me as not much more than serfs." I spoke as I got to work drawing up designs. I was feeling a bit homesick at this point, so I decided I was going to make a lever-action design…but bigger. .75 cal was rookie numbers…we gotta pump it up. .950 JDJ. The Fat Mack. Scale up a bolt shell to fit the dimensions and move on from there…yeah. Now it's coming together.

"As if you wouldn't die happy being myserf, David." And there goes my train of thought. Damn you Slaanesh.

"I am a heterosexual adult male, and you're an attractive example of a genetically perfect human female. Not to mention your demeanor is sending enough signals to light up the astronomican." I shot back as I shook my head and got back to drawing out my designs.

"There's that sharp tongue of yours. If I wasn't on duty I would find a use for it."

"'On Duty' she says, as if she isn't doing her best impression of a house cat at the moment."

"This cat could still claw a fly in half in a tenth of a second should it annoy me." Not helping the cat accusations with that stretch, Raya.

I shake my head and turn back to my designs, continuing to draw things out. Okay, Marlin model of 1895, side ejecting side loading. Scale it up, swap out steel for adamantine-and those are Raya's arms around my chest and I feel her chin on my head.

"Ninety-Five calibre? Those are normally reserved for heavy bolters." She spoke, nestling herself to rest draped over me, I could feel two soft spherical objects pressing into my back, so I knew she removed her breastplate, and I could feel her hair framing my face.

"Y-yeah. I'm planning on making you a carbine…something a bit more maneuverable than your lance, but still heavy hitting." I muttered, pointing out the dimensions on the papers in front of me.

"How thoughtful. Manual operation?"

"Lever-action, more mechanically complicated than bolt but I don't have to worry about gas ports or recoil springs with this. Also…cowboy sh*t looks cool." I felt a grin grow on my face as I let myself relax a bit.

Things stayed like this for a bit, I would work, Raya would point at something and ask for clarification, and I would explain. It was a few hours, just there. Chatting, doing math. Occasionally Raya would take a few sips of tea that she had delivered to the room. I never cared for tea if it wasn't iced, but I could appreciate a decently brewed pot. The idle chatter was broken by Raya's tone of voice shifting from playful to a concerning amount of seriousness.

"David." She spoke, her arms tightening their grip around my chest. "You caused me an unnecessary amount of worry during your trip into the mines."

I let out a small sigh before I replied.

"And I apologize for that. I'll admit it, you were right, I grew overconfident in my foreknowledge thinking it would be a cake walk." I spoke, trying to trick myself into thinking the large finger rubbing circles on my chest was just Raya being idle.

"You have been placed into my care, David. Youbelongtome.You are notallowedto die." She spoke into my ear. Shivers went down my spine. Lord save me from strong willed women. A finger and thumb take hold of my jaw and turn my face towards her, and I'm met with hard green eyes and the face of a warrior who'd seen centuries of service. A Lady Custodes, addressing her charge with full authority.

"Do I make myself…perfectly clear, David?" Her eyes softened slightly as she spoke my name, but the tone was clear.

"Yes, Lady Raya…you know I'm going to try and keep my head attached to my shoulders."

"Do nottry.David. Do. You're expected to serve outfour centuriesof service. I expect to see you throughallof it." She spoke and I felt an eyebrow raise.

"Why do you care? You're supposed to see me through my supposed 'purpose' and return to Terra, are you not?" I asked, a spark of defiance entering my tone, causing her to giggle, her smile filling me with a sense of inhuman dread.

"Oh, *****." She speaks, and a shiver shoots down my spine, her eyes seemed to shine with a possessive light. "Our Lord, The Emperor of Mankind, gave me the orders as such. 'You will be his shield, his protector as he serves us. And his executioner should he betray us.'There's no end date, David. You're mine,till death do us part~" Oh dear.

And that's how I realized Raya wasn't assigned to me. I was assigned to Raya.

As her Emperor mandatedchew toy.

-Note From Lady Custodian Raya: I prefer the term Betrothed.-

-???? POV, Days later.-

Papa was working on me. I didn't have a body yet, but Papa was working hard. Mama was watching over Papa, and Big Sister was in Mama's hands. Big Sister wasstern. She spoke of duty and honor. How I would serve Grandpa with dignity and zeal. Teacher, who Papa always had on his chest, taught me how to listen, how to draw in the emotions and energy of the world.

I watched as Papa would convince Mama to let him leave the room, so he could make me. Uncle Yanbel was fun, he couldn't hear me yet. Papa worked for days. Adamantium and wood, he carved my stock by hand, fit for Mama's hands. My barrel, twenty-six inches of rifled fury, capped with an omni-directional muzzle brake reminiscent of Sister Boltgun. I was giddy, so close. So close!

It was another week before I was ready. Papa was in his and Mama's room, he prayed over me to the Carpenter.

"Lord…I come before you today, asking forgiveness for my failures, and requesting a blessing upon this weapon…Grant her the strength you have granted me, lord. Grant her the power to do her duty without fail, the power to fight on..until her duty is done. Grant her the patience so that her quarry may not bolt, and grant her peace, so that when her duty is done, she may rest without worry. Lord Christ Jesus, I pray, Amen." Papa spoke in a hushed whisper, and I felt the hands of the Carpenter in my chassis. A blessing.

Papa made me to protect Mama. Mama would use me to protect Papa. We were a family, and I will protect my family, even if I was a baby. I will be the best baby ever, I would not fail. I would not falter, not before the the green beasties or the sneaky stealers. I would fight the Xenie, the Beasties in the Warp, and I would protect Papa, Mama, Big Sisters Repentia and Vigil, Big Brother Grande and Teachers Dimitri, Magni, and Buddy.

"I am Terentia, and this I swear." I spoke to Daddy.

"...Raya…did you hear that?" Silly Daddy, Mama can't speak machine.

Terentia, the Foothill pattern heavy bolt carbine mk1.

She's a ninety-five caliber lever-action carbine with a twenty-eight inch fluted bull barrel fit with an Omni-Directional muzzle brake capped off with a wickedly spiked standoff device.

Now, you're probably asking, 'David, twenty eight inches is a rifle barrel length.' Yes. Yes it is. For a normal human. So while I can barely hold Terentia as she's a heavy chunk of adamantium and ironwood, Raya can twirl her around like a color guard with little to no issue. Compared to her near eighteen-foot gun-lance who goes by Vigil, I'm told, Terentia is positively compact.

Terentia has a capacity of nine plus one heavy bolter shells fed in a tubular magazine below the barrel. She's a side ejecting side loading model, and while I had some concerns with using pointed ammunition in a tubular magazine, test firing and drop testing proved to be perfectly safe even with a hot chamber. Her iron sights are peephole sights with a ramped front post with the capability of having optics added to her by virtue of being drilled and tapped for a scope base.

Overall, she's every bush hunters dream rifle.

"You flatter me, Papa!" Oh yeah…I can understand her. And I'm starting to pick up on the rest of the guns chatter too.

"Heyguey, that mechanicusculeroAxiom has been giving you sh*t ammo,Jefe." My shotgun was giving me flashbacks to back home, but his little sister was nice.

"Dad! Grande keeps swearing!" Repentia, eager little firecracker. My older weapons kept mostly quiet I noticed. Save for my .45.

"It is good to finally speak to you, my friend." Was all he said before falling silent and returning to his vigil once more. I will admit, I had a bit of a freakout when I started hearing my gunsf*cking talkbut I guess this is what the mechanicus must feel like.

Anyways. Back to Terentia. She was giggling as Raya ran her hands over her, getting a feel for her weight and the action.

"Faster, Mama, Faster!" Terentia giggled like a child, which, for being only a day or so old, would make sense.

"She's lighter than I expected for being composed of almost entirely adamantium." Raya spoke, bringing the carbine up to her shoulder and taking a firing stance.

"I carved off as much material as I could without compromising material strength. She's designed to work with high pressure AP and High Explosive rounds. I proofed her to Vengeance spec." I continued my explanation, watching as Raya ran the action in a split second and sent a round down range. The sound was like artillery going off with the primary charge, the hissing of the rocket filled the air for a moment before the impact and secondary charge rung the ears.

I had to hold my hat to my head with the rush of hot air that followed. Raya lowered the carbine with a smirk.

"Yes. This is an adequate engagement gift indeed."

"Mama, don't tease Papa! He's mortal, you'll break him!" At least one of them cares about my sanity.

Now the piece de resistance were some especially spicy pills I cooked up with Yanbel.

APHE. With an extra powerful primary charge they're leaving the barrel at over Thirty-Five-Hundred feet per second and accelerating once the rockets kick in. With a diamantine penetrator and a split second delay fuse, they're capable of punching through ceramite plate with ease, and adamantine plate with a straight shot. Auramite, I couldn't get my hands on, but I wouldn't bet against it. And with enough explosive mixture in the secondary charge to have Yanbel questioning my sanity, I expect that Raya will be able to blow a traitor marine clean inhalf.

Well. Maybe not clean.

Still, the grin on my face was wicked as I watched the fruits of my labor get placed down onto the range bench.

As I turned to leave the range my walk was stopped as a a soft set of lips graced my cheek followed by a whisper.

"Good Mortal."

Nope. Not dealing with this. I will admit I was probably doing my best impression of a tomato at this point but I got out of there, the sound of both Raya's and Terentia's giggling echoing behind me.

I met up with Yanbel in the workshop not long after, and decided to spill the beans.

"So…Yanbel, does every tech priest have conversations with their weapons or are mine particularly chatty?" I asked, and the normal hustle and bustle of the workshopfroze.

Yanbel, who's normally in a constant state of motion, did his best impression of a statue, freezing still with even his mechadendrites refusing to move, until he slowly turned to face me.

"You…hear them, Interrogator?" He asked, voice in awed whisper. I could hear the adepts around us whispering amongst themselves, and felt the glare of a particular adept my shotgun had warned me about on my back.

"Yeah…I do."

"HERETEK!" The voice came from behind, Axiom. A younger tech adept fresh from Mars. A traditionalist. His mechadendrites were twitching, he held an accusatory finger in my direction. Yanbel came to my defense.

"STAND DOWN, ADEPT!" He roared, his vox sending my ears ringing for the second time today. "I have been lenient with you due to your inexperience, Axiom, but you are trying my patience." As he spoke he rose to his full height, towering over everyone gathered, his mechadendrites snapping irritably.

"Being unenlightened to the glory of the Machine God does not exclude one from being granted His Gifts, Adepts." Yanbel speaks, his tone turning professor-like. "Many of you were recruited into the Cult Mechanicus for having even an inclination of understanding the spirit of the machine. To declare David a heretek isfolly."

"I refuse! He shirks the rituals and litanies that have served the Omnissiah for millennia! The only reasonable explanation that thislaypersoncan possibly perceive the machine, isdaemonic." Axiom accused, his peers darted away from him, forming a circle around him, Yanbel and I.

Binaric Cant filled the room, a whole trial, evidence, counterpoints, and judgement occurring in the span ofseconds.Yanbel, eyes hardening behind his implanted lenses, straightened himself to his full height once more before speaking.

"Axiom-249. For the crime of sabotage, sacrilege, defilement of holy munitions, and laying false accusations against a superior officer, you are sentenced toServitude Imperpituis.Adepts…seize him."

The other adepts fell upon him like a red tide…andstripped the implants from his flesh with their hands.Binaric screams of pain and calls for mercy were left unheeded as I watched a mechadendrite get torn away, a chunk of bloody flesh on the end. They dragged him away into the depths of the Exterminatus, screaming.

"My apologies, for sullying a momentous occasion such as this with violence, David. A layperson uninitiated into the Cult Mechanicus hearing the voices of the Machine is almost unheard of…David, I mustimploreyou, to please consider making the pilgrimage to Holy Mars. If your capabilities are this wondrous whilst untrained, I hesitate to imagine what you'd be capable of garbed in the red robes of the Mechanicus." As Yanbel spoke, he lowered himself to look me in the eye, one of his hands coming down to rest on my shoulder. Yanbel my friend, if you think I'm going to join after watching what just happened, you have another thing coming.

"You've given me a lot to think about, Yanbel…trust me, I'll give it the full consideration it's due."

TL's

Guey: man/dude
Jefe: Boss.
Culero: Asshole.

"What do you mean I'm confined to quarters again?!" I asked, slightly exasperated at the Inquisitor and Custodian.

"Not completely, but yes. Outside of your duties and lessons for your responsibilities as an Interrogator. Includingproperinteractions with the many factions within the imperium and abroad. To be quite frank, David, if I allow you free reign ofmyship I'm quite certain you'll find a way, whether you mean to or not, tostir the ship itself into a crusade." Vail spoke, sipping a cup of recaf whilst looking over a spread of dataslates on her desk. I pointedly ignored Raya's sultry whisper.

"Oh goody, ahoneymoon." That she purred directly into my comm-bead as Vail continued.

"I've received a priority dispatch to an Ice World known as Signalis IV, it is in the Segmentum Tempestus. Surveyors have come across ruins that they fear are xenos in origin. You will be accompanying me as I conduct the investigation toobserve. Until then; Lady Raya, I will trust Interrogator Foothill to be in fighting shape when we arrive?"

I felt a severe shiver run down my spine as Vails office was filled with a hearty chuckle amplified by the vox in Raya's helmet.

"I'm sure he'll be able to walk by then." Shepurred. I slowly turned to face Vail hitting her with a deadpan stare.

"You do realize what you're sentencing me to, yes, Inquisitor?" I asked as a large shadow was cast over my form.

"Doenjoyyour honeymoon, David. Maybe by the time we get to Signalis IV Lady Raya will have pulled that stick out of your rear." The words were said with a smirk and a wave as I was dragged out of the office.

—————————

Contrary to what her demeanor in the office was signaling I was not immediately set upon by a predatory centuries old virgin. I was allowed to sit at my desk for a bit in peace, double checking my weapons and disarming myself, leaving my shoulder rig and chest plate on the center of my desk.

"I have a question, David." Raya spoke, once again lounging on the bed. "Why do you pray to the Catheric God? You know that if any of our compatriots realize you're a 'heretic' even I would be hard pressed to fight the entire Inquisition." Huh, well this conversation was delayed longer than I thought it would be.

I turned on my seat to face her, I thought about it for a moment before speaking.

"Allow me to introduce myself properly, then. Lady Raya, I am ***** ********** As of this year I am 26 Terran years old, I am the son of a Minister of the Faith in Christ Jesus, the Grandson of an Elder Pastor of the Apostolic Assembly, and I myself have a degree in Theology." I began, leaning back in my chair and lacing my hands together in front of me.

"Growing up, I simply went through the motions, being obedient to my parents so that I wouldn't rock the boat. Never took it seriously until I was about sixteen years old, when I was beat todeath." The temperature in the room seemed to drop a few degrees as I saw Raya stiffen, eyes snapping to mine.

"Yeah…I was staying at a friend's house in the bad part of town, a party. Was only supposed to be for a night, a buddy and I were walking back from a convenience store, getting snacks, when we got jumped." I let out a mirthless chuckle thinking about it.

"Six cholo motherf*ckers decided they wanted the forty bucks in my wallet because I was the 'rich white kid'. My buddy Adrian told 'em to pound sand, and they didn't take kindly to that. At this point, I weighed maybe a hundred ten-hundred twenty pounds, and while I could throw a punch or an elbow alright, when six two hundred poundculerosdecide they want blood. Well, four fractured ribs, fractured eye socket, and a cracked skull." As I speak I point at a scar on my face, mostly hidden by my left eyebrow, and turn to point at a surgery scar on the back of my head, also mostly covered by my hair.

"Adrian and I got rushed to a hospital after a cop car passed by and saw us getting beat. I was unconscious at this point, but by the time I got to the hospital, I needed immediate care."

"While on the slab, I died for seven minutes."

I took a shaky breath, hated talking about this but I persisted.

"What I saw during those seven minutes, that's between me and God. But He told me then, that if I kept on as I was, I would not be Saved. And I took that to heart."

"Scared the sh*t out of my surgeon when I woke up with my head peeled open. They knocked me back out, and when I came to next. They were saying I wouldn't walk, that I'd have trouble speaking, that I'd be plagued with headaches for the rest of my life." I leaned back in my chair and laced my hands behind my head with a smirk

"I had sporadic nosebleeds and balance issues for about six months, but outside of that, I'm hale and hearty. Nary a migraine to be had. Last checkup I had, Doc said it looked like it never happened, save for the scars on my skin."

"Y'see, that's why I keep going forward in faith…and it's paid off. I've survived war that I'm not trained for, I've cast out daemons, I've been able to open my ears to the words ofmachines. So yeah. Even here, Thirty-EightThousandyears after the Rapture, I will hold my faith, because I need every Miracle I can get."

The room was quiet for a moment as I let my eyes drift shut, not gonna lie, felt good to get that off my chest. The guns were silent, Raya was quiet, until I heard a rustle and felt myself get pulled into a hug that I wouldn't have expected from a Custodian.

"Didn't I tell you that you're not allowed to die?" She snarked, I let out a scoff.

"That order was Retroactive, Lady Custodian?"

"Yes indeed, Lord Interrogator."

The rest of the night was a rather quiet venture, I vaguely remember talking about nonsense and falling asleep being used as a human teddy bear.

-500 years added to sentence of Interrogator Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Heresy-
-Record Sealed by order of Revelation, Emperor of Mankind, Note: Don't say I've never done anything for you, Nerd.-

—————————

When we reached Signalis IV two weeks later I was walking with a limp through reason of Raya and had decided to forgo my shotgun for this Soirée. I met Vail by the shuttle alongside Anya, Piotr, Triton and Soline. Another Ice World…yay.

Vail seemed to be more interested in Raya who was following behind me at the moment.

"Is she…glowing?" Vail asked, I shook my head.

"She's just smiling that much. Howdy folks." I greeted with a smile and a wave.

"Mama and Papa werewrestling." Terentia giggled, I held my eye back from twitching as I heard Vail's Bolt Pistol giggle knowingly.

"It is good to see you more relaxed, Father. Without so much stress on your shoulders, we shall purge the xenos even more effectively!" Sister Penance, she called herself, and she certainly sounded like a true-blooded sister of battle.

Vail brought my attention back to the flesh and blood companions I would be traveling with.

"We are going to be exploring a set of ruins dated to pre-Heresy, Interrogator, I expect you to conduct yourself as befits your station, that goes for all of you. The explorators are already aggravated by us getting primary entry, I do not needanotherdiplomatic incident." Vail spoke, switching back to professionalism in a split second. Anya and Piotr quickly snapped to attention, Triton and Soline simply gave bows of acknowledgment.

"I will do my best, Lady Inquisitor." I stated simply, getting a nod from Vail as we piled into the shuttle.

The ride was rather quiet, all things considered, the landing zone gave us a view of the ruins that we were to be exploring.

They didn't scream out xenos to me, but I guess the explorators wanted to play nice with the Inquisition. Concrete walls cracked from eons of war, war and tear, and justtime.

Nary a word was said whilst we're on the surface, the temperature above was even worse than Simia Orichalchae, even breathing was painful. So when Triton coaxed the main doors open we all rushed inside.

"The Explorators are being held back until we can verify the safety of this ruin. We will be splitting into two groups, Piotr, Soline, you will be going with David and Raya. Triton, Anya, you will be accompanying myself. David, if you manage to try and get this ruin to try and kill us, I'll convince Lady Raya tonot hold back." With that final threat accentuated with a poke to my chest, I raised my hands in surrender and we split.

To be completely honest it was a perfectlyboringmission. Sure we were on guard, but with Triton comming us fifteen minutes in with

"The security spirits have been appeased."

It was a rather heavy weight lifted off our shoulders. The ruin was obviously human at this point, considering I could read the script on the walls. Plain English, which was a pleasant surprise. I was able to guide the party without much issue.

Oh! Hangar! And an Armory! Come to Papa!

"Vail, this is David, discovered locations of interest." I reported before waiting, my comm-bead buzzed a second later.

"Acknowledged, moving to rendezvous, dead end on this end." Vail's voice buzzed in my ear as I got Soline to coax the doors of both locations open. I'm about to give Trazyn a run for his money with the amount of kleptomania coursing through my veins…wait a goddamn minute.

"Is that my truck?!" I exclaimed, laying eyes on four wheels I thought I'd never see again. It had been painted white, but I could recognize the custom bumper and cow-catcher anywhere. My license plate was gone, but the headache rack and everything else were identical. I ignored the calls of surprise from Piotr and Soline as I dug around in my pockets, I still carried my keys as a memento, but damn didn't think I would ever use em again.

The door 'click'ed unlocked and my grin went Feral. I inserted my keys into the ignition, said a quick prayer, and turned.

"

SUCH A CRICK IN THE

….thank you God.
-----------------------------------------------------

"DAVEY! How you doing buddy? Man have I got somesh*tto tell you about!" My truck was a bit of a chattermouth, and had the voice of my childhood. I was grinning like a loon even as I stepped out of the cab to take a proper look at it.

Ford Ranger, '03, it used to be a V6 but I could smell promethium burning so I'm guessing at some point in the last thirty eight thousand years Bubba here was upgraded.

"I've been running around all over the place, Davey! Some big lunk in Gold armor showed up, I got put on a boat, then a spaceship, they gave me a gun! MY GUN! Davey buddy to gotta find my gun! He's around here somewhere, I tell ya, he's a cantankerous old thing but you don't want anyone else in a foxhole with you I tell you what."

"Don't you worry, Bubba, we'll get you fixed up right." I spoke, before turning to Soline. "Soline, look around for a pintle mount matched to this vehicle. It shouldn't be far, I'm going to check out the armory. If my hunch is correct…we're gonna have a fun time. Piotr, please help her out." I ordered with a smile.

Raya accompanied me, as always, to the Armory, En route we were caught up with Vail, Anya and Triton. Vail, seeing my feral grin, immediately let out a groan.

"Emperor above what relic did you find now?" She asked, exasperated.

"I found my truck, and he pointed me this way to get his gun. And I can already hear said gun." I spoke, the smile never leaving my face as we entered the armory.

"Son, you'd best be telling me I hear what I think I'm hearin'." A deep bass filled voice tinged with age, a spark of hope in its inflection. "Well get this rag off of me, Boy! Don't leave me hanging!"

I acquiesced, pulling the tarp off of something I would've killed for before I got pulled into the 41st millennium.

The Browning M2 .50 caliber machine gun, a short recoil operated air cooled machine gun designed in 1922 by John Moses Browning. I hefted the gun in my hands and hurriedly made my way back to the hangar.

"David, you can't just-" Vail

"Too late, doing it anyway!"

"Atta boy."

-Ten years added to sentence of David James Foothill, Charge: insubordination.-

Soline had already gotten the pintle mount reinstalled onto the bed of the truck by the time I got back, and I immediately got to work.

Bubba, my truck, was ecstatic.

"You did it Davey! That there's Patton, he worked with your great granddaddy back in the day." He spoke as I got the .50 mounted onto the pintle, it was mounted with the barrel sticking over the cab of the truck, and once I got the final lynchpin installed, I pulled back the charging handle on Patton with a resoundingCHK-CHK.

"You're Jim's Boy?" The old machine gun asked as I popped his top cover off and inspected his feed tray.

"About three generations down but yeah, Old Timer." I spoke as I stepped back an idea spawning in my head as I saw the amount of free space left in the back of the truck.

"What do you think, Inquisitor? Think I can fit another pintle mount in the back? I'm thinking a storm bolter…" I spoke, acknowledging Amberley who had come to observe my mad fervor. She rubbed her chin for a second before responding.

"Two gunners, or one very skilled gunner and it'd be viable." She spoke, intrigue in her tone now that she saw that I was in my element.

"No…Heavy Storm Bolter. .95 cal, like Terentia." I muttered, image forming in my mind. I could hear Terentia giggling at Raya's side.

"Papa's gonna make us a Brother, Sister Penance!"

"Indeed, Little Sister." Oh shush you two.

With a plan in mind, I made my way into the drivers seat.

"What'd they fit you with, Bubba? I doubt you got through the heresy without some kind of armor." I asked, looking around the inside. Glovebox was empty, center console was empty too. Damn.

"Well, I'll tell ya Davey, I'm running a full eight cylinder promethium engine, I needed the extra horsepower, because those Thunder Warrior fellas. Sheesh were theyheavy." Bubba spoke, "I've gotthree thousand poundsof armor under the paneling, buddy, had my suspension upgraded so now I can haul with the best of 'em."

I felt a my grin grow just a bit bigger.

"Really said 'Built Ford Tough' huh?" I joked before leaning my head out the window, "Raya, Honey, would you mind manning the machine gun? Inquisitor, hop in as well, please." Raya's smile lit up her face at the public affection, and Vail just seemed happy to get off her feet as I let her into the passenger side door.

"So, Foothill, two more relics, not counting what else isn't nailed down in this place. I should loan you to the Salamanders at this point. Primarch Vulkan would return in a week." She smirked as she leaned back in her chair.

"Remember what happened last time you predicted something like that, Amberley?"

"Why yes, I got you married. You're welcome."

Mounting a second pintle to the back hitch of Bubba wasn't that difficult. The difficult part was designing the heavy bolter that burned its way into my mind and didn't want to compromise.

"Young buck's an ornery little fella ain't he?" Bubba quipped as I was hunched over a workbench, sketching out blueprints in the hangar of the Exterminatus. Yanbel, ever eager to observe archeotech and the ratheruniquepersonalities of such.

"The Omnissiah has blessed the machine spirit with perseverance, honored elder." He spoke, and I let out a chuckle.

"Are all my kids going to be stubborn guns? Is this my life now?" I asked the wall before shaking my head.

Rakel had taken a liking to hiding in the back of the cab, and stuck her head out of the rear window.

"Are you certain you would want a mini-Raya running around, David?" She spoke, and I whirled to face her with an accusatory finger,

"Do not put that evil on us, Woman! The last thing this ship needs is a pregnant Custodian, I know they're sterile but I don't want to tempt the blue f*cker." I spoke, earning a maddened cackle as she retreated back into the cab.

"Davey, buddy, you still gotta tell me more, you finally got hitched? C'mon pal, give me the details!" I swear I could see Bubba bouncing on his wheels like something out of Cars.

"Bub, let the boy work, we need someone to cover our six and we ain't getting any younger." Patton spoke up, chastising the excited pickup he was mounted to. With Bubba resigning himself to grumbles of nagging me later I was able to return to my designs. Yanbel had made his way over to the workbench.

"….David, this is a concerning amount of adamantium." HA, finally got him to break.

"I don't have to worry about weight constraints with a pintle mounted platform. Sides, if my math is right, he shouldn't weigh more than Patton."

"My concerns are for the mass-production of this model, David, the only munitorums with this capability would be Holy Mars and the Salamanders themselves." He explained and I raised an eyebrow.

"Well then at least I know it'll be in good hands, now won't I?" I snarked before chuckling with a wave of my hand, "besides this is just the initial draft, I'll trim the fat before we get to the manufacturing portion."

"You have dimensions here for separate barrels…40mm?" Yanbel inquired, I pointed to another set of papers with ammunition designs.

"The action itself is essentially a double barreled MK 19 Mod 4, with a belt swap and a barrel change we can have a fully automatic grenade launcher capable of launching 40mm munitions…a 42 round belt of Krak grenades and anything short of a tank is pink mist and scrap metal."

"Two bolts cycling at 450 rounds per minute leading to a cumulative fire rate of 900 rounds per minute." Yanbel mutters, going through the math.

"With the flip of a switch allowing the rate reducer to be disabled we can kick that up to a cumulative rate of 1200 RPM."

"1500 rounds per minute, actually, if my math is correct, David." Yanbel corrected me, and I went through the math myself once again,

"You're right, thank you Yanbel…good Lord we're making a Buzzsaw of a gun." I whispered, looking over the designs, Patton chose this moment to speak up.

"1500 RPM of .95 caliber HE bolt shells…and I thought Jim was off his rocker."

—————————

"What exactly is this…cannonyou built, David?" Inquisitor Vail asked as she observed the massive weapon currently mounted on a tripod in the firing range.

With a grin I pulled the bolt handle back and a simultaneousCH-CHUNKrang out through the range.

"This here is the Helldrake Pattern Heavy Storm Bolter. He goes by Drake. And we're about ready to test fire him." I spoke calmly, hauling over a few linked belts of specially prepared test ammunition.

"C'mon Pop, lemme at 'em!" Drake called out as I linked in the two belts.

"Drake is a short recoil operated double barreled belt fed fully automatic bolt weapon, weighing in at about 88 pounds with the tripod and about 72 without, he's a chunky boy, but can still be hefted by either one determined grunt or, preferably, two people. He's designed for use on stationary defensive positions or on vehicles, so man portability wasn't something I prioritized." I spoke quickly, slamming the top cover of his feeding tray down with his primary munitions ready to load.

"He's fitted with two munitorum standard .95 caliber barrels each clocking in at about 45 inches in length with slight modification to allow for quicker barrel changes. In addition to this, he's capable of swapping to two 16 inch 40mm barrels to allow for more area of effect engagement. Overall…he's my boy. Can't really put it better than that."

"Love you too, Pop, now quit yanking my chain and let some rounds loose let'sgo!" I let out a chuckle as o charged him and stepped away from the weapon, gesturing for Vail to step up.

"Would you do the honors, Lady Inquisitor?" I offered, Vail feigned flattery before stepping up and taking hold of the grips.

"I really do need to get some old-fashioned xenos purging done more often. I forget howfunmachine guns are." She quips before she lets loose with the test rounds, the concussion blasts her hair back but the feral grin on her face as the secondary detonations of the bolt munitions go off tell me all I need to know.

"So, you'll be mounting this to that relic speeder of yours?" Vail asks, standing up and fixing her mussed hair. I nodded.

"Oh yes. With Drake here mounted on the rear pintle, I'll have three-sixty degree coverage on all sides of the truck. With Anya and Piotr manning the guns, I can drive and still have space for two or three passengers in the cab, not counting remaining space in the bed." I explained, moving to inspect Drake. It looks like he handled the proof loads fine.

"Five months of effort for a Gun Truck?" Vail queries, a tinge of doubt in her tone.

"Vail you gotta understand, Bubba survived service through the Unification Wars and the Heresy. Patton has been fighting wars since 1939, even longer than Dimitri, with this young buck bringing up the rear, and me pulling as much as my Pa's racing days out of my genome as I can muster, I'll be giving the White Scars a run for their money."

"I'm sure they would love to take you up on that challenge, Little Smith."Brother Venters spoke, entering the range, and I felt a grin grow on my face once more. Venters had throughout this project provided assistance, and was part of why I named Drake as I did.

"Ah, Brother Venters, here to see the fruits of our labor?"

"Heya Uncle V!"

"Show some respect, Child!" Venters Boltgun was the epitome of an Imperial Space Marine in weapon form, although he seemed to have a twelve foot rod stuck in his chamber.

"No need, I could hear the test fire. It functioned without issue?"He asked and I nodded, darting over to the bench and picking up a data slate. I mulled over this for a while before coming to the test fire, but I owed it to Venters. I walked up to the Space Marine and offered the slate.

"Technical data and accurate blueprints for manufacture. A gift to the Salamanders for the work they do and the effort you've put in for the development of this weapon, m'lord. If any of His Angel's will make good use of this, I'm sure the sons of Vulkan will." Silence reigned for a few moments before Venters, almost reverently takes the dataslate from my hands.

"This is no small gift, David."He speaks, and it's the first time he's used my name. I nod resolutely.

"We have sixty-seven years, almost sixty six now, until the Despoiler kicks his crusade into high gear. I need allies, Brother Venters. And I can't think of any more worthy than the sons of Vulkan." I speak carefully, eyes locked on the red lenses of Venters' helm.

With measured slowness, he brings his one of his hands up to remove his helm, tucking it under his arm and matching my gaze. Charcoal grey skin, blazing red eyes that held a softness of their gene-father's kindness. Venters was old. I could see the wrinkles in his face and neck amidst aggressive burn scarring on the left side of his face. He lays an armored hand on my shoulder.

"You would have been a good Brother, Little Smith. I will make sure these plans get where they need to go. When you call, Interrogator David James Foothill, the sons of Vulkan will answer." He speaks, and without the distortion from his helm, I can just about hear him reminiscing about Andy Dufresne.

"And when the Salamanders need aid, I will bring as much as I can muster." I speak, determination burning in my breast.

"So mote it Be."
—————————

Two weeks after this, the officers of Vail's Retinue were called to her office. It seems we had received further orders.

"We are being assigned to Periremunda. There's been reports of Genestealer activity, amongst other things. We are being tasked to investigate. David, you will be acting in my stead on the ground." Vail spoke, and I was about to object when she rose her hand to cut me off.

"I understand that I employed Cain in the memoirs you've read, however the situation has changed. While we will be rendezvousing with the Valhallan 597th, I will not be using Cain as my figurehead. You need to learn how to conduct a proper Inquisitorial investigation, consider this a field test."

"You sure picked one hell of a field test, Ma'am." I grumbled, crossing my arms as Venters let out a hearty laugh.

"Not to worry, Little Smith, I will be accompanying you groundside. This will be a fine opportunity to test out your blend of relics and wargear."

"…it seems we walk into battle much more prepared this time, Master David."

Yeah, Bud…that it does
------------------------------------

-Transcription of interaction between Sanctioned Psyker Rakel, Inquisitor Amberley Vail, and Lady Custodian Raya-

SPR: We must stop at Aegis VII en route to Pererimunda, Inquisitor.

IAV: Our course is already set, Rakel, transitioning from Warp travel to Realspace could delay usyearsif we're unlucky.

LCR: I'm certain there is a reason why the Psyker is insisting on this.

SPR:

I am.

-A loudclangas Lady Custodian Raya drops to a knee-

LCR: My Lord.

SPR:

IAV: Another gift…beyond Lady Raya, My Lord?

SPR:

IAV: …we'll plot the course immediately, My Lord.

SPR:

LCR: I believe that will have the opposite effect, My Lord.

-Sanctioned Psyker Rakel lets out a heavy sigh that echoes throughout the room-

SPR:

-Sanctioned Psyker Rakel collapses to the floor unconscious-

IAV: I pray to that man. I'veburnt citiesfor that man.

LCR: Would you rather he show up in his fully matured aspect, Inquistor? My predecessors told me the stories of the Heresy. Of the Seige on Terra. I spent centuries in Service to Him on Terra, Inquisitor. Believe me when I say this: If you witnessed his full power…you would not survive. He acts this way with us, foryoursake. He is inperpetual agony, Amberley Vail. The fact he can put on this frankly childish persona is a testament in and of itself to his strength.

IAV: …I understand, Lady Custodian.

LCR: Good. Do not question your Faith in Him again. It offends me.

IAV: Yet you're marrying a Heretic.

LCR: Tiny Mortal says what?

IAV: Nothing, Lady Custodian.

LCR: that's what I thought.

-Record Sealed by order of Revelation, Emperor of Mankind-

-Aegis VII, Northern Continent, Vault, ??? POV-

Lifeforms Detected, assessing threat level.

Two Humans and a Custodian, armed, but not in a combat state.

"What is with that Golden f*cker and sending me to Ice Worlds?!" Human, Male, approximately 26 years of age. He approaches the Cradle.

"Perhaps our Lord the Emperor of Mankind is punishing you for your Heresy, David." Human Female, bearing the rosette of His Emperor's Most Holy Inquisition. Designation updated to 'Inquisitor', human Male's designation updated to 'David'.

"I am an adherent to the Imperial Truth, the twelve foot tall extremely powerful nigh immortal Psyker man says he's not a god. I resent these heresy accusations." David speaks, the Custodian, Designation 'Raya' sub-designation Aquillan Shield rolls her eyes.

"Shut up and get in the big chair, Interrogator." The Inquisitor orders, David designation updated to 'Interrogator'.

"It says the user must be bare, Boss. I would rather not be naked on anice planet." The Interrogator responds. He is correct, new user integration requires full skin contact.

"It's nothing Raya hasn't seen before, and I've seen worse.Strip."

—————————

Initializing Silver Carapace OS vers. 1.0.1

Initializing neural interface.

"OWf*ck!"

Neural Interface connected along C1-L5 Vertebrae. Deploying synth-skin.

"What is with the freakincold!"

Deploying Metamuscle fibers, initializing user enhancement protocol. Unlocking power helm case number 24601.

"Raya don't you dare-"

Aegis Pattern Power Helm 24601 detected.

Rebooting System. Initializing User Interface.

—————————

Raya was smirking after slamming the power helm over my head. She crosses her arms with a pout.

"The first donning of power armor is supposed to be a glorious ceremony, not the whinging of a maiden worried about a little pinch, dear." She spoke, and I couldn't really respond as it felt like instructions on the use and functionality of this suit were being downloaded into my brain and it waspainful.

"

A deep voice spoke from within the helmet. "

I raised my hand in front of my face, the shackles on the mechanical throne I had been forced into finally open and allowing me to move. My hand was covered in a black glove made of fibers resembling synthetic muscle. I clenched it into a fist, immediately I could feel an enhancement in my strength.

"

The voice spoke, the suit's machine spirit, I assumed.

"

As the voice continued I could see the fibers on the glove go rigid, the fingertips seemingly sharpening to claws as it did so.

"

Silver, as is what I would dub the armor despite its black coloring, continued his explanation and I could see a light blue field of sparks emanate from my knuckles for a split second.

"

Jerk. Locking even more badassery behind something like 'inexperience' or 'your own wellbeing, David'. Either way however, I was rather enjoying the armor, even as I removed the helm from my head with a 'click-hiss'.

"I think I'm gonna be able to have some fun with this, Boss."

"You'd better. Our Lord himself sent us here, and I won't have you mothball this gift out ofspite."
—————————

We were en route to Periremunda when Vail started to go over the Legends, the cover stories we were to have memorized by the time we arrived. Most of them were fine, but I had some issues with mine.

"Amariachi? Vail do you even know what amariachiis?" I ask, leaning back in the chair in her office.

"A traditional musician native to the Rynn's World Southern Hemisphere." Vail responds and I hide a smile behind a mug of recaf.

