Diona Aran awoke not to the tumbling and maneuvering of the Valkyrie Transport that had carried her off of Tarnag. She did not awake to a Tyranid grasping at her through a smoking vehicle wreck. She rolled onto her stomach and stared out of the back of the troop bay, seeing a large hangar filled with dozens of soldiers and similar transports.

It was more than a small effort to rise to her feet; she had been hurt during the tumultuous maneuvers of the Valkyrie as is avoided Bio-spores and flying forms of Tyranid. A number of bruises up and down her sides and a dislocated shoulder were all evidence that she had been thrown around even after she had lost consciousness. Once she gained her feet she stepped out into an Atmospheric Hangar that she did not recognize. It was far better maintained than the last Imperial Navy vessel that she had been on. The only dirt and grime on the floors was that the soldiers had brought with them.

As Diona stumbled out of her craft, she was greeted by one of the ships medical assistants. It was far faster than she had ever received care within her regiment; she could have continued without the care, she had seen far worse injury and carried on before, but the relief after the man relocated her shoulder was almost blissful. She rested against the side of the Valkyrie, looking for any members of her squad that managed to evacuate to the same vessel. She recognized a few soldiers from different regiments, but nothing from her squad, no one even that she recognized as her regiment. Men from other companies and regiments hung together in clumps, the largest of which was nearly twenty men that must have had a transport all to themselves; the smallest groupings were just two men who looked as lonely as those who sat and stood alone.

It was a long wait before the blast doors at the head of the hangar finally opened. Diona only caught a quick glimpse into the corridor before a small column of soldiers began marching in. The sleek black hallway was decorated with banners hanging at angles between the ceiling and walls. It was odd for an Imperial Navy vessel, but easily dismissed as the culture of the ship. The soldiers that marched through were in far better shape than the leftovers of a few dozen regiments that were scattered throughout the hangar. The vessel's men wore the insignias of a Schola Progenium near the Sector Capitol, Seliks Prime; they were Stormtroopers.

Diona began pulling herself from her position against the Valkyrie, knowing that one of them would soon enough give the order to stand at attention for some officer or another. She was up by the time their leader had stepped forward and began shouting his orders. As the men began to organize by company Diona and at least seven others stood alone. Now that everyone was standing in the same location it was plain to see that there were at most a hundred Guardsmen that had made it to this ship. The seven Valkyries that dotted the hangar could have held more than three times that number if each transport had been as full as Diona's had been.

The commander of the Stormtroopers began his speech preluding the arrival of his officer. Diona mentally groaned as she stood at attention, her disinterest at whichever officer would appear before them only exacerbated by the pain pulling her mind from the Stormtroopers in front of her. When she tuned back into the Stormtrooper's speech, he had begun taking names and casualties from each Company and Regiment. She recognized a few of the names that were called out as missing or killed in action.

The Stormtrooper arrived at Diona after what had seemed to be an eternity. She, as every soldier had before her, listed off the names of all hundred members of her company. Those from her squad and the squads she had worked alongside she knew had been killed. At least a full squad managed to board a Valkyrie, but she didn't know where they ended up, whether another hangar on this ship or another vessel entirely; or if they had even made it to a ship at all. The rest she listed as missing in action – her company had been split all along the frontlines and she didn't see anyone else make it to the evac.

Only two other companies were left to interview after Diona, one of them still twenty men strong, the other five. She tuned out the speech of the interviewers and the Guardsmen once more and tried her best not to remember all that had happened on Tarnag.

The ground beneath Diona's feet was slippery and wet. This damned rain had been going straight for near on three days now. Her boots sank at least and inch into the mud with every step, she could only imagine her more stocky comrades had it even worse.

"Only a matter of time before this whole village turns into a bog, Sergeant. We should find somewhere a little better to hole up," Stim was loud over the vox, yelling so that he could hear himself when he talked.

Diona did the same, pulling the caster close to her mouth and shouting almost at the top of her lungs, "You know we can't so that. Top Brass says we stay here, we stay here."

"Man, fuck the Top Bra-" Stim stopped mid-sentence, letting the vox descend into barely audible static.

"Stim?" Hex's voice was quieter over the vox, he was stationed inside, away from the rain, "Fuck happened man; you slip over the edge of the tower?"

"I got a visual on something. Looks like its digging towards us," Stim's voice was slightly unsteady.

"Did your dumb ass just say digging towards us?" Diona heard Hex as he stood and walked to his side of the room, "I don't see shit that looks like something digging."

"Yeah Stim could you repeat that? You said something was 'digging?'" Diona said.

"Asshole's probably drunk off his ass, don't listen to him," another voice came over the radio.

"Shut the fuck up, Deckard," Stim yelled back, "I'm fucking serious, there's something coming."

"No Deck, he's right. I can see it. Something burrowing right beneath the surface," Hex spoke slowly as he saw the creature, "I'm watching it head down the main road right now. Might want to keep an eye out Sarge."

Diona barely had time to look to the North before whatever was burrowing came into her line of sight. The wet earth was shifted to the side as something surfaced. A hard insectoid shell was the first thing that peaked above the ground.

The hissing of the blast doors opening once more pulled Diona from her reverie. The sight of the Lictor faded from her mind as she finally saw the Stormtrooper's Officer enter the hangar. The man was heavily built, standing at least six feet tall. He was wide and stocky, and his presence demanded the full attention of the room. A cold air followed him and those who entered with him. He wore a long trench coat fitted with more belts, buckles and bandoliers than could ever be necessary. An exotic pistol unlike anything Diona had ever seen hung from his hip. Two tech-priests followed him in, tapping away on data-slates and looking up from the devices only occasionally to steal a glance at different soldiers. A woman dressed similarly to the man followed as well, but trailed further behind him, staying in the doorway.