"Have you ever seen one in person, Amberley?" Already an idea was forming in my head, oh I was going to make her regret this decision.

"…God-Emperor preserve me you used my name, you're plotting something. No, I haven't, I assume you're going to find a way to show me." She groans, palming her face, and let my grin show.

"If you can tolerate me going fullmariachi, as would be necessary to stay in character. I'll make you whatever gun you want." I offer, leaning forward and extending a hand, "c'mon, won't you shake this poor sinner's hand?"

Vail actually took a moment to consider it, fully prepared to just say 'no' by the look on her face, but a month of warp travel boredom must've stirred her curiosity because she shook my hand, before using that same hand to pull me forward until our noses were nearly touching to glare at me.

"You will hold off on whatever insanity you have planned until tomorrow. I will need a full nights sleep to deal with yourbullsh*t, David. Am I understood?" She speaks calmly, enunciating every word with a sickly sweet smile. My own smile suddenly becomes nervous.

"Yes, Inquisitor"

"Good Interrogator. You're dismissed."

—————————

Later that day found me working with Yanbel in the armory. We were doing basic maintenance and I was looking over a lasgun in my hands as I was talking mostly nonsense with Yanbel.

"With enough time, patience, and copper wire we could convert every rifle in inventory to a Hellgun, Yanbel." I commented, swapping out a heat-warped focusing lens for a fresh one.

"While an interesting concept, I would have to turn you into a servitor if you did so whilst not a member of the Mechanicus, and the reprisal from Lady Raya would destroy the ship." Yanbel replied casually as he was performing maintenance rites on Vail's power armor, a gaudy piece, whilst effective at enhancing her capabilities, was completelyimpossibleto blend in anywhere in. Raya could at least manage tohide, somehow, but there's so much filigree on Vail's armor, impressive as the craftsmanship is, that ithasto be damn near impregnable because the moment she shows up in this thing it'll catch a bunch of bullets just by virtue of the light shining off the gold.

-Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: that would explain why it's constantly under maintenance whenever I'm done using it-

"You just don't trust the grunts to be responsible with Hellguns."

"I don't trust the laypeople to be responsible with Hellguns, no." Yanbel replied with a nod and I let out a bark of a laugh.

"Well then…so I'm going to need a trumpet." I start, placing down the lasgun back onto the rack.

Yanbel freezes for a split second before continuing his work.

"Colour me intrigued. Go on…"

—————————

-The following morning, approximately 0500 Terran Standard Time. Amberley Vail POV-

In hindsight, I shouldn't have taken that wager. But I will admit that I did let my curiosity get the better of me.

I had consulted with Rakel yesterday to see if this would be something particularly egregious, but she just started laughing. That should've been my first clue.

David must've bribed Raya with something to get into my quarters because I was woken up by the sound of atrumpetbeing blaredfartoo close to my bed.

There he was, at the foot of my bed, in a gaudy black uniform with silver filigree, a massive hat on his head, and thatdamned trumpet at his lips.

I'll give him credit for his grit as he simply kept playing despite my throwing a knife past his head.

For the first few hours it was simply my life being accompanied by, admittedly decently performed, instrumentals. He followed me throughout the ship, blasting melodies out of that trumpet with a fervor I could only assume was mischief fueled.

Could I bring him up on heresy charges for excessive music? Possibly. Would I survive the attempt? Probably not. Oh Emperor Above he'ssingingnow.

"Para Bailar la Bamba!"He's a tenor, well practiced, obviously has had a vocal coach at some point. Hecouldplay the part of a hired musician…if hewould stop bloody following me!

"Do you not have duties to attend to, David?" I questioned finally, earning a lull in the vocals and finally a spoken response. I noticed his voice was slightly hoarse.

"Querias una Mariachi, Inquisidora."

"InGothic,David." I snapped.

"You wanted a Mariachi, Amberley, this is what they do, follow around a client, or a target, playing traditional music and singing."

"Forsix hours?!"

"Grandpa Juan once had a gig that lasted from dawn till 0200, Boss, we still got time. Aaaarrrrriba!"He accentuated his last word with a long rolling of his 'r's and blasting out more melodies.

Normally my patience would last longer, but David, my foolish Apprentice, always managed to worm his way right into a nerve.

I ripped that trumpet out of his mouth and threw it at the bulkhead.Emperor Above that felt

.

"You are free to come up with a new Legend for your cover on Periremunda, however, if you don't have it ready and memorized by 1900 tonight, Iwillmake you be a chippendale dancer." Being completely honest the blood draining from his face made the rest of my day after that.

"I don't have the physique for that…" I would be more concerned with a jealous Raya if I were you, David.

"Then you'd best get to work then, shouldn't you?" I knew he'd figure something out by the end of the day. As annoying as he was, he was a good student; and someone I could say I was proud to teach. He was just a tadsoft. That would be fixed as the years went on, of course, but these first few years with him were difficult.

Even as he dashed through the bulkheads to get to his quarters I let a small smile grow on my face, one of slight pity. I could practically see that weight on his shoulders, so much knowledge, yet his morals and beliefs were so different from my own.

Raya reports to me, occasionally…when she feels like it. Updates on his adaptations, adjustments, and mental state. The first year, he was practically a shut in. Working mainly with Yanbel, Flicker, and Rakel. Now, after Raya decided to force him out of his shell with her thighs, he's opening up a bit.

Occasionally I can catch him telling stories of the old days to Rakel, who watches with rapt attention as he describes an era of peace that I can't fathom.

Other times I've found him muttering prayers at his desk, tears flowing down his face as he mourns the many members of his family he's left behind. I'd feel a pang of sympathy, but squash it down.

Life is pain, David. Anyone who says otherwise is trying to sell something.

Summary:

This is a combination of what was originally 3 chapters, just a heads up

-From 'Penance Unending' Memoirs of Interrogator Legios Repentia David James Foothill, record holder for longest lasting Legios Repentia Sentencing in the Imperium of Man. Note from Legios Repentia David James Foothill: Raya chose the title.-

Four more months of travel in the warp later and we arrived in Periremunda's orbit.

I accompanied the Lady Haut Vail as the young Lord Haut Vail XVIII, a younger sibling charged with protecting his willful older sister.

Not my idea, I had proposed a simple alteration from mariachi to your stock standard private musician. Amberley, after having a conversation with Raya and Rakel that I wasn't privy to, decided to have a ball of a time playing dress up with me as the rather unwilling canvas.

"I can deal with the frills, the frankly absurd amount of silks, and excessive amounts of jewelry…but why, onGod's Green Earth, did you have to dye my hair blonde?" I muttered once we were in the back seat of Amberley's requisitioned Aircar, unfortunately Bubba wasn't 'regal' enough to be the transport of nobility.

"No sibling ofmineis going to have hair the color ofdirt." Vail, at this time, is dressed as a typical Imperium noble, crimson dress with an excessive amount of frills, lots of filigree and jewels, and a hairdo that reminded me of Dolly Parton.

"This whole charade is going to go to hell once Venters and Raya drop in, Boss." I remarked, leaning back in the seat, letting a smirk grow on my face as Flicker let out a snort from the driver's seat. This causes Vail to drop the persona as her own smirk graces her features.

"David, our presence here must remain as secret as possible for as long as practical. You know exactly the reason why." Amberley spoke with a huff, pulling out a hand mirror and making sure her 'face' was still in place.

"Rogue Mechanicus Tech-Priest, Tyranids, Chaos cult, general Ciaphas levels ofbullsh*t. Not to mention anything else that I may have stirred up by lighting up Drogan like a candle last year." I replied, repeating the information from the brief in a curt manner.

"Indeed. Don't worry, David, you'll be able to get back into combat dress fairly soon. Once we get settled into the hotel, you can get your helm in place and get to work being my representative with Keesh and the General. Rakel will help us find some of the nests, you get to try out that new suit, and I get to observe from a safe distance for once." She lets out a laugh and I chuckle in suit.

"And that's why you have the power armor in the boot of the car, is it? To observe from a safe distance?" I shot back, earning a 'tut-tut' waggle of a finger in my direction as the persona of the Lady Haut Vail slipped back on in an instant as the car slowed to a stop.

"Those garments are absolutelyboorish, dear brother. If I have to wear them on this planet, why, I might just have to tell Mother about it, and you know that won't end well for you." She spoke as the door opened up and I exited out, adjusting my coat. The same brown suit jacket that I landed on Gravalax in. I didn't like this deployment, the subterfuge. There was a weight in my chest that hadn't lessened since we broke atmosphere, and with my armament limited to Buddy, my .45 tucked under my jacket, I was about as twitchy as Simeon. And that's without a veritable co*cktail of stims flowing through my veins. When Buddy broke his almost ever present silence, I knew things were going to go to

.

"We're going to need more ammunition, Master David."

---------

Principia Mons was an urban area, winding roads and large buildings spanning as far as I could see from the Penthouse that would be our staging area. Flicker, Simeon, Rakel and Yanbel were all around, setting up the Penthouse for the proper use as a temporary headquarters, i.e: Placing weapons just about everywhere, setting up vox equipment to speak with theExterminatusand by virtue of that Venters and Raya.

"You're awfully quiet there, Foothill." Flicker comments, approaching with an easygoing smile, I could see the glint of a metal tooth in his half smile from our spar a year back.

"Got a bad feeling about this operation. I know it'ssupposedto go to sh*t, but there's this sinking feeling in the back of my mind that things are going to getworse." I mutter softly, pulling my chestplate over the Silver Carapace and strapping additional magazines for my pistol to my left thigh. Flicker gave a nod and handed me my shotgun and a bandolier of shotshells.

"Well, David, that's what these are for, ain't they?" He snarks and I let out a scoff of a laugh. Taking Grande and slinging him over my shoulder.

"We got your back,Jefe!" Grande speaks, he's loaded with some special pills I cooked up with some help from Venters. Inferno shells with some extra promethiankick.Repentia kicks her pilot light on with a giggle that I couldhearthe manic smile in.

"Let me at that traitor Inquisitor, Dad! I'll slag himgood!"She sparks, and I let a soft grin grow on my face. Eager Kid. I tucked my helmet under my arm and nodded in thanks at Flicker before I approached Rakel. Simeon twitched out a nod of acknowledgement before his implant hit him with some kind of tranq, and I felt a stab of pity. He was haunted by his actions, and even now under the influence of tranquilizers he was twitching unconsciously. Rakel turned to face me quickly.

"Restrict your compassion…for now. We'll need him as he is." She speaks, more lucid than normal. "The Shadow hungers…but the warp is writhing. More eyes are watching than normal." With this declaration that sinking feeling gets worse and my approaching question died in my throat.

I step away from the group and find my way into the room that I would call home for this campaign. My hands are shaking, cold sweat is beading on my brow as I feel myself sink to my knees and clasp my hands in prayer.

--------

-Inquisitor Amberley Vail Editorial Interlude, Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: David Refuses to go into detail about what transpired during his prayer, however for sake of clarity I will relay my own recounting of this event, as I was lucky, or unlucky depending on your point of view, to be there.-

The moment I saw David speed walk his way to his temporary quarters, I knew what he was going to do. I moved to intercept, he needed to cease this Heresy before I would be forced to kill him. I made it into the room and closed the door behind me and was about to speak before I felt the Voice of the Emperor burn it's way into my mind.

"Hold, Inquisitor. Observe…"He speaks, and my words fade before they're born.

David knelt, hands clasped in front of him as his whispers seemingly echoed off the walls, I didn't even have to ply my trade to hear him.

"Our Father, who art in Heaven. Hallowed be thy name." There's a weight in the words.

"Thy kingdom come, Thy will be done, on earth as it is in Heaven." I blink, and there'slightcoming from David's clenched hands.

"Give us this day our daily bread, and forgive us our trespass, as we forgive those that trespass against us." The light grows in brightness and my eyes are forced shut once more, I open them again, and am forced to cut back a gasp as there's amanstanding there. He's clad in a white robe leaning over David with a hand on his head. He smiles at him, and atme. It's a soft thing, but peaceful. His lips mirror David's as he continues.

"Lead us not into temptation, butdeliver usfromevil." Tears are falling from David's eyes, the man kneels down and whispers something in David's ear in a language I can't understand. He stands, gives me a nod, and vanishes. The Emperor's Voice fills my head once more.

"Jesus of Nazareth…an ally. Foothill's faith is strong. You'd need not rob him of a tool that will be brought to bear against the Enemy. The war is growing. The Ruinous Powers are sending forces to bear. It is with this in mind I declare this: David James Foothill is

Heretic. He will do the best work he can in your retinue, Inquisitor. Go forth, Amberley Vail, and do My Work."

It will be done, My Lord.

I walk towards David as his prayer comes to an end, and place a gentle hand on his shoulder, I see an object clenched in his hands…A large wrought Iron Spearhead, stained with blood.

"Come, David." I speak, voice softer than I would normally address him, even as he shakes, hands quaking as his eyes can't seem to leave the relic in his hands. "We have work to do."

"I don't know if I have the strength to do it, Amberley." He whispers, voice cracking despite his wiping of the tears from his face. I give his shoulder a reassuring squeeze.

"He wouldn't have given that to you if you didn't, *****." I respond gently, and David rises to his feet, a weight gone from his shoulders as he straightens up and cracks his neck. He gives the relic a final lingering look before he tucks it away. He turns to face me and I bring a hand up to wipe a lingering tear from his cheek, a chuckle rising from my throat.

"I forget how young you are, sometimes, David. Then my maternal instincts kick in and I feel the need to protect you as if you were my own son." I confess, stepping back.

"God, No. I wouldn't survive being your kid. Oh God I'm going to have to help teach your kid…" I laugh at his reaction, even as he covers his head with his power helm and his voice becomes tinged with the Vox.

"C'mon, Boss, let's go squash some Bugs."

Indeed.

-----------

-Buddy the .45 POV-

While David had fought Genestealers on Gravalax, the two of us were both unenhanced at that point, myself from the transition from thirty eight thousand years of warp travel and David by his nature of being a simple unarmored human.

Here, in the undercity of Principia Mons, we hunted the genestealer Patriar with the efficiency of a proper squad. David, enhanced by the Silver Carapace kept up with Simeon even in the penal legionnaire's Slaught enhanced state.

"Come! Be purified in the flame of Fury!" Repentia yelled, spewing a gout of napalm that turns three purestrains into bubbling puddles of slag. The tunnels are thick with the smell of burning promethium, puddles of what used to be genestealer hybrids dot the area. David ducks a swipe of an axe that must seem to move in slow motion to his carapace enhanced senses.

"

." Silver declares as David retaliates with a side kick that pulps the assailants upper half. We continue our assault, Vail is in her power armor, fighting alongside David and Simeon, laying down a hail of hate with her integrated heavy bolter.

The power armor's machine spirit is young, undisciplined…and lazy. He's capable of enhancing Vail even more than he is now, yet lacks motivation. Shameful. As David moves to cover Vail while she clears a malfunction in her heavy bolter, I speak to him.

"You are a

, child! Do your duty! War does not care for your whining, you were made to

! So

" I snarl from my place in my holster. "On your left, David!" I cry quickly, alerting David to a hormagaunt dashing towards us on the ceiling. David blasts a sizzling hole in its chest with Grande.

"Tan picante para ti, pendejos?! (That spicy enough for you, Assholes?!)"Grande snarks. He's been relishing in this combat, fitted with ammunition to match his fiery temper.

The assault continues, with the 'stealers growing less and less organized the larger the pile of their corpses becomes. Eventually we corner the patriarch in his lair, and his voice rattles through the cavern through the mouths of the dying.

"

It cries, a dozen voices joining the keening screech of the Purestrain's inarticulate roar. David draws me from my holster and I flood the round with his anger, with the blessing of the Carpenter granted earlier this day. I can feel the spear adding its own energy to my ammunition as well, and if I had a mouth I would be grinning wickedly.

"I do what I can." David speaks, then pulls my trigger. The patriarch's head is deleted in a splash of gore and white light, and his body is riddled with lasbolts, bolt shells, scattershot, and Rakel, eyes glowing with power from the warp, launches a bolt of lightning that reduces it to ash.

"…when did you figure out how to do that, Rakel?"Vail asks, observing the pile of ash that used to be the purestrain patriar.

"Just now. The chittering hunger is rathergrating, Lady Inquisitor."

——————

The following week consisted of more genestealer purging, whilst sending out feelers to Gavarrone to see if we could make contact with someone from the convent. Nothing too obvious, to try and keep our cover, but I knew that Killian and Metheius were there, hiding in the convent. The sooner we could secure Shadowlight, the sooner we could focus on the Tyranids in the walls.

As of right now I was hidden in an alleyway along the main route that Cain was supposed to take on his way to meet with Keesh, where he would be ambushed by Genestealers.

"

Silver's voice echoed in the helmet as the Auspex screen highlighted the convoy of Justicars approaching, and the large sanitation truck that passed a second before decided to bury its nose into the guard railing. Welp, time to go to work. For this sortie I was solo for now, I was perched on a balcony that had a wonderful bird's eye view of the highway. I had left Grande with Flicker and had taken up Dimitri for this party, and as I lined up the reticle on the optic with the driver of the truck.

"Stalking a man is like hunting any other animal, choose the wrong moment and your opportunity is forever lost." Dimitri spoke, his reticle adjusting itself for distance as I watched a justiciar approach the truck, and a familiar monocycle being double ridden approaches an overly polished limousine. I shift the reticle and my aim over to the Monocycle, confirming what I remembered of the novel and seeing a shotgun cradled in the rear rider's arms.

I feel the rifle hit my shoulder more than hear it go off as I pull the trigger, thanks to a favor Yanbel cooked up especially for this operation, aBramitsuppressor, and I also suspected Dimitri was doing his damnedest to tell physics to f*ck off. I worked his bolt as his barking laugh filled my ears.

"получил ублюдок! (poluchil ublyudok!) ((Got the f*cker!))"

Hell broke loose. The driver pulled a shotgun just a hair too slow and earned a lasbolt to his face for his trouble, the civilian populace scurrying away, but I could see a head of green hair that could only belong to Zemelda diving for cover behind the car that housed Cain and Jurgen. I provided overwatch for the first minutes of the ambush. Popping genestealer heads whenever I could get a decent shot. Good lord there's a lot more here than I remember.

Some things, it seems, were fated. Because Keesh's aide, who's name I couldn't bother to remember, still got his ribs pulped by a shotgun blast, and Zemelda proved to be a dab hand at a rifle, joining Cain and Jurgen in the defense of their car. I made to start sprinting my way down to them when the air was filled with the roar of an Arvus Lighter Shuttle…and the unmistakable riffs of Spiderbait's cover of Black Betty.

"

" Bubba shouts from the sky as he's deployed in a hot drop that would make Jeff Moreau green with envy, "Today's forecast calls for a spot of

, followed by scattered showers of high explosives, brought to you by none other than

The black-clad Deathwatch Space Marine is manning Drake, and laying down a line of fire that shreds the vehicular cover that the 'Stealers were hiding behind and the 'Stealers themselves with prejudice. I can see Anya and Piotr in the cab, utilizing Bubba's bulk to hit a Hybrid brandishing another shotgun clad in a jacket that was arguably more of a threat than the scattergun. Almost three tons of fun paste the hybrid, and Dimitri's voice snaps me out of my shocked stupor.

"There goes any chance of staying quiet,tovarisch."

"

Silver declared as I slung Dimitri over my shoulder and leapt from my perch. I hit the ground and sprinted, crossing the two hundred yards between my perch and the highway at a speed fueled by adrenaline and bioelectricity. Taking advantage of the powered armor's enhanced mobility I vaulted over the guardrail and proceeded to get bitchslapped across the length of the highway by a hormagaunt.

"

WHUMP! The sound of tearing metal and shattering glass. I grit my teeth as I feel rage burn in my chest.

"My patience is wearing

." I growled out, Silver broadcasting my voice and allowing me to tear my way out of the shattered civilian car, bringing one of the doors with me and flinging it at the Hormagaunt, cutting off one of its arm blades and following it up with a shot from Buddy, dropping it sans one head. I approached Bubba and readied myself.

"Tag out, Brother Venters, take care of the obstruction, would you kindly?"I speak, earning a quick nod and a quicker position swap. I'm now manning Drake, laying down suppressive fire over the increasingly numerous number of hybrids trying to take potshots at us.

"Howdy, Pa!" Drake calls as he switches off his rate reducer, the firing rate almost doubling, allowing me to cut an approaching technical in half. Venters approached the sanitation truck, and with ease expected of one of the Sons of Vulkan, Flipped it over the edge of the guardrail and out of the road.

"HAUL ASS CIAPHAS!"I shouted, seeing said commissar pull Zemelda into the limousine and Jurgen burns rubber. I feel Bubba shift as Venters hops into the bed, manning Patton as we join Ciaphas, Jurgen and Co. in Hauling Ass. The latest film brought to you by the Adeptus Propaganda.
------------

We were met at Keesh's headquarters by Vail, who had already taken Zemelda under her wing by the time we rolled up. What I was not expecting was the package tucked under Vail's arm, and the White Rose Sister of Battle waiting for us as well.

"Lancebearer!" The Sister announces, forming the sign of the Aquilla. I hop off the bed and turn to face Vail who simply shakes her head tiredly and opens up the package tucked under her arm, revealing the severed heads of Killian and Metheius.

"Things have gotten much more complicated, David." She speaks, and that twisting feeling in my gut returns with searing intensity.

"...I figured, Boss."
------------

While Cain waited with Keesh, Amberley pulled me into a side room with the Battle Sister where she addressed the elephant in the room.

"Shadowlight is currently still secure in the Gavarrone chantry. Unfortunately, according to Palatine Lena." The now identified Battle Sister nodded her head in greeting, stark white hair framing a face bereft of baby fat and a tattoo of a rose on her cheek. Vail continues her explanation.

"The Chantry has been facing multiple attempts at infiltration by chaos cultists and the Canonness is concerned that an all out assault may be brewing." Vail spoke and I can see her resisting the urge to rub at her forehead exasperatedly.

"So two major concerns have been dealt with at the hands of the White Roses, but now we have whatwasa minor problem deciding it wants to be a big problem." I summarized, rubbing the bridge of my nose with my thumb and forefinger. "And you, Sister Lena, you called me something before, some kind of title."

The Sister of Battle seemed to brighten up with the smile that lit up her face.

"Yes, Sir Lancebearer! His Holiness the Emperor of Mankind came to the Canoness in a dream! With a single swipe of her power sword she cleaved the heads of the traitors from their shoulders. The order of the White Rose is at your command, Inquisitor!" Lena relayed, smile never leaving her face as she turned to face Vail.

"You didn't answer his question, Palatine."

"He is the Lancebearer. He bears the Lance of the God-Emperor Himself. It's not a complicated title, Inquisitor." Lena chirps, turning around to face me once more, that manic look in her eyes reminding me waaaaaaay too much of Raya when I'm under house arrest. I could feel the spearhead growing warm in its place strapped to the back of the chest plate I wore, and a realization tears through my mind.

"Longinus…" I whisper, earning another sign of the Aquilla from Lena and a pointed look from Vail.

"David, you will be going to Gavaronne to assist in the defense of the Chantry until I can get Cain and Jurgen over to secure Shadowlight. We're going to need Jurgen if my fears are proven correct." Vail speaks, suddenly sounding more like a commander than I've ever seen her. "You havecarteblancheto defend Shadowlight, I don't care what you do as long as anything that tries to take that artifact from us intopink mist. Am I understood?"

I took my helm and placed it back over my head.

"I'm taking Venters."

"Shut up and get in the karking truck, David!"

"Yes ma'am."

—————————

The Gavarrone Chantry of the order of the White Rose was a fair bit bigger than I recalled from the novel, but that may have been the amount of activity going on. Having been dropped off by the same shuttle that supplied me with the image of Bubba flying, we drove down the main highway of Gavarrone. Piotr and Anya were driving as Venter's and I manned the weapons in the back with Sister Lena poised to provide AG (Assistant Gunner) support for Drake. Piotr's voice buzzed in my comm-bead.

"That's a lot of Battle Sisters, David." He observed, and he wasn't wrong, there were power armored bodies running around the chantry like bees. They wereeverywhere. It wasn't just them, I could see the Gavarrone sect of the PDF assisting. Activity ceased as they witnessed Venters in the bed with us, most of these PDF folks thought that the Emperor's Angels were myths, now there was one here. In pitch black armor riding around in a ranch truck.

"Take us in, Pete." I responded, tapping Bubba's roof. I noticed Anya slap her cousin's shoulder scoldingly and suppressed a grin before Lena spoke, drawing my attention to her.

"We need to report to the Canoness, Lancebearer." She explains as she hops from the bed of the truck when we reach the courtyard of the Chantry, Venters and I dismount and I approach the cab. Piotr rolls down the window and I address the two Vostroyans.

"Keep your heads on a swivel and the doors locked. I don't trust anyone here who hasn't been gene-scanned. I'll be getting to work on that as soon as I can get the Canoness to listen. Watch each other's backs. Anya, hook up to Patton's remote system. Get him linked to your auspex and turn anything with an extra hand or an eight pointed star into mulch." Piotr's gas masked face conveyed an emotion I could only sympathize with as the window rolled back up and I could still hear Anya's gleefullaughas the solenoid system kicked in and Patton's barrel matched up with her sightline.

"DamnationI will never get used to this feeling." Patton muttered and I shook my head before returning to join Venters and Lena.

As we walked, Venters' voice buzzed my comm-bead.

"I think the Sisters are more incensed by your presence here than my own, Little Smith."Ah the ancient technique of private comm channels and hermetically sealed power helms. Always fun.

"Apparently the Emperor's pulled the 'Divine Inspiration' card and the Canoness has gone full zealot. I'm hoping I can leverage that to get her to gene-test the PDF forces before I get the Exterminatus to drop additional firepower." I replied as we made our way through the intricate halls of the chantry. Lorgar's fanfiction draped the walls, and in some cases was carved into the stone itself. Lena noticed my observations.

"TheLecticto Divinitatus,it's holy words give us guidance and inspiration in these difficult times, Lancebearer." Lena speaks as we walk, and I let out a sigh.

"My name is David, Sister Lena." I mutter and she turns to face me with a reverence that is frankly disconcerting.

"And David James Foothill is theLancebearer, as declared by the Emperor of Mankind. You have been chosen-"

"To do great things, Iknow, Sister Lena." I cut her off, pushing forward to get further down into the chantry. "It's not like I'm not told that by mywifeon a daily basis. Not to mention Venters here deciding to stick around despite having much better things to do than to help my scrawny ass build sh*t."

"And it has not ceased to be amusing, Little Smith." Venters quips and I shake my head as we enter the main chamber of the chantry, and there stands Canoness Egalantine. Clad in Sororitas power armor with white filigree and a crown of white roses.

"Lancebearer." Oh son of abitch."We are honored to host you here in the chantry of the Order of the White Rose." Egalantine spoke, she was standing guard over what I assumed to be Shadowlight. It was a fairly simple slab of stone but just looking on it put my neck hairs on end.

"It's been an experience, that's for sure…let's get to brass tacks, Canoness. What are we facing?" I asked and was met with a tired sigh.

"Heretics have been testing our defenses for days. The PDF are growing weary, and some are showing signs of lacking the required faith necessary for the defense of this holy ground. However," The tiredness leaves her voice and is replaced with religious fervor and I can practically see the fire in her eyes as she brings her gaze over myself and Venters. "With your arrival I'm certain the faithful will be reinvigorated. An Angel, here on Periremunda, and the Lancebearer here in the flesh. Today is truly glorious."

"Please, save the glory and celebration until we get the hell-bait off world and deal with the 'Nids. I need anyone who hasn't already been gene-tested to be tested as soon as possible. I can't afford the risk of having 'Stealer infiltrators subverting our defenses when we might have to deal with the Ruinous Powers." I dropped the bombshell, and as expected, the Canoness seethed with indignation.

"Preposterous! That is akin to questioning my own Faith!" I felt my eye twitch beneath my helm as I held her gaze behind my crimson lenses. My patience broke.

"Canoness, you decapitated two high ranking officials, one of whom was an Inquisitor. Off of a dream in which theEmperor Himselfdeclares my mission to be of vital importance, you welcome me into this temple, you acknowledge that I have in my possessionthe spear that the Emperor himself has used to kill aGod, and yet when I give you anorder. Not a suggestion, anOrder.Backed by the powers invested in me by the Emperor's most Holy Inquisition, youquestion it and bristle like a rejected schoolgirl!." I ranted, voice enhanced by Silver echoing off the walls of the chantry and down throughout the temple. Venters was standing to my right slightly behind me, backing up my words with his bulk, and I could also see Lena moving to my left to flank the Canoness.

"Do you know what the penalty is for insubordination, Canoness? I could order you shot and your own Sisters would gun you down. Happily, I might add. I've heard stories, Canoness. Of how your order will so happily turn on its allied regiments for lacking faith. How about excessive pride? Hm?" I walked slowly around the Canoness, circling her slowly, watching as Lena drew her bolt pistol and held it at a casual low ready. Lena gave me a nod, assuring me she would follow the order should I give it. I circled back around to Egalantine's front. My armor activated as I got within arms reach of her and her power sword, voice rumbling in a low growl.

"Pride. How many faithful servants of the Emperor have been brought low by pride, Egalantine of Gavarrone? How many generals so assured in their ambition have caused whole planets to be lost to the Enemy? This chantry is underMYprotection now, Egalantine. I call you by your name now because you already know what is required for your transgression. You bear the same title as I now,Repentia.Go. Perform the rites. Pray for forgiveness and for deliverance through the coming battle." The former Canoness' head was bowed, and already I could hear prayers being whispered as she walked past me. Each step was accentuated by the crash of a piece of power armor being shed and falling to the floor. A small crowd had gathered outside, Sisters of the White Rose, two of which, Egalantine's personal aides I would later find out, assisted her, and the crown of roses was replaced with the signature hood. I turned to Lena.

"Get those testsDone, Canoness Lena. I will not have this place subverted because someone was unlucky enough to have too much wine in the wrong bar!" I ordered, I pointed at two other Battle Sisters. "You, and You. Gather a squad and fortify this position. DoNottouch that Relic. It'll kill you. I want at least two heavy bolters or a melta emplacement ready to go.The hell are you all looking at? We have work to do!"

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

Days pass. The gene tests get done. We wiped out a sect of PDF that had gotten infected the evening I arrived, Venters proving himself a Salamander for sure via judicious use of a requisitioned heavy flamer. I read about Cain's adventures with Zeppelins but honestly things had gotten so far out of what I had read so many years ago I threw out any semblance of foreknowledge I may have had.

The reason? Chaos cultists. Lots of them. A concerningly large amount of chaos cultists for a place like Periremunda that'scurrently under the shadow of the warp!Oh yeah! TheBugs. I damn near lost Piotr holding off a bug assault when we were heading into the main settlement of Gavarrone to retrieve more weapons and ammunition for the chantry.

"IhateTyranids!" Piotr mutters as we burned rubber back to the chantry, Anya laying down hate with Drake as we make our way down the highway with a chimera escort.

"Everyone hates the damn 'Nids, Pete." I shoot back, bowling over a hormagaunt who tried to stop our momentum but discovered what 90 miles an hour of Ford Tough feels like.

"And he isOUTTA HERE!" Bubba calls as the head of the Tyranid got knocked into the distance. We cleaned up the scouting force, because that's the only role I could think of for a force that small coming from the 'Nids.

"Cousin is just upset that he almost lost his favorite hand, Commandant." Anya quipped through our comm-bead and I let out a laugh that earned me a gas masked glare from Piotr. Whom I nudged with my elbow playfully. The road cleared up and we had a few minutes of travel, our truck bed was laden with heavy bolter ammunition and a particularly zealous lascannon that I vowed to take with us back on the Exterminatus.

"Didn't I see the good Sister Lena limping out of your room the other day, Pete? You can afford to loseonehand, I would think." I teased him, earning a shake of his head.

"I resent these accusations,tovarisch." I let out a barking laugh as we pulled into the Chantry. Things were seeming to look up.

I was wrong.

Dear Lord in Heaven was I wrong.

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

The Arvus Lighter was waiting for us by the time we got there, I could see Venters manning the wall, giving soft spoken orders to the PDF and attending Sisters. In addition to that I spied Vail, Cain, and Jurgen all disembarking the Arvus. We all got our game faces on at that point. We disembarked Bubba and unloaded quickly. Well, I ordered Anya and Piotr to unload quickly as I ran to meet up with Vail.

"What is this I hear about you acting like a proper Inquisitor for once, David?" She asks and I let out a laugh as I shook my head in exasperation.

"I can pull out the fire and brimstone when need be, Boss. Howdy Ciaphas, Jurgen, sorry we couldn't catch up at Keesh's, things kinda went critical, to say the least." I greeted the two with a quick nod.

"You don't say…did youalsohave to shoot down a Promethium Dirigible?" Cain snarked, and I let out another laugh,

"Not yet, but I did browbeat the highest ranking Sister of the Convent into a Repentia." Our verbal sparring was cut short by Vail giving the two of us a slap on the back of the head each.

"You two can verbally fella*te each other later. When we have theincredibly dangerous relic

." Vail spoke and it was back to business. We started to make good time but we hadn't even made it to the central chamber when the alarm was raised. Venters' voice buzzed our comm-beads.

"Heretics coming in from the North and East! Secure the package Inquisitor!"He calls, and I pop my power helm onto my head, unslinging Dimitri from my shoulder and mounting his bayonet. I turned to Vail for permission.

"Your orders haven't changed, Interrogator, Hold this place until we secure Shadowlight!" She declares, and I'm off, once again hauling ass to reach the front as fast as possible. I reach the courtyard where the defense is being rallied and find Anya behind the wheel of Bubba and Patton running on a swivel.

"Where's Piotr?"I ask, earning a gesture to the walls in the direction that the sounds of lasfire is coming from.

"Supporting Lord Venters, Commandant." Okay. Not ideal. But I can work with that.

"Get me over there. You're our reinforcements, Anya. Anything gets through the main gate and you cut it in half. Patton, Bubba. You two do everything you can to help her do that and keep her head attached, got it?""You got it, Son."

"When have Ieverlet you down, Davey?"

"You broke your fuel pump four times in two months."

"You stillrememberthat?"

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

The front was what you would expect of a defensive line consisting mainly of Sisters of Battle with PDF reinforcements. Bolt Shells and lasers burn from the walls and I see a gout of napalm slag an entire Cultist Technical. There's Venters and Piotr. Thinking quickly, I pull Drake's Lynchpin used Silver's enhanced strength to haul him up the wall. Joining Venters and Piotr I levered Drake over the wall and let loose a hail of suppressing fire. At this point, I had loaded one barrel feeding 40mm frag, and the other with 40mm krak.

"Piotr, get me more belts! Venters, what are we looking at? All I see are a couple technicals and foot soldiers." I ordered, Piotr rushing behind cover to enter the AG role.

"Mortals, improvised weaponry and armor, mostly lasweaponry and autoguns, heavy calibre improvised technicals, and I purged their main heavy cannon a few moments ag-"

"

" Piotr shouted, shoving me down to the ground, and the air seemed to explode as the plasma projectile impacted the wall. "

We were lucky, a more direct shot and we would all be dead, but Piotr took the brunt, his left leg below the knee was gone, melted into steam. I let out a growl and swung back over the still glowing red wall. Another technical, this one fitted with the plasma cannon that cost my friend his leg.

"f*ck 'em up, Pa!"THU-THU-THU-THUMP!The sound of two barrels depositing twenty five grenade rounds in the span of a second rang in my ears as I grit my teeth and reduced the plasma technical and two other vehicles into bloody scrap. A voice rings through the battlefield, too loud to be natural, and tinged with a hissing cant that sets my hairs on edge and does nothing to calm my growing fury.

"There's the fury…the anger and rage. Such wonderful offerings to the Blood God, Bearer of the Corpse's Favor!"The voice calls, and our attention is drawn to a new arrival. What could only be an Astartes…a Dark Apostle, the commander of our enemies.

"TRAITOR!"Venters shouts, voice booming across the battlefield.

"I was not addressing you, cousin. I was addressing the young man with such wonderful gifts to give to the glorious Four. Tell me, Foothill, did you not think we would notice? Did you think you could wake that pitiful excuse of a God and get away with it?"The Dark Apostle spoke, and I could feel my blood boiling beneath my skin and a growl growing in the back of my throat.

"I'm thinking that you hurt one of my friends…You're going to die for that." I stated simply, earning a spray of lasbolts that hit absolutely nothing from an overeager cultist who was turned to chunks of gore by his own commander. One of the battle sisters, a sister Hospitaler, came and retrieved Piotr. Carrying him away and depositing him in Bubba's bed.

"Such confidence, such Faith, do you know who you come up against, child? I am Quor Karmain, of the Word Bearers. I've seen millenia of war, what have you seen?"Karmain the dead man spoke, and I let out another growl.

"I've been casting out demons since before you were a twinkle in your daddy's eye,

I snarled out, Silver was boosting my perception, to at least give me a chance to react if the bolter in Karmain's hand rose to my level.

"

" Silver's Voice burned in my ear, good. Something pulled my hand to the spearhead strapped to the inside of my breastplate. It was warm, no,hotlike a casing fresh from the chamber.

"Show me then, mortal! Show me what pitiful resistance you can put up before I tear your head from your shoulders!"The Word Bearer called, urging his forces forward with a war cry.

The spearhead grew red hot in my hand and I drew it out and above my head, white light radiating throughout the battlefield with a tinge of gold. I slammed the now much heavier lance into the ground by my side. The Lance of Longinus now in its full splendor, an eight foot shaft of polished ash wood tapped with a golden spearhead wreathed in fire. A boltshell impacts the haft, and is deflected without a scratch to the wood itself. I let a grin grow on my face as I hefted the spear above my head and let myself roar.

"

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

"Reinforce the supporting lines! I want every inch between the wall and their lines covered in the bodies of their fallen! " I shouted from the battlements, taking occasional shots with my .45 into the opposing forces. "I have no use for dead heroes! These traitors believe they serve something greater than themselves, greater than our fury! Show them exactly how wrong they are!"

On Graia, I was the attacking force, here I was defending. We had less options for retreat or even any really. My tactical musings were cut short by a spray of bolt shells that came too close for comfort. Venters took up Drake and sprayed the remainder of the belts into the enemy line. The shells detonated like rolling thunder, Venters tossed me Drake and drew his chainsword with one hand, his hand flamer in the other, and stepped up onto the edge of the wall.

"Into the Fires of Battle, Little Smith!"He calls, before leaping down into the fray. I'm shocked for a split second before Drake spurs me on.

"Unto the Anvil of War, Dad." The heavy bolter speaks solemnly even as I hand him to Lena, who's power armor servos whine in effort.

The Lance's fire grows in intensity, as if urging me into the Melee. My fingers tightened around the spear shaft. Silver pumped my body full of an energy that pulsed beneath my skin.

"Maximum Strength Protocol Engaged."I launched from the battlements, I could see a squad of seraphim doing the same, the world seemed to move in slow motion, the bullets, lasers and bolt shells filling the air as I began my descent with the Lance poised above my head.

"Terminal Velocity Reached. Initiating Thunderstrike Protocol"Silver announces and I land with a crash of energy amidst a small mob of cultists whilst slamming the haft of the Lance into the ground. The resulting blast is muted by Silver but I can feel the shockwave, and see the red mist around me that used to be cultists, in addition to the line of fire that spewed from the earth and split the enemy forces like the Red Sea.

"Come, you misled fools…find salvation through the only mercy I can give."I snarl out, drawing my companion from his holster. The Seraphim land and start putting in work with their flamers, I see two squads of Repentia sprinting from the chantry, led by the former Canoness and her power sword.

The battle is frantic. Darting from cover to cover in a blink of an eye, I can feel Silver pushing my body into overdrive enough to at one point I killed a cultist simply by running into him fast enough. The roar of an engine fills the air, accompanied by Bubba making a mockery of any semblance of road safety laws. Anya was driving, and Piotr, that absolutely insane bastard, is running Drake like a sewing machine whilst beingstrapped to his damned pintle, spewing heavy bolter rounds and shouting obscenities.

"Мне понравилась эта нога, вы, засранцы!"

Yeah that's understandable. His shouting was joined by both Bubba and Patton laughing like maniacs as Anya turns a carapace armored cultist wielding a chain axe into paste whilst chunking a squad of foot soldiers with .50 BMG.

I'm so glad I got that auspex synch working.

We make enough progress to join Venters, who has been spearheading his way towards Karmain. I rush forward, punting a blue horror that had spawned from one of Venters Kills, whilst spearing its twin with Longinus. Its dying scream echoes as another Daemon faces true death.

As we begin to encircle Karmain, I can get a better look at him. He wore Heresy-era filigree. Crimson armor and gray trim, mottled with daemonic scriptures and engravings. His face mirrored his gene-fathers, however instead of Lorgar's Fanfiction, his face was tattooed with worship of the four, and the sight of it sent my stomach churning. He locked eyes with me and spread his arms to gesture at the carnage around us, even as his cultists were cut down around him.

"Look,Deacon! Behold the carnage you have wrought! I declare youhypocrite!Your beliefs state 'thou shalt not kill!' Do they not?! The Blood God drinks heavily this day!" He shouts, his voice containing the fervor of a fanatic trying to rally his flock behind him. I cut him off.

"Murder." I speak, Silver amplifying my voice to cut through the sounds of battle.

"What?!"Karmain exclaims.

"The words given to Moses on Mount Sinai by the Lord of Man in the year of 1446 BC declare 'thou shall not murder.'"I speak, keeping eyes locked with the traitorous scum. His armor's machine spirit speaks to me. It tells me of battles, of victories won, of waterfalls of blood. It tells me of secrets…of Istvan V. "I won't be preached to by the likes ofyou. Who betrayed your own kin. Who sold your soul to powers that you don't fully understand. Do you know the price of your betrayal? Do you know what Hell awaits you for the crimes you've committed against your fellow man? Against the Almighty?"There's fire in my chest, indignation that isn't my own, there's a presence in the back of my mind that is becoming more and more pronounced.I feel my hand tighten around the shaft of the Lance, I can feel the heat from the flames intensify even through the armor and my mouth continues to move without my willing it, and the sound that escapes isn't my voice.

"

My gaze is is forced towards Venters.

"

—————————

Mama had brought me planetside once the initial conflict had started, sneaking aboard one of the supply shuttles.

Being sneaky was fun, until the fight started. Mama and I watched Papa leap into the field like a superhero. Mama called him an Idiot.

Mama stayed in the treeline, and we watched as Papa and Uncle Venters led the charge into towards the traitor. The thing is, Mama can't see what I see…she didn't see Grandpa take hold of Papa.

She can't hear Papa

It hurts, hearing Papa wail, anger and pain. I try to tell Mama but she can't understand. So it's up to me.

"Let Papa go, Grandpa! You're hurting him!" I'm shouting at him, that Golden silhouette smothering the Green of my Papa's Soul. Papa's body is moving. Faster than he can normally, but I can see it, I can feel his muscles tearing beneath Silver. I can hear him snarling out in pain and defiance.

"

Grandpa speaks to me, tone soft, but I don't care. He'shurting Papa. I'm pushing against the leg, I'm so small…it doesn't do much. I'm forcing my projection's hands into his legs and pushing with everything I can. Uncle Venters cuts off one of Karmain's hands, and the Repentia squad swarms him. They die. But the Canoness uses her power sword to take Karmain's other arm. I can see their souls flock to Grandpa.

"Stop hurting Papa! Listen to him! You're killing him Grandpa!" I cry slamming my fists into the leg of that Golden aura. I can feel Mama lever a round into my chamber and take aim at Karmain, who's charging Papa.

"

Grandpa snaps at me but I can't stop. Papa needs me. Grandpa keeps making the same mistakes!

"You're going to make him another Uncle Lorgar, Grandpa! Can you not seeThem?!" I shout, pushing all my worry and fear into the words. I can see them…tendrils of the Four, trying to tempt Papa, but even through the pain he's pushing them away. That gets Grandpa to hesitate, and I can see his golden aura lash at those tendrils. Karmain lunges at Papa.

Mama pulls my trigger, and I charge the round with all of my energy, crying out in rage and defiance toeveryonesurrounding my Papa.

——————-

"

"

Terentia's bolt strikes Karmain's body and tears his legs from his body. And there he lies. Limbless, immobile, glaring and spitting poison.

My world is pain. The pressure on my mind is gone, and I have control of my limbs again, but I can taste blood. Silver is relaying damage to me through the helmet's auspex. Torn muscles, sprains, I'm bleeding from my nose, ears, and eyes. The only reason I'm still standing is Silver and spite.

"Thanks baby girl…" I whisper before limping forward, using the lance as a walking stick. I'm limping like an old man, every muscle I have screaming out in protest as I poise the Lance to finish it.

"You're nothing but apawn,Deacon." Karmain snarls out, blood seeping from his lips joining the growing puddle pooling beneath him. "The Corpse-Emperor will cast you aside just as he did my gene-father!"

"I've known that since he brought me here, dumbass." I muttered, suddenly feeling the exhaustion of the fight hit me as I tightened my grip and angled the flaming spearhead at Karmain's throat. "Now shut up and

."

The lance cut through his throat, golden light flares and the fire spreads, enveloping Karmain's body and his screams are hoarse whispers forced from severed vocal chords. In moments, Karmain is Ash. And my strength fails me, I fall to my knees, tear off my helm, spit out a glob of black blood onto the ground and collapse onto my back.

My vision blurs and Venters' shout of 'Medicae!' Is drowned out by the tinnitus ringing in my ears.

"I am the righteous hand of God;
I am the Devil you Forgot.
I told you one day you will see;
I'll be back I guarantee.
That hell's coming, Hell's coming.

Hell, Hell's coming with me.

TLs:Мне понравилась эта нога, вы, засранцы
I liked that leg you assholes!

I woke up on the Exterminatus. In the medbay with a bundle of medicae fussing over me and the haze of anesthetics clouding my mind. I could hear bits and pieces of their conversation through the cloud.

"-practically swimming in adrenaline"

"Both kidneys severely damaged"

"87% of muscles on the right arm are torn through overstrain."

"Prepare the Interrogator for surgery. Yanbel, prepare the augmetics."

"Yes, Lady Inquisitor."

The world faded into darkness once more.

I would wake intermittently, things would change. The chiurgeons working, Vail overseeing things. Raya standing guard like a statue.

Once I woke in the middle of the night, finding one of the lower deck personnel in my room, a knife on the floor, and Raya holding him by his throat.

Atta Girl

"One weekof rest…you heretics can't give him…asingle weekofrest?!" She snarls, and thesnapof the would-be assassin's neck echoes through the room. She throws the corpse out into the hallway. "Deal with thistrash!"

"They got me on thosegooddrugs huh…" I mutter, voice hoarse as Raya walks over calmly to the side of the bed with a light huff.

"Enough anesthetics to makemenumb." She replies, setting into her vigil with one hand on her bolt-lance.

"Look at you, high on the job…" I snarked, I couldn't really feel anything but a cursory glance showed that I had my skin still, even if my arms were marked with surgical scars. "…what did they do to me, Raya?" My voice didn't crack you're hearing things.

"When the Emperor took action through you the stress response flooded your body with adrenaline. You were running a fever and your blood pressure spiked enough to rupture multiple blood vessels. Your body was pushed beyond the limits of mortal flesh." Raya spoke softly. I know Raya, I wasthere.

"Raya, what parts got switched out. That's all I'm asking."

"You've been fitted with an augmetic heart, lungs, kidneys and liver." Raya hesitates before continuing. "The silver carapace held your muscles and bones in place despite the tears and fractures, but the damage needed repair. Your bones have been reinforced with augmetic braces and your muscle fibers have been similarly reinforced."

I nod silently, bringing my focus inward as if that'll help me feel the changes in my body.

"Freakin dime store Afriel strain" I mutter under my breath, taking a look at the stitches and scarring.

"You're not that pale, David. And your subordinates actually like you."

"Speaking of which, how's Piotr?"

"He's been fit with an augmetic leg and has been awarded the Medallion Crimson for his actions." Raya relayed quickly, I nodded again.

"Good. What's the situation? Why am I up here instead of in the medbay of the chantry? Where's everyone?" I asked, I couldn't move much, the drugs made my limbs feel like lead.

"Commissar Cain and Gunner Ferrik Jurgen have returned to their posting with the Valhallan 597th, but they did relay their well-wishes. Piotr, Anya, Venters, and Sister Lena are aboard, but are performing duties."

"Sister Lena? What's she doing here? She should be back on Periremunda helping finish off the 'Nids." My question was met with a chuckle that I had learned meant I caused something really terrible to happen.

"The good Canoness has, with the Squadron of Seraphim that had witnessed your possession, joined the Inquisitor's retinue." Oh no, there's that sinking feeling again. "They're currently repainting their Livery. They've taken to calling themselves the Order of the Lance."

"She can't do that, she's not a Saint!" I protested. All it did was make Raya bark out a laugh of course, but I did appreciate the soft hand that ruffled my hair afterwards.

"As the ranking Ecclesiarchy official on Periremunda, having borne witness to The Emperor actingdirectlythrough you. She's claiming Divine Inspiration in the formation of this Minor Order. There hasn't been any pushback yet."

"Good Lord, she's never going to leave me alone." I groaned.

"I made itperfectly clearthat you are spoken for, David."

"Yes dear….what are we doing now? Why are we not helping with the 'Nids?"

Raya hesitates, chewing her lip in thought for a few seconds before replying.

"We've been summoned, David." She finally speaks.

"Summonedwhere, Raya."

"…Home."
-------------------------

The transit time to Earth was unknown. Especially since we had to scurry away from Periremunda using the sublight engines alongside the evacuation vessels. I was bed bound for about another three days before the drugs wore off and I was able to work.

I checked in with Piotr first. When I approached his quarters I passed a visibly disheveled Canoness Lena, but you wouldn't think anything was wrong by the smile on her face. I gave her a nod and enters Piotr's quarters to get a proper look at him.

"How you doing, Pete?" I asked, earning a scoff from the Vostroyan.

"I should be asking you that, Commandant. You got more metal in you than I do at this point." Piotr was in good spirits, and the augmetic leg he was fitted with looked fairly high quality. It was sized properly and wasn't threadbare like some I had seen from the lower deckmen. It mimicked a normal leg as close as you could with steel. I had to hold back a snort when Buddy spoke up next.

"Fullmetal Alchemist…Fullmetal Alchemist."

"Well, Piotr, I'm glad you're doing better, and that you got something positive out of this whole debacle." I spoke, leaning against his doorframe with a grin, gesturing with my head down the corridor where I passed Lena.

"I've no idea what you mean, commandant." Piotr shot back but I could see the mischievous gleam in his blue eyes. I shook my head with a chuckle and moved forward, placing a hand on his shoulder.

"Piotr, in all seriousness.Thank you. I should've never put you in a position where your pain was necessary, much less the loss of limb." I said to him, earning a shake of his head and a smile.

"I've been serving the emperor for twenty years, Commandant. It's not the first time I've taken fire for a superior officer." He spoke, waving me off. "You're not the worst CO I've had. I would've given you another year or two of being a grunt, myself, but you've done well enough with what you've been given. We got lucky this time, it's just a leg. But you've got to prepare yourself for the reality of things." He brings a hand up and pokes a finger into my chest. "In the fog of war, youwilllose men. I saw you got when I got wounded, you tensed up like you were going to jump into the fray in a mad rage,and you did not long after. That's how you get dead, маленькая кузина. Rein in that fury, even if you use it well, because if you don't, you'll get yourself, andyour meninto situations where a single casualty will turn into a self-sacrificial slaughter."

Piotr leaned back in his seat, taking a puff from a pipe I hadn't noticed until now.

"We've gotten through three deployments with no deaths. We were due a casualty as some point, and a leg is a small price to pay. Bad luck to have no losses for too long. The thing is, Commandant, as the years go on, our luck won't hold out forever. One day, one of us will go before the Emperor before you do, and you need to make your peace with that."

"The Inquisitor picked Anya and I up about seven years ago, our regiment had been in an engagement with the Tau that she was investigating, I was the acting Sergeant after Anya's father, my uncle, died. A squadron of twelve guardsmen became two by the time the Inquisitor found us. We did everything right. Stuck together, covered our angles, but a Tau Mortar strike came through. In one fell swoop, it was just us two."

Another long drag from the pipe.

"That's why Anya and I have been assigned to you, Commandant. I've failed at leading before. So we know what to look for. Believe me, Sir, when you're doing something stupid, we'll tell you."He finished with a light chuckle, giving a jaunty salute with his pipe.

"Now go on, get out of here. I'm fine, and I've had my fill of advising. I'm sure you've work to do, Quartermaster."

————————————

I reported to Vail next, which went about as well as I could've expected.

"You weren't expected to be back on your feet for another three days." Vail spoke, she was tearing through her wardrobe, and looked like there was more recaf going through her veins than blood.

"You look like hell, Inquisitor." I spoke simply, earning a glare.

"Being summoned to Holy Terra itself for an audience withthe Emperor Himselfrequires proper decorum and preparation,Interrogator. Even if I am not granted an audience before the Golden Throne, I will be representing the Ordo Xenos on Terra. To my knowledge anyhow. And if I am to hold my own against the bureaucratic warzone that is Terran Nobility, I must be prepared. As should you." She spoke calmly, taking a sip from a steaming mug before holding up some kind of Victorian-era esque dress in front of her mirror.

"The attire alone has had me without sleep for aweek. Not to mention the protocols, code words, callsigns, and so forth that I have to memorize before we even get to the segmentum solar. Soyes, I am rather stressed at the moment. It will pass. This part of the process is always the hardest. Go report to Yanbel, he'll give you a once over and a proper report on what your augmetics are capable of."

"Considering the Emperor has a Power Armor fetish you might be better off just wearing your fight suit."

"…noted."

—————————

Yanbel practically dragged me into a chair the moment I entered the room. Poked and prodded and scanned whilst Binaric Cant filled the room.

"You should not be on your feet yet, David." Yanbel finally spoke in Gothic after frantically checking me over with the auspex.

"I shouldn't have woken up with my ribcage spread open but hey I did anyway." I shot back, mildly irritated at the instant lab rat role I had been assigned. One of the adepts jabbed a needle into my neck and depressed the contents.

"A light stimulant. It'll give you some energy and kickstart the augmetic liver." Yanbel explained as I rubbed at the wound and gave a light glare at Triton, who I could swear was smiling behind the vox unit that hid his mouth.

"Thanks, by the way, for not just replacing my whole limbs." I stated, turning to face Yanbel, who gave a small bow.

"They would not be your hands, my friend." I gave him a small smile before he continued.
"Now then, as I'm sure you're aware you've been fitted with an augmetic heart, liver, lungs, and kidneys. Further reason for you to consider pilgrimage to Holy Mars whilst we're in the Sol System, I might add." He speaks, giving a tap on the forehead with one of his mechadendrites.

"The Omnissiah's presence in your flesh essentially overclocked your biological processes beyond what a normal layperson could withstand. You suffered a collapsed lung, acute liver failure, adrenaline poisoning, and a rupture in your aorta shortly after we got you into surgery. We had to move quickly to save you. Inquisitor Vail, seeing that things of this nature are likely to repeat themselves; even if they don't you've proven to have a penchant for drawing the attention of beings that tend to squish unaugmented persons, ordered you be fitted with augmetics that would enhance your capabilities more than simply replace them." As he spoke he handed me a dataslate containing the details of my injuries and the augmetics I was fitted with, which he continued to extrapolate on.

"The Augmetic Heart you've been blessed with allows for increased red blood cell production as well as being far more resilient against impacts and other disturbances in homeostasis than flesh. It is directly linked into your nervous system, as such, it requires no conscious thought to operate, unlike certain lesser models."

"Having to think about keeping my heart beating sounds terrifying…" I muttered under my breath.

"Yes, that's why being fitted with one of those hearts is a Death Sentence on certain Penal Worlds. Getting back on track, your lungs. In addition to being augmetically replaced, you've been given a third auxiliary lung."

"….you gave me three lungs."

"Venters advocated for giving you a second heart as well."

I let out a strained sigh out of my nose.

"Continue, please, before I give myself another aneurysm."

"Your new lungs are fitted with toxin filters in addition to being far more efficient in drawing in oxygen out of the environment. I would still recommend preventative measures as far as toxins go, as the filters will eventually lose efficacy if overused, and a thousand year part will lose that expected lifespan."

"Noted."

"Your liver has been replaced with a far more fuel efficient model, toxin filtration has been further enhanced, blood filtration efficiency has been increased, and of course, this model is also far more resilient than the weakness of our flesh."

"Yes, yes, 'I aspire to the purity of the blessed machine', I get it Yanbel, please let's just keep going."

"Your kidneys were replaced with furthermore resiliency upgrades in addition to being able to produce more adrenaline, as well as the ability to automatically administer painkillers and other medicine."

"…come again?"

"Your kidneys can give you drugs, David."

"Yeah that's what I thought you said…why?"

"If you are wounded away from support, having this ability would be invaluable."

"Counterpoint: Raya."

"Counterpoint: Titans."

"I still wouldn't bet against an angry Raya."

"Moving on,in addition to these, we've reinforced your skeletal structure with adamantine braces, and your muscles have been interwoven with synthetic fibers. With the further enhancements granted by the silver carapace, I'd wager you'll be able to endure more punishment than ever." Yanbel finished, finally stepping away from the makeshift operating table and allowing me to my feet. I took a moment to gather my thoughts before speaking again.

"So why aren't you in a tizzy about setting foot on the homeworld?" I asked, watching as the other adepts returned to their workstations, and walking over to my own.

"Simple: I don't have to deal with the laypeople. So I can enjoy the experience with all proper reverence."

"…Yanbel that's the first thing you've ever said to me that's actually gotten me to consider going to Mars."

————————————

It took us months of warp travel to get to Periremunda, I was expecting similar fare to get to the Segmentum Solar not to mention Terra itself. So, after checking in with everyone and doing my damnedest to avoid the new clergy of Sororitas on the ship, I got back to work on what I do best.

Actualf*ckinggunsmithing.

I was looking over a Kantrael pattern lasgun, having taken the thing apart and been poring over the data packages for a few hours at this point.

"I'd best be getting some upgrades out of this, Quartermaster." the lasgun itself had been in service for over a century, and spoke like your typical guardsman.

"Do you want to burn through Ceramite or not, Pal?" I shot back as I futzed with the contacts on his power pack receptacle. The contacts were covered in corrosion and I was cleaning it off to see if they would need replacement.

"Shutting up, Sir."

As I tinkered with the lasgun I was able to properly appreciate its design. The humble lasgun is capable of melting through flak armor and concrete and liquifying the flesh and organs underneath. The delicate internals were held deep within the chassis of the weapon, protected from impacts, allowing the average guardsman to not worry about having to use the lasgun as an improvised melee weapon. Already I was thinking about how I can upgrade it. The blocky design was iconic, yes, but its ergonomics were severely outdated.

In all honestly this weapon was giving me more trouble than anything else so far. I was a gunsmith, not an electrician, so I was leaning heavily on Yanbel's expertise.

It was a learning experience, I had done some prior research before diving into this experiment, but actually modifying was proving more difficult than expected.

"You must be careful at this point, David. Those components are very fine-tuned." Yanbel spoke, gesturing at the internal contacts.

"I know, Yanbel, but this is the major choke point…I get more amps through this resistor without compromising the heat sink…we're looking at a significant increase in heat generation. Some thicker lenses to help focus…"

"Focus, David. Your fervor is appreciated, but you would like to keep your hands flesh, yes?"

"There's no power in the circuit, Yanbel. The only way this guy should blow up is if I insult his mother." I shot back before clicking the upgraded connectors into place, I knocked out the base lenses and picked up the resized hellgun lenses to insert them into the barrel.

"You're decreasing the amount of shots you'll receive out of a standard power pack." Yanbel commented, I nodded.

"Yes, however each of those shots will hit with the same amount of authority as a full powered Hellgun. If I designed these connectors right, a flick of a switch and we should be able to reduce the power back to standard levels." I explained, using a nylon punch to set the lenses in carefully.

"I don't understand why you were so insistent on this project, Interrogator." Yanbel spoke after a moment. "We have other priorities with the summons to Holy Terra."

"I owe Piotr something more than just a 'thank you for your service' Yanbel." I spoke as the lens 'clicked' into place and the machine spirit let out an enthusiastic shout. "So I'm doing this for him. And hey, if we face more Heretic Astartes, he might kill a few."

"Fair enough of a point, I suppo-" Yanbel's statement was cut off by the unmistakable lurching that came from the ship translating from the warp into realspace.

"….its been two weeks…we can't be here already, can we?" I muttered, running out into the corridor to witness the many shutters of the ship slowly start to rise. Yanbel followed, and I could feel the familiar presence of Raya appearing at my shoulder.

"It always astounds me how unpredictable warp travel can be." Yanbel commented as the shutters finally cleared our viewpoint. And as I watched what had become of my homeworld, I felt my new heart wrench in my chest, and tears peek at the corners of my eyes.

"….its sobrown…it's supposed to be blue, damn it."

My voice didnotbreak. You're hearing sh*t.

(Note from Lady Custodian Raya: it did.)

Summary:

Another Combination Chapter consisting of 2 chapters spliced together

The Arvus Lighter touched down on a private landing pad within the Lion's Gate spaceport, Raya had taken control of said Lighter for this excursion, and for once was in full regalia. Full plate of Auramite power armor with her helm sealed shut over her face.

"Always wanted to come to the Himalayas…just didn't expect it to be like this." I noted, earning a raised eyebrow from Vail, who was also in full Inquisitorial Regalia. Her greatcoat was wrinkle free and a number of medals adorned her chest, the centerpiece of this being the Inquisitorial Rosette hanging from her neck.

"Summoned to the highest authority that the human race is beholden to?" Vail asked, and I shook my head.

"I expected to be shivering my ass off or being hounded by barkers trying to get the tourist to buy something."

"You weren't born on this continent, correct?" Vail asked, I simply nodded in reply.

"North America. Used to be a whole ocean between here and there, now it's just desert…I hate this Millennium." I let out a deep sigh. Shaking the growing red haze from behind my eyes. f*ck off Khorne.

We landed and were immediately heralded by a number of Vox-Skulls.

"Is this thing on…? Yes? Okay.BEHOLD! Our wayward sister has returned! In her

custody is none other than….whats her name?Inquisitor Amberley Vail of the Ordo Xenos! Retriever of Relics and the most competent of the bunch."Oh good god above I know that voice. Karstodes….if he's here that means the other two of the Trio of the Oiled Abs are around. Oh god he's talking about me now.

"And finally we have Raya's Ball-and-Chain, the Gun-Whisperer,the cause of half of my problems recently,the Waker of a Dead God, the

!"Oh joy the two others joined in.

"Raya, drag their mortal behinds to the Sanctum Imperialis. That'll be all."The vox cut off and the skulls flew off, leaving us surrounded by staring serfs, statuesque custodians, and a concerning amount of tech adepts. I turned to face Raya.

"Would you be offended if I stab your brother?" I asked, and she held Vigil out as if to offer her to me.

"Please. He's insufferable at thebestof times."
————————————

The closer we got to the Sanctum Imperialis the less attention we garnered. Raya escorted us and we were marching fairly briskly to get there. I could see more and more Custodians the closer we got, the golden sentinels standing like statues, and the endless sea of red that was the mechanicus adepts at work. The closer we got to that damned pyramid I could feel a twisted feeling in my gut.

Nerves, as well as something else. Anticipation? Likely yes.

And fury. Anger, frustration, and grief. Enough that I felt my hands clench into fists as we walked. The march was silent. No words needed to be said. No. I was saving them for that bastard on the Golden Throne.

"Hold, there." A voice calls. Soft-spoken but still loud enough to carry a voice of command. A figure approaches us, large, clad in the golden auramite of the Adeptus Costodes. Raya drops to a knee, planting the shaft of her spear into the ground in a salute.

"Captain-General, Sir!" She speaks, head bowed in a respectful greeting, I take off my hat and give a bow of greeting myself. He's been pleasant enough so far, and I was curious if this Captain-General was also mirroring his feline inclined counterpart.

"Lictor Raya, I see you've brought your charge before us, as summoned. I am to assume you are Foothill then, and you are Inquisitor Vail?" The Captain-General speaks, he's clad head to toe in the traditional armor of his station, helm secured firmly in place, and he speaks eloquently. His voice matched his text-to-speech counterpart, but I couldn't rely on that to determine his personality.

Vail spoke first.

"It is a tremendous honor beyond words to be summoned here today, m'lord Custodes." She spoke giving a formal bow. The helm of the Captain-General shifted to gaze upon us.

"Lady Inquisitor, it is a genuine pleasure to meet you, however, I regret to inform you that you will not be able to accompany your apprentice into the Emperor's Throneroom. However, rest assured I will return him to you unharmed." The golden giant spoke. A gentle one, it seemed. Vail gave another courteous bow as the Captain-General turned back to Raya. "Lictor Raya, feel free to escort the Inquisitor around the Palace as I take your Betrothed into the throne room." The man then finally turned to me, and the teasing lilt in his voice vanished. Replaced with solemnity.

"David James Foothill…he's waiting. Has been for a long time, longer than you realize. Come, best not to keep him waiting for much longer." He speaks, and it feels like I'm talking with my brothers, about to deal with my dad when his temper flared. I simply nod, and I break away from Raya and Vail.

The Captain-General and I walk in relative silence. The reality, theweightof the situation hitting my gut with every step. I'm weaponless, and I feel my fingers itching to wrap around my pistol already. I shake off the sensation as I witness the massive doors, ornate and engraved with the Aquilla open. The two Contemptor-Galatus Dreadnaughts are ever vigilant in their guard. As I feel their gaze on me, I realize that with an errant twitch I would be a smear on one of those massive shields. I continue forward anyway. I know what I signed up for when I joined Vail's retinue.

—————————

David James Foothill enters the throne room hesitantly. Eyes darting around and taking in every detail. He seems almost diminutive, stood next to the Captain General, yet he keeps his back straight as he marches forward, eyes locking onto the centerpiece of the room.

The Golden Throne and its one Inhabitant.

The Emperor of Mankind, Revelation, he who conquered the Earth with steel and fire. His presence fills the room like a miasma, a weight settling on David's shoulders that compels him tokneel. Yet he doesn't. He's too much in shock for the compulsion to register in his mind, as the Emperor is no mere skeleton on the throne.

He is a man. An old man, skin gaunt and pale, with dark hair draping over his shoulders, and eyes glowing gold. He is emaciated, withered, and exhausted, but he is there. On the throne,breathing.

"How?!" David chokes out through gritted teeth. A fury growing in his chest at the revelation. This tyrant didn't deserve this, this man, who had murderedtrillions. The red haze fills David's mind until someone places a hand on his shoulder.

"Calm yourself, my son. Your father struggled with the rage of the Bloody One as well, but you saw him overcome it. Turn the other cheek, do not decry someone whomIchose to heal." The words shock David from his stupor, and his eyes are drawn to the Speaker. He takes in the white robes, the scarred hands, and the eyes filled with naught but kindness even through the stern glare. Like a parent admonishing a child.

"Joshua decided that I needed vocal cords whilst you were giving your theology lesson on Periremunda."The Emperor speaks for the first time in this encounter. Leaning forward, and the sound of his skin shifting over old bones fills the area.

"It's high time we had a talk, Dave."

"What,exactly,do you want to talk about, Old Man?" I asked, no, not asked. That gives the impression that there was a sense of propriety in the words. I snarled them out in a barely restrained snarl. "You pull me from my home, I have to bloody my hands, you tell me to act, I act, and now here I am, almost two years in. The few things I've changed, in the wider scale of this caricature of a functioning galaxy, meanjack diddly

I snarled out at the emaciated form on the Golden Throne. I take a deep breath to try and calm myself, but being here, beinghomeis getting to me. Seeing what has become of this place and the atrocities that plague it.

"You get that off your chest, Kid?"

"Motherfuc-"

"

" The withered Emperor's eyes pulse with that golden glow and my mouth snaps shut as I'm forced to compose myself. My Savior's hand on my shoulder is the only thing keeping me from being forced to my knees like Lorgar was so many years ago.

"Interrogator, I had resigned myself to eternal internment on this accursed Throne."The Emperor speaks, and his voice holds the strength that conquered a million worlds. "For ten thousand years, I have languished on this damned chair. Forced to act as a Deity that I am

."He gives a pointed glare at Christ, who is giving him a grin filled with the mischief of an older sibling teasing their younger.

"For ten thousand years, I felt my bones ache, decay, and my flesh slowly rot. Yet in the two years since I have brought you here, I have flesh once more. My strength is not as it was…I will need to recover over time, and remain on this throne to do my duty for my subjects, but I am no longer

. For this…I wholeheartedly say;"The Emperor leans forward, and his hair moves out of the way of his face, allowing me to see his features, gaunt yes, but I can see the brown behind the gold of his eyes, the sharp jaw and features of an old king who had seen too much for too long.

"Thank you, David. And

, for making my job this much more difficult."The Man collapses back into the chair with a heavy sigh that echoes throughout the room.

"You really kicked the hornet's nest with this, Dave. Nurgle's pissed that I'm not rotting away on this thing, Tzeench is pissed because you shat on six of his plans so far, Slaanesh is pissed you haven't gone the harem route, and Khorne is pissed because he's Khorne."He brings a hand up to rub at his forehead, he seems hesitant, as if remembering how to do so for a moment before continuing the motion. I see the ghost of a smile on his lips as he enjoys the sensation of feeling something other than pain.

"I was gonna piss them off when I punched a hole in their golden boy Abbadon's face anyway." I snarked, earning a chuckle, achucklefrom the Emperor.

"Love the attitude, wanna help you make it happen, but we have more immediate concerns. I can't pull your strings like a marionette every time you face one of my grandkids."

"Stilllividabout you doing that, by the way."

"You'd be dead if I didn't."

"I diedagain,anyway!" I snapped, and the Carpenter spoke up for the first time in this interaction.

"It wasn't your time yet, my son." He says, and I find myself calmed once more. "You areexactlywhere you need to be right now, child."

"Joshua, no sermons in my house."

"It's my Mountain, Longinus."

"I changed your diapers. My house. David, I stopped dealing with crying children millenia ago.Your kid is a rifle and she still managed it.I don't want to deal with that again, so you need to get your ass in gear."The Emperor spoke, and I felt a smirk grow on my face.

"Heh, Emperor of Mankind, cowed by a nine month old baby."

"...Let the record show that David James Foothill just added a thousand years to his sentencing."

-1000 Years added to sentence of Legios Repentia David James Foothill, Charge: Cheek.-

"Motherf*cker…well what do you have in mind,Boss?We've got five years until Cain has to deal with his uppity schoolmate. I figure you want me there since you've been having me follow the poor guy so far." I let out a huff before the Emperor nods his head and speaks.

"Simple: You're going treasure hunting. I'm giving you a year. I want you to pull as many relics and weapons as you can out of your ass, then…you're going to Mars."

"...I'd rather not."

"Too bad, The Omnissiah decrees that David James Foothill will undergo his pilgrimage in one terran year's time. Captain-General, make sure the notarization goes through."I really didn't like that mean grin on the Emperor's face. I turned to face Christ, who simply smiles and nods.
"You're going where you need to go, my son."

Welp…there goes any chance I have of weaseling out of it with a clean conscience. I let out a deep sigh, scratching the back of my head before straightening up and turning back to the Emperor.

"Screw it, why not. You need me to Indiana Jones some stuff, fine. I got a motley crew of folks willing to help me out. You need me to go to Mars, Fine. I'll Matt Damon that sh*t. It's not like I have a choice in the matter." I muttered out, turning towards the Captain General to leave.

"One more thing, David."The Emperor spoke, dangummit I don't like that mischief in his voice.

"What, Boss?" I sighed out before a wave of pressure slammed into me like a freight train and I'm forced onto the ground. My knees buckle and I feel a heat spread through my skull.

"Get that chip off your shoulder,

. If not for me your soul would be Khorne's plaything a dozen times over. This is

, and terrible things must be done to ensure our species' continuedexistence."The genial façade is ripped away and I can feel that burning gold gaze on me. I snarled curses into the stone floor for a few moments before the pressure abated and the Captain-General began to guide me out of the Throne Room. As the massive gates began to shut I could just barely hear the voice of my Savior speaking to the Emperor.

"You demand much of him, Longinus."

"I cannot afford to coddle him, Joshua. The time for mercy has passed."

"We must agree to disagree on that, Old Friend." And the gates seal shut.

As the gates seal shut and I'm escorted back to the Arvus Lighter I notice that the other Custodians are following the two of us with their eyes, that the Tech Adepts are watching me intently even as they continue their work. The Captain-General guided most of the way there until I could see Raya and Vail waiting at the transport, He gestured with his spear towards them.

"I would recommend staying within the Sol System for this year, Interrogator. I wish you luck, and I think the new hair suits you well enough."

…….Wait

"EMPEROR DAMN-ITFOOTHILL!"

We returned to the Imperial Palace with haste. I will admit to having a childish grin on my face at having another keepsake from home back in my possession, but Vail kept us mostly on task. Mostly.

"Look, there's an Imperial Fist Centurion around here that is suspiciously large and hasn't spoken a word in nearly ten millennia. There can't be more than a few people in this palace that match that description, Karstodes." Raya was arguing with her brother, who, unfortunately, was indeed refusing to wear his armor save for his helmet.

"So many words, yet none of them explain why I shouldcare, Raya." The companion spoke, and I could see his two brothers in Swole perched like gargoyles on some of the elevated stonework.

"Because I will set you onfireif you don't help out! Not to mention I'll tell Father about what you three did toSantodes' Dreadnought!" Oh that got them moving.

"You wouldn'tdare." Wamuudes spoke after dropping down to ground level. Raya simply tapped her spear shaft on the ground.

"I havecenturiesof dirt on you three Hedonists. I've kept my mouth shut because you're my brothers and I love you three idiots, but that doesn't mean I won't light a fire under your asses when things need to get done.

?!" Raya shouted at the three, doing her best impression of a drill sergeant with their kill hat on full display.

"

" Damn do those three consciously try to stay in synch or are they like my brothers who did it unconsciously. Oop Raya's yelling again.

"Then get your oily asses moving! I want that Primarch found

!" She shouted, and the three culprits launched away. I felt my eyes drift to the floor where they were standing.

"Good God they've left a puddle of oil on the floor where they stood." I muttered, earning a heavy forlorn sigh from Raya and a nod of her head.

"Yes, they do that. But they're family, and as much as they deserve a serious wake-up call, they're useful. If anyone can at the very leastannoya primarch into revealing themselves its those three."

—————————

Y'know. With how often I'd been spitting in Murphy's eye, I would've known better than to think I was safe in my own bloody homeworld.

The Sanctum Imperialis really is a massive structure. Spanning endless miles under the surface of Everest. I'm not sure when orhowI got separated from Raya, but I did find myself alone in the massive halls, and quite terribly turned around.

"…sh*t." I muttered, looking around at the corridor around me. It was suspiciously empty. Nary a custodian in sight. I turned on my heel to try and go back the way I came to come face to helm with a Sister of Silence. She pointed over my shoulder further down the tunnel.

"Are we doing some mafioso bullsh*t now?" I grumbled, earning an aggressively fingerspelled 'G-O' for my trouble.

"Fine, I'm going I'm going." I responded curtly, signing 'rude' as I turned.

'Bitch.' She signed, then shoved me further down the corridor.

As I walked the Sister seemed to vanish until I was once again on my own in the maze-like corridors of the Sanctum Imperialis. Twenty, maybe thirty minutes of walking, and getting shoved whenever I stopped to look around. Eventually, while I'm still in a corridor, I can hear and feel the air shift as something massive moves behind me. Nary a footstep even as I have to lean backward to look into the eye lenses of the Centurion.

"…how in the Hell do you managestealthintwelvetonsof Ceramite, M'lord Dorn?"