The man took his time as he walked through the ranks of soldiers. He inspected each company, taking the time to look through each man and woman individually. He seemed to stay longer as the companies had fewer and fewer soldiers. Diona's inspection was not the longest of the soldiers, but the man took nearly ten minutes on her alone before moving on to the next company. Once his walkabout was finished he took a position in front of the line of Stormtroopers.

"Welcome to the High Charity, sons and daughters of the Imperium. I am Tyburn Graves, an Official of Our Emperor's Holy Inquisition."

There were murmurs amongst the men as Graves continued on. The Inquisition was something everyone had heard rumors of, but for every truth about the shadowy secret police of the Imperium, there were numerous thousands of falsehoods.

"You'll discern the truths of our organization soon enough, but for now I welcome you with open arms. Hiram and Tycho will show you to your quarters. There are hot showers and meals waiting there. Anyone who needs further non-emergency medical attention will be cared for once they've reached their quarters." He gestured towards the tech-priests by his side, which had finished with their data-slates and were now scanning the crowd, "Welcome to the Inquisition."


Diona let out a heavy breath as the water splashed across her back. Her nearly bleached blonde hair, now free of the tight bun her uniform required, fell halfway down her torso. The hot water felt like absolute bliss after the past few weeks of near constant combat on Tarnag. This had been only her fifth shower since the beginning of the siege nearly nine months ago. Her stomach was fuller than it had been since before the fighting had begun.

She sat on the floor of the small showering room, not wanting to turn the steaming water off. As she rested her back against the wall and began to drift away into her dreams, too tired to even move after the rest of her day.

"Throne damn it!" Diona tried to roll the Lictor's corpse off of Deckard, but the creature wouldn't budge, "Hex, Stim, get over here and help me lift this fucking thing!"

The overgrown insect had put up one of the hardest fights Diona had ever had. The body parts of the three men it had taken with it were still scattered around the small ruined village. Deckard's upper half was covered in much and blood, but visible from underneath the body of the monster.

"You shifted it!" Deckard howled as Diona gave another shove, "You're putting more weight on the broken one!"

"Well we can't very well roll it off into the wall, can we Corporal?" Spaz yelled over the rain that had only gotten more intense over the past minutes.

"I'm gonna kick your ass when I get out of here!" Deckard made a number of obscene gestures as Spaz walked over and took position next to Diona, "I still have one good leg left!"

"Sure you are, buddy. Okay, one, two…three!" Diona put her whole body into moving the beast, managing to push the main body over the hump that was Deckard's shattered left leg.

"Did you find anything else in the village?" Diona asked in between bouts of pushing, "Or was he the only one?"

"No I think this one's it. We're gonna need to – " Spaz was cut off by another shriek from the wounded soldier as one of the Tyranid's appendages dragged across his leg. He continued once the scream had died down, "We'll need to get back to company headquarters. I'm not carrying Deck all the way there."

Diona woke slowly from her dream unaware of how long she had been asleep, but hot water was still pouring over her head. It was a few seconds before she grasped at the handle to turn the shower off and stood from her slumped over position. The cold metal sent a chill up her spine as she stepped out into her bunk room to find a fresh set of fatigues instead of the ones she had arrived in, covered in gore and muck.

The hall outside of her room was filled with conversation. Soldiers of many different creeds leaned against doorframes and walls, conversation bouncing back and forth between them like a rubber ball. Mordian Guards remained in their crisp uniforms while the Maccabian Janissaries wore casual clothes, the only proof they were soldiers being their silver masks hanging from their hips.

Diona drew little attention as she slipped through the crowd of men and women. A few men dipped their heads in acknowledgement, a gesture she returned with no thought. A few pairs of eyes followed her through the hall, something that she had grown accustomed to since her young adulthood. The attitude did not last the further down the large circular corridor Diona travelled though. The quarters that housed the soldiers fresh from Tarnag were quiet, save for the echoes of other conversations and more dire discussions carried out in whispers. Some of the ship's soldiers had migrated this direction to keep the new men company, but they could do little to embolden the majority of them.

Diona leaned against a wall nearby a small group of soldiers. Something about them seemed familiar, but she couldn't quite place it. They wore fatigues or sweatsuits from the ship and sat cross-legged in a small circle.

"Oranti?" one of the men asked while studying Diona's facial features, "You look Oranti."

"Yeah; I was reinforcing the Cadian 1042nd," Diona slid down the wall into a crouch, "Though I think I'm all that's left now. You?"

"Oranti 3rd Infantry," another of the group spoke up, "Not much left of us either. Whoever took our uniforms left us our charms though," the man held up a small totem attached to his pendant, as did the others in the group. Each of them depicted a different plant or animal from their home world.

Diona reached for the front pocket of her shirt where her charm should have been. The small totem of a hound had been replaced exactly where it should have been. She fastened the necklace behind her head and let it drop into place.

The next hours were filled with occasional chatter, but mostly spent in silence. The ends of campaigns, especially those as grueling as Tarnag had been, had a tendency to be filled with silence. Diona retired to her quarters, blessedly not shared with anyone else, and took no time falling asleep.


Wow so I finally finished this. I've been working on this on and off for about a year now, tossing ideas back and forth. Loosely based off of a campaign in Warhammer 40k: Dark Heresy that I'm GM-ing, I was finally inspired to sit down and write this thanks to a Reddit comment. Obviously its not going to be the exact same but hopefully it will follow the same story beats.

I look forward to sharing more of this and the other stories that I'm working on with ya'll as I get back into writing.

IMPERIAL-APPROVED THOUGHT FOR THE DAY: NO MAN IS INNOCENT, THERE ARE SIMPLY MULTIPLE LEVELS OF GUILT.