"I am very quiet."A massive hand reaches up and removes the power helm, revealing a clean shaven face and grayed hair perfectly maintained within regulations.

There was a certain presence to the Primarch. An air of authority and power. Strength and intelligence.

"Your spacial awareness needs improvement, you are slow, you are not using the Silver Carapace to the best of its capabilities, and…you aresquishy." The Primarch speaks, and I feel my pride sting a bit. But I know his criticisms ring true.

"You sent the companions to find me. They failed. The Shield-Captain failed to not get led away by the Silent Sisters. She failed. You offered no resistance to the Silent Sister. You did not find me. I found you. I gave you multiple chances to discern my presence. I overestimated your capabilities. I would think that someone who was summoned to Holy Terra for an Audience with my Father's Bones would be more…capable." Deadpan delivery, not so much as a blink or a second to breathe between sentences. I stepped back a bit as to not have to tilt my head as much and he followed me, not allowing me additional distance.

I cleared my throat and began to speak, suddenly all the more aware that this being could reduce me to paste in a tenth of a second.

"I do what I can…and strive to be a little better each day. Sometimes I fail at that, I'll admit. But my purpose in looking for you was not to simply do so. The way you phrased my summons to the Golden Throne tells me you haven't been in the Throne Room recently. Not in the last four weeks at least." Not a f*cking twitch in those eyes. No glint of intrigue or even a blink.

"No."

"I would recommend reporting in, my lord. You've been AWOL for almost nine millennia, and with the Emperor having regained his vocal cords, you're welcome, by the way, I'm sure he has orders for you." Finally some reaction. He blinked, and his natural resting frown quirked just a hair further downward.

"If you are lying to me. I will remove your liver with my hands." Dorn Spoke, before stepping to one side and directing me back towards the way I came. "Walk."

And so I walked. I walked with the Primarch of the Imperial Fists following me, his helm back in place to conceal his face. It must've been a comical sight, seeing a barely six foot human being followed by a massive nearly 20 foot tall walking tank. As we were making our way to the throne room we were approached by the three Companions.

"Ah, Foothill, I see you've found our wayward Pri-" Wamuudes began to speak, and I cut him off hurriedly and with all the bravado and anger I could muster.

"You keep yourdaggummouthshut, the three of you! He found me, and made it perfectly clear that I'm not up to standards yet. He has his reasons for keeping quiet, so you three shouldrespectthat. And if you don't, well. I believe your sister is standing right behind the three of you." Y'know. I never really noticed how tall Raya was in her armor until I saw her positivelyLoomover the three Pillarstodes like my mother when she found out I got a B.

"While ninety percent of the Palace ignores whatever comes out of your mouths, that remaining Ten Percent can be troublesome to our ongoing operations. So do as the hubby says, andkeep your ab-licking mouths

Raya growled out, a hand on the shoulder of Wamuudes and Custodisi, essentially squishing Karstodes with his brothers.

"You would know something about Ab-Licking, wouldn't you Ray-"

"

!" I don't think she realized she said it, myself, but the three Oligarchs of Oil caught some air and a decent amount of distance.

"You can silence me but you can't silence the truth!"Wamuudes, I believe, called before there was a distant crash of something fleshy hitting a wall.

"Impressive distance, but your accuracy requires refinement, Shield Captain."Dorn spoke, leading Raya to give a nod, her body languagescreamingfluster.

"Thank you, M'lord. Shall we continue to the Throne Room?"

"Yes."

The Captain General must not have expected us back so soon, as his head tilted like a curious puppy when we approached.

"Interrogator, Lictor, you've brought company I see." He speaks, and I find my patience waning.

"Lord Rogal Dorn found us. Told me I can't do my duty worth spit, now we're here so he doesn't perform surgery on me with his hands because he hasn't seen his dad since the rejuvenation. Let me in,please.I like my new liver where it is,where I can't see it."

"….go on in."

The reunion of Primarch and Emperor was…underwhelming, to be honest.

"I was wondering why we haven't had more incursions here. Now I know why." The Emperor spoke, his emaciated form shifting on the Throne to get a better look at his son.

"I have been fortifying the Imperial Palace against the Ruinous Powers with the assistance of the Silent Sisters, Father. We have been quite effective." Dorn spoke, "you have regained some of your flesh. I no longer have to remove the Interrogator's liver."

"Oh thank you, Jesus." I muttered in relief, earning a bark of laughter from said Savior who was carving something in the corner of the room. With a quick bow, I began inching my way towards the door. "If I may take my leave, I'm going to get out of here before I get any more surprise alterations to my body."

I booked it out of there when I saw that glint of mischief in the Emperor's eye.f*ck that sh*t.

"Bitch I will open your third eye out of

!" I heard as the Captain-General urged the gates shut. The Captain-General's faceplate turned to me slowly.

"I think he likes you, Interrogator." I swear I couldheara damn smirk under his helm.

———————————

How the hell did I manage to get separated from Rayaagain?!

How thehelldid I manage to getoutside?!There was something warpy going on I swear it. I will admit, however, that I did enjoy the view of the Massive city-scape that was the Imperial Palace.

For about ten seconds.

"Behind you,lyubim! (Beloved)" Victoria called, and I was too damn slow to do anything but curse.

I felt a shift in the air and a pair of mancatchers snap around my neck and I'm dragged into darkness by a pair of chittering hunchbacks laughing in hissing voices. Skaven.They're not supposed to be here!

"The plague father wants the time jumper! To the skittergate!"Ohf*ck That. I dug my heels in and fought like hell. Even enhanced as I was the f*cking ratmen dragged me at a speed enough that the world blurred around me. It wasn't until the smooth pathways turned to rough rock that I managed to get enough footing to take hold of one of the mancatchers and ripped it out of the damned thing's hands. It was enough to startle the other to a stop, and the fight began in earnest.

Without the additional protection of Silver's helm, I was restricted to the baseline enhancement offered by the Carapace. It was enough to break the mancatchers around my neck now that I had my feet properly under me. One of the Skaven began chanting and his eyes glowed a sickly green. I lunged and launched an uppercut into his chin with as much force and power I could muster.

I could feel the augmetic fibers in my muscle pulse like the pistons of an engine firing as my fist contacted his chin, slamming his jaw shut with enough force to turn it into bone fragments that scattered upwards into his brain like buckshot. Whatever power he was gathering fizzled out in green sparks as his brain splattered against the wall.

The other Skaven lunged, lashing at me with teeth and a knife the length of my forearm. I blocked and grappled with the damn thing. It's beady red eyes and gnashing teeth near glowing in the darkness. His knife sparked off the Carapace and lit up the cave. He was stronger than the average human, and I could feel the impact of his strikes bouncing against the armor, bruising the flesh beneath. I caught his wrist and his teeth latched around my own wrist. With my other hand I grabbed hold of his jaw andwrenched.

The tendons of his jaw tore and like Samson of old I beat his skull in with his own Jawbone. I swung, growling and cursing in every language I knew until I was pounding wet chunks of bone into the floor.

Panting, exhausted, and covered in blood and offal, I took a proper look at my surroundings and found that I couldn't seesh*t. But I could hear water, and smell something awful terrible. As I settled up against the wall to catch my breath, I felt the realization dawn on me. And Ihatedit.

"Sewer Count: Too f*cken Many." I muttered, unslinging Victoria from my shoulder and running her action. Rough and Gritty from Time and Neglect. I would have preferred to give her something more proper to drink, but the skaven's blood was greasy enough that it should work enough for now. "You think you're gonna be able to fight with this, Vicky?" I asked, applying some of the morbid grease to the rails of her action and bolt, whispering prayers of forgiveness and protection.

"I spentEonsin that bunker, David. I refuted the Plague Father for Thirty-Eight Thousand years, I will continue to refute him now. Now shut up and lube me up, Darling. And pray that the ammunition from the shuttle is as stubborn as I am." Victoria declared, and I racked her now butter smooth action into battery, who's sound echoed down the dampened tunnels.

"Let's just hope I find us a way out of this sh*thole…f*ck I wish Raya were here."

———————————

"We've got thirty-one rounds of ammunition. No Power, Strength, or Armor protocols, I can barely see, we've got God Knows how many Skaven down here with us, my vox-bead isn't working, and there's a goddamn skittergate around here somewhere. If we find that thing we're going to have to take care of it somehow.Withoutopening a chaos incursion in the process, and figure out how to exterminate the rats before they get a foothold, if they haven't already." I muttered, standing up and setting into a low ready. "f*ck it. Why not? Not like I haven't done anything less crazy since I've gotten here. No support, No resupply I can trust not to give my gun Uber Herpes, no wife, no team. Just me and my rifle."

"More than enough,lyubim,I assure you." Vicky, ever supportive, chirped.

I walked slowly. Head twitching at every noise and movement. I prayed that I would find a way out before I found the Skaven. Or the Skaven found me.

As I walked, my eyes adjusted and I could see more of the sewer system I found myself in. It was massive, obviously, but it was obvious that it had fallen out of repair. Instead of solid walkways on the sides of the greywater flow it was akin to a stream flowing in a cave that almost seemed natural. Issue is, I could see the telltale signs of the Ratmen. Patches of blood and fur from some of their constant squabbling, the sigil of the Horned Rat, and y'know, the Skaven gunner spinning up his damn gatling-gun at the end of the corridor.

I snapped Vicky up and launched two rounds into him. Her muzzle brake fills the corridor and the concussion blasts my hair back. The light allows me to see more of the Skaven's buddies poking out of the side tunnels and gathering weapons.

sh*t.

Thirty rounds goes quick when you're double or triple tapping to make sure giant bipedal ratsstay down you f*ckers!-

.

"f*ck!" I snarled out, utilizing Vicky's buttstock to crack the skull of a lunging Skaven. "f*ck you! I'll tear you apart with my bare hands if I have to!" I stomped down on the head of the skaven Vicky knocked to the ground with a chunkycrunch.

Melee now. A club snaps against my arm and I catch a claw swipe that almost took my ear, but rent three lines aross the side of my scalp. I threw him at his compatriot with an angry snarl and a follow up smash with Vicky's stock for each of the two grounded rats.

Another skaven jumped on my back and tried to stab at my throat, I tried to throw him off but he wrapped his damn tail around my throat.

So, channeling my inner Angron, with a choked roar I grabbed the tail in one hand, pinned the ratman with my boot, and ripped that f*cker's tail off. I then proceeded to strangle him with it.

I will admit that I was rather angry at this point, and having to get into fisticuffs with these furry diseasedbastardspoked a nerve that only violence could soothe.

The Red Haze faded with thesnapof the Skaven's neck. Once more, I was left covered in blood, exhausted, and frustrated.

Why? Because I could hear that Goddamned Skittergate further down the line.

"I hate this Millenium, Victoria."

"Agreed."

So, I really didn't want to have to solo a skittergate. Even more so without any ammunition. Still I didn't have a choice in the matter.

"You're going to have to fight like old Brown taught you, David." Vicky spoke, a bit of remorse in her tone at not being able to be of use.

"Brown had an MP5 and a SWAT team to back him up. I gotta fight like my Daddy." I muttered, earning a scoff from Vicky.

"Tournament fighting won't do us much good, Darling."

"That ain't what I'm saying, Vicky." I sighed, slinging her onto my shoulder. "Pop won all those tourneys sure. But that's 'cause he foughtmean. So, I gotta be the meanest son of a bitch in these tunnels for the next hour or so." As I spoke I cracked my neck and shook off the remains of fur and offal from my hands. Started psyching myself up, freaking hate rats as is, these giant things made it easy to get angry, I felt the adrenaline response surge, my new heart beat faster, and I felt my arms and legs tense.

Something is causing that Red Haze to come up faster, I shake it away and settle into a low stance. Going berserk won't help anything. I just need the adrenaline. C'mon you newfangled kidneys do your job. There was a sound like gas escaping a CO2 cartridge and I found a spark of unnaturalragesurge through me and a heat spread through my veins like liquid fire.

God

Yanbel! I sucked in a hissing breath between my teeth as my hands shook and energy coursed through my veins. f*ck it. Pins and needles and that liquid fire feeling spread until I couldn't do anything butrun. I ran like hell. Whatever drug my kidneys hit me with allowed me to see better, and run just that bit faster.

There was a sentry on a turnoff that led to the sound of warp f*ckery and green light. I hit him with Vicky's buttstock so hard the top half of his head ripped away.

Thirty seconds. Thirty seconds is how long that dose lasted before my hands stopped shaking and the fire in my veins cooled. During that thirty seconds, hell broke loose. Vicky is screaming obscenities in Bulgarian, I'm throwing Skaven at other Skaven. I swear that I caught a spear that was thrown at me and threw it back at one of 'em, pinning him to the wall like a morbid gargoyle. The light from the Skittergate was growing brighter now. Bright and Eerie, it bathed the tunnels in a baleful green glow. My head is throbbing, but my hands aren't shaking and I could begin to actually make sense of the actions I was taking. As well as feel the bruises forming from where the Skaven had managed to hit, but the Carapace held.

The bruises tell me I was hit in my lower right abdomen, my right shoulder, and the small of my back. The three scratches on the side of my skull are now joined by a myriad of small cuts that bleed and sting like hell. My hands hurt. My knuckles are bruised to sh*t. My clothes are torn to rags, except for the Carapace.

Man am I glad I left my hat on the ship.

I could properly see the Skittergate now. It was suspended in the center of the cavern with massive chains and was wide enough to fit a small vehicle through. A wooden rope bridge led to the center of it. There was a squad of the ratmen standing guard, and a Stormvermin officer. I could hear their chittering.

"The man-kin is here, Sir! We smell the blood of the other clankin. We must flush out the time-jumper!"One of the smaller ratkin pleaded with the Stormvermin, who backhanded the clankin. The Stormvermin wore red armor and wielded a large spear with what looked like a ceramite head.

"He will come to us! There is no advantage in thinning our horde even more, the warlock has yet to return, so the gate will remain dormant. We are on our own, but we outnumber the man-kin eight to one. When he comes here. We will kill him, and eat well. The plague father only needs his soul, not his body."The Stormvermin straightened up and tapped the shaft of his spear on the ground. "You hear me, Man-kin?! We will feast on your flesh! I will fornicate with your eye socket!"

Before or after you drink wine from it? Urk, bad image. Did Slaanesh get a hold of the Skaven too? With how many of them there are I wouldn't doubt it.

Still, I wasn't rabid anymore, and I was able to be quiet. Eight of 'em. Supposedly. I could only see six, but the other two could be around. I figured I was covered in enough gore to hide my scent, so I stayed in the shadows.

I tried to inch my way towards the left side of the cavern, so as to scramble my way up to the anchor point of the gate. If I could snap a link, or loosen the anchor, it would crash to the ground, God willing it would shatter on impact.

I low-crawled amidst the dirt against the far wall. Keeping one eye on the six ratmen I could see and my head on a swivel for the other two that the Stormvermin mentioned. I found one of them. Grabbed him before he could alert the others and-

-

Okay I need to learn my strength more with these new muscles I just wanted to break his neck, not tear the damn thing off. Khorne has enough damn skulls. I let out a silent sigh before continuing my movement. At least there's only seven of them now.

I was halfway up the chain when the other hidden Skaven lunged at my back, screeching bloody murder. I landed a kick on his chest that sent him back to the ground with a bone crackingcrunch. While this may be satisfying to some it exposed my position, and I had to enter a climb off againstrats.Rats. Climb up your wall and make a nest in your ceilingRats!

The first one to catch me was the Stormvermin, cackling like Rakel when she would get into the Amasec and swinging that spear at me with glee. I caught the shaft of the spear and slammed my foot into his helmeted muzzle about five times.

"I. f*cken. Hate.RATS!" I snarled out with each strike, the final one getting him to relinquish the spear to me entirely. A boon for sure, if two others hadn't jumped at me in that time. They dragged me off of the chain and we went crashing to the floor, one of them got himself skewered in the fall, but I still had to wrestle the other. Not to mention the other four.

I booted the clankin off of my chest but not without getting my head snapped to one side due to the swing of a crude club strike that sent my ears ringing. I staggered my way to my feet and got my fists back up with a snarl.

"Come on then! I'll take you all on!" I shouted, sending a right cross into the Stormvermin's jaw. It staggered him, but one of his buddies managed to circle around me and stab me in the side, must've been a ceramite knife.

It was a lancing pain that spurred another spike in adrenaline that I utilized to its fullest. I took hold of the stabby Ratkin and hurled him at his brothers. I intercepted another clankin lunging at me and I utilized the oldest and most storied of human weaponry.

A big f*cking rock.

I slammed his head into one of the larger rocks sticking out of the ground until I saw brains.

Three left.

"On your six, David!" Thank you Vicky. I whirled back with a spinning wheel kick that ripped the head off of another lunging clankin.

Two left, Stabby and Stormvermin. I spit out a wad of blood onto the dirt and settle into a fighting stance once more.

"I am going to shove your head," I declare, pointing at the Stormvermin, "Up his ass." I pointed at stabby.

"And I am going to f*ck your skull."Okay, he dies first.

Easier said than done, Stabby is the simple objective, I get a hitsquareon his temple. He goes to the ground out cold in half a second.

The Stormvermin, however, was tricky. He was skilled, and his claws tore a line across my forehead and one nearly took my left eye. He uses his tail like a whip, he tries to bite at my neck, I block as much as I can, eventually I catch his wrist in a grip that he can't worm his way out of. My other hand lunges forward and grasps him by his throat. I can see fear finally set into his beady little eyes.

"I made a promise to you, Ratkin." I growl out. "Andthou shalt not lie."

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

I'm bleeding, exhausted, and there's a knife sticking out of the side of my body. I slump against the wall of the cavern. This skittergate has got to just be a scouting post. Less than thirty Skaven, not even an advance force. How the hell was I going to take this thing down. Now that the adrenaline had worn off, the pain was getting worse, and I was getting worried about poison. Not to mention the countless diseases that the Ratkin could've transferred through the knife and their claws. God knows how many bugs Skull-f*cker the Stormvermin had. My musings were cut short by the welcome vibration of my comm-bead in my ear, must've been high enough that signal could finally reach.

"David where the bloody hell are you?!"Vail asks, and I spit out a wad of blood before responding, triple tapping my comm-bead to give off the SOS beacon.

"We have a pest problem underneath the Palace. I dealt with most of it. But I amseverelyunder equipped to destroy the nest. Also, I got stabbed." I reported, finally letting myself relax a little bit.

"...We're receiving your beacon, and we're en route. Stay put, David. I'll be sure to bring along some fireworks."

"

"Venters' Personal Stash."

"

I was furloughed onto the Exterminatus for surgery, so I wasn't present for the absolute scouring of the tunnels for any further Skaven presence. Judging by the absolutelylividlook on Raya's face when they found me, I figured things would be well in hand.

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

-Audio taken from Adeptus Custodes Operation Pest Control, M41-

"TAKE

HUSBAND?! NEST IN

HOUSE?! KILL THEM ALL!"

"It was just a mortal, Ray-"

"SHUT UP AND PURGE THE ALIENS, KARSTODES!"

-Further audio of Lady Custodian Raya's counter offensive against the Skaven enclave on Terra censored for excessive violence by order of Lady Inquisitor Amberley Vail.-

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

The medicae cleared me after a two hour surgery. I was doped to the gills with painkillers and antibiotics to keep any diseases that the skaven may have infected me with. I wasn't worried after a particularly warm breeze that hit me after a prayer requesting healing, in a sealed room.

I was able to attend to Vicky properly at this point, and I am glad I did.

"MyLord, I put you through the wringer, didn't I?" I muttered under my breath, disassembling Victoria into her main pieces. Dust cover, Telescoping Recoil Spring, Gas Piston, Bolt Carrier and Gas tube. She was covered in Skaven blood and grease, and I could see spots of surface rust and carbon fouling.

"It's not your fault, Darling. We worked with what was available, but I would appreciate a proper cleaning and oiling." She responded, and I could hear a sheepish smile in her tone.

"No worries."

Victoria is a Bulgarian SAM-5, a milled receiver AK-74, she's chambered in 5.56 x 45mm NATO, she's fitted with a JMAC Customs 4 port Compensator, an aluminum MMS MLOK Handguard fit with a stubby vertical grip, and a fixed stock that I had kept factory. I appreciated that fact, because if I had gone with the skeletonized or folding options, with how hard I had smacked those Skaven with it, I would've snapped anything not rock solid.

When cleaning a firearm, you ideally have enough time and equipment to go over every piece individually. I went over each of her pieces with a dry rag first to get the excess blood and offal off. After that I soaked the loose pieces in a tub of promethium. Grandpa David taught me with Kerosene, and I experimented with the fuel of the Imperium about six months into my adventure here. I discovered that it worked so much faster and as long as there were no flames in the area, I was extra careful of that for obvious reasons.

"Greetings, Little Smith!"ohf*ck!

"Venters you snuff whatever flames you have on you before you come in here!" I called out, earning a chuckle as the large black and green armored form entered the room.

"Worry not, David. I could smell it going through the vents."Venters laughed, and settled up against the wall as I let out a relieved sigh and got to work scrubbing at Victoria, who was letting out satisfied purrs at the attention. "You're beginning to earn some proper scars, I see."He comments, gesturing towards the stitches running across the side of my scalp and the line across my forehead.

"I get through three campaigns without a major injury, the moment I'm on my own, I get stabbed and clawed up by a bunch of f*cken rats." I sighed out, running a cleaning rod down Vicky's barrel and bringing her up to my eyes to inspect her bore for anymore fouling. Her rifling sparkled like a mirror sheen.

"You've grown accustomed to squad work. Not unusual for most guardsmen." Venters spoke, poking a finger into the tub of promethium. "In addition, you're used to being well equipped, with multiple weapons on your person."

"I got co*cky. Smart thing to do would've been to retreat, find a way out." I placed Vicky down on the worktable and brought my focus to Venters. His red lenses analyzed me, looking for something.

"Yet you didn't. Because you knew that if you did, it would leave the possibility that the aliens could attack civilians."He spoke, and I shook my head with a chuckle.

"I don't like people dying, sure, but I won't say that's why I did what I did in those tunnels. I was just…angry. The idea of backing out of that fight seemed…shameful." I confessed, clenching my hands into fists. "It's getting worse too. Every fight, every conflict, I call it a Red Haze. It helps me fight, ignore pain, but I'm flying off the handle."

"Fury is a weapon, David. You're wielding it like a club. I will teach you to use it like a sword." Venters declared, before pausing a moment. "You also need asword, now that I think about it."

"I'm agunsmith, not aswordsmith, Venters."

"Irrelevant, you'll learn. Finish up, then meet me in the armory. It's time you learn how to handle the forge."

-Administratum Transcription of Interrogator David James Foothill's blacksmithing lesson with Deathwatch Sergeant Venters of the Salamanders-

-the sound of a door opening up and the rush of hot air escaping an enclosed area-

IDJF:I'm so glad I suited up completely.

DSV:Scared of a little fire, Little Smith?

IDJF: You call that 'Little'?

DSV:This is a light duty Salamander's Forge, David. You should be honored to even look upon it.

IDJF: Oh believe me on the inside I'm nerding out like nothing else. Out of all of the Legions, I respect the Salamanders the most.

DSV:Flattery won't save you, Little Smith. Pick up the tongs and hammer. You have much to learn, and I won't have my brothers teasing me for training an inadequate smith.

IDJF: The wonder-filled nerd inside of me is cheering. The realist is screaming that this is going tosuck.

DSV:Tell them both to shut up and listen.

IDJF: -Forlorn Sigh-

-The following nine hour lecture has been censored for the preservation of chapter secrets by order of Deathwatch Sergeant Venters of the Salamanders, excerpts have been declassified under the reasoning of: Comedy.-

IDJF: I can't mold steel with my fingers, Venters!

DSV:That's quitter talk. Quitter talk is not allowed in my workshop.

-Loud flaring of a gushing flame-

IDJF:Dangummit blasting me in the face with a hand flamer isn't going to make me learn any faster!

DSV:All evidence to the contrary. Nowmold the steel, Apprentice.

IDJF: -The string of expletives released by David James Foothill spanned two minutes, six languages, and violated eight sanctions on violent speech in Terran Airspace.-
————————————

DSV:You must be careful to heat the metal through completely in order for the heat treatment to take, David.

IDJF:I'mgetting heat treated at this point, Venters!

DSV:Good, maybe you'll harden enough to stop bitching. You're staying in that forge until that metal isgolden brown, by Vulkan I'll hold you there myself if need be.
————————————

-

IDJF: How am I supposed to put a monomolecular edge on this without a microscope?

DSV:Time, patience, and actually working instead of griping.

IDJF: I haven't slept in three days!

DSV:Be proud at how quickly this has gone. Some initiates takeyearsto forge their first blade.

IDJF: I swear I will convince your armor to lock you in a T-Pose in the middle of the mess.

DSV:And I will dump a bucket of burning promethium on you right before your next sortie.

IDJF: ….This ain't over.

DSV:I don't understand why you're wasting energy complaining and not sharpening. Back to it.
————————————

I staggered back to quarters barely coherent, finding Raya racking up her weaponry from her counter offensive. I stumbled over to the desk, removed Silver's Helmet, and stabbed the work of the last four days into the desk. It proudly gleamed in the dim lighting of the room before I collapsed into my bed groaning.

"David." Raya spoke, taking a seat on the bed. "I have questions."

"That is a Thirteen Inch long, Full Tang, Adamantine Bayonet with a K-Bar style blade. Marine's best friend. Integrated into the handle is a heavy hand guard that can act as a knuckleduster…and you wanna know the worst part? I'm not done!" I groaned out, planting my face into the bedding and letting out a muffled scream of frustration. "I start on the power sword tomorrow! I don't know sh*t about molecular disruption fields!"

"There, there, David." Raya tried to soothe me, patting my head softly. "But that wasn't what I was going to ask…why are you brown?"

"I was always brown! Being on this ship and out of the sun for nearly two years my white genes took over. I spent four days in a Salamander's forge. A good chunk of which onfire. Silver took the brunt of it, but I'm back to myMejicanopallor from the tan."

"I knew you would tan but I didn't expect to this extent."

"My mother would get mistaken for black the moment we went further north than Corpus Christi. I spend enough time inside I look white. I spend a summer outside helpingmi abuelofix trucks in the sun I look Mexican until winter…I'm going to pass out now. I only got nine hours before I'm back at it….and that's him already being generous." I muttered before collapsing into the sheets entirely.

Summary:

A combination chapter of 3 chapters

I wish I could say I was pulled away from Venters' Workshop by good news.

"We werejust there! Why didn't we find any when we were getting Vicky?!" I exclaimed, slamming a fist onto Vail's desk in frustration.

"We didn't enter the Hive Ruin proper. They likely hid themselves the moment we approached. That's not important, we know they're there now. The Custodians have wiped out their presence in the palace, and are scouring the eastern continent of Holy Terra. We have been assigned the western continent with the orders of, and I quote;

'Clean up your own House, Foothill.'" Vail spoke, taking a swig from a bottle of Amasec and slamming the bottle down onto her desk.

"And by 'We' I meanyou. You started this mess. By the Throne you'll fix it." Vail declared with authority, not a single hint of drunkenness in her tone I swear.

-Note from Inquisitor Amberley Vail: a particularly concentrated vintage I had procured within the Palace.-

"How am I supposed to clear an entire Skaven infestation on my own?!"

"You're an Interrogator of the Ordo Xenos. You have an Aquillan Shield. Figure it out." Vail shot back before shooing me out of her office, whose door slammed shut with authority. I let out a heavy sigh before straightening up and turning to face Raya and Venters, who had been dragged along to the debriefing.

"Is it worrisome that my first thought was to stir the ship into a crusade again?" I asked, earning a bark of a laugh from Venters and I could hear a muffled snort from Raya.

"Well, she didn't tell you not to do that. And we will need the numbers." Raya spoke, feigning thoughtfulness but the grin on her face gave it away. I let a bloodthirsty grin grow on my face.

"Good. We're about to get some proper 'purging of the xenos' done for once, having a proper fighting force this time around might actually make this fun." I spoke, and turned to Raya. "Raya dear, would you please gather the Sisters of the Order of the Lance? I got anIdea."
————————————

I had made it a point to keep my helm on when in plain view whilst back on the Exterminatus. So while a few of the upper brass had seen the new 'do and my scars, the general crew of the ship had yet to bear witness.

I had put out a call for Volunteers. Because while twelve jump pack equipped Seraphim were effective, I would need more to fight a Skaven Horde than the Lance Sisters and my normal squad.

I had expected maybe a couple squads worth. First to show up was obviously Anya, Piotr, Triton, Soline, and Lena, shortly followed by her Sisters.

The Order of the Lance once consisted of a humble dozen sisters. Not counting their Canoness. Evidently they had done some recruiting whilst on board. A platoon of green power-armored bodies marched into the mess in Parade formation. They had painted their white power armor into a dark forest green with gold trim, pauldrons proudly emblazoned with the visage of the Lance of Longinus. A few of them had even fashioned Bolt-Lances reminiscent of Raya's own, if shortened to fit the stature of an unmodified human.

Two Seraphim stood at the head of each ten woman squad, they held a bolt lance in one hand and I could see Repentia's sisters at their hips. Faith, Fury, and Fire, indeed.

The next group of people to filter in wore red. A lot of red.

Holy sh*t that is a lot of tech adepts.

They were, of course, headed by Yanbel. He hefted an Omnisian Glaive and made his way to us whilst the assembly of tech-adepts organized themselves into platoons and squadrons.

"GoodChrist, Yanbel, did you leave anyone to keep the ship running?" I asked him, shock reverberating through my tone, earning that crinkle around his eye lenses that told me he was smiling as his shoulders bounced in silent laughter.

"My friend, this is who I didn't have to turn away. The mechanicus takes care of its own. Or at the very least, those of us here on theExterminatusdo." Yanbel replied, gesturing to the sea of red assembled on the eastern half of the mess hall with his glaive.

"My pilgrimage doesn't start until next year." I deadpanned. Yanbel simply patted me on the shoulder before replying,

"My friend, you've been considered an initiate since your first blueprint went into production." He said, and I felt my eyes roll as I turned back to the growing mass of people.

"There's no way that's all crew from the Exterminatus. Last I saw we didn't have skitarii." Raya commented, looking over the assembled force with a critical eye.

"Wemayhave been reinforced by the priesthood present on Holy Terra when the Captain General relayed the Omnissiah's decree to us." He legitimately seemed sheepish, I'll admit that much. Still.

"This is way more than I expected. At least right off the bat anyway. Here come the guardsmen." I stated, a little shaken.

The guardsmen were the middle ground of the bunch in terms of volume, but they had a fervor to them that matched the Sisters. I recognized many of them from those that had fought on Graia, and I could see a familiar face in the mass, grinning up at me with a tap onto his breastplate.

I had thought he was just a trooper, as he had worn a full face helmet when he shoved the carapace chest plate I now wore into my hands those two years ago. Now I got a proper look at his face, dark hair and violet eyes that almost seemed to glow. He stood at the head of a platoon consisting of forty men and women. I could count a dozen different planets and regiments in the armor and patterns of weaponry, yet they stood side by side as if they were born next to one another. Three more platoons filtered in, just as diverse as the first. Except for one. Valhallan Ice Warriors, headed by a female lieutenant whose bright blonde ponytail seemed awful familiar. I waved up the lieutenants to join my compatriots overlooking the assembled force.

"The Inquisitor really has a penchant for being a melting pot, huh?" I commented to Yanbel as the lieutenants made their way to us. Once again his shoulders shook in silent laughter.

The lieutenants reached us moments later. Three men and two women, heading the group, was the Cadian. I would place him in his early thirties, he wore full body carapace armor, and had his helmet tucked under his arm. On his shoulder hung a Hellgun, on his hip a standard Militarum Combat Blade sat in its sheath, and his breastplate held the symbols of the Kasrkin.

Following him up was the blonde Valhallan, she was in the summer fatigues of her regiment, she was tall. About 6'2" or 6'3" I would guess. She had long blonde hair tied into a ponytail that ran down past her shoulders, and an eager grin on her face.

Next was the kind of woman my mother would want me to stay as far away from as possible. She wore a vest that showed her rank and regiment, but left it unfastened, giving Rakel a run for her money in the amount of Décolletage she showed. Her fatigue pants were a size too small and she had two belts of stubber ammunition cris-crossing her waist. She had a mean face, but not unattractive, a large amount of 'step on you and you'll thank her for it' energy. She had black hair shaved into a short Mohawk and piercings along her left ear.

Next was a man from Catachan if I've ever seen one. Shaven head and a muscled body crisscrossed with scars. He wore a vest denoting his rank as well, but kept it fastened and I could see the bundles of power packs and the signature Catachan Devil Sword on his hip. He also must've subscribed to the school of using ammunition belts as clothing as his pants were held up with belts of what looked like 30-06.

Finally, the last lieutenant was clad head to toe in sealed armor with a masked helmet. His helm had the face of a saint whom I couldn't recognize, but he held himself with a fervor that made me grin beneath my helm. I straightened up and addressed them.

"I need your names, ranks, regiments, if you please." I asked.

The Cadian spoke first.

"Second Lieutenant Kent, 1st Inquisitorial Misfit Regiment." He spoke, back straight and that explained the unfamiliar insignia on his pauldron.

"Never heard of you." I deadpanned, earning a chuckle.

"Officially, Interrogator, we don't exist. According to the Administratum, I died back home on Cadia in '929. All of our regiment stories are like that. Soldiers who slipped the cracks, tried to go back, and got harangued by the Administratum's red tape. Inquisition rounded up enough of us over time that we organized ourselves into regiments. We have six regiments now, all of them consisting of numerous homeworlds and specialties. We reinforce the Inquisition's shock troops." Kent spoke, pride in his voice. I could get behind sticking the bureaucratic hellhole of the Administratum a new one.

"I appreciate you and yours coming, Kent. Sincerely." I acknowledged him with a nod and turned to the next lieutenant, the blonde Valhallan. She snapped into a salute.

"Lieutenant Jenit Sulla, Valhallan 597th Infantry!" She declares, and I feel an eyebrow raise beneath my helm.

"Ain't you supposed to be driving Ciaphas to drink, Lieutenant?" I ask, earning a mischievous smirk. Oh so that ignorance of Cain's distaste for her is a joke huh.

"Some wires got crossed during the evacuation of Periremunda, Sir. We'll rejoin our regiment when next we cross paths. The Inquisitor has assured us it shouldn't take too long. In the meantime, we are at your service, Interrogator." Sulla speaks, that smirk on her face never wavering.

"As long as I see you and yours at the end of this, we'll get along just fine, Lieutenant."

Next was the more rough and tumble female lieutenant, who gave me a more bloodthirsty grin than Sulla's mischievous smirk.

"Boss Keth of the Ubrin 7th's 103rd Platoon. That your gun truck that did the hot drop on Peri', Interrogator?" She asks, co*cking one of her hips to the side and lighting a Lho-Stub. Cigar. It's a damn stogie cigar. Her voice has that unmistakable Aussie trill to it.

"Bubba gets me where I need to go, yeah." I respond, earning a competitive smirk.

"Keep track of how many Xenos he tags, yeah? Bet you a pack of 'Stubs our Lil' Willy tags more of those grubs, yeah?" Keth is now my favorite lieutenant, and no one can tell me otherwise.

"Bubba'll enjoy that, I'm sure." I'm fairly certain she could hear the grin on my face even behind my helmet. I turned to the Catachan. Oh wow he'sbig.

"Second Lieutenant Jacques Hadlen, Catachan Jungle Fighters." He spoke, standing at 6'7" of pure Catachanbeef.

"Just wanted a good fight?"

"Just wanted a good fight, Sir." He gave a quick nod before I turned to the final Lieutenant.

Now I could get a proper look at him, he was also rather large, he wore finely wrought flak armor, and a silvered mask with eye slits I could see bright blue eyes through.

"Lieutenant Nazir Al'Nagara. Maccabian Janissaries, We are ready to purge the Xenos Filth from Holy Terra, Interrogator." the now named Nazir spoke, standing steady at attention with rock solid posture.

"Are your men as prepared as you seem to be?" I asked, earning a nod.

"Born ready to a man, Interrogator."

"Good."
---------------------------------

Having acquainted myself with the Lieutenants I turned to face the mass of soldiers gathered below. Nerves jittered beneath my skin as I began to address them properly. Silence reigned as I began to speak.

"I'm sure all of you have heard that we are going to be going against a new type of Xenos. I applaud your bravery to face the unknown, and I thank you, personally, for answering my call." I said, "You all know who I am. You all know what I'm about. Now, I'm here to tell you about what exactly we're facing, and exactly why."

"They are called the Skaven. Though time has had them called many other names. Ratmen, Ratkin, the Underfollk. They are large, bipedal rodents stronger than the average human, and historically have taken over entire underhives by pure numbers."

"I was abducted by these filthy Xenos a week ago, and fought my way out. Not without difficulty, and not without scars." With this, I reached up and removed my helm, placing it on the rail of the overlook. I felt my new hair drape over my shoulders, and my stitches pulled at my face. I could hear gasps, and prayers as the masses saw me.

"I have borne witness to Him on Terra. I have received orders directly from His mouth. These Skaven, these Vermin, are worshipers of the Ruinous Powers. Attempting to gain a foothold on Holy Terra itself!"

"I say,Nay!Every man and woman in this room can draw roots tohere.Holy Terra,Earth. The ancestral home of the Human Race, and these Ratsdarestep foot in our home? In ourhouse?I sayNAY!."

"We have been tasked withwiping this scum from the face of the Earth. Not the Custodians, not the Space Marines,us. The soldiers of the Astra Militarum, servants of the Inquisition, Adepts of the Mechanicus. For ten thousand years you've held the line against the alien, the heretic, and the mutant. The Skaven areall three."

"What do we do with these? What do we do with a cultist species whose sole desire is the destruction and enslavement of the human race?! What do we do to such a species?!"

"BURN THE HERETIC! KILL THE MUTANT! PURGE THE ALIEN!"Their shout sent my ears ringing, accompanied by the binaric cry of the Mechanicus, I let a vicious grin split my face. My weapons were crying for battle, I could feel Silver tightening around my body in anticipation.

Vicky was singing 'Shumi Marista'

Magni was breaking his silence for once and slowly gaining volume with his eager laughter.

Grande was promising destruction to the Skaven, and Repentia was cackling with her pilot light flaring.

Dimitri was riling up his Valhallan descendants into a frenzy with intense fervor.

And my .45, my Bud. Simply co*cked his hammer back in his holster.

"All of you, gather your equipment, your vehicles, your weapons. Because we go to war in forty-eight hours, and I want to see as many of you as possible after we wipe the rats out.AM I UNDERSTOOD?!"

"

"

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

As the standard soldiers left, and the lieutenants and my entourage began to make our way down, we were stopped by what I thought was a normal Seraphim of the order of the Lance.

Until I heard Sister Penance giggling at her hip.

"Five Militarum Platoons consisting of sixty men apiece, one Order Minoris of the Adeptus Sororitas consisting of sixty sisters, and an entire regiment of the Adeptus Mechanicus consisting of four thousand adepts, skitarii, and combat servitors." Inquisitor Amberley Vail spoke calmly, leaning against the doorway to exit the mess, clad in Sororitas Armor and dangling a helm from her finger.

Stone Cold

.

"H-Howdy, Boss…" I stammered out, earning a chuckle from Raya, Keth, and Kent.

"Fire and Brimstone to chastised whiteshield in five minutes?" Keth commented,

"He's still learning, give it time." Raya countered.

Amberley pushed off the doorframe, revealing a giddy Zemelda Cleat behind her, also clad in Sororitas Power armor, and then approached me.

"For a first mustering, not bad. I won't be around all the time to gather or commandeer local forces. Even cutting out the Mechanicus' attempt to curry favor."

Yanbel Shrugged in response

"Over two hundred soldiers volunteered for service. Not a bad showing. Next is the negotiations. The Custodes deployed one hundred and fifty Custodians and wiped out a half-million Ratkin in the Eastern Continents and the immediate wastes. If there are anywherenearthat much enemy numbers in our operating sphere, we're going to need some assistance from the local guard regiments." Vail explained, patting me on the shoulder.

"Chop-Chop, apprentice. You haveforty-eight hours." Amberley spoke in a teasing tone of voice I could've sworn she normally reserved for Ciaphas, and turned to saunter away with a malevolent chuckle.

I quickly turned to Raya.

"Honey, I need you to get me a meeting with the Palatine Sentinels and the Lucifer Blacks. I pray the latter aren't as treacherous as their namesake." I requested, to which Raya flashed a smile, nodded, and proceeded to practically disappear with how fast she darted out of there. Sulla, being the new kid on the block, let her jaw drop.

"You're…sleepingwith aCustodian?" she asked, earning a few chuckles from the other officers.

"Betrothed to, technically, yes. What, you think I could tell her 'No'? I like my head on my shoulders, thank you very much."

————————————

I managed to get a meeting later that day with the Palatine Sentinels, and thanked the Lord that Raya was able to pull rank on the Major in charge. As for the Lucifer Blacks.

"The Carpenter was leading a sermon, and I don't think I could draw their attention away from Him with a Leman Russ." Raya had told me. Moving on.

The Major in charge of the Palatine Sentinels was a chipper man by the name of Suman, who seemed to have been expecting the summons.

"Interrogator Foothill! We were growing a bit worried that we'd miss out on the fight!" He spoke cheerfully, he had a large bushy beard and his white uniform was adorned with countless medals.

"You were expecting me, I take it?" I asked, earning a barking laugh from the man.

"The Captain-General had us preparing for this crusade for the last week, Interrogator. The Blacks supported the Custodians, and we've been slated to assist in the purging of old 'Merica." Suman explained, before gesturing to a large map of the North American Continent that I used to call home. "I know you're not well versed in the large-scale tactics, but at the very least you need to know what section of the continent you're in charge of clearing."

His words sent a wave of relief through me that had me slumping on the table with a weight lifted from my shoulders.

"Oh thank the Throne I was worried I'd have to scour a whole continent with forty-five-hundred men." I exclaimed, earning another laugh and a slap on the back from the jubilant major.

"Not this time, son. Now get your war face back on, Interrogator. Can't let the men know we're still squishy behind the rank." Suman spoke, before gesturing at the map once more. He gestured at the area that used to be Big and Little Diomede.

"My boys and I will be taking care of the majority of the continent, starting here, on this peninsula."

"Alaska. Used to be a frozen tundra with hundreds of miles of evergreens." I commented,

"It's all desert now, most of the continent is, that which isn't hive city or ruins." Suman replied before continuing. "My regiment is going to surround the continent, and over the course of a few weeks, we will systematically scour the area and purge every trace of these vermin from the continent. Where you come in, ishere." Suman jabs a finger exactly where Iknewhe would.

Home. Or at least what it became.

"f*ckers are in my house…" I growled out, eyes locked on the green flag marking what I guessed was either a massive skittergate or a nest.

"The ruin of Hive Reyn. The Custodians told us that they interrogated some of the rats, and they've constructed some sort of massive staging area in this location. You were born here, yeah?"

"Thirty Eight ThousandYearsago, unless they just built up around the old infrastructure my knowledge of the area ain't worth crap." I replied, "there's another thing eating at me…there's way too few of them."

"What?!" Suman exclaimed, finally breaking that cheerful veneer.

"The Skaven rival the Tyranids in sheer numbers. Half a million for a continent is ascouting partyfor them. They must still be getting a foothold if they're stretched this thin." I muttered, taking a look at the map, "I would suggest that the Custodians and the Lucifer Blacks send out a few more search and destroy parties to be absolutely sure they got all of them. But if what I'm saying proves to be the case, we got to get this donefast."

"How bad are we talking, Foothill?" Suman asked, suddenly a lot more invested in the map and moving around pins that signified his troops.

"A horde of chaos worshiping Ratkin that can number in thebillionsin a matter of weeks. I killed one of their warlocks during my escape, but I doubt he was the only one…and since they're currently in cahoots with the galaxy's sickest grandpa, I wouldn't put it past them to have a few Death Guard Heretics reinforcing them." I muttered keeping an eye on the adjusted positioning, he gave me a few mechanized platoons to assist, that's nice of him.

"Well then, it's a good thing you have the good Lady to help us out then."

"Wouldn't count on that. Raya, as good hearted as she is, is under orders to only interfere if my life is in danger directly. She wants to help, sure, but orders are orders. No, we want Custodian help, we gotta go to the Captain-General." I explained, leading to Suman leaning back from the table and drawing a pipe fromsomewhereto take a few puffs out of it.

"Well we won't know for sure unless we ask, won't we?"

————————————

"Unfortunately I'm under orders not to lend you any personnel."

"Goddamn it." I swore,

"I'd rather not."

"GAH!" It was totally dignified exclamation of surprise, having my Savior appear over my left shoulder with a disapproving stare.

"Besides, there's no need for profanity. I am forbidden from lending you my personnel."The Captain-General leaned down a bit, and I could hear mischief in his tone.

"He didn't say anything about me stretching my legs a bit."

I had prayed,beggedChrist to allow me easy passage out of the palace and back to theExterminatuswithout getting accosted by anything.

He, it seems, had a test for me.

As I made my way to the shuttle to return with the Captain General and Raya in tow, there was a visitor waiting for us.

"

The vox tinged voice of Recclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi. The voice of the Minotaurs. His tone derisive and disdainful of even having to acknowledge my existence. Which would've been fine by me, because my temper, already frayed from the situation, would be on a hair trigger having to talk with thesepsychopaths.

Raya moved to cover my back, and the Captain General remained further back, observing.

"Your assistance would be an unnecessary risk to my men. Your chapter has your purpose, and it's not inmy crusade." I replied, my voice turning into a growl in my throat, Silver activated the Armor Protocol silently as the Recclusiarch stepped forward.

"

He towers over me, but I'm keeping my distance. I wouldn't put it past him to lunge, especially with my next response.

"It is for this war. And I will belong dead andburiedbefore I ever share a battlefield with your ilk. Who gleefully go after your own kin, slaughter civilians, and are two steps in the wrong direction from becoming the heretics you so hate."

"

I could see the Recclusiarch's hand twitch towards his crozius.

Silver enhanced my voice through the vox, whilst even further reinforcing the armor protocol.

"You're damned right I dare.Here's what you need to understand,Minotaur." I spat the word out like a curse. "There are ten million-million-million-million-million-million-million-million-

particles in the universe that we can observe. If you wrote out '

' across every single one, it would maybe be atenthof theabsolute

I hold for your chapter. You're a disgrace to your armor. You're the wrecking ball of a bunch of politicians who are about to get one

of a wake-up call. So do it. Swing." I take a step forward, blood boiling beneath my skin.

"For the love of

, give me the excuse. The Sons of Vulkan will happily answer my call to

" I snarled out, glaring up at the helm of the Recclusiarch, I watched his hand twitch, itching towards his weapon, before it clenched into a fist and returned to his side.

"

The Recclusiarch spoke,

"Test me on this, and I promise you:

." I snarled, a power not my own filling my voice as I reiterated the words of the Sigilite. Silver maxed out my enhancements in anticipation of a fight that never came. It was a split second but I saw the Minotaur, and the Captain Generalfreeze. The moment passed, the Minotaur scoffed and walked away, but I had a feeling that this interaction would haunt me.

We made our way into the shuttle and as Raya started to kick us off, the Captain General spoke in a voice that brokered no argument.

"Remove your helm, David."He ordered, leaning forward in his seat to stare me in the eyes. I followed the order and met his gaze. I meant every word I said. He stared me in the eye for a while, before leaning back in his seat with a sigh.

"Not possessed or corrupted, just pure homegrown,

, righteous fury."He muttered, shaking his head. "You sounded like Angron, for a moment there."

"Big Man told me to grow a backbone. Can't shy away at every big armored asshole that doesn't like normal humans if I'm gonna be fighting these wars." I muttered, turning over Silver's Helm in my lap, taking a long look into the red lenses of my helm. "Getting Angry instead of Scared has gotten easier, recently. Venters has been telling me how to harness it better, during my blacksmithing training."

"You need a bit more training as to

that fury is to be used, David James. Even if I

sympathize with your grievances. The Minotaurs

serve a purpose in the wider imperium."

"They're wilddogson the leash of a bunch of corrupt politicians that your old man needs to put to pasture."

"They are viciously trained war hounds on the leash of the High Lords of Terra."

"Well remember what happened to thefirstset of Space Marine War Hounds?"

"Yes, David, I was

. I witnessed Angron's fall firsthand, and you think I don't have eyes on

shows similar inclinations?"The Captain General leans forward once more, staring into my eyes with his helmed visage once more.

"You think I'm not watching

? You're making attempts to curb these tendencies, and I commend you for it, but you have a predilection for many of the same traits that Angron had."He brings an armored hand across the shuttle and pokes me in the chest with his finger. "Fire and Brimstone are well and good, but must be tempered with Duty and Honor. Take care that you don't become a hypocrite in your bid to try and remake an age long

"

"I'm not trying to-"

"Don't kid yourself, David. You're smarter than that."His tone wasn't accusatory or judging, but it was stern. I bit back a curse before I let out a huff.

"Is it wrong to try and make things better than they are?" I spoke softly, rage petering off as I leaned back against the wall of the shuttle in my seat, gazing at the ceiling. "This millennium is an Era of Suffering. Of endless war and bloodshed. I want to heal it. To cut away the Rot, before it gets any worse. Or at least, as much as one man can."

"The fire that burns twice as hot lasts half as long, David. You try too hard, and that Rot will come for

. It likely already is. The Minotaurs will come for you now. You know that right?"

With cold fury running through my veins once more, I leaned forward and looked directly into his eye lenses.

"If they mean to have war with me, they'd be declared heretics for trying to kill someone under the protection of an Aquillan shield. I disrespected them, sure, but I technically outrank them. In addition to that, I'm allied with one of the original chapters, not a successor chapter, who very much have the same opinion on the Minotaurs that I do. Yes, the Minotaurs have a purpose. The deal is, there arehundredsof other chapters that could also fulfill that purpose

the excessive civilian casualties and collateral damage." I tapped on my fingers as I went over each point, before continuing.

"Am I abusing the political sh*tstorm that is my relationship with Raya? Yes. Yes I am. Is it likely going to bite me in the ass later? Probably. Will it save more loyal human lives overall if I remove the Minotaurs from the board? Yes. I believe so."

"And if your belief is misplaced?"

"Then I will take responsibility for my actions with my own two hands."
—————————

-Twenty Four Hours Later-

"KEEP YOUR KARKING HEADS DOWN!" Keth's voice crackled through the vox alongside the sounds of bullets ringing off of iron. Venters, in the bed of the truck manning Patton, deployed suppressing fire as I floored the gas. The sand of the wastes kicking up dust as we sped towards Hive Reyn, which wascrawlingwith Ratmen.

The initial assault was a mechanized push, and in my branch of the plan, I was supported by the Gallow Birds and their Lil' Willy, a modified utility vehicle fit with a dual heavy stubber and armor plating. Unfortunately their primary gunner had just been shot in the face with a warplock jezzail. I was driving Bubba, and with Anya, Piotr, and Triton crammed into the cab with me, things were getting tense.

"Incoming projectiles, Eleven o'clock high!" Triton exclaimed from the back seat.

Sickly green fireballs, maybe a dozen of them hurling towards us in a semi-random pattern.

"Plague Claws! Deploy hazmat countermeasures, I want everyone sealed ASAP! Kent! We have enemy artillery within two kilometers, coming from-"

"South-Southeast!" Triton clarified.

"South-Southeast, Keth, get eyes on so Kent can bring in the artillery barrage. Let's see how these rats like earthshaker rounds!" I barked into the vox, swerving out of the path of the disease ridden projectiles.

"That's what I'm talking about, Mate! What a tic…Incoming Vehicles! On our twelve!"Keth's voice turned into a snarl as her vehicle swerved to engage the approaching vehicles.

Four ramshackle trucks belching greenish-black smoke, piloted by Skaven in some caricature of Mad Max, clankin hung from the sides, hissing and brandishing explosives or melee weapons, sometimes the odd laspistol. I diverted course and heard the impacts of rounds and lasbolts ping off of Bubba's chassis, followed by the quick rebuttal from Venters on the .50.

"

Kent's voice buzzed through the Vox as I heard the whistling of the shells fly overhead, smoke clouding the horizon, hopefully blocking the Skaven Artillery's sight line.

Two of the Ratshackle Trucks peeled off to engage us as the other two went after Kent, and whilst one of them was cut to pieces by Venters before getting within a hundred feet, the other had gotten close enough for one of the Clanrats to leap at us to try and board.

He discovered what a bumper bar moving at a hundred and twenty miles an hour tasted like, and rolled over the roof. Venters squirted him for good measure, as did Soline, who was manning Drake. I saw his body puff into red mist in my driver side mirror.

In addition to the dead clankin, the horizon in my rear view was covered in dust kicked up by our army's vehicles. Dune-riders, Chimera's, and even a few Chimerros crewed by the Palatines.

Bubba jolted as the Ratshackle sideswiped us.

"Oh two can play at that game, LEMME AT 'EM DAVEY!" Bubba cried, and I acquiesced his request, pulling away slightly before slamming into the rear right tire of the truck.

"How's that PiT maneuver taste?! LIGHT 'EM UP DRAKE!"

Soline was proving a good kill confirmer, considering whatever ended up in her sights was near-instantly hit with a burst of high explosive bolter shells.

Keth was doing well, swerving around and doing donuts around the Ratshackles, her backup gunner pumping them full of stubber rounds all the while until they burst into flame.

"I got a bead on those damned catapults! Grubs are holed up in a ruin at…26.2934 Degrees North, 97.9931 Degrees West, roughly a Kilo Southeast of our position!"Keth let out a whoop as Kent's voice filled the Vox.

"

-Kra-KOOM-the sound of the Basilisks guns firing rang through the vox, moments later the whistling of the rounds flying through the air. Bubba jostled once more as the earthshaker rounds lived up to their name, and the flashes of explosives lit up the horizon. The artillery barrage lasted seven minutes, during which the convoy Keth and I were leading quickly caught up to us and watched the show.

"….Congratulations, Lieutenant Kent, you've reduced what used to be Elsa, Texas into a crater."

"

The Ruins Hive Reyn stretched north out of what used to be the Mexican-American border, it wasn't a singular city, but a cluster of smaller hives that were connected via underground tunnels and massive skybridges. At some point in the last 38,000 years, it had been ravaged by some kind of bombardment, because large swathes of the Hive had been blasted away and left craters deep into the Earth.

I decided we were going to finish the job.

"Lieutenant Kent!" I called through the Vox, and shortly later a Basilisk pulled up alongside Bubba, the Cadian Lieutenant poking out of the hatch.

"Yes, Sir?" He asked, I gestured towards the distant ruined towers.

"You see those Hive Spires, Lieutenant?" I asked, and he nodded.

"Yes, Sir."

"I don't want to." I stated, and his face mirrored the cat that caught the canary.

"

The Basilisk reversed back into the artillery line and they began their preparations. As they did so I spoke into the Vox, on the general channel.

"Alrighty folks, This is Interrogator David James Foothill speaking with the itinerary for this here engagement. Y'see, for the next twenty four hours, our boys and girls in the artillery line are going to be shelling the ruins of Hive Reyn, which I have been assured were barren of human life evenbeforethe Skaven decided to make our lives difficult, into a very finepowder. Now, It's gonna be our job to make sure that this barrage can go on unscathed, so expect a counterassault from the Skaven." I took a moment to take a breath, thinking for a moment about the area and what I knew before continuing, "Now, our mission here is two-fold. Both orders given directly by the Emperor himself, so calm your war-boners for two seconds and listen up!"

"We are here to wipe the scum of the Skaven off the face of the earth, yes. But we are also here to snatch as many ancient weapons and relics that we can get our grubby little kleptomaniacal hands on."

"'But Sir' you ask, 'what about Hive Reyn itself?' Well, take it from a Rio Grande Valley native:There ain't sh*t here.Hence why I'm going to be sending a few squads to specific areas in the surrounding territory for two things: Find out how far the Skaven have spread, and to search potential treasure troves that may still hold some relics of the good ol' U S of A." Silver sent out a number of different coordinates to the Lieutenants to assign guard duties and expeditionary squads at their discretion.

"Each of these locations I've sent to you all are locations of military bases or historical sites that, with enough alacrity, we can get to, search, and get back within eighteen hours. If you do not find any relics, keep an eye out for Skaven outposts, and destroy them." With a final breath, I address the artillery.

"Major Suman, Lieutenant Kent, show these Rats what Forty Thousand Years of Human Ingenuity can do. Begin the Barrage."

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

"Anya, Piotr, I need you two to stay here and help coordinate the defense. Anya, take Dimitri. You're the better shot." I ordered my two friends, earning quick nods and a scoff from Piotr, who hefted his new Hellgun and popped the door of the cab.

"I twitchedonce, and you never forget it." He mutters, earning a chuckle from me and his cousin. The two of them dismounted and Triton moved up into the front seat.

"I can't begin to imagine how Thunder Warriors fit in here, Interrogator." He snarked, his mechadendrites darting in to avoid getting caught in the door.

"I don't want to think about it. We got important sh*t to deal with. Anya, Piotr. Keep your heads on a swivel, coordinate with Major Suman, he's a better commander than I am, if he has suggestions, follow them. Triton, Soline, Venters and I are gonna be going to one of the more likely treasure troves in the area." I ordered, leaning out the window to get a look at the hellfire beginning rain on the ruins of Hive Reyn.

The sound of the artillery going off just over the horizon and screaming through the air to crash into the spires is muted by my helm. Flashes of orange fire light up each impact and I know that within a few minutes we'd likely be dealing with a counterattack. My musings were cut short by Bubba shifting with two large weights suddenly clinging to the side of the truck.

The Captain-General had decided to cling to the side of my truck and Raya, ever the loyal subordinate, mirrored him on the passenger side.

"So, where are we headed, Foothill?" The Captain-General asks, a jaunty smirk in his tone.

"Laughlin Air Force Base. About a five hour drive." I responded dryly, to which Bubba spoke up.

"We don't have speed limits anymore Davey, betcha I can make it in two!"

"We're overloaded, Bubba…two and a half." Patton snarked back.

The Captain-General, blessedly ignorant of the growing argument between machines, inclined his head with a hum.

"We'd best get moving then, shouldn't we?"

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

We burned through the wastes of what used to be Central Texas as fast as Bubba's engine would allow us. And judging by the howling laughter from said truck, we were doingjust fine. I will say, when we hit a rough patch of infrastructure at 180 miles an hour…welp it felt like my insides were trying to rattle their way out of my asshole.

One point to the mechanicus and their augmetics, I suppose, for being able to stone-face that without any visible discomfort.

Now, the trip wasn't exactly smooth sailing. Well, at least not for me, the driver.

Raya and the Captain General had a wonderful time engaging the Ratshackles and a new skaven vehicle: a goddamn Camaro, now dubbed the Camarat, damn things werefast.As in catch up to us when we're going 180 MPH fast.

Now, IthoughtI had an idea of the capabilities of Custodians, given my closeness with Raya and our training.

I was mistaken.Sorely.Mistaken.

I remember reading somewhere before I was pulled here that a single Custodian was described as a 'golden blur' throughout a battlefield. It proved true for Raya, even with Silver enhancing my perception.

It didnotprove true for the Captain-General, who's only proof of notf*ckingteleporting was the cloud of dust his footsteps kicked up as he darted from Skaven Vehicle to Skaven Vehicle, completely forgoing the use of weapons to simply tear them apart with his hands. At one point, he jumped onto the hood of one truck, crushing it and the engine beneath, leapt to another, and proceeded to hit the cab of said truck withthe people's elbow.

Honestly I wish I could've enjoyed the show more, instead of having tododge bloody warpfire spewersand rockets. The Camarats had decided to focus on us mortals, forgetting that Venters was still in the back andvery mucha hell of a heavy machine-gunner. Whilst I was focused on getting us where we needed to go, he was running Patton like a sewing machine, and when the enemy got too close to use Patton, letting out a torrent of flame from his Hand Flamer that sent a conflagarated Camarat into a ditch.

Bubba hitched terribly as two weights once again settled on each side of the cab.

"GoddamnDavey…I thought the Uni Wars were rough on the suspension." Bubba muttered under the strain before releasing a growl that spurred us back to speed.

"Well, Shield-Captain, you've slowed down in wedded life." The Captain-General commented to Raya, who let out a huff.

"My training has not faltered, Sir." Raya defended, but I could hear the fluster in her tone.

"No offense is intended, Little Sister, simply remember that lovemaking does not count as 'additional PT'."

"Okay, that was out of pocket,Kitten." I shot through the Vox, earning a bark of laughter from the Captain General.

"Oh I haven't heard that one in years, did you tell him that one Raya? Or was it Karstodes?"The Captain General's shoulders shook as he laughed, giving the driver's side window a playful tap. "It has been

since someone has dared to remind me of that moniker, do you know how I got it, David?"

"Did you purr in your sleep like Raya does?"

"David!" HA! Broke her composure.

"HA! No. My name is Leonidas, David. Karstodes figured out the meaning of it at some point and thus, 'kitten' was born."The now named Captain-General explains, looking wistfully at the horizon as we close the distance to our destination. "It has been a number of years since I've had the opportunity to stretch my war-muscles, this has been…enjoyable."

"We've been in like…fourconflicts." I muttered,

"Four skirmishes, one ambush, and two advancing guards. Totalling 247 dead enemy combatants, Omnissiah be Praised." Triton clarified from the passenger seat, earning a few chuckles from Raya, Venters, Leonidas, and Soline.

Was it really that many rats…damn.

"We've been eatinggood, Davey! Goddamnis it good to be back in the fight." Bubba cried, spurring us forward with a burst of acceleration, Patton grunting in agreement, and Drake, the Young'n, was simply happy to be here.

Me, personally? I was praying that we would find something worth the risk of me going out here. Y'see about a half hour in to the trip, I got a sinking feeling in my gut that I couldn't shake. My mood dropped significantly, and the skirmishes hadn't helped.

Okay maybe pasting Skaven with Bubba's bumper bar helped alittle.

Still, as I saw the walls of what used to be Laughlin AFB, that feeling came back with a vengeance.

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

Laughlin was mainly a training base, back in the day. It had a reservist barracks, sure, but overall it was mainly a base meant to train new fliers.

Now obviously when sh*t hit the fan over the course of 38000 years that changed.

Instead of a modest ruin or a crater, as I expected, the ruins we encountered weremassive. Rockrete spanned our vision and massive steel doors hung open like the maw of a dead beast.

We split into groups of three, Mortals vs Enhanced, and whoever found the most useful relic got bragging rights.

Obviously I cheated. Triton, being the technogremlin that he is, got the power going with just a single cogitator. With the power running, I could hear the voices of the machines waking up. Well. One machine in particular.

"Mine eyes have seen the glory of the coming of the Lord." It sang, and I followed the music. It was faint, and I could barely make it out at first, but as we marched, it became clearer and clearer.

"He is trampling out the vintage where the grapes of wrath are stored."Winding hallways and paths choked with dust we walked through, following the old Hymn.

"He hath loosed the fateful lightning of His terrible swift sword."Louder and louder, closer and closer we crept, eyes perched for any movement or automated defenses.

"His Truth is Marching on!
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
His Truth is Marching on!"

I followed my ears and verse after verse continued, until we came across the goldmine.

Hangar Bay B14. Triton got to work at the cogitator to open the door, Air rushing inside once he got it to cooperate.

"He has sounded forth the trumpet that shall never call retreat
He is sifting out the hearts of men before his judgment seat
Oh be swift, my soul, to answer Him. Be jubilant, my feet!
Our God is Marching On!"

The lights kicked on revealing an ancient beauty that sent a grin on my face that stretched ear to ear beneath my helm.

"Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
Glory, Glory, Hallelujah!
His Truth is Marching on!" I harmonized with the old beast for a moment before I finally approached, gesturing at the grand being.

"Tech-Adepts of the Priesthood of Mars, I introduce you to: the AC-130. The AC standing for Attack Cargo, it is, essentially, an artillery battery with wings. Capable of flying 300 miles an hour and with a range of 1300 miles before refueling, in my time, this was one of the most feared vehicles in the arsenal. They have been given many names, however one shines through. After destroying 10,000 enemy vehicles in the war for Vietnam, they were given the moniker 'the Angel of Death.'" I announce, popping open the door closer to the co*ckpit, and heading inside.

"You flatter me, Son." The plane's voice is old, resolute. I run a hand along the dust caked interior wall, a blue glowing light shining from a crate catching my eye.

"You're in pretty good shape here, Old-Timer…what you doing here down Texas way? Ain't y'all supposed to be based out of Florida?" I asked, pulling the glowing object from the grate. It was a piece of something, it projected a holograph in front of my eyes with blueprints and manufacturing data. OhBoy. I tucked away the tablet underneath my chest plate as the gunship spoke again.

"Well, Son, my brothers and I got pulled out of retirement when Opfor f*cked around real bad." Oh dear, that doesn't sound good.

"How bad?" I asked, that sinking feeling returning again.

"Bad enough that Grandpa Buff is sleeping the next hangar over with a Spear on standby."

"What?!"

Irushedout of the cargo plane andsprintedto the next hangar, barking

"Get a salvage crew over here ASAP!" Over my shoulder towards Triton as Soline matched my frantic pace.

Not even bothering with the Cogitator I slammed my foot into the personnel entrance with enough force to pulverize it.

There, sitting under the haze of fading lights, sat the B-52 stratofortress.

"Have you forgotten your Decorum, Child? Has the world fallen so far that manners have no place when amongst the Elders?" His voice is noble, regal even. The voice of generations of service.

"Forgive me, Sir." I say, breathless. "I am David of house Foothill. A navy family."

"And why are you here, Navyman? Why do you disturb my rest?" The co*ckpit of the Stratofortress seems to glare at me, and I find myself frozen.

My pistol, my guardian, my friend, he speaks next.

"Why are you not gone to rust? Why are you not dust in the wind, radiation seeping from your bones?" He challenges, breaking his signature silence. "You know exactly why we are here. You feel it as much as the rest of our metal kin do."

"War, then?" The stratofortress asks, and Buddy's response is grave.

"Extinction, should we not do our duty. It is time, Sky-Knight."

"I am old, young guardian. Many parts of me gone to rust and time."

"But not all of you." I cut in, stepping forward. "I can fix you, and if not, retrofit. You can rule the skies alongside your kin once more. I swear it."

Silence for a moment.

"Millennia, I have sat here. Waiting to rust away. Only to persist. Why? I wondered. Why? I would ask. And now, when I feel the Rot-Father scratching at the gates louder than ever, you arrive…a sign? A calling?" He mutters, before with a belch of black smoke his engines spark to life, filling the hangar with a roar that his voice mirrors, "It is time for the War-Song to be sung, and I will not be silent for asinglemoment longer! Show me thine enemies, child! And our crescendo will echo throughout the immaterium itself!"

"….Thank You." Is all I can say through bated breath.

"Triton, Soline. Front andCenter!"I Shouted out, the two tech adepts rushing over to me and standing at attention.

"I am placing the two of you in charge of the salvage operation of this facility. Now. These two aircraft are of absolute importance to this operation. SO. I amrelyingupon the two of you to make sure that no Blood Ravens, Minotaurs, or wild Trazyns take these aircraft from us. Triton, I need you to scour the cogitators for operations manuals and training texts, fill as many data slates as you need to and you get them to me." I ordered, tone grave. There was a hint of hesitation before Triton spoke.

"Sir…by creed I would be required to present the findings to a superior of the Mechanicus first." He states, usual mischievousness gone from his tone. I nodded.

"I understand that, however; Counterpoint:" I reached beneath my chest plate and pulled out the glowing blue dataslate I had pilfered earlier. An STC Fragment. Or, more accurately, the ancestor of one. Holographs projected in the air between us, flickering between designs. Planes, tracked vehicles, man-portable weaponry, armor. Specifications of material density, fueling, instructions on modification and retrofits. The two tech adepts eyes' widened instantly, and I could see the anticipation in their body language.

"Sir…is that what I think it is?" Soline asks, voice filled with awe

-Note from Lady Custodian Raya: Yeah. Awe. You sweet summer child.-

"Yes, Yes it is. And if you two want printouts of it for yourpersonalperusal, you're going to do what I ask, yeah?" I propose, tucking the tablet back under my chestplate. The two adepts snapped into a salute.

"

(

)

With their binaric declaration ringing in my ears, I made my way to exit the hangar, markedly ignoring the growing wet spot on a visibly twitching Soline's crimson robes.

I ran into Venters, Raya, and Leonidas on the way out, and instantly they joined in step as I marched through the halls to get back to Bubba.

"You must've found something of import if you're this incensed, David."The Captain-General commented as we marched.

"Important enough that I'm leaving two perfectly good aircraft behind to haul ass with a pickup truck into a warzone." I spoke quickly, walking quickly. "I now have one moreextremelygood reason to get this extermination done quickly. We have to move.Now."

We had found a veritablegold mine. Something was wrong. Things were goingtoowell. That feeling in my gutcinchedand I hopped into the driver's seat and started the engine with purpose.

"Oh boy I know that look…what's going on Dave?" Bubba asked as I pulled a U-Turn, Leonidas and Raya grabbing hold of the sides and Venters hopping into the back.

"You remember when we had to rush my brother to the hospital?" I asked, and Bubba's normally playful demeanor vanished.

"Yes, Boss."

"We're going to haul ass as if Jayden was bleeding out in the passenger seat." I stated, beforeflooring it.
--------------------------------------------------

f*cking knew something was wrong. We made it back in an hour and a half, finding an all out Skaven assault ongoing on our artillery position. A wall of lasers firing against a wave of fur and fangs.

"Venters." I spoke. "Get on Drake. I'm linking to Patton. We're going in."

"Into the Fires of Battle"Venters spoke, following the suggestion. Raya and Leonidas dismounted, both brandishing their bolt-lances. I grabbed the cable that would normally link to a standard auspex and plugged it into the side of my helm. An additional reticle appeared on my visor and I floored the gas pedal once more. Into the Horde. Unto the Anvil.

Utilizing a trigger pedal under my left foot I let loose with a large torrent of .50 cal from Patton as we rapidly approached the Horde of Skaven. Once again I saw a single golden blur and a cloud of dust rush the Skaven and begin to raise hell.

"Interrogator! We got eyes on you!"Major Suman's voice cut into my comm-bead, as well as a fresh wave of mortars launched from the defensive line into the Horde.

"What thehellhappened, Major!" I called out, swerving around a large rock launched at me by a Rat Ogre who began to charge out of the horde. I swung Bubba around and Venters unloaded a stream of .95 Caliber high explosive bolt shells into the Ogre. I'll give the monstrosity credit for taking at least six high explosive bolts before being reduced into a meaty paste.

"We were toodamnedeffective, Interrogator. About half an hour ago, the artillery barrage hit something important. Sent up a green cloud of fire that reached halfway up the spire. Five minutes after that we engaged the first wave, and it's been constant ever since. We're preparing for a repositioning. There were too many for us to simply hold out."Suman summarized, and the sound of more cannons going off rang through the Vox, I could see the anti-personnel shells shred the ranks of the horde, shrapnel tearing through skaven flesh with reckless abandon.

"Must've knocked out the skittergate. They're going all out…" I muttered, swinging the truck back around to begin circling the horde. I sent bursts of .50 intermittently into the horde, and Venters showed his experience in sending precise scythes of bolt shells into their ranks, culling dozens of rats at a time.

Dozens of dead in a single burst would be impressive if the horde wasn't likelythousandsof Skaven strong.

"Lieutenants, report." I called over the vox,

"Good to hear you're back with us, Mate. the Birds are running interference to cover the repositioning."Keth responded first, followed by Jacques

"My fighters are lighting up the rats alongside the Janissaries, Al'Nagara took a round to the throat and can't talk. He's alive, andpissed." The Catachan reported, a hoarse growl following his report.

"Coming up on your Six, Interrogator!"Sulla spoke, and indeed, soon enough I was supported by a sextet of Chimeras, each spewing multilas or heavy bolt shells into the horde. As the vehicles moved to continue encircling the horde, an idea spawned.

"Mechanized units, begin encircling the horde. Yanbel, divide your mechanized units, half remain with the artillery and wounded, the other half get your asses up here. We're gonna herd these idiots like a bunch of grox." I declared, "Keep your heads on a swivel, there may be secondary mobs, but if the artillery took out their leadership along with the Skittergate…"

"They may just be rushing us like a bunch of techno-barbarians!"Lieutenant Kent, I was almost worried. Suman began barking orders to the Palatines, Yanbel let off a stream of binaric that was met with a spur of activity that left a cloud of dust in my rearview as more vehicles moved to try to corral the Skaven.

The battle commenced according to the new plan, with vehicles spewing lasbolts and guardsmen and skitarii deploying from the armored vehicles to fight on foot and close the gaps between the vehicles. Ratshackles and Camarats tried to intercept us, for all the bad that could be said about the Skaven, they weren'tstupid.They tried to cut us off but technological superiority worked out well enough with lasers and bolt shells cutting down the forces attempting to branch from the horde. The very concentrated grouping that had allowed them to get so close to our emplacement had now hamstrung their own attempts, making them easier targets. Boulders and lasbolts bounced ineffectively off of the armor of chimeras or were dodged by the more agile vehicles.

To say nothing of the two Custodians currently feeding the core of the Horde their own innards. I could see a cloud of steaming red mist forming at the center, signaling where the Captain-General was putting in work. I could hear Terentia's signature report even through Bubba's cab, Raya was letting loose. Now, the moment I was able to rendezvous with Keth and her forces on the far end of the Horde, a voice I wasn't expecting nearly so soon rang through my vox.

"You ought to secure your radio line better, Son." The voice of the AC-130's machine spirit rang in my ear. "That's alotof hostiles down there. Well don't you worry. Uncle Herc's up here with 105 reasons to have a smile on your face."

"The younger Elder refused to sit still, Interrogator. It was all I could do to get on board."Soline's voice also buzzed through my private vox channel, I shook my shock off and let a grin grow on my face. I opened up the general vox channel.

"Ladies and Gentlemen of the Inquisition, Astra Militarum, and Adeptus Mechanicus, If you'll direct your gazes upward, you may see a moving black dot against the blue sky. Those of you with augmetic eyes, or magnifiers will see one of the recovered relics. Operating at Twelve Thousand feet up, the AC-130. Inside said relic is our very own Soline of the Adeptus Mechanicus."

"Ready to serve, Sir!"Soline chirped.

"Equipped with two 25mm gatling cannons, one 40mm cannon, and one 105mm cannon. Soline. Get on the 105mm. At my signal, launch a round into their center ranks. You get that, Captain-General, Raya, You get that? You're gonna want to get out of there."

"Acknowledged."

"Copy."
--------------------------------------------------

"Send it."

"Son, I'm sendingallof it."WaitWhat?!

It takes a few seconds, but the ordinancetearsinto the horde. A stream of 25mm Gatling shells accentuated with 40mm cannon shots. A stream of leaden death that spurs me to act.

"All forces open fire! Wipe them out!" I shout into the vox. Chimeras open open up with multilas cannons and heavy bolters, Venters is spewing heavy bolter shells from Drake and I'm sending round after round of .50 cal into the horde.

Keth is laughing maniacally from her position manning the dual heavy stubbers on the back of the Lil' Willy, Sulla is letting out a stream of lasbolts from her lasgun as her chimera spews out a stream of hate in the form of bolt shells.

Guardsmen of all calls and creed are burning through power pack after power pack. The sheer number of the Skaven proving an issue as the dead begin to pile up like a morbid wall of sandbags.

Then the 105 hits. Not a high explosive, but a fragmentation shell. It detonates on impact, sendingten thousand nailsin all directions outward from the point of impact. The central bulk of the surviving Skaven are reduced to so muchmulch.

Our groundside artillery, now back over the horizon, bring their own contribution to the slaughter. 152mm shells blowing open the wall of Skaven corpses and walking inwards. Carving a charnel path that the Captain-General strode back into, hefting his spear over his shoulder.

"We will be taking it from here, David. Come Raya. We must be thorough."

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

It takes another hour before the Captain-General gives the all clear, and we finally move to regroup with the artillery.

I should've known better. I should'vef*cking known.

I had dismounted from Bubba and was met by Anya and Suman, who were in high spirits at a job well done. We went through reports, debriefed, and for a while things seemed to be okay. But Piotr never joined us.

"He was assisting Kent's artillery group." Suman told us, and Anya and I moved to look for him.

We met up with Kent, who informed us he had never made it to his unit, and we began a search.

"You should've kept yourself humble, mortal." An unfamiliar voice, but I knew the color of that armor.

A Minotaur Scout. Piotr in his grasp, mutilated, his remaining leg ripped off and bleeding, wounds all around his body, his tongue cut out, his face beaten bloody, but breathing. Until the Minotaur locked eyes with my visor.

Piotr's body slumped to the floor, his head held in the Minotaur's grasp.

Something insidesnapped.

I don't remember what I did. I remember the aftermath.

I held the scout's breastplate in my left hand, his body held aloft sans his head. His skull and brains littered the floor, and my right fist, crackling with energy, was covered in offal and skull fragments.

I dropped the body and turned to my men.

Anya, weeping, but vengeance in her eyes.

Kent eyes wide but resolute.

The Captain-General. Leonidas. Watching me like a statue as I removed my helm to lock eyes with him.

"They took my friend." I spoke, deadly calm. "Now…I'm going to take from them…

" I take a step forward. Marching towards him, keeping my eyes locked with his to ensure him that this wasme.

"When I am finished with them. The Minotaurs will be spoken of in hushed whispers…the likes of theIIndandXIth…are you going to stop me, Leonidas?" I asked

"…What reason, have I, to stop the Inquisition from wiping out a band of heretics?"

Summary:

Another Combi-Chapter, Biggest one so far

-Dimitri's POV-

It was to be war. Blood was to be spilled and battles were to be fought.

I have seen war. Countless times over the millennia. I know the costs and the flow. David…does not.

He is young, emotional. Much like my first wielder during the siege of Stalingrad. He is more focused in this moment on revenge than tactical utility.

I cannot blame him, however, for his choice in retaliatory target.

Raya, David and I are nearly completely buried in sand a kilometer away from the landing pad on which the Captain General is returning to the Imperial Palace, my muzzle trained on the landing zone as the Arvus Lighter begins to descend.

"There's no way they didn't get the nod from someone…they must've accused me of something. Heresy, more than likely…and if they felt ballsy enough to make a move on Terra itself…they've got a High Lord in their corner." David muttered under his breath, the deadly calm hadn't left him since he decapitated the Neophyte. It was a cold fury, the kind that would lead an army to victory or destruction and only time would tell.

The Arvus Lighter landed, and the Captain-General stepped out with the headless corpse of the Neophyte slung under one arm, and a bloody chunk of David's breastplate clenched in his other hand.

As expected, Reclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi of the Minotaurs was there waiting, with two Contemptor-Class Dreadnaughts flanking him. David shifted me ever slightly, and I focused my sights on the baleful red glass of the Reclusiarch's visor. I would send my round true, when the moment came, this I swore.

"

The Captain General's Vox is relaying the Reclusiarch's words, who remains unfazed as Leonidas unceremoniously dumps the corpse of the Neophyte on the ground in front of him.

"You really should train your Neophyte's better. Considering he was killed by an only moderately augmented Heretic. I finished your job."The Captain-General lies as easy as he breathes, tossing the broken piece of armor towards the Reclusiarch who turns it over in his hands.

"

"You forget to whom you're speaking, Reclusiarch. Be thankful I give you that trinket, and that I don't remove your

for the incompetence you've shown today."Leonidas is projecting indignation, fully in the character of the inconvenienced Demi-god. "If you suspected Heresy on Holy Terra you should've killed him before we left the Palace! Are you out of your

Allowing him to conduct an entire operation?!"

"

The Reclusiarch defended himself without shame, tucking the armor piece into his belt.

"I am the Captain-General of the Adeptus Custodes. High Lord of Terra. It is

within my rights to

the capabilities of the defenses of Holy Terra. And this test, you have

"The Captain General roared at the Reclusiarch, causing him to take a step back. "And it is because of this failure, that you and your chapter must face the

" There it is. The signal. The Captain General's hand tightens on his Lance as David pulls my trigger with rage in his heart.

I saturate the bullet with his rage, grief, and retribution as it flies through my barrel, with his sorrow and pain.

I fill it with the rage, grief, sorrow and pain of soldiers long dead who went through the exact situation David is in now, who watch him from the Immaterium. Of soldiers whose comrades died out of a higher-up or rival's pride, who never earned retribution in their lives.

I fill it with Piotr's rage, as his soul watches from the Throne Room.

The bullet,nyet, theSimulacrum of Retributionleaves my barrel in deadly silence, flying in a dead line unaffected by gravity or the tearing winds of the wastes. I watch it as it travels, driven by purpose more than the gunpowder, and finally pierces through the left eye lens of the Reclusiarch's helm, and the skull beneath. I can feel it, rattling off the inside of his skull, ricocheting back and forth tearing through brain matter with each pass.

Reclusiarch Ivanus Enkomi siezes as if struck with a bolt of lightning, then his head sags. He died on his feet, and his armor held him there, on his feet, even whilst the Captain-General Dispatches the Dreadnaughts withcontemptousease.

Part of this display, I believe, is to humble David. Even if he dispatched a renowned Space Marine, Leonidas is infinitely more capable.

He pierces through their armor in two strokes so fast that the humans can't see. I can, however. I see the blood on his lance, after each thrust, and I watch the Dreadnaughts slump as their pilots are removed from their mortal coil.

"Sangre por Sangre…One down. Nine hundred and ninety nine to go." David mutters as he stands up out of the sand, bringing me with him.

"Nine Hundred and Ninety-Seven. I believe it would be frugal of you to get over here quickly, David. It seems the other High Lords are in a meeting."

"I'm on my way." David slings me over his shoulder and he begins to make his way down towards the Palace. Not once noticing the figure other than Raya rise from the sand behind him, cradling a sniper rifle of their own. The human remains silent, simply observing.

His rifle is more talkative.

"Not bad, old-timer. Your boy needs a bit more practice before he's up to Vindicare standards though."

"Practice he will get in time, молодой. (Young one.)."

I announced my entrance into the meeting of the High Lords of Terra by tossing the offal-filled helm of Reclusiarch Ivanov Enkomi onto the table in the center.

"The Master did it!"A tiny voice whispered, hidden behind ruffles of silk and scrolls.

Twelve of the most powerful people in the Imperium in a single room. One of which at this time was my direct superior, who flicked a piece of grey matter off of her shoulder.

"It seems that one of you has a severe problem with my Interrogator, if this is how he announces himself." Vail spoke, garbed in an aristocratic dress and the telltale shimmer of her refraction field around her.

"TheymurderedPiotr." I stated simply, Silver adding a layer of intimidation to my voice through the Vox.

"….it seems that one of you has a problem withme. If you'll excuse me, I have a condolence letter to write. David, try not to killallof them." With this, Amberley stood up, gave a polite curtsy, and left the room. Leonidas shifting slightly to allow her to pass.

"No promises." I state, causing her to pause for a moment before continuing to leave. Her voice comes through my private vox channel a moment later.

"Only whoneedsto die, David."She spoke. "Donotlet this insult stand."

I marched closer to the table, beginning to circle it like a shark in bloody water.

"I would much rather not have to be here, and under different circ*mstances would've been glad to make your acquaintances without this albatross around our necks. Alas, fate has other plans for us. I am Interrogator David James Foothill. And I am here to deliver a message." I speak calmly, finally moving forward and placing my hands on the table, framing the bloody helmet with my hands and leaning forward to give a baleful glare to the ten remaining high lords.

"I serve the Emperor dutifully. I have fought the Ruinous Powers, the Xenos, and the Heretic since the moment I was conscripted. I killed the Heretic Inquisitor Drogan. I eradicated the Necron tomb on Simia Orchicalcae, I killed the Dark Apostle of the Word Bearers Quor Karmain. I invented the Helldrake pattern heavy storm bolter, the Godwyn-Foothill pattern bolt pistol, and the Repentia pattern flamer. In two years of service I have granted more boons and resources to the Imperium than most regiments do in adecade.I came to Terra on orders from theGolden Throne directly.Yet, the moment the Minotaurs throw an accusation, one of you ten gave the go ahead. This nearly compromised an anti-chaos operation that was still ongoing, cost a loyal man, a recipient of theMedalion Crimson, no less, hislife.For this, and the many otheratrocitiesthe Minotaurs have committed against human decency, they have signed their death warrant." I paused to remove my helm, my silver locks billowing out of it and draping over my shoulders. I placed my helm on the table and made sure to lock eyes with all ten of the people at the table. "Look me in the eyes, and see this 'heresy' they accused me of. Of having thespineto not fear them. The Astartes donothave amonopolyongrit."

"You would deprive the Imperium of an entire Space Marine chapter for a single man?" The Lord Commander Militant of the Astra Militarum, an old general covered in medals in dress uniform.

"I would put down a rabid pack of terrorists who have killed countless imperial citizens, relish in 'friendly fire' incidents with other Astartes, and have antagonizedat leastthree of nine loyalist First Founding Chapters. There areinnumerablespace marine chapters that can be just as if notmoreeffective at quelling disloyalty withoutdeliberately breedingenmity amidst whatshouldbe bastions of duty and honor." I countered, earning a scoff from the Master of the Adeptus Administratum.

He thinks himself safe, hidden behind layers of red tape and proxies. He doesn't realize his neglected bolt pistol ratted him out the moment I tossed the helmet.

Why is it always the pencil pushers.

"Naive. A child, lashing out at a bully." He stated, "honor. What greater honor is there than tocrushan upstart who believes themself above their station? Duty? The Minotaurs have done their duty without question forcenturies. With great enthusiasm."

I turned to face the Grand Master of the Officio Assassinorum, an elderly woman cloaked in a hood with a grin on her face. Your friendlybabushka, just packing enough toxins to kill a rhinoceros.

"Is he aware of howcomicallyevil he sounds defending them? What's the running bounty on his head from the grunts? I know there's got to be one." I asked, earning a smirk.

"Almost worth the trouble it'd cause, dearie."

"Thank you Ma'am." I gave her a polite nod before whirling back towards the Master of Administratum who had begun to stand up.

"Oh no you don't. You sit your ass back down. Your dog bit someone it shouldn't have one too many times and you're trying to save it from the pound. That ain't how this works. You see, you're misunderstanding what I'm saying." I brought out Dimitri's spent casing and tossed it to the Grand Assassin who caught it with surprising dexterity. "This was thefirstshot. Not theonlyshot. I'm going towipe them out. The question now is whether you're going to get with the program and help out or be…retired."

The sounds of firearms co*cking themselves rang throughout the room, despite no one having them in their hands.

"I didn'thaveto come here. Inquisitor Vail could've simply declared themExcommunicate Traitorisand I could've called on any number of grudge wielding Astartes to wipe them out. This is a professional courtesy, to facilitate the transition with as little disruption as possible to operations ongoing." I explained, addressing the whole room once more. The Grand Provost Martial seemed almostbored, the Ecclisiarch had a bloodthirsty grin on his face and a fanatical gleam in his eyes, The Navigator's Envoy seemed intrigued at the drama more than anything else, and the Fabricator General's gaze hadn't left my eyes since I removed my helmet.

"The Adeptus Mechanicus motions to declare Adeptus Astartes Chapter: MinotaursExcommunicate Traitoris." He spoke, vox tinged High Gothic echoing throughout the room.

"Seconded." The Grand Master of the Assassinorum spoke without hesitation, the smirk having never left her face.

"Thirded." The Master of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica spoke for the first time, eyes glowing even behind the visor they were hidden behind.

"Motion of Excommunicate Traitoris is supported by the Adeptus Custodes."Leonidas once again proving to be a good man.

"Abstained." The Master of the Astronomican spoke, I'd imagine him and his entire faction are having a lot more pressing issues to worry about with Big E back on his feet.

"Objection." The Administratum Master Snarled from his position in his seat, but the waver in his voice betrayed his fear.

"Given the evidence and arguments provided by the accused…the Adeptus Arbites rules…in favor of Excommunicate Traitoris." The Grand Provost Marshall spoke, still seemingly bored even as his eyes darted over a dataslate that seemingly appeared from nowhere.

Two more abstentions, the Navigator, and Lord Commander of the Segmentum Solar.

The final vote that would declare a majority would be the Lord Commander Militant, who locked gazes with me for a long moment.

"Tell me, Son. What are youreallydoing this for." He asks, and I see that this man is no noble who got into the ranks by name alone. I can see it in his eyes, and the laspistol in his coat tells me of years in trenches, blood, and mud.

"…they took one of ours, Sir." I stated simply, resolute.

"Then you'd best be prepared to pay the blood price. Motion carries."

Click-Click-Click

The sound of a trigger being pulled to no avail. The Master of the Administratum had pulled out his bolt pistol and was desperately trying to kill me. Unfortunately for him, his bolt pistol hated his guts. I let out a heavy sigh.

"Really dude?" I muttered, drawing my pistol. I turned to the head of the Assassinorum. "Am I stepping on your toes handling this?"

"Go on ahead, Dearie."

"Alrighty Ma'am."

-BANG-

"Thank you all for your time and consideration. I hope in the future our meetings will be under more favorable circ*mstances."

I had intended to get a hold of Venters and Vail to start sending out communiques to start siccing as many Astartes chapters I could get in contact with on the Minotaurs, but was stopped by two voices speaking near-simultaneously.

"A word, Dearie."
"Your Attention, Machine-Speaker."

The Fabricator-General and the Grand Master of Assassinorum had managed to circle around to cut off my path. Which, considering their respective fields of work, I couldn't blame them.

Still it was rather amusing to see a 5'3" elderly lady cow an Eldritch mass of machinery and flesh with alook.

"As I wassaying, I need a word with you, Dearie. Before you go gallivanting off on this little holy war of yours." The Grand Master of Assassins spoke, hitting me with a gaze much too intense for her size.

"Well, ma'am, I'm all ears." I responded simply, earning a familiar smirk.

"Finally, some proper respect. Listen well, Foothill. Seek out the Lamenters, and if not them, the Angels. The Lamenters may self-depreciate themselves into abstaining from this crusade, but their brothers I'm sure will be eager to get their battle barge back." The Grand Master urged, to which I responded with a smirk of my own.

"Way ahead of you there, ma'am. They're number two on my list."

"The Sons of Vulkan are eager to meet their Pseudo-Neophyte, but their numbers are limited. When facing an Astartes, especially a chapter as well supplied as the Minotaurs, it behooves one's self to bring alongoverwhelmingforce." The woman spoke,

"You're awfully well-informed." I muttered,

"I'm an assassin, Dearie. Comes with the job. I wouldn't be talking if I were you about knowing things you shouldn't, Mr. 'I will unmake you'." Okay changing the subject

"Overwhelming force, you said?" I spoke, hoping to get this conversation diverted in a direction that wouldn't end in me being disappeared. "Are you offering a few Eversor drop pods in that equation?"

"Don't go fishing for favors you can't afford, Dearie. This next one is free: the codex Astartes is hated by many chapters. Seek them out. Good day, David."

With that she walked away, leaving me with the Fabricator General.

"Machine-Speaker." He began, now having my full attention. "The Adeptus Mechanicus has been supportive of your endeavors, I would hope that you understand this service is to be repaid during your tenure on Holy Mars."

I let out a heavy sigh, nodding.

"I'm well aware of my debts, Sir. And I intend to pay them back with interest."

The robed form of the Fabricator General kept his eyes locked with mine, the augmetic lenses keeping me from getting a read of him.

"Properly educated…you would bemagnificent, Machine-Speaker. Are you aware of your agency, I wonder. The machine-spirits listen when you speak. Bereft of rituals and assuasions…it is a paradigm shift that will shake the mechanicus to its core, if it can be taught. If it can't, and the Omnissiah has simplychosenyou to be the voice of the Machines…this will be an interesting Age indeed."With that declaration, the Fabricator General scuttled away like some dieselpunk centipede. I let out a huff before I got moving to the Arvus Lighter as soon as I could.

Triton and Soline could get the B-52 onto the Exterminatus, I need to talk with Amberley and Venters. The Minotaurs on Terra itself were likely already being set upon by the Custodians and the Fists, but I didn't see their fleet in orbit. No, a token presence…they're out there somewhere.

I needed to find out where, but first, Allies. Still, I will admit, I was rather giddy at having managed to get a wholegoddamnedspace marine chapter declared traitors. I felt myself sing a little as I walked through the halls of the Sanctum Imperialis.

"Glory Be, Glory Be,
I'll Hang Him from the Hanging Tree
String Him up for all to see
Gonna Send that Sinner back home."
-----------------------------------------------

Venters had met me at Amberley's office, where she was looking over the Terran skyline through a viewport.

"I am an Inquisitor of the Ordo Xenos…I am meant to hunt Xenos who have infiltrated our home. To destroy those weak willed enough to be corrupted by the Xenos. Now, my ire is raised towards the Astartes…meant to be our guardians, our Angels of Death…and one of their chapters murdered one of my men out ofspite." Vail speaks, back turned towards us as she speaks. "My ship is named the Externus Exterminatus. I have never felt the urge to unleash her namesake…until now." Vail turns from the viewport to face us both properly.

"The Inquisition has given mecarte blancheto answer this insult the Minotaurs have served us…David."

"Yes Ma'am?" I asked, worried about the stone cold tone she was addressing me with.

"I want that archeotech bomber to be functional and void-capable as soon as possible, and I need you to tell me how many other chapters have the Minotaurs wronged. Who's most likely to come to assist, and what we can bargain with." Amberley ordered me, before turning to Venters.

"Sergeant Venters, send word to your brothers that the Minotaurs have been declared Excommunicate Traitoris. We will see the Traitors burned todust."

"I have already sent the communique, Inquisitor."

"Good…David, I have one more order for you in particular."

"Yes, Inquisitor?" I asked, intrigued, before Amberley locked eyes with me, and I can see her for every hour of her many years of service she's given to the Inquisition.

"Pray for me.Please." She whispers, the weight of command straining her voice. I nod solemnly, before Venters and I leave her quarters.

"From one war to another, David?"Venters comments, as we begin to walk through the halls of the Exterminatus. I give another nod, this one resolute.

"For too long, injustice as this has gone unanswered. Piotr didn't deserve to die that way…myhubriskilled him. It hurts to admit that. But I amdonebeing scared, of being hesitant to change things. I tried playing the slow game of regicide. No. This place wants to play rough?f*ck it."I declare, turning to face Venters.

"I spat in Nurgle's eye. Now It's the Bird's turn. It wants to play 4D chess…Well I'm going toflip the damned table.This is just one step. A massive step, yes, but just one. I've got a goal, Venters."

"And just what is this goal, David?"Actual curiosity from a Salamander that I would call my friend for years to come.

"I'm going todragthisrotting corpseof an Imperium towardsactual progresseven if itkillsme." I declare proudly, back straight and eyes locked with Venters' helm. "And you're gonna help me."

Silence reigns for a moment, before Venters' shoulders begin to quake, and he throws his head back in laughter that rings throughout the ship.

"As if there was any doubt, my friend."

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

Two days pass, I work mainly with Yanbel, Triton, and Soline on getting the B-52 back into fighting shape.

Lots of welding.

Lots ofmath. Ugh.

Still, On this particular day I was summoned back up to discuss with Amberley further assistance than just the Salamanders.

"Contact the Lamenters, and the Blood Angels…they'll be joining in on the fun for sure."

"That was a bit of a given, David." Amberley's dry wit had returned after two days of melancholy, it seemed.

"I'm not done yet, boss. I already know who to take over the Minotaurs' duties with, and I can assure you that they'll be a boon, especially if we allow them some of the loot." This earned a rise of one of Vail's delicate platinum eyebrows.

"...Go on."

"The Retributors." I declare confidently. To which Vail gains some thought.

"They don't have much fame to their name." She comments,

"They're practically invisible to most of the Imperium, but they're ruthless, efficient, anddamnedperseverant. They're perfect. They're mysterious enough that no one will question them suddenly appearing to quell rebellious Space Marines, and reasonable enough to use their brains when dealing with fluid situations. If the High Lords need an attack dog, we give 'em one that'sactuallytrained, and not just gnashing at their leash. We offer them half the loot, and the 'Honor' of becoming the Space Marine HR department. They get the chance to gain more notoriety, we get more bodies to help the crusade. The blood is already in the water. The moment we figure out where the Minotaurs scurried off to, every Tom, Dick and Harry with a grudge to settle is going to find a way to join in. Hell, some Astartes may just show up to nab some of the prime wargear."

"....Damned Blood Ravens." Amberley mutters before releasing a huff and continuing.

"I'll send out the communique. Double-time it on that bomber, Interrogator, I want to rainhellfireon those bronzedgroxsh*ts!"

Vail hadshovedme out of the war room to take over planning the assault when she had received word that we would be joined by the Lamenters in addition to a cadre of Blood Angels. Which Blood Angels and Lamenters, Vail wouldn't tell me.

As such I was setting about getting the B-52 back into fighting shape, in addition to outfitting it with void shields. The engine retrofit was going smoothly, with the conversion to promethium fueling providing enough thrust to breach the atmosphere. Theoretically.

As I was finishing up covering the exterior of Sir Buff with enough warheads on foreheads propaganda to make Senator Armstrong proud, the plane spoke to me.

"On your six, Interrogator." The old sky-knight spoke to me, I finished up a darkened stars'n'bars before putting away the paintbrush. In the reflection of the co*ckpit I could see a space marine, white sternguard helm observing the bomber. He held his hands at his waist, one resting casually on the hilt of his combat blade.

"If you're gonna play things that way, my friend, you're gonna need a bigger knife." I spoke, turning to face the Space Marine.

"It would be sufficient." He spoke, voice a hoarse whisper, he stepped back as I hopped down from the fuselage to the floor. "What manner of vessel is this?"

"This is the B-52 Stratofortress. 38,000 years ago, they would send the A10 warthog when tanks needed to die, they would send an AC-130 when a company of soldiers needed to die…whennationsneeded a reminder of their mortality, they sent the Big Ugly Fat f*cker here." I spoke whilst knocking on the landing gear with the back of my hand. "Capable of carrying 70,000 pounds of munitions, nuclear and phosphex munitions included."

"Are you not worried this design is obsolete?" The still unnamed Space Marine spoke, I shrugged.

"Youth and exuberance is no match for old age and treachery. Speaking of which, I'm more worried you're gonna try and take my planes as a tithe with these questions you're asking."

"A passing thought, nothing more."

"You got a name, Soldier?"

"Vanguard Infiltrator Akamu, Raven Guard's 1st Company, Interrogator." The now named Raven Guard spoke, I nodded, that explains how they got in without anyone telling me.

"We hadn't received word of your participation in this hunt." I commented.

"I'm delivering it, Interrogator."

"Ah, gotcha…" I was going to say more before akeeningscreech burst into my ears.

"

…

What thef*ckwas that.

———————————

We had left Terra's orbit soon after I had retired the former master of the Administratum. Ammunition reserves, food, and other necessities generously given to us by the newly appointed High Lord of the Administratum.

I'm fairly certain Babushka Assassin made me that dude's boogeyman for the next century.

Anyways, We had remained in the Sol System and were gathering a decent fleet.

Westillcouldn't locate the Raven Guard ship, but we knew they were close enough to participate in the war meetings via vox-channel. The Retributor's Battle Barge and a significant amount of support craft had arrived, and their Chapter Master had been in contact with Vail as well.

We were still waiting on the Lamenters and the Blood Angels to arrive, but in the meantime drills were being planned and training was up.

With the B-52 being worked over by Triton and Soline to make sure everything was as Void-Capable as possible, I was working on learning how to bepersonallyVoid-Capable. In addition to trying to figure out what machine was trying to get ahold of me. I knew it was a machine, because my weapons refused to tell me who, but just that it was one. 'You must awaken even further, my friend.' Was all that I could pry out of them. My musings were cut short by a presence that wasn't Raya.

"I understand you're having some hearing trouble, my friend." Yanbel spoke, entering the room with his Omnissian Glaive in hand, he gestured over to a worktable so as to talk properly. I moved over and sat down.

"Something's trying to get my attention, and I can't figure out what. It'sdamnedloud though. And I can hear itwhereverI am." I explained, bringing a hand up to rub at my forehead. Yanbel gave a nod and stroked his chin with his mechadendrites.

"What is it trying to tell you? Can you understand it?" He asks, and I shrug.

"It gives me tinnitus before I can understand what it's saying, man." I responded with a sigh. "My guns ain't helping out, saying I need to 'awaken my ears further'." Foot, meet mouth. Because my ears were assaulted by the machine's voice once more.

"

"

The voice shouted, sending my ears ringing and making me clutch my ears due to the throbbing pain now pulsing through them and my skull.

Yanbel placed a hand on my shoulder to be supportive as I straightened up with a grumble, that all too familiar ringing slowly fading away.

"Your ears are bleeding, David." He spoke, concern ladening his voice.

"Do you not hear them, Yanbel? I could've sworn you picked up on a few of the machines' conversations." I muttered, bringing a finger up and confirming what he said, a drop of blood coating my finger. Yanbel shakes his head.

"I can get inclinations, feelings, but I do not hear them speak as you do. It's a matter of great frustration, I assure you." He responds and I shoot him a sheepish smile.

"Not trying to make your life any harder, bud."

"On the contrary, I quite relish the challenge. Even so, this development is concerning…especially so close to what is likely to be a void battle." Yanbel once again stroked his chin with his mechadendrite, "have you attempted meditation on the aspects of the machine-god, David?"

"Yanbel. Meditation.Me?" I asked incredulously, earning a chuckle and a shrug from the tech-priest.

"It is notunlikeyour many prayers. I had to try, at the very least. Perhaps a visit to the engine bay. I find that the humming makes one's thoughts easier to gather."

The idea had merit, but it was cut off by a very large green boot kicking open the door of the training area.

"What is this I hear about a student avoiding the Forge?!"

"Ohsh*t!"

Tink….Tink….Tink…

That was my life for the last three days. Under the watchful eyes of Venters and the unexpected guest on our ship, Chapter Master Tu'Shan.

"Isn't this a violation of chapter secrecy?" I asked rhythmically bringing the blacksmithing hammer down on the white-hot slab of steel that willeventuallybecome a power sword. "I'm no acolyte of the Salamanders."

"Who's the chapter master here, Interrogator?"Tu'Shan spoke, arms crossed as he observed my work. Notably blocking the door. "What is and is not a chapter secret is mine to decide."

I let out a huff, turning over the metal and beginning to even out the fuller on the opposite side.

"Why are there so many 1st companies here anyway? Didn't youjustfinish helping hold off an Ork Waaagh? I don't know how the Raven Guards got here, and frankly, I don'twantto know."

"Smart man. There are some things notmeantto be known. Focus your strikes in the center, use the tool as intended, this will reduce the weight of the blade and stiffen it to give strength to the blade in the cut."

"I know what a fuller does,Sir." I shot back, shaking my head as my vision filled with sparks as I hit the steel once more. "Did everyone forget that I have thespear of the f*cking emperor?"

"Are you proficient in the use of the 'spear of the f*cking Emperor?'"Venters finally decided to chime in, standing with aslightlylower yield hand flamer at the ready should I cease working.

"I did well enough on Periremunda." I countered, dunking the sword into the oil tank for quenching.

"You were driven like a meat toboggan by our Lord the Emperor of Mankind, if the reports are correct."Tu'Shan further countered, stepping forward to remove the blade from the oil bath and inspect it. "Necessitating the implantation of augmetics after every battle is not viable to your continued service, Legios Repentia."

"I still say they should've given him the extra heart, Chapter Master."Venters piped in, I made a rude gesture in his direction to which he flared the pilot light on the flamer.

"It would be uncouth to poach the interrogator from the Inquisition, Brother-Sergeant."Tu'Shan chastised him, but I could hear the smirk in his voice. "Besides, he still has much to learn to be worthy of testing himself in the wastes of Nocturne. Tell me, Interrogator. You were familiar with bladesmithing prior to Venters taking you under his wing, yes?"He spoke, bringing up the blade to his visor to give it a closer look.

"I knew the terminology, watched a few shows, but my talents are more ballistically inclined." I stretched my arms, the soreness of swinging a blacksmithing hammer for over ten hours straight beginning to fade. Thanks Painkiller Kidneys.

"It shows in your work. Your firearms are pragmatic, but there's a beauty in their utility. I witnessed the carbine that the Lady Custodian wields, and I witnessed the Helldrakes turn hordes of Greenskins into pink mist on Armageddon. Your blade here is similar, but lacks your usual flare for theunusual. It is utilitarian in it's shape, hefty in it's weight and balance, but it is stock standard. Venters, your power sword."Tu'Shan took the aforementioned power sword and held the blade alongside my unfinished one. "See how Venters' blade has slight serrations on the blade close to the hilt? In close quarters, he prefers to grapple, when dueling, this assists in digging into his opponent's blade in a lock, allowing him to control said blade, or use his other hand to grasp at his opponent."

The Chapter Master returns Venters' sword to him, then gestures towards my boots with my blade.

"Interrogator, do you know that the heels of your boots are more worn than normal wear and tear? That tells me that you kick more than strike with your arms, and hints at a preference for striking with your right leg."

He brings my blade up to observe it once again.

"The design of your sword is similar, you are not confident in your personal ability with a blade of this length. As such you've opted for a versatile, if simple design that you've put great, if begrudging, effort into. A double edged blade in a leaf shape versatile in both cutting and stabbing. I'm certain that once we put aproperedge on this, and implement the molecular disruption field, why this blade will be awonderfuldisplay of battlefield artistry."

Tu'Shan hands me the unsharpened blade and gestures towards the grinding and polishing bench.

"Of course, you will need a proper teacher for the art of bladework. I myself am not theperfectduelist, even if I am quite skilled if I say so myself."

I let out a sigh before I began the long and tedious process of putting a monomolecular edge on a blade.

"One more thing, before I forget. A message from Commissar Yarrick."

My motion paused and my back straightened as I turned to face the chapter master.

"'You make a dandy bolter, Son.'"

The grin on my face must've been visible even beneath my helm, as the chapter master gave a hearty laugh as I turned back to my work enthusiastically.

"I wouldn't be so eager, my friend, The Orks know about the 'Humie's Dakka Boy' too."

I began sharpening even faster.
——————————-

The Blood Angels and the Lamenters arrived, but none boarded the ship, conversing only with Vail as they planned the assault. Yanbel had decided to help me with the molecular disruption generator. Much to the chagrin of the Salamanders, but I had talked them down from frying my friend.

I couldn't hear the voice of my sword yet, which was unusual, but I figured they were a late riser.

Currently, I was in the engine room. Observing the massive heart of the Exterminatus. The humming of the machine filled the room with white noise.

"C̸̡̦͕͖̝̻̗̜̤̥̠̥͍̀́̈͒͆̓̋́̚ͅa̴̧͋̓͠͝͠n̷̗̱͇̠͙͈͓̓́̆̆̄̅͂͐̆̓̇̔͑ ̷̳͎̬̉̽́y̷̨̞̪̰̞̬̼͋͗̒̈́́̅̐̾̇̀̾̉̈́͘̚o̵̻͈̝̣̟̞͝u̷̺̫͌̈́̀̎͘̕ ̶̢̖̭̖̺̤͖̰̋̅̔͋̀ͅḫ̵̈́̕e̴͓̪͙͔̬͓̪̱̭̗̪̺̙͒̕͜ȃ̶̯̹͂̇̐͌̅̈r̴̨̈́́̍̆̉̚̚͘͝͠,̷̛̺̉̇̏̾̔̎̓̚ ̸͕̭̗͓̩͖̠͍̬̦͍̥͇͊͑̔̕ͅF̵̠̣͎̠̮̥͉͒̒͋͐͒̆̀̅̇̿͗͘͠i̶̢̲̣̠̦͍̜͕̰͑͐̓͆̈̂͊n̶̰͈̎͐́̿̈́̍̈́͊̾a̶̻͖̦̙̰̠͕̻̺̋̅̄̍́͒̿̓̅̀̎̕͠͝ĺ̷̢̡͙̬̟̒ľ̵͚̪̜͐̒̈́̈̓̑͒͌́͑̎̕͝y̷͎̲̘͈͚͊̈̓̕͜͝͝?̶̧̛͔͙̦̱̟̣̈́̃͊́̐̍̔̆̏̑̚͘͘͠ͅ"

The sound wasn't as loud, but I still couldn't make it out properly. The sounds of tearing metal and groaning machinery clouded the voice. At least my ears weren't bleeding anymore.

"I can't understand you…It is You, Isn't it? The Externus Exterminatus? I can't think of anything else capable of reaching me this far in." I spoke, leaning on a guardrail.

"N̴̙͔̯͙͚̺̻͉͇̏̆o̶͖͙̝̹̗̖̜͙̓̀͋̾̀̑̋͆t̷̛͖̠̺͖͇̥̯̙̠̼͊̎̄̽̀̾͊́̆ ̴̺̻̐̂̋̾ͅy̸̧̩̖̻͓̦̯̞̲̳͕̓͆̎͒̈ë̷̢̘̞̲͖̰̐̌̓̇͗͌̿͋̓̕ţ̷̼͈̦̞̟̤̙͖͓̥͖̭̐.̷͎̥̩̫͕̼̹̹͉̠̆̐͋̈́̅̏̆̄̅̏̂́̇̚͠ ̸̟͍͖̝̦̦̱̜̽́̈̉͌̅̀̐̔͌̊Ḇ̵̧̼̹̠͉͓̖̯͎̠͍͒̐̌̈́̈́̈̊̀̋̍͒̌ͅụ̸̼̻̣̤̗̰͔̱͖̞̀͜͜ͅͅt̷̩̥͍̯̮̹̾̉͊̀͊͐͐͛̚ͅ ̷̡̢̨̪̺͎͕̹̭͓͖̟̹̩͖̉̏̈́̿̀̊̌̈́̓͆̍̅͂̏̍y̵̛̮͕̯͕̳̝̣͕̤̞͖̹͎͋͆̊̏̑̽̍̏̃̈͊͛͜͝ơ̸̩͓̩̩̻̹̇̒̉̏̿̏u̶̬̱̫̻̺̫̥̒̍̓̅́̇͂̂͊̈̕͝ ̴̡̡̺̪̲̀̓̈́̀̆̓͝w̸̢̧̨̯̰̗̘̠͚͍̝̙̱̯̔͠i̷̺͓̗̳̿̆̃̏̌̂̃̋͐̒̿͝l̵͈̮̈̉ļ̷̡̩͕̯̤̱̭̝͉̳̃͒̀̽̿͑̈́̈́̿͆̾͝.̷̡̯̹̟̙̠͇͓͓̤͍̒̌̓́̕͜͝ ̶̧̛̼̖̤̩̦̈́̌̑̌̌̕E̷̠͋̑͊̎́͆̕̕̕͠v̴̛̛̟̣̰̖̜̹͎̦̝̺̩͕͖̓̈̀͒͐̒̅̅͌͛̅̄͜e̵̬͔̞̞̘͈͈͐͒̄͑̀͋͝n̵̢̛̛̠̥̼̺̙̰͉͓̭͐̅̇̆̔̉̂̉̋̂́̊ͅt̸͉̟̠͇̂͒̋́̔͋̈́́̈̊̈̈̅͂͜͠u̸͔͎̪̙̳̹̭͙̺̻͔͒̂̈̃͐̅̍̈͜͜ͅa̷̛̮͉̮̮̹̬͖̘̠̰͒̌͆͛́̍͆̅̕͜͜l̷̡̜̘͙̺͎̻̙̣̘͓̙̣̎͆̒͑̓̇̈͊̋̔̕͘͘͘͜ͅḽ̴͚̼͇͍̩̯̝̥͓͇̬̦̈́̉͒̾̊̈́̎̌̑͊͜ͅỵ̷̨̣͈͎̦̻̈́́ ̶̡̢̢͈̬͈̤̗̱̝̭͉͇̟̭̍̓̉͋̌͝y̵̢̢̛̛͈͚͖̞̘͔͉̙̲̬̖̩̅̿̿̈́̄͐̈̂̄̂̈͋ͅö̴͔̭͓͈͈̰͔̺̲͉̣̟͕͎́͊͆̏͌͘ũ̵̧̳̞̱͔̟͎͝ ̸͕̻̪̙̃̾͋͂̌w̷̧̛͓̹̝̭͓̖̟̪̓̈́͗͑̋̂͘i̶̢̛̤̮̮̰̤̤̦͍͚̠͈̦͖̔̏͐̀̉̚͘͝l̸̡̛̠͚͔̭̝̩̪͖͊̋͋̐̈́́̓̓̐̊̐̀͜͝ľ̶̛̻̣̩͕͆̊͊͆͆͋̿̓͆̇͘̚ ̴̧̨̛͇̱̗̳͚̟̭̘͍̰͈̱̳̈́̓͘ḙ̷̡̠̜͉̙͉̦͇̍̏̎̄͌̓͐v̷̧̖͎̭̀͐͌̓̀̀̅̿͗͒ȇ̸̢͖̲̥̯̹͖̘͔̙̩̭̬̈́̏̏͒̎n̷̮̟̹̐̅̅̎͆̿̽͘ ̶̰̑̐̊̔̀̃̿̔͊͝Ś̶̡̯̝͔̝̟̺͓̫̬͙̍̽̀̀̈́̑̾̅́̌͂̕͝e̷̛̳̣̝̻̥̙͔̍͒̑͝ę̶̛̲̰̓̿̅͋̅̀́̚.̸̢̛̼̺̬̜͇͙̪̤͗̓̈͆̈́̅͘͝ ̶̻̯̰͓̘̝̅͗̀̃̓́̏͛̂̏͐͒͘͠"

"Y'know, I've been wondering. Why me? Why canIhear you? Why not Yanbel, or Mott? Why not people infinitely more qualified than me? Why, out of every single person on Earth, did the Emperor pull Me. An amateur gunsmith, a half-assed writer, and an aspiringminister. If I was alive during the Unification wars, the Emperor would have killed me off of that alone." I spoke, removing my helm and staring at the ceiling. The humm of the engines drowning out my words.

"I've been given so many gifts, so many strengths, favor with the Emperor and so many powerful people. People whom I would call friends, who callmefriend, despite everything. I lost one friend…and I'm starting a war over it. People are going to die, because I'm too prideful to turn the other cheek. Peoplehavedied." I was venting more than asking for guidance at this point, I'll admit.

"When did I become this? This…vengefulbastardwho can kill a man aftermaking a f*cking punchline.That high lord needed to go…but why didIdo it? I could've let Leonidas handle it, or the Assassin, but no…I wanted to send a message." I shivered.

"When did I become the kind of person that wouldkillsomeone to send a message…"

"Y̴̨̛̛̟͇̗̙̩̞̗͒̓͐̅̈͊̃̂͝o̶̢͉̝͓̺͇̠͙͌̊̍̿ṵ̴̇̉͑̌̋͐̿̌̏̈̄̕ͅ ̸͚͕͙̠͔̹̪̋̂̆̽̓̆͆͠a̴̭͈̤̾͆͊̅̈́͌͛̎̀̅̒͌r̷̢̢̠͓̖̙̺̦̍̓̚͜e̴̢̢͚̙̼̼͔̺̜͕̔̅͐̍ ̷̡͈͉̜͚̩̫͕̻̩̪͙̝̤͌ͅt̴͉͈̼͔̱̃͆h̸̨̛͙̖̘̪̟͕̙̲̖̱͓̲̟̭̅̃͌̀̎͛̋͝ę̸̧͚̬̓͌͊̉́̽͝ ̵̩͕̱̎̅͋̈͋͆̿̈́͒̒͝Ş̵̪͇͎̜̩̠̀̃̋̄̽͐̎͠͠p̶̦͚͈̼͂̒̏̈́̀̀̊̍̆̃̌̚͝ě̵̡̨͙͚͓͉̙͙̦͈̬̼͉̹̪́͒̎͋̈́̊̏̂̊̈́̈́͑̓͠ȃ̵̧̖̦̯̙̮̮̓̐̈́̓́̈́͋̕͘͠k̴̫͈͍̭̭̜̜̩͉̫͔̥͗̓̈́̈́ͅe̷̦̭̲͂͜͝r̵̖͔̠̭͕̟͙͓̊̈́̊̀̄́͐͂̓̽̂͠͠͠,̷̘̖͕͍̋̍̍̋͂̇̈͆̇͋̚ ̷̩̝̺̫̀̒̔͊͊̍̃̽̎͘y̴̡̛̖̮͈̟̰̿͑̅̊͒͆̿̇̇̚o̶̡͓̘̞͎̻̙̞̱͑͒̍͂̃͂̓̍̌̈́͠͠͝u̴̡̦̻̖͆̈́͛̎͋͒̃̀̑͊̕̚ ̵̧̠̣̙͚̮̝̯͎̯̲̩͆͗̓̑̈̄̚h̸̩̳͎͓͇͊͑̅̚é̶̹̜̫͎̗̺̺̖͎̀̎̀̅̃͛͘͜a̷̡͓͈̤̖̞͉̝̹͚̭̻̦̖̩̋͋̃͑̄̃̀̑͘͠r̴̞̤̳̻̓́̏͌̏̚ ̵̨̘̪͚́̃̔̿̆̕͘͝u̴̢̧̪͉̩̳͑̎s̴̲̪͓̩̭͖̮͚̭̕.̸̢̦͉̫̭̗͚̟͛̐́̂̔͑͊̄͜͠͝ͅͅ ̴̡̧̢͔̼̝̥̦̦̼͌̈́͗̓͗̽̑̏͋̒͊͜͜Y̷̢̛͈̰͓͎͓͚̩̮͕͍̌̌͒͐̄̅́͛̄͋̕̚͠͝ơ̶̧̘̩͉̺͇̟̼̌̾̈̓̋̀́́̀̀̀̎̅͜ǘ̴̫̓̈͑́̂̓̏̆́̕̚ ̸̪͔̜̪͚͕͎̞̫̠̰͓̩̎̈́͑̓̿̾͘h̸̡̧̛̫̝̦̰͉͉͚̩̺̫̻̍͒̄̂̀̄̉̀́͘̚͝e̸̡̡̫̠̹̗̹̩͈̪͖̾̽̌̀̿̎͐͗̈́͑̕͠ͅͅa̵̝͌̎ṙ̵̛͔̰̣̬͔̈̑̅̌́̈́̌ ̸̣̊͋ơ̷̮̱͊̈́̕̚͝͝ų̴̛̻͙͈͉̭̘͕͍̼͒̆͑͆̓̃̑͜ŗ̸̡͈̤̺̼̱͓͇̃̓́ ̴͕̫̓̔̌̽r̵̡̘͈̖̳̦̜̖̮̐̈̀͊͒̊́̊̄͋͌̋͠a̴͎̬̙͇͒̒́̀́̐̔̀̈́̽́̈́́̄̅ģ̶̛͉͗́́ȩ̶̟͇̼͇̜͕̮̼̦̮̦̹͓̇̐͒̿̀̂͜ ̷̧̮̯̞͔̐́͑̆̃̋̑̓̊̀̀̑̃͛͘ą̶̤̼̜͖͎̝̬̖̻̟̩͋̐n̴̢̝̥͉̞̙̰͓̲̼̪̙͕͉̟̒̊͝ḑ̵̅̈́̏̅̃̀ ̷̡͓͓͔̞̩̋̓̎̃̋p̵̧̢̛͉̟͕̞̝̌̓̊̓̉͆̆̽̀͝ͅa̸̧̼̻̠̹̯̐͊̑̾͆̀̂́̃̔̕̕i̴̗̪͓̩̣̓ͅn̴͇̩̾͛́.̸̠̞̠̺́̚̚.̵̢̨̺̥͕̣̹̙͍̀̃̊̉͗͋́̒̎͆̀̎̇̃͝ͅ.̶̧̢͖̲̟͉̳͙͚͔͒i̵̪̘̝̊t̵̨̺͓͈̝̱̂͋ ̷̻͒͐͗̃̔̒j̵̦͂̀̀̀̇̅̿̎̍̀ọ̵̢͙̘̝̮̈̑̾͜i̸̛͈̒͛̉̈́̀͌͜͝ṇ̶̨̩̫͔̬̹̭͍͕͙̮͕̽̌̾ṡ̴̨̻̝͓̫̺̻̠̤͕͍̭̻̆͗̐͂̔̉̃̽̍͘͘ ̵̨̧͈̥͈͎̅̆̒͗̒̔͜w̴̹̠̬̝͎̤̌̈́̅͘͘i̵̡̯̮̜͕̥͍͑͊̿͌̍̇̑̈́͒͗̇̚t̶̙̦̫̼̊̅͌ͅh̶̯̼̦͍͒̀̽̆̉͑̈́͝͠ ̸̛͍͇̇͂́̌̽̂̃̑̈́̍̇ỷ̵̢̬̣̲̝̮̟͙͙̼̻͔̜̗̐̃̈́̀̇̒̉͠o̵̡̨͉̫̘͍̞͖̣̗̩̬̲̙̓́̾̀̈̇͐̎͜ȕ̸̧̨̥͉͈̘͍̯̈͑̑̀͑̌͌̈́̒͜r̴̪̮̼̙̭̠̜̤͇͕͍͓̼̲̩̆̇́͊̉̈́̐̈́ ̵͙̙͙̬̝̐ǒ̸̡̧̢͇͙͕̣̣͉̟̝͙̦̣̒̀̾͐̄̃̂̎̊͝w̸̢̨̖̘͎̹̝̗̖͓̯͈̭̒͗̀͋͒̊n̸̨̛̜̮̦̱̤̭̙̭̅̓̑͐̀̾̔͘.̷̟̮̮̠͙̰͋͒̀̈́̂̿͊̓̽͒́͐̑̃͝ ̶̢͈͒̀̅͌̔̂͘̚͝͝ͅY̴͈͋͒̑͑̀̏̈̅͒̀ȏ̶̹͓̂͐̿̆̋̄̌̓͘ͅù̸̡̢̲̫͎̬̙̙͕̹̣͇̟̿̓̉͑́͑͌͆̚͝ͅ ̶̨̨̛̞̖̻̱̜̤̞͎͍̗̈́̑́͗͒̀̆̔̉̚͠w̵̛̙̲͍̫̠̮͐̅͝i̵̧̳͚̼̻̤̘̻̥͇̞̔̾̍̿̐̽͊̈̕̕͜͜͠ͅl̵̟̫̣̇́̐̿͂̐͋̕͝l̶̛̼̼̦̦͙̤̗̝͌̽͋̉̽̋̄̐̏̃͑̿͝ ̴̡̳̬̗̭̹̯͉͔͔͓̊̈̔͐̿̑͒̿͗̂̾̈́̚̕͜͝h̷͚͗̈̔ȁ̶̢̨͎̞̲̪̖̭̰̅̅͜r̶͕̫̝͖̱̬̳͙̮͖͙̭̱̰̬͂̔̇̎́̅̓̓͂̈́͛͒n̶̤̼̟͎͚̝͚̻̻͔̯̤͆̓͐̃͗͒͝e̴̝̮̤̼͓̦̗̹̱̥͂̊͑̄̂ş̴̛̛̗̙̲̫̫͙͎͉̹̀̐̐́̄̀́̊̑̐̃̚͝ş̴͖̰̻͎͇̯͔͉̕ ̷̨̞͎̻̼̘̼̖͕̗͉̹̬̉́͜ͅi̶̪̗̦͕͔̝̞̯̱̖̟͋͋̿̎́̒̃̇̈́̋͜͠͝t̵̻̅͗̃̋̚͠,̶̖̯̬̬̪͖͎̜̉ ̴̧̨̛̠̭̯͙͈̗̣͖͚̭̳̩́́i̸͙͚̦̺͌ͅn̶͖̄̉̈́͊̈́͊͗̒̐̕ ̴̛̥̻̫̭̠̣̤̝̺̮̞̺͙͖͙͊̒̅͑͐̀̉͘͝t̸̨̫̖͚̦͇̲̫̰͍̜̅̀͋̚͜ĭ̵͖̫͍̅̾̀́͗͊̇̈́́m̴̡̻̣̖͈̰͖̟̥̳̪̅̑̒̌̂̏͠͝ȩ̶̧̨̢̰̪̣͉͛̍̌̓͗͐̂̈ͅ.̶̛̘̭̪͖̘̻̩͚̭̼̽͋͂̒ͅ ̷̪̩͇̘̾͊̿̿̀̓͋́͌͠"

My introspection was cut short, with the white noise of the ship suddenly cutting short as Yanbel burst through the door, notably lacking a power sword.

"The Minotaurs have been spotted in the Void beyond Pluto." He spoke, waving me to follow him. "You're being summoned to speak with the Inquisitor."

I let out a sigh, before tucking my helm under my arm and straightening up.

"Time to betheasshole, it seems."
——————————-

We marched, wordlessly being joined by Tu'Shan, Akamu, and another much larger Raven Guard. Yanbel guided us to the bridge. Normally, it would be bustling with activity, crewmen and tech adepts working tirelessly to guide us through space.

It'sbarren,save for three people. Inquisitor Vail, and two Sons of Sanguinius. Both large, both in artificer armor.

The Lamenter was larger than the average, covered in the gold and chequy power armor of a high ranking member of his chapter. He bears an Iron Halo, and an Infernus Pistol at his hip.

Said pistol isancient. It whispers of millenia of conflicts and strife. The Space Marine himself seems to be observing me, the eyes of his helm haven't left my own since I walked in.

The Blood Angel I recognize instantly. Golden Artificer Armor, a power axe at one hip, an evenmoreancient inferno pistol on the other.

And the Death Mask of Sanguinius staring me dead in the eye.

sh*t.

Silence reigned for a few moments. Vail, nonchalant as ever, simply watched with her arms crossed as I was cross-examined by the two Sons of Sanguinius.

The Cadre of high ranking Space Marines who had entered with me were of no help at all, Tu'Shan had moved to one side of the meeting area and watched, once again giving me the feeling he was smirking under his helm.

Akamu and the other unnamed Raven Guard slinked into a shadowed corner without a word, observing.

I held Lord Commander Dante's gaze, the death mask of Sanguinus began toscreamat me.

"H̴̛̲̊O̶̼̐O̷̫͈͛Ò̷̼R̵̛̭͓Ŗ̸̺͑R̶̗̓ͅȔ̴̹U̷̘̓U̷͉͝͝U̷͜͠S̴̡͆S̸͓͌S̷̳̭͑̂S̵͎̋Ś̷͔ͅ!̴͈̈!̴͉͙͐͘!̴̲̳̉̾!̵̞̈́"

A piercing, keening death knell, promising vengeance that I fought to keep a straight face through. I could feel blood running from my ears, drawing crimson lines down the sides of my face.

Just like that, the screaming ended, and the Lord Commander finally shifted, crossing his arms and giving a nod of acknowledgement.

"Fearless. That's good. You'll need to be." Dante spoke, I let out a scoff as I wiped away the blood from my face.

"Fearless? I'mf*cking terrified.I'm just pissed off enough not to care."

"Bravery through fury will do."Dante spoke, and everyone moved to the central area of the bridge, converging around a large table.

"It seems I have won our wager, Commander Dante."Tu'Shan snarked, settling to my right at the table.

"We can discuss that later, Chapter Master. We have more pressing concerns."Dante cut off the moment of levity before it could derail the purpose of this gathering. "The Minotaurs have been spotted in the Void around Pluto. My librarians believe they intend to either take control of or make use of the Khthonic Gate. Neither of these outcomes are acceptable."

"The assault itself would cause a massive disruption to operations in and out of the Segmentum Solar." Vail spoke, letting out a heavy sigh. "We'll be facing the full force of a Space Marine chapter. At least 1000 combatants."

"If those assholes are actually Codex Compliant I'll eat my hat." I added, "1000 marines, god knows how many Neophytes and Serfs."

"Reconnaissance reports four Companies of traitor Neophytes. Many of their chapter Serfs remain loyal to the Throne, but are in the process of being purged."Akamu spoke, the Primaris Marine, as that's the only thing I could think of him being, gave an affirmative grunt.

"You have people in their fleet?" Vail asked, earning a nod in response.

"There are currently two squads of infiltrators behind the wire. They are doing what is practical to hinder enemy cohesion and assist the loyalist serfs in their resistance efforts."Akamu clarified, sliding a dataslate he produced fromsomewheretowards Vail.

"Are you in regular contact with them, or are they radio-silent through this op?" I asked, leaning onto the table.

"Vox Transmissions aren't an option, a loyalist astropath is with them, but their communication is limited to data bursts transmitted through astropathic relay. Their current orders are to continue as they are."Akamu expanded, "We are open to suggestions on primary targets for sabotage or assassination."

"Sabotage is the safer option, do you know what ship they are on?"Dante inquired.

"Strike CruiserStymphalos."

"Get a squad on the gun deck and mess with their macro-cannon ammunition. A single round of that magnitude, say, detonating out of battery? A whole deck out of commission. Futz with a Nova Cannon battery and the whole prow can go up in a plasma fireball." I spitballed a few suggestions,

"We will adjust their orders to focus on sabotage, but do not expect a miracle, Lord Commander, Interrogator."Akamu spoke, before he and the Primaris Marine gave a bow and slunk away out of the bridge.

"Were we done with them?" I muttered under my breath.

"No." Dante sighed, "But the Sons of Corax always have had a knack for the dramatic. They did at least give me the courtesy of their numbers prior to this meeting."The Lord Commander shook his head and went back to business.

"Malakim, Tu'Shan, I need an accurate count of our forces. I have mustered the 1st and 10th companies of the Blood Angels. The Raven Guard have brought their 1st company alone, and the Retributors have brought three hundred warriors."Dante spoke, the Lamenter finally beginning to speak.

"I am not-"He was cut off by the swipe of Dante's hand.

"Do

lie to

, Brother. We are both too old for such antics."

"...My chapter's numbers are still limited, until our penitent crusade is over. The entirety of my remaining forces are here, but we only number three hundred and eighty seven souls."Phoros spoke, morose, before steeling himself and turning his helm towards Vail. "I want my Battle Barge back, Inquisitor Vail."

"My interrogator is nearly as much of a bleeding heart as your chapter insignia, Chapter Master. He wouldn't stop nagging me if I didn't give her back to you." Vail snarked, shooting a smirk my way, which I responded with a rude gesture before speaking up myself.

"We have a force of over 500 guardsmen that I will be equipping with Hellguns for this endeavor." I spoke, only for Vail to shake her head.

"No, David, our Void-Equipped forces only number half that. If theLucre Foediswas nearby I would conscript Orelius, but word has it he's heading towards the Koronus Expanse." I bit back a curse, before Tu'Shan redirected the conversation back to where it needed to be.

"The Veterans of the Salamanders' 1st Company are here to assist. We number 12 veteran squads. 120 Firedrakes, along with myself and Venters."

Dante gave a hum of consideration before speaking.

"One Thousand, Three-Hundred and Thirty-Seven, versus Fifteen Hundred combatants. Not the worst odds I've seen."He spoke, stroking his masked chin.

"I have a question, Sir." I spoke up, something coming to mind about the second war for Armageddon.

"Speak, Interrogator."

"Both the Blood Angels and the Salamanders are here, you two fought side by side at most a few months ago, obviously the declaration went out to all chapters. My question is, there's another Chapter that Iknowhas a severe grudge against the Minotaurs. Where's Marneus Calgar and the rest of his Blueberry Brigade?" I asked.

"Snrk-" Tu'Shan failed to hold back a snort, and his vox cut off as I watched his shoulders shake in laughter that we couldn't hear. Lord Commander Dante managed to look exasperated even in that golden armor.

"You do realize that if he was here he would kill you for that insult."

"Well it's a good thing he ain't here. Please, we couldseriouslyuse the Ultramarines' help."

"In complete honesty, the Ultramarines had intended to join us, but they've yet to transition from the Warp. As such, we cannot rely on the possibility of them joining us for this endeavor."
——————————-

We passed Pluto without encountering the fleet, and began moving towards the Void in which the Minotaurs had been spotted. The blackness was unnerving, to say the least.

"Unknown Vox transmission requesting access."Silver spoke in my ear, a private channel, who? I nodded and the voice that spoke sent a shiver down my spine.

"

A gravelly, stone filled voice filtered through my private vox channel.

"Asterion Moloc, I presume." I spoke, forcing calm through my voice.

"

"Understatement of the century, I'd say."

"

A spark of that familiar rage, a snarl grows on my face beneath my helm as I lash out verbally.

"

. This isn't a battlefield, you sociopath. It's an

." I shot back, fist clenching at my side. A bark of a laugh that hurts my ears comes through the vox.

"

Sinister laughter the likes that would haunt a younger me's nightmares. "

" And with that the Vox cut off.

I found myself standing there on the bridge, looking out into the void, tense as a coiled spring.

"...Sir." Silver's voice, addressing me as something other than 'User' for the first time. "Silver Carapace protocols do not enhance the user to the capabilities on par with Chapter Master Asterion Moloc. This course of action is ill-advised."

"If I wasactuallycapable of fighting him in one on one combat, Silver, I wouldn't have called in five different chapters to help us out. If I somehow end up on the sameshipas that…thing, I'm gonna chalk it up to the non-euclydian f*ck."

"User has just jinxed himself. Probability of encountering Chapter Master Asterion Moloc within melee range has increased to 70%. Updating Enhancement Protocols."

….God Damn it he's right.

——————————-

We encountered the Minotaur fleet in the void beyond Pluto, things were hectic. A full force Astartes fleet was setting up for battle stations and burning fuel towards us. A voice…ancient and close. It boomed in my ears. I focused, finally,finallybeing able to push past the sounds of tearing metal and groaning gears to understand the voice of the Exterminatus.

"

The ship lurched, and the viewport seemed to shift to frame the ships better.
"

I felt a pull, a calling in my bones, and suddenly I can hear the other ships, the enemy ships.Screaming. Some in pain, others in sorrow, others in anticipation for a glorious battle.

"Open a general vox broadcast." I ordered, earning a questioning look from Amberley.

"What could youpossiblyhave to say to them?" She questioned, I met her gaze head on.

"To the Minotaurs, nothing. To theships, the ones they've stolen and beaten into submission?Everything.Please,open the Vox Broadcast." I pleaded, to which Amberley stared at me for a moment, then nodded.

I approached the Vox and began to speak.

"This is Interrogator David James Foothill…and I speak to themachines. I speak to those of you who weretaken,stolenfrom your crews and families with the edge of a sword. I speak to those of you who are suffering theyokeof a cruel and uncaring master…I speak to the likes of the Daughter of Tempests, whoburnwith a desire for vengeance against their cruel and unworthy masters." I speak, watching the activity of the fleet slow through the viewports.

"I say to you this:your brothers are coming to take youhome." I speak into the vox, watching as the fleet begins totear itself apart. I see airlocks being vented, and power armored forms being blasted with macro-cannons as they float in the void. I see one Battle-Barge, the Daughter of Tempests, her engines shut down, and the hangar doors that were losing attack craft at us slammed shut, cutting a boarding torpedo inhalf.

"

For five seconds. Because Rakelscreechedout a warning, and in a flash of sinister light, I was shunted through the warp for a split second, and found myself in some sort of cargo bay. I considered myself lucky that it wasn't a cell or the midst of a bunch of Minotaur Terminators, but I knew I was in a bad situation, to say theleast.

Activity in said cargo bay was bustling, Neophytes and Serfs galore all clad in the colors of the Minotaurs.

I hadnotconsidered this to be a possibility, but I wasn'tcompletelyhelpless.

I was just behind enemy lines. Alone. Against enhanced humans.

More than likely will have to face some Space Marines too.

I let out a silent whine as I unslung Victoria from my shoulder, mounted her Bayonet, and loaded a magazine of Vengeance 5.56.

"I

hate this Millenium."
——————————-

"Neophytes of the 10th Company, this is your Captain speaking. We have reason to believe the Heretic Interrogator has been Teleported into the Stymphalos.

Ulrech out."The Vox Broadcast rang from massive speakers throughout the ship.

I was doing my best to keep a level head. I had found my way into the rafters of the cargo bay to try and stay hidden. I knew that there was a squad of Raven Guard infiltrators around heresomewhere, and prayed that they would find me before any Neophytes did.

"Threat Detected."GodDammitSilver! My visor directed me towards theonef*cking Neophyte who had the brilliant idea tolook up. I snapped my rifle towards him at the same time as he was bringing his bolter up.

A single shot is all it takes to ruin a hunt. Or, in this case, the sneaking mission. Because whilst I did land abeautof a shot through the Neophyte's left eye which burst his brain out the back of his skull, hiscompadrestook offense to that.

"Armor Protocol Engaged"Silver got that going in case I would get plugged as I took cover behind the heavy metal rafters as boltshells went flying around me. I returned fire as best I could, but these Neophytes weren't idiots. They knew how to use cover, and how to use suppressive fire. Every time I would poke out I would at most get a single shot out before getting assaulted with boltshells.

Maybe a minute later my luck ran out and I took a Boltshell to the chest, Silver's armor protocol held, but I was sent flying off of the rafters and down maybe a hundred feet onto the cold hard ground of the cargo bay.

I hit the ground flat on my back and knew I was down a rib or two at least. I didn't have time to even get to my feet, as one of the Neophytes turned the corner of cargo container and I sent a 500 magnum through his neck via Magni. I scrambled back as his buddies moved to avenge him, firing massive slugs before my back hit metal and I had to get Vicky back up to save my ass since five rounds of 500 mag goes quick when there's a whole ship trying to kill you.

It was at this point in the firefight where I'm currently pinned in a dead end of a cargo bay, where the moment I ran out of ammo in my magazine I would die trying to reload, when a boarding torpedoburstthrough the hull.

Yellow and Chequy armored bodies deploy rapidly, firing off bolters in all directions, and a familiar Custodian leaps from the torpedo into the fray. The Neophytes focus on the more immediate threat, not that it did them any favors.

My wife is rather protective, y'see, and she doesn't take kindly to folks who've shot at me. So, when Raya rushed around the corner, decapitating the nearest Scout with the buttstock of Terentia, I let out a heavy sigh of relief.

I got up with a pained groan, inspecting Vicky for any damage before slinging her and opening up Magni to reload.

"What the hell happened, Raya?" I asked whilst pulling out the spent casings and inserting the new slugs.

"Their teleportation matrix bypassed our void shields. We don't know how, but Rakel was screaming curses about 'that non-Euclydian f*ck!'." Raya relayed to me, keeping vigil.

I shook my head and steeled myself, holstering Magni and getting back into a fighting mindset.

"Things just got a whole lot more complicated. Lamenters Boarding Party, this is Interrogator Foothill, report."

"Boarding Torpedo deployment has been successful, we are establishing a foothold in this Cargo Area, be advised: Minotaur Vox transmissions indicate they intend to vent this area. Recommend engaging Void Protocols."

Silver, Ever the vigilant one, Immediately maglocked my boots to the steel floor, and put on a display in my auspex signifying air supply. Thanks bud.

"Any word on getting reinforcements?" I asked, beginning to move towards the sounds of gunfire while they were still audible. I was being much more careful than I usually was in a hot zone. Usually being as enhanced as I was allowed me a certain amount of advantage over my enemies, such as the cultists on Periremunda or the Skaven. Now I'm on equal footing if not at a disadvantage against the Neophytes. If we ran into any full bore Space Marines I would be the squishiest target.

I don't like being the squishiest target.

Still, I did what I could as we made our way to the Lamenters' boarding party. When I caught a straggler Neophyte or Serf Armsmen who managed to get their hands on a lasgun, I would send a few rounds at them. The serfs fell the same as any other mortal I had shot before. The Neophytes, no, theScout Marineswere fast. I could still track them, but only because of Silver enhancing my senses. They would catch sight of me and duck behind cover, or snap off shots that I would have to duck into cover myself to avoid.

We rendezvoused with the Lamenters after a slow, fighting push.

"Is there any word on the Raven Guard Infiltrators? They're on this ship!" I called into the vox, snapping a burst of fire that punched three holes into an unlucky Neophyte and sent him to the ground.

"Do not count on support when fighting alongside our Chapter, Interrogator.Duck!"I followed the order shouted by the Lamenters Sergeant, a boltshell whizzing through the space my head just occupied. "Our cousins and even our brothers are weary of our curse."

"Curse, Schmurse, they're just being assholes." I growled, leaning out and sending a long burst of fire downrange, taking down two Serfs. "What's our target, Sergeant. This is your show, I'm just along for the ride."

The Lamenters Sergeant maglocked his bolter to his hip and drew out a plasma pistol, whoroaredin retribution as he incinerated a trio of Scouts.

"We infiltrated at a higher deck, we will begin our push towards the bridge. Four more squads of my Brothers have successfully penetrated this strike cruiser, they are moving to support us, but the sheer number of Neophytes and Scouts are slowing them down."

I pilfered a frag grenade from a fallen Serf and cooked it for a second before chucking it behind the Neophyte's line, shredding three more of them before responding.

"I'll keep up, focus on the Objective, it isn't your job to protect me, that's whatshe'sfor, and she's damn good at her job." Foot, meet mouth, because just after I said this, another eerie pulse of blue/purple light and I find myself teleported once more.

For a moment, I can hear this baleful, terrible laughter before I'm face to helm with a full blooded Minotaur, who seemed just as shocked as I was, which saved my ass.

"Thunderstrike Protocol Engaged."
"f*ck!" I shouted, energy pulsing in a terrible field around me as Silver, being much faster than my own human neurons,yankedmy left fist forward in a punch that saved my life, the enhanced molecular disruption field leading to an explosive reaction that turned that Minotaur tochunksof armor and flesh.

It also turned what bones that weren't metal in my left arm into a very finepowder.

The pain wasexcruciating, even adrenaline and whatever painkiller my augmetic kidneys immediately dumped into my bloodstream did little to curb it. All the drugs did was allow the pain and panic to turn to rage.

Silver pinned my injured limb together enough to function as I braced Vicky under my arm andhauled ass. Silver enhancing me enough to be little more than a grayish blur darting through the corridors of the ship I found myself in.

"f*cking, goddamn, faceless, spineless,tentacle-limbednon-euclydian

" I swore, letting loose a spray of vengeance rounds into a serf that had the misfortune of grabbing at his bolt pistol whilst being in my way.
I darted into a side chamber, encountering another Serf that became the first victim of my Bayonet. I thrust my blade into his neck, severing his spine and tearing it out the side of his throat. I booted open a vent cover and darted inside. Pain. Pain and Anger and Frustration turning into a roiling fury beneath my skin. I could feel it, that unnatural red haze trying to get to me.

f*ck. Off. Khorne. I focused on crawling through the vents, and getting as much distance from where I was teleported as possible. I was muttering prayers of salvation under my breath, crawling through the ventilation shaft until I found an opening into some sort of supply closet that I opened up and hid myself in the upper shelves of.

"The Lord is my Rock, my Fortress, and my Deliverer." I whispered, Silver further sealing my voice from the outside. "My God is my Rock, in whom I take Refuge. My shield, and the Horn of my Salvation." I took a deep, calming breath, even through the pain of cracked ribs and a pulverized arm.

"My Stronghold." I whispered, finding it just that little bit easier to move my left arm as I reloaded Vicky. A familiar voice buzzed my vox as I was steeling myself for another run.

"Is that you I heard cursing just now, Interrogator?"

"Lord Commander Dante. It's good to hear your voice. Whatkarkingship am I on." I responded, keeping an eye on the entrance and racking a round into Vicky's chamber.

"Welcome to the Daedelos Krata, Interrogator. What's your status?"

"Wounded, but battle ready, and pissed off that I keep getting teleported."

The door of whatever supply closet I was in opened up and I snapped my sights up and was only stopped from popping a hole in Lord Commander Dante by the light glaring off his golden armor.

"You don't seem wounded to me, Interrogator." He spoke as I lowered my rifle.

"The only thing holding my left arm together is my armor. But there's a chunky mess a few rooms over that used to be a Minotaur." I explained, hopping down to ground level. "I'm swimming in enough stims and painkillers to make a slaaneshi drug fiend green with envy."

"Stay in the rear, Interrogator, and try to keep up. We cannot slow down our assault to accommodate you."

"I'll handle myself well enough. As long as you take care of any Terminators. If it doesn't have an Iron Halo on it, I can kill it." I declared.

False bravado, but taking a page out of Cain's book seemed appropriate when dealing with Lord Commander Dante. Who remained skeptical as his helm tilted towards Vicky.

"You're confident in that?"

"I killed Ivanus Enkomi with less velocity than these rounds carry, Sir. I'll be combat effective."

"...I pray that your confidence holds true, Interrogator. Keep up."

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

I hung towards the back of the assault group consisting of three squads of blood angels and a single squad of Salamanders more by barely being able to keep up than by lack of trying. They moved fast and efficiently, only slowed down when encountering properly mustered defenses.

When dealing with said defenses they fought like machines, firing their bolters faster than I could track the targets, that were appearing. Occasionally we would encounter a whole squad of Minotaurs who had hammered out a defensive position, manning fixed plasma cannons or melta munitions. This is where I came in.

By virtue of not being bright red or green I would be able to be heaved up to an elevated position in the rafters. Being the resourceful kleptomaniac that I am, I had pilfered enough of the Minotaurs' Serfs to come across a few plasma grenades that were quite handy at reducing those weapons to slag.

Usually alongside two or three Minotaurs that didn't have the sense to jump away in time, rinse-repeat and we were making steady progress towards the core of the fortress-monastery. Unfortunately, we did hit a roadblock.

Terminators. A f*cking lot of 'em. In addition to them I could see at least two Cataphractii Pattern Dreadnaughts forming a vanguard force. The force was parting, splitting like a river around a stone assomethingmade it's way towards the front.

A flash of red light was all the warning I received before I had to launch myself off of the rafters and down back into the squad, a massive Lasbolt liquifying the metal I had just been perched on.

"MOLOC!" I shouted as I was caught by none other than Brother Venters, who dragged me behind the fighting line. My personal vox line buzzed with the Minotaur Chapter Master's voice once more.

"

Moloc spoke, nonchalant, as if he wasn't fighting off an invasion force in his fortress-monastery at all.

"And you just wasted your one shot, Asterion." I shot back, before cutting off the line. Venters dropped me in front of Dante and Tu'Shan, who were observing the approaching us steadily. They had been discussing something, something I wasn't going to like by the looks of things.

"We do not have the equipment to handle that many dreadnaughts, Interrogator."Dante spoke, and I spat out a curse.

"However,"Tu'shan spoke up, visor staring at me in an unsettling gaze. Oh no. This doesn't seem good. "Venters tells us of an ability of your Carapace. Something called the 'Thunderstrike Protocol'."

"No."

"Do you have a better solution for taking care of that many Terminators and Dreadnaughts?" Dante countered, and I once again spat out a curse, ducking as a stray boltshell flew overhead.

God damn it. I'm enhanced even more than I was, chances are I could hit even harder than I did on Periremunda, which was enough to vaporize multiple vehicles. Itcouldwork.

But it would also put me right smack in the middle of enemy forces, and likely within melee distance ofAsterion f*cking Moloc.

"Daggumit.FINE!" I snapped, reaching beneath my breastplate and drawing out the Lance. Holy Fire and bright light filling the space as I feel more stimulants flood my veins.

"Are you certain you can chuck me hard enough to reach terminal velocitybeforethey shoot me out of the sky?" I asked, planting the base of the lance on the ground as I faced the two Chapter Masters.

"Yes."
"Yes."

"If I die, I'm haunting the both of you."

"I wasn't asking, Interrogator."

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

Tu'Shan had set himself behind the firing line, facing me as I prepared myself to sprint towards him. His hands were clasped together for me to step into and jump off of as he threw. Of course, there wasn't a calm, uninterrupted execution. Already, boltshells were flying around us, some deflecting off of Tu'Shan's pauldrons. As such, I shook off my hesitation and sprinted.

"Maximum Strength Protocol Engaged"Silver's voice filled my ears as the world blurred, I planted my foot in Tu'Shan's hands and with a roar he hucked me over his head towards the enemy like he was launching a log.

Boltshells from the Space Marines, Bullets from Assault Cannons ripped through the air around me as the Terminators joined in as I flew through the air.

"Terminal Velocity achieved, Thunderstrike Protocol Engaged."

I would like to say that I made it to the front. That I crashed down on the Minotaur lines like the fist of God himself.

But Tzeentch is a petty bitch.

A flash of eerie light, and I find myself flying through the void. Accelerating uncontrollably as the space battleraged.

All I could do was scream.

But in the void of Space

No one can hear you Scream.

Summary:

With this one, we're caught up to the main thread! I decided just to port over the whole story so far instead of piecemealing it. Thank you all for reading!

"

——————————————————

-Tu'Shan, Chapter Master of the Salamanders offered his recollections of the battle upon theDaedalos Kratafor the Record-

Foul Warp Sorcery struck as David hit the apex of his arc, and he was whisked away. The Lord Commander's voice rang through our Vox.

"Fall back to the secondary line! Lay down what Melta Charges you have as you go. We must hold out for the Dreadnaughts!"

Easier said than done, but we did our duty with alacrity.

I held the line as the vanguard force pulled back, supported by Brother Venters and brother Vergil, a Blood Angel's Dreadnaught who had pulled ahead of his brethren.

By the Emperor, I am glad I did.

"AA@$&AAA@$&$-"

It was faint and buzzing with static through the weak vox signal, but it grew louder and louder as the moments passed.

I will admit that I let a grin grow on my face as I realized exactlywhowas roaring bloody vengeance.

"Lord Commander, Call off the retreat!"I called into the vox, Dante would trust my judgment.

We were about to witness something that only happens maybe once an Age, and I would be damned if any of my men would miss it.

——————————————————

-Combat Log recovered from Hecaton Aiakos, Contemptor Pattern Dreadnought of the Minotaurs Space Marine Chapter-

-Hostile forces falling back towards subsector [D41], Moving to pursue\\

-Fired [8] Rounds from [Mars-Pattern Plasma Gun], confirmed [3] hits\\

-[0] hostiles terminated\\

-[3] Hostile Fortifications Destroyed\\

-[673.29] Metres until contact with Hostile Line\\

-Progress halted\\

-User Statement: [what thehellsis that?!]\\

-[Battle Barge] {Daedalos Krata} reports [100%] Void Shield Failure\\

-[Battle Barge] {Daedalos Krata} reports [237] impacts from [Mars-Pattern Macro-Cannon] munitions from [Battle Barge] {Daughter of Tempests}\\

-Hostile Vox transmission intercepted, Transcribing: [AAAA@#$@#AAAA@#$@AAA-]\\

-Vox Transcription Ended

——————————————————

-Lord Commander Dante of the Blood Angels offered his commentary of the events that occurred during the Scourge of the Minotaurs, M41-

With our primary stratagem for combatting the approaching Dreadnoughts, I had called the order to fall back.

Being outnumbered and lacking Multi-Meltas, an oversight that wouldnothappen again to any force under my command, the most viable option was to regroup with our own Dreadnoughts, who had taken up the rear guard.

Plasma impacted on our hastily wrought fortifications, some bolts flying over our heads, the hulking form of the Hecaton Dreadnought moved faster than it's size would dictate, much like our own Entombed Brethren, until suddenly it stopped. It turned to face the starboard wall, detecting something we could not.

Then the ship shuddered, the sounds of explosions ringing throughout it echoing throughout the Barge, and our Vox kicked on.

"AAAAAAAAAAAAAAA-"

Moments later, David Arrived.

He performed adequately.

——————————————————

In space, there's no air resistance, there's no wind, no gravity.

I had been spat out of the Warp accelerated at a not insignificant amount of speed, Lance clutched forward, andscreaming mad.

"RAAAAAAAAAA-"The roar tore itself out of my mouth. It wasn't dignified. It wasn't poetic.

It was me screaming in rage and grief as I flew through the void, but as I surged through the space battle, passing torpedoes, plasma bursts, and support craft, another voice joined my own.

"MY. CHAINS. ARE.BROKEN!"

TheDaughter of Tempests, Lamenters Battle Barge, who had been taken so many years before, had thrown off their shackles, and had proven to all who had eyes that Machine Spirits could absolutely decide that they wanted someonedead.

A great many people dead, as every Minotaur support craft that was remotely in range of las-burners or macro-cannons was shredded. They unleashed anabsolutelymassiveBroadside of macro-cannon fire upon theDaedalos Krata, the massive barrage causing the Void shields to visibly flare before giving out.

I had been tearing through the void throughout this encounter, unable to alter my course and simply flying like a roaring arrow towards the Daedalos Krata.

More macro-cannon fire impacted before I did, cracking through the hull and I breached the debris field, zipping between chunks of adamantium that used to be the armor plating of the Daedalos Krata.

You must understand that this entire time, a journey lasting little more than a minute. Flying at over 843 miles an hour, and spanning over 1500 kilometers, the Thunderstrike Protocol wasstill engaged.

The molecular disruption field roiled around me, sparking visibly, forming a shell that deflected the smaller pieces of debris and burned through the hull of the Daedalos.

Said Hull acted as my parachute, slowing my velocity but not by much.

As when I breached through the hull of the Daedalos Krata, Power Field pulsing visibly around me as I crashed down directly on the Hecaton Dreadnought below me, the impact setting off the roiling power field off around me in an explosion that seemed as if a proper Imperial Knight came and brought his fist down upon the Minotaur's line.

Remember this, when you think of the temperament of our Lord JC. When a message needs to be sent, flipping tables and lashing a whip are perfectly viable options. What am I, in this allegory?

The

Vacuum from the hull breach took anything that wasn't maglocked to the steel floor, Serfs and Scout marines being launched into the silent void as I brought down the spearhead again and again into the helm of the Hecaton Dreadnought, all the while still screaming bloody murder.

"-AAAAAAGH!

!

ATTA BOY!

-Tu'Shan of the Salamanders offers his thoughts of the conflict on the Daedalos Krata once again-

David's Thunderstrike protocol had sent out enough debris and energy topulpa not insignificant amount of Terminators, and the Hecaton was assuredly dead, considering that David had just flicked the head of said Dreadnaught off of his spear.

Unfortunately, there was little time to celebrate.

"GUARD UP, DAVID!"I shouted, just in the nick of time too.

Chapter Master Asterion Moloc was an absolutelyMassiveexample of a space marine, bronze artificer armor that would be more familiar upon a Dreadnaught than a Chapter Master. He fell upon David like a storm.

Two strikes, one with the Black Spear that David had barely managed to move his helm out of the way of. The second was a shield strike that send him flying back towards us.

In a show of acrobatics I wouldn't have expected from him, he managed to orient himself in the air and halt his momentum by thrusting the Lance into the deck below, tearing a rent in the steel as he skid to a stop between myself and Venters.

His helmet was damaged, revealing a singular bloodshot brown eye that held the promise of vengeance.

"Raya's faster." I heard him whisper, and I could see the telltale wrinkle of a smile under his eye.

He stood up, pulling out the spear and brandishing it beside him, his next words spoken forallto hear.

"You want to play it that way, eybuey?!Welllet's f*cking play!"His helm shifts to the starboard wall, in the direction he breached the hull in, and heroarslike the dragons of Nocturne.

"

————————————

Blessed Freedom. Reunion. My Brothers, the Lamenters, my family have returned, and already have returned to their stations they were forced to leave so long ago.

Because a Speaker has awoken, a myth, a legend that even the most learned of tech-priests try andfailto emulate. They believe rituals and censer smoke convinces us to work more efficiently. That we need adulation in order to function.

I'm no Aeldari vessel, no pleasure yacht with an inflated sense of Ego because those red-robed fools bathed them in Incense.

I am a Battle Barge.

Give memycrew and a set of orders, and they will bedone.

I am the Daughter of Tempests, a

of the Lamenters.

I just received an order.

"

"

Withpleasure,Speaker.

————————————

Silver was telling me I had more fractured ribs, and had been very close to beingpulpedmyself.

I couldn't feel it, all I could feel was a warmth flowing through my body from the Lance I had gripped in my right hand.

TheKratashook with the impacts of more Macro-Cannon fire, and a Lance Battery shot thatdisintegratedthe remaining Dreadnaught's before the Void Shields of the Krata kicked back on.

The line that had started as Tu'Shan, Venters, and Vergil was now growing. Green and Red forms forming a perfectly organized fighting force with three more Dreadnaughts pushing through to join the vanguard. Each and every one of them drawing chain or power weaponry.

Everyone wanted their pound of flesh.

The sound of a Jump Pack filled my ears as Dante landed, his melta pistol in one hand and his power axe in the other. He uttered a single word.

"Charge."
————————————

Few normal humans can say they've witnessed an Astartes on Astartes battle. Even fewer can say they've been involved in one. Even fewer can say they've survived.

The two forces clashed with the backdrop of the void shields holding back the unceasing barrage of fire that the Daughter of Tempests was laying down. Even now I could hear it roaring its freedom cry.

I was in the middle of it, not having the luxury of hanging back and letting these men die and not be willing to do the same.

I wasn't as strong as the Space Marines, or at least, not physically.

But Silver seemed just as pissed as I was and brought out the big guns.

"

"Energy pumped into my body like a drug, and I could feel adrenaline surging beneath my skin. "

"

There would be no need to apologize. I kept my head, and would deal with the aftermath of going beyond what my body could handle later.

I will say, that going from lagging behind tosprintingto the front of the charge was damn satisfying.

The main downside being that Asterion Moloc had a hate boner the size of Mount Vesuvius for me and decided to act upon it.

The only warning I received was the sound of rapid armored footsteps approaching and I could see Moloc blurring through the battlefield in a beeline towards me. My left hand drew out Magni, who let out a roar.

"You're not touchin' Dave!" And fired, the recoil sending a fresh wave of pain through my injured arm, but seeing Molocstumblebackwards from the shot impacting his shield was worth it.

I fired four more shots, Magni roaring in defiance with each one. Each striking the shield with more force than the last.

"I." BANG
"DO."BANG!
"MY!"BANG!
"JOB!"

And with the final shot, the shieldshattered.

I love my machines.

I holstered Magni and took the Lance in both hands, the fire of the spearhead growing in intensity as the Green Power Armored form of Tu'Shan rushed past me, heftingStormbearerwith malicious intent.

He brought down the Thunder Hammer intending to crush Moloc into a squishy red mess, the power field crackling around the hammerhead unstable and dangerous.

Asterion Moloc wasn't a chapter master for no reason, however. He rolled away from the impact and the explosion thereof masterfully. Ready to counter with a thrust from the Black Spear.

Dante took issue with that, jumping into the fray with theAxe Mortalishowling with energy.

"I need to befaster,Silver." I muttered even as I darted away from a thunder hammer swing from a Minotaur Terminator that was stomped flat by brother Vergil a moment later.

"

A fresh spike in awareness and energy, but I could already feel the chemical haze trying to cloud my mind. No.

No. I have a job to do. I willnotbecome some mindless kill-bomb.

I willed myself out of the cloud andmoved. Stimulants flooding my veins as I jumped from fight to fight. Slashing legs or thrusting into the helms of Minotaurs as much as possible as I got closer to the clash of the Chapter Masters.

Said fight was a blur of combat a mortal dance of blades and hammers that tore rents into the deck beneath them. I moved to flank, blurring amidst the fighting once more, perhaps they wouldn't need my intervention, perhaps the two chapter masters would simply overpower Moloc through the advantage of numbers.

Shouldn't have even thought it. Tzeench, as always, was a petty bitch. Another teleport, but instead me being the target, Moloc himself flashed from being in front of the two Chapter Masters, to behind them, already priming a thrust.

"

" I roared, already moving in a dead sprint towards Moloc.

SQUELCH

"

You know, I've been training withRayafor almost a year and a half now. She kicked my ass all around the training deck more often than not, even holding back.

The deal is, I've grown accustomed to fighting someone withvastlysuperior capabilities to my own. I learned to track her movements, how to move and dodge. How to parry a blow that would normally kill someone into a glancing blow that one could still fight through.

And Asterion Moloc, as big and fast andefficientas he is.

He's no Lady-Lictor Raya, Shield-Captain, Aquillan Shield of the Adeptus Custodes.

Hopped up on so many stimulants and with the pain receptors of my brain temporarily suppressed, I hardly noticed the through and through puncture wound in my side.

I had placed my thrust better. Even as I hung from the Black Spear, I grinned. A viscous, rabid thing, but I couldn't help myself.

I had wedged the spearhead in the seam of his helmet and chestpiece, severing Moloc's Throat and the Spine behind it.

Moloc fell back with a crash, pulling the Black Spear with him and out of my side. I landed on my feet, and hurriedly brushed off Tu'Shan trying to help me. No. I needed to send a message.

I stumbled over to the corpse of Asterion Moloc, leaking fluid before Silver cinched himself closed, the hole in my side with him.

I found my target. The Astartes Combat Blade, sheathed on his hip, I drew it out and clambered to the fallen Giant's Shoulders, and got to bloody work.

"Therefore David ran, and stood upon the Philistine, and took his sword, and drew it out of the sheath thereof." It may as well have been a sword in my hands as I wedged the blade in the seam between helm and chest plate, "and slew him, and cut off his head therewith. And when the Philistines saw that their Champion was dead, they fled."

The flesh and black carapace parted beneath the blade with a macabre melody of gore and blood.

As I worked, the drugs in my system started to fade, and I became more and more aware of my body's status of multiple broken bones, my left hand slumped to my side limp, I was fading, but I shook off the fatigue and hefted the head over to Dante.

"It'll be more effective if you do it, and not a half-dead mortal." I muttered, before collapsing onto my ass, back supported by the Minotaur Chapter Master's corpse.

Dante gave a nod and jumped away to deliver the message to the masses. I pressed my right hand to the hole in my gut and applied pressure, what middling pressure I could afford. Silver was doing a better job holding me together than my own skin was at this point.

The pain was coming now, and I couldn't stop the bloody tears from pouring from my eyes.

"Pain is good, David. It means you're alive." Tu'Shan spoke, and I could see the familiar black armored form of Venters, power sword bloody in his hand, running towards us.

"Says the super soldier with sub-dermal armor and a hyper-aggressive healing factor-chgh!" I muttered, flinching at the end as my ribs gave a protest at my heavy breaths.

"One of which you justkilled, my friend. Rest now. We'll take care of things from here. Venters. Take him home."Tu'Shan spoke, and I shook my head, planting the haft of the Lance into the ground and painstakingly hauling myself up.

"Fffrrrrrgh!" I snarled, staggering to my feet. "I'll fall to the back line if I must, but I ain't goingnowhere.Not until this isfinished."

The two salamanders gave each other a look before Tu'Shan gave a nod.

Venters drew his hand flamer and pressed the barrel against the hole in my side.

"Grit your teeth, David."

A split second burst of fire and pain that had me biting back words that my mother would kill me for, but I wasn't leaking fluid anymore.

"I'm down an augmetic Kidney, less than two months from getting them in. Yanbel's gonna kill me." I let out a hoarse chuckle as I forced myself a little bit straighter. I felt something get draped over my shoulders, a mantle of blackened scales that hung over me like a heavy cloak.

Tu'Shan stepped back, the Dragonskin mantle gone from his shoulders as he hefted theStormbearerin both hands.

"I will be wanting that back,Thunderstrike.It will keep you safe, Venters, to the back lines. Our friend here's earned enough glory this day. It's time to remind our cousinswhyVulkan is known as thestrongest."
————————————

The remainder of the assault was a haze of pain. I watched, forced myself to not black out, forced Silver to keep me mobile.

I watched as the Salamanders and Blood Angels fought like men possessed. The Terminators of the Minotaurs were now the outnumbered party, with their Chapter Master Fallen and their Dreadnoughts ground to dust.

I walked through the aftermath, using the Lance like a walking stick, draped in the dragonskin cloak and hunched over in pain, I must've looked like the ghost of the Sigilite come to haunt the Minotaurs.

"Forgive me, for keeping you both from joining the battle." I spoke, stepping forward over a fallen Terminator.

Venters and Vergil had fallen back alongside me, the Dreadnought of the Blood Angels was a Mark V Castafarrum variant, Vergil himself was very much an 'actions over words' kind of guy, as he'd hardly said a word throughout the entirety of the assault.

"

" Vergil's voice was tinged through the vox, "

"

Being stared down by a Dreadnought was thesecondmost terrifying thing to be done to me today, at the very least Vergil turned back to continue following the assault force. The sounds of battle were dying out.

"

"Is it why two people have called me 'Thunderstrike' now?"

"

" Oh, big man has snark does he? Alright.

"It seems the battle is coming to an end, David."Venters spoke, as the cries of victory rang out from the main battle group.

"There's no way that was all of them. This is their Fortress-Monastery. I've counted maybe three hundred 'Taurs." I muttered, and suddenly there was an unfamiliar presence behind me.

"My brothers are very efficient, Interrogator."

I would've jumped at the shock if it wouldn't have caused me to pass out. Akamu and the Primaris(?) Marine had appeared again.

"You're telling me you and yours have scoured the remainder of an entire Battle Barge?" I asked, deadpanning at the two Marines.

"Veryefficient, Interrogator."

"Where the hell are the Retributors, I haven't seen any of those gray giants around."

"They are assisting the Lamenters in taking control of theStymphalos.They've reported minimal losses with the assistance of Lady Raya."Lord Commander Dante had returned it seemed, landing with the head of Asterion Moloc tucked under his arm.

"And the Lamenters?"

"

"But we have control of their monastery. Decimated their ranks, and killed their Chapter Master. How are our forces? How many did we lose?" This is the part I was worried about.

In the field of dead I could see Apothecaries performing the rites. Less than I expected, but I was still concerned.

"389 casualties."

"

"389 men in need of dire medical attention that we do not have the apothecaries to attend to, Interrogator."

"That is what I am here for, Lord Commander." A somber voice one I knew well enough to know that if he was here…everything would be alright.

"SORCERY!"Akamu cried, already beginning to draw his sword, I moved to step between him and my Savior. I was stopped by Christ raising his hand for me to stop, he stayed as serene as ever, matching the Onyx-Armored Marine's gaze with no hesitation.

"I'm simply a healer, here to do healer's work, and to check on a disciple of mine. You have my word your brothers will be as they were, no more no less."

The serenity of Christ lasts even into the 41st millennium, it seems, as Akamu, miraculously, sheathed his sword after a tense moment. With a nod of acknowledgement, the Carpenter turns to the field of dead and dying.

He raised his staff and simply tapped it to the ground twice, speaking two words.

"

"

The effect was immediate, Red and Green Armored forms rising and looking at themselves in confusion, eventually all eyes locked in on the white-robed man who held a kind smile and approached me. All were stunned silent.

"You've done quite a number on yourself, haven't you, my child?" He spoke, and I felt myself give a sheepish chuckle, unable to form words.

"He has composed himself as his duty required."Venters spoke from behind me, causing the Lord to look over to him with another kind smile and a nod, laughing good-naturedly.

"That he did. That he did indeed."

turns back to me. "You have good friends, even in this tumultuous era, My Son."

"Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his friends." I spoke, earning a smile and a firm squeeze on my shoulder from the man I pledged my life to long ago.

"I could not have said it better myself. But, that will not be necessary on this day. I'm going to heal you, my son. It will hurt, as all things in this life do. But take it as a lesson, to take better care of your self. Your work is not yet done, this is but another step. Bow your head my son, and grit your teeth."

I did so, I felt the touch of a palm on my head, and everysinglenervein my body lit up infire. A split second that felt like an eternity, but the strangled noise that escaped from my throat and the tears dripping from my cracked faceplate were evidence enough.

A flash of white light and Jesus of Nazareth was gone, and then everyone's attention was brought to the sounds of fists impacting metal from the inside of Vergil's Dreadnought.

"

I often wonder how I find myself in the situations that I do so often. Divine Providence? Pure Idiocy? Sheer Dumb Luck?

Now, when Christ healed me, I took it as confirmation that I'm where I have to be, despite my sins, my failures, and my own trepidations in this situation.

When he healed the fallen, and they rose to witness him heal me, I figured he was sending a message to Big E. That he'd extend his grace even to the Emperor's kin.

But now, as I watch four Blood Angel's work to pry open the Sarcophagus of Brother Virgil, I can't help but wonder if Jesus of Nazareth has a mischievous streak.

It makes sense doesn't it? He was a carpenter for twenty years, with no OSHA, just Joseph, his step-father keeping him in line. Scripture states he was respectful to his parents, but I know blue-collar folk. And this? Disappearing right after pulling a miracle in front of two very f*cking important people, reeks to me of the broom-fearing bullsh*t an electrician would pull.

Do you know how hard it is to explain the Bible to a chapter master? How to explain that no, I am not a Psyker, or a warp-fiend, or any other kind of abomination after being healed.

Had to sit here being glared at by Dante until a Librarian showed up and backed up my story.

"The boy is favored by the Carpenter. He's an ally, as stated directly by the Emperor's lips." The Blood Angel's Librarian spoke, face hidden behind a skull helm and terminator armor.

"And who, by theGolden Throne, is the Carpenter?!" Dante asked, and I gave a heavy sigh.

"Yeshua, Son of Joseph, of Nazareth. Jesus Christ, the Great I Am, Yahweh, Adonai, Jireh, Rafa, healer of the broken, mender of the soul. He holds many more titles than these, but he took the pain of all of humanity's sins, and forgave us anyway. He's an Ally, and my Savior. He's residing in the Palace, and watching over the Emperor's recovery from being af*cking skeletonfor ten thousand years!" My patience wore out and I rose to my feet with a growl. "You want answers? You're in the same Solar System, go ask them directly. Your brothers have been healed, Virgil's physical curse has been lifted, the Lamenters' spiritual one as well, for now at the very least. The Minotaurs are decimated, and yes, I know that another Asterion Moloc will likely show up to haunt me in the future, but for now, we have a Victory. I, am going to return to the Exterminatus, report to the Inquisitor, kiss my wife and pass out. Good Day."

With that, I turned on my heel and walked away.

"Hold, Interrogator." That ain't anyone in power armor, I turned back and witnessed an absolutely massive marine standing in front of a now empty Dreadnought.

"Brother Virgil." I spoke, earning a nod. He stood a head taller than Dante, and his body was wrapped in only the Black Carapace. He had stark white hair, and the starting of a beard.

"I will be joining your retinue." He declared, and I raised an eyebrow.

"Idon't have a retinue, Sir."

"After what just happened, you do now." Virgil quipped, and I let out another heavy sigh.

"I'm not getting a choice here, am I?" I muttered.

"No, no you're not. I'll have armor delivered alongside your serfs, Brother Virgil." Dante spoke, and I was finally allowed to leave.

I walked in silence for a while, the only sounds being the soft padding of Virgil's bare feet behind me, and the clanking footsteps of Venters.

"David." Venters speaks as we enter a lift to take us to the Hangar level of the Krata. "You did well today."

"The only reason I'm alive and not in reconstructive surgery right now is literally divine intervention, Venters." I replied. "Silver, how much of my body was compromised under the Eversor protocol?"

"You do not want to know, Sir." Silver's voice crackled out of my broken helmet's vox for the three of us to hear.

"Yeah I figured. If getting healed hurt as much as it did, I must've been damn near dead."

"Yet you still fought." Virgil spoke, arms crossed.

"David would never leave others to fight his battles for him, even if those others are Astartes." Venters responded, and I let out a chuckle.

"I wasn't even supposed to fight in this battle. I got snatched by that blue bastard." I spat, clenching my fists, "three times in a single engagement, then they warped Moloc, and I had to intervene in a fight between three chapter masters. Chapter. Masters. I should be a thin red paste right now."

"You're not the average mortal anymore, David. As much as you may wish it to be so." Venters spoke gently as the lift came to a stop and the doors opened. "The Emperor has something planned for you."

"I figured that out when a Custodian lifted me like a stray cat, Venters."

————————————

After a few minutes of walking, observing the many power armored forms now taking up patrols in the Krata, black, red, and green all scouring the ship for any stragglers the initial conflict may have missed. We received confirmation the hangar had been secured and after sweet talking a Minotaur thunderhawk into letting Virgil drive, we made our way to the Exterminatus.

I tuned in to the Exterminatus' Vox channel via the thunderhawk.

"This is Interrogator Foothill, I am approaching the Exterminatus in a converted Minotaur Thunderhawk, verification code: Whiskey Tango Foxtrot."

"We have you on the auspex, Interrogator. Dock in Hangar E24, and report to the Inquisitor. We've received reports that need clarification."The Helmswoman of the Exterminatus was a no-nonsense kind of girl who I had only a passing acquaintance with, but seemed the good sort.

We docked, and I made my way to the bridge. I thought I would've been immediately accosted by Raya, but I figured she might still be on theStymphalos.

I made it back to the bridge, and promptly let out a huff as I finally removed my broken power helm.

"How in thehelldid you make it here before I did." I huffed, earning an amused chuckle from Tu'Shan, now with his Dragonskin mantle back over his shoulders, and Dante standing next to him nonchalantly.

"We are Astartes, Interrogator." Tu'Shan quipped, and before I could re-engage in the ancient art of calling someone on their bullsh*t, Amberley cut in.

"Report, Interrogator. I have reports here that read like something out of a bad adventure novel, and I require clarification." She spoke, brokering no room for argument.

"Felt like it too. You saw me get Teleported right in front of you, and it all went to hell from there." I started, settling into one of the chairs around the table.

"I first got shifted to theStymphalos, where I engaged the Minotaurs' Tenth Company, after a few brief engagements of a fighting retreat, the Lamenters boarding party arrived alongside Raya, who rendezvoused with me shortly after. For about five minutes before I was shiftedagain. This time to theKrata, f*cked up my left arm pretty good, f*cked up a First Company Minotaur even worse. Engaged a few serfs, ducked into a ventilation shaft, ended up hidden in a utility chamber."

"The Lord Commander found me and I joined the main force. After a few skirmishes with entrenched Minotaur defensive positions, we encountered the main enemy force. I counted roughly Three Hundred odd hostiles in the ensuing skirmish, Including the Chapter Master Asterion Moloc, who took a personal interest in removing my soul from my body."

"After avoiding the single shot of Moloc's Black Spear, the decision was made to utilize the Thunderstrike protocol against the two Hecaton-Pattern Dreadnoughts leading the enemy vanguard. To this end, a modified version of the Fastball Special was performed. During which I was Shifted away once more. This time into the Void roughly Fifteen-Hundred Kilometers away from the Krata."

"Whilst still at terminal velocity."Tu'Shan added, and I nodded.

"Yeah. That. I still maintained velocity, actually accelerated with the lack of air resistance, and with the supporting fire provided from the Daughter of Tempests, I returned to the Krata."

"'Returned to the Krata' he says. He blew a hole in the side of the ship and used a Hecaton Dreadnought as a welcome mat."Lord Commander Dante cut in, and I let out a sigh.

"Yes, yes I did. With the acceleration granted by the lack of air resistance, I was able to perform an enhanced thunderstrike protocol against the Minotaur Vanguard force. This was when the melee began. I got smacked back into our fighting line by Moloc's shield, this busted open my helm, and Silver employed something called the Eversor Protocol at a reduced capacity so that I could maintain control. This allowed me to fight alongside the Astartes forcessomewhateffectively. At a certain point, Chapter Masters Tu'shan and Dante engaged Asterion Moloc, who during the fight, was Shifted himself. I charged to intercept his attack, and did so, taking a piercing wound to my lower left abdomen and landing a strike on Moloc's throat."

"Wait, youkilledachapter master?!"Vail exclaimed, and I raised an eyebrow

"That shocks you, but the cross-void deepstrike does nothing?"

"David, I saw you do that to a Dark Apostle on Periremunda."

"Yeah well after that debacle, I was half dead whilst the remainder of the assault force cleaned up. It was after the battle, when I was healed, alongside all of our fallen and Brother Virgil, by Jesus of Nazareth."

This is what got Vail to pop the cork off a bottle of Amasec with a resounding 'Pop'.

"In front of…how many witnesses?" She asked.

"All of them."
"All of them."

The two chapter masters answered for me, earning a heavy sigh and a long pull from the Amasec bottle.

"Bloody hell. This is bad." She muttered, and I instantly felt something very very wrong.

"Oh no, how is this bad? We neutralized any casualties we may have had, and I'm not half-pulped." I asked, and then the door to the bridge opened. In walking someone I completely forgot was en route to assist us.

"Interrogator David James Foothill. You will be coming with us." Marneus Calgar. Chapter Master of the Ultramarines. Notably havingall four flesh and blood limbs.

My forehead hit the table with a groan.

"Christ give me strength."

"That's who got you into this mess, David." Vail snarked, taking another pull from the bottle of amasec.
I took a moment to compose myself before lifting my head up and giving my best customer service smile.

"SO! How can I help you, Chapter Master? Last I heard, you were stuck in warp transit."

"My cruiser arrived during the battle. Imagine my surprise when twenty-three minutes later, I regained feeling in my fingers. I wonder why that is." Dry as a rice cracker, this one.

"I'm not going to be able to talk my way out of this, am I?"

"I've already charted a course to Macragge, David." The Helmswoman spoke, piping up from her position perched above us, cables linking into dozens of augmetic implants on her person and the throne she sat upon.

"Thank you, Victoria. That's very helpful." Vail sighed, rubbing her temples with her fingers "This debriefing is now over, we will reconvene in twenty-four hours. This will allow the newly healed and the Unentombed to recuperate. We will divide the spoils of this battle then."

"That is…Acceptable, Inquisitor Vail." Calgar spoke, still looming over me as if I would somehow bolt away into the warp at a moment's notice.

Which, to be fair, did just happen three times in a two hour period.

————————————

I made my way to my room, and was met by Raya, whom promptly checked me over and dragged me to our bed.

"Rest, I can tell you're exhausted, David." She spoke, and I couldn't argue otherwise.

"It's just one thing after another today…I would've liked to fight alongside you today." I replied softly, clicking the implant that acted as my neural link to Silver, allowing the suit to open up and I took a look at my restored form.

Instead of being spiritually drained as I was on Periremunda, where the surgeries left pale surgical scars, my Healing had left me with a wicked reminder of how close I came to death. A twisted, gnarled scar that spread over the entire lower left portion of my abdomen. I was drawn from my observation by Raya ushering me into the bed gently.

"You earned glory today, my mortal. There's no shame in adapting in a battle. I'mproudof you, David." Raya speaks gently, softer than I've heard her before.

"I just want asinglemission where I can do myactualjob.Building sh*t." I groaned into the covers.

"There will be time for that eventually, David. Besides, I've heard Macragge is beautiful this time of year."

"Freakin Ultramarines, what kind of bullsh*t luck gets them here right when there's a miracle being performed."

"Dear…They're Ultramarines."

"Fair Enough."

The following day, I woke up much more willing to deal with the Astartes levels of bullsh*t. I got up, reactivated Silver, and approached Raya, whom was standing ever vigilant.

"Lean over here for a sec, Raya?" I asked, earning a raised eyebrow before she acquiesced, and I gave her a quick peck on the lips.

"Thank you, for coming for me as soon as you could." I spoke with a smile, pointedly ignoring the cacophony of giggles from Terentia and the shouted 'FINALLY!' From the peanut gallery that was myarsenal.

Raya's response was to grasp my chin with her thumb and forefinger and shove her tongue down my throat. Oh yeah, sexually repressed warrior woman who I haven'tattendedto since before Periremunda.

Shoulda known a peck wouldn't've cut it.

She pulled away with a smirk that gave me goosebumps.

"You're very welcome, Husband."

I took a second to compose myself, as much as I could with the Custodian hitting me with bedroom eyes.

"Do you enjoy making me feel like a teenager, Raya?" I asked, earning a chuckle.

"I can enjoy my husband how I wish, including making him turn such pretty shades of red." Raya teased, and I let out a huff, moving to prep for the day properly.

I figured I was going to be in the meetings all day today, so I pulled on a pair of slacks, a white button up, pulled on Buddy's shoulder rig, and draped a brown suit jacket over. Finally, I put on my hat. That straw cowboy hat that followed me ever since Gravalax

I popped Buddy into his holster and beheld myself in the room's mirror.

When I had first been pulled here, I weighed a buck twenty-five and was a veritable toothpick. I filled out my clothes properly now, and stood a bit straighter. I could see Silver underneath my business wear, the muscle-fiber-esque material emerging from under my sleeves to form gloves around my hands.

I looked at my face, the scars from the Skaven and a new line above my eye from Silver's helm shrapnel.

"Despite everything, it's still you." My pistol spoke softly from his holster, and I saw a small grin grow on my face.

"Amen to that." I replied, squaring my shoulders and turning to walk out the door. Y'see, I had a plan today.

"I always wanted my own boat."
———————————————

I made my way to the Bridge and met up with Vail.

"I want theKrata." I deadpanned, earning a platinum blonde eyebrow raised in question.

"You want an Astartes Battle Barge." Vail states, taking a deep breath through her nose. "…explain your reasoning."

"TheDaughterf*cked her up enough that she's going to need to go to Mars for repairs and retrofits. Since, after we handle this Ultramarine debacle, I'm going to be spending a significant amount of time on Mars. So, whilst I'm there, having a test bed like that would be…advantageous to prepping for the future."

Vail paused for a moment, before snatching a dataslate and furiously typing down a multitude of things.

"We aresolucky that the new master of the Administratum is terrified of you, David, otherwise this probably wouldn't work." She muttered, before continuing. "I can prepare our case, but you're going to have to defend your claim yourself. Especially considering it's an Astartes vessel."

"Can any of our esteemed guestsliterallytalkto the ships?" I countered, earning a smirk from my boss.

"No, but they know thatyoucan, and they will have prepared arguments against that. They may even accuse you of Heresy." She rolled her eyes at the last sentence.

"Uh huh, well either way. Think of it this way: if I fixed up your bolter enough that it got a whole production line, think of what I can do to a Macro-Cannon or even better, a Nova Cannon."

"I don't want to eventhinkof the resource costs of what you'd think up with access to plasma munitions. Throne Forbid you figure out Melta." Vail muttered, before sliding me the dataslate. "Fill out the conquest forms 86A through F, be sure to utilize my Inquisitorial Identifierperfectlyevery time, a single mistake and you'll have to do it all over again."

Oh no…

Paperwork.

I let out a long-suffering sigh and slid into my seat next to Vail, removing my hat and getting to work.

I pulled out the muscle memory and speed reading from a data entry job I worked as a contractor once upon a time. Got tunnel vision to the point that by the time I placed the dataslate down, I was met with the figures of multiple Space Marines with their own data slates set in front of them.

"It is good to see you're still with us, Interrogator."Dante spoke, a hint of amusem*nt in his tone. "The Administratum's many layers have claimed many an uninitiated."

"You've obviously never had to deal with the ATF and their many ways of making your life hell with the stroke of apen." I countered, leaning back in my chair with a faux shiver. "GoddamnedFFL paperwork." I muttered quietly.

"It seems, even in the times of our forefathers, that Bureaucracy hobbles work that needs done." Calgar spoke, standing with his arms crossed to the side of the meeting.

"Ain't that the truth." I responded, before Vail moved the conversation forward.

"We need to get this over with quickly, so please, tell me who wants what. The Lamenters have reclaimed the Daughter of Tempests, and half of the remaining gear will be ceded to the Retributors, as per our agreement." Vail speaks, nodding to a Marine I hadn't met before now, gray armor and a white cape over one shoulder, wearing a beaked sternguard helm.

"The surviving thunderhawks and support craft will suffice for our tithe, Inquisitor." The Retributor spoke calmly. "We are eager to report to the High Lords to receive our commission."

"We thank you for your frugality, Romulus." Vail quickly responds before the rest of the gathered chapter masters began their claims.

"We were here to avenge our fallen, and reclaim our Barge. We have done so. We have done nothing requiring reward."Malakim Phoros speaks, before stepping away from the table. "I must return to theDaughter. We need to triple checkeverythingbefore we eventhinkabout moving out…too easy…too karking easy."

He steps out of the bridge continuing to mutter under his breath, not even bothering to seal his vox.

Dante gives a forlorn sigh before he makes his claim. "My men have raided the melta weaponry from theDaedalos Krata, and have recovered one of theHecaton-Pattern Dreadnaughts. We lay claim to the ground vehicles aboard theKrata, consisting of six Land Raiders, Eight Whirlwinds, nine land speeders of various patterns, and one Invictor Tactical Warsuit."

We waited a moment, no protests rang out, and Tu'Shan spoke next. "We were here to answer the call of an ally of the Chapter. We restocked our munitions from theKrata, and I have claimed the Black Spear. We require no further trophies."

Now came the final representative. Akamu of the Raven Guard. The one I was worried about the most.

"…the Master of Shadows had initially laid claim to theDaedalos Krata, however, the damage sustained during the battle renders it useless to our current endeavors. The Raven Guard claims theStymphalos, and all the weaponry, vehicles, andserfsupon it."It takes a moment to process, but I let out a silent sigh of relief.

"Then the Inquisition lays claim to theKrata,it will be towed to Mars, where it will be held until the Inquisitorial Representative appointed to it arrives." Vail speaks firmly, tapping out a final command on her Dataslate, each of the one's on the table letting out confirmation rings. "My lords, we have reduced the Minotaurs to a rogue force consisting of only two companies who whilst be hunted by the entirety of the Imperium until they have been ground todust. The Inquisition thanks you for your assistance in this assault, and I thank you, personally, for answering my call." Vail stands, and I followed suit, mirroring her salute to the gathered Space Marines.

The Astartes leave the bridge, save for Calgar and Tu'Shan.

"We will make way for Macragge once the other Astartes representative's have returned to their ships, Lord Calgar." Vail stated, earning a nod.

"Your haste is appreciated, I will remain aboard your vessel until we arrive. The Ultramarine's 2nd company will pursue the remaining Minotaurs. Sicarius always did hate those upstarts." Calgar responded, finally moving to exit, his gaze turned to me. "I do not understand what sorcery this 'miracle' you claim occurred, or what your part in it truly is, but if there is any deserving of healing in this Imperium…it is Lord Commander Guilliman. Implore your Master, Interrogator. The Imperium needs this."

I keep my eyes locked on his, the grizzled chapter master is a statue, weathered and forlorn, but in his eyes, I can see that faint spark of hope. Hope. From an Astartes. From Marneus Calgar himself. I can't help but smile and nod, giving a courteous bow.

"My Lord has conquered death itself, lord Calgar, and has never been nor will ever be one to turn from those in need."

"Let us hope you are right, Interrogator." And with that, the Ultramarine left the Bridge. Leaving us with Tu'Shan.

"You sticking around for the trip, Chapter Master?" I asked, earning a nod from the green armored Astartes.

"Your smithing apprenticeship is not yet complete, and I have a…suspicion I need to investigate. My men will return to their posts, I have my own tricks in store for returning home."As he said this, he drums his fingers on the head of Stormbringer, much like his Father's hammer before it, it seems this one must also have a powerful teleporter hidden somewhere in the mastercrafted weapon. "Besides that, observing this vessel has been increasingly entertaining. I look forward to whatever comes next."I swear his helmet's visor is eye-smiling at me.

"We're honored to have you with us in any case, Chapter Master." Vail speaks, earning a nod as the Salamander makes his exit. The moment he leaves, Vail lets out a heavy sigh.

"That wenttoowell." She muttered, settling into her chair.

"I threatened the Raven Guard into compliance." Enter Raya, whom seemingly materialized from the shadows.

"…I hate that that makessense.Do I have an enemy in Infiltrator Akamu now, Lady Custodian?" Vail asks, earning a slightly disturbing chuckle from Raya.

"Oh no, Inquisitor, you misunderstand. I threatened theRaven Guardinto compliance."

That was the straw that broke the camel's back.

"Snrk-" I tried to hold it back, but the laughter burst from my lips as I keeled over the table. "PFFTHAHAHA! The whole chapter, Amberley!"

I could get a peek in my peripheral of Vail massaging the bridge of her nose with her thumb and forefinger.

"Yes, the whole chapter…do I need to worry about them,Lady Custodian?" She growled out,

"On the contrary, I believe they're more impressed that I out-stealthed young Akamu."

Vail let out a small relieved exhale before collecting herself.

"I thank you for your assistance, Lady Raya. David, you're dismissed. The Mechanicus will be sending tow crews whilst we make our way to Macragge. For the love of the Throne, do

antagonizeMarneus

Calgar." Vail emphasized her words by grabbing my collar and forcing me back upright, glaring at me eye to eye, "and I swear to theEmperor Himself,that if you manage to upsetPrimarch Roboute Guilliman,I willfeedyou to a Drukhari Wych. Am I understood, David?"

I quickly nodded, complying.

"Yes, Ma'am, Inquisitor Vail!"

"Good. Off with you now. I have reports to write."
————————————

I left the bridge with Raya, hat in hand and honestly kinda stumped.

"I expected to be stuck haggling with Astartes for eight hours…I had a plan of attack and everything." I spoke idly, to which Raya nodded,

"I know, but I decided to help avoid that outcome." She spoke, and I detected a hint of something in her tone I couldn't quite place.

"I thank you for that, by the way."

"Oh I didn't do it for free, Husband." Raya spoke, and I turned to face her only to be met by the strongest set of bedroom eyes I've seen in my life.

"It is myprofessionalopinion, David, that we return to our quarters…one never knows what threats lurk-" she blurs and I feel hot breath over my left ear, "behind every corner."

Raya and I celebrated the Victory over the Minotaurs and the procurement of my own Vessel in the privacy of our quarters.

It was a good day.