Started this as a side project, and it somehow turned into my NaNoWriMo story for the year. My goal is 50,000 words by the end of the month, but I think we all know that something like 30,000 is a more realistic figure. If anyone wants to help beta read this, PM me.

[x]

Rat glanced nervously at the bulkhead behind him. The cockpit of the shuttle was silent for now, but the occupant had been noisy for at least a half hour before the current lull, and given the fact that, even deprived of its weapons, it could and would strip him to bone in seconds.

He sighed. The pay was good, and it was too late to do anything now. He had taken the job to deliver the occupant of the cage to the pre-arranged rendezvous point, and if he tried to back out now, he would be executed. No, he would be murdered. Execution implied that his employers had the force of the law behind them, which they most certainly did not.

As the shuttle crossed some invisible line, a voidship ahead light up its running lights. It appeared out of the void in a blaze of light, revealing a massive construction that dwarfed Rat's shuttle. Biting his lip, he spun the shuttle onto a diagonal vector that took him toward the docking bay of the massive ship.

Feeling a slight drag as he killed his velocity and pulled into the hangar, Rat winced as the passenger behind him roared. It clearly didn't like the acceleration. He shuttle shook as a docking clamp grabbed his vessel out of the void and slowly moved it toward an airlock.

Rat and his passenger sat in silence for several minutes as the docking procedures were carried out and the pressures were equalized. A light came on. Rat stood up, as agreed, and opened the bulkhead.

He was greeted by the sight of a Tyranid Warrior. The beast stood in a cage, chained, mouth open.

It roared at him. Rat flinched, then looked back at the Warrior as the silence of the Void returned. Chained and caged as it was, there was nothing the creature could do to him.

Unless it had some biomorph concealed that the men who cut off its Venom Cannon, Boneswords, and Tail Strangler had missed. It could have a prehensile tongue, capable of reaching through the wide gaps in the bar of the cage and taking off his head, or a spore sac that-

Rat shook his head. He needed to focus on completing the job. He walked around the cage and pressed a button on the far wall of the shuttle, and the rear ramp of the craft slowly lowered.

Standing on the other side were three figures. As they stepped forward, it became clear that the two in either side were servitors, judging by their clumsy, mechanical gait. The figure in the center walked much more smoothly, and the light of several argumentations shined out from under the red hood concealing his features.

A mechanical tendril shot out from a slit in the side of the robe and curled toward Rat's head. He flinched as it stopped an inch from his eye. Half his vision went red, then the tendril vanished.

"I see you are the promised messenger." The center figure said. The voice was so thickly layered with mechanical overtones it took Rat a moment to realize that the voice was in fact human.

Or had once been human, anyway.

"Y... Yes." Rat said, as the center Machine-thing looked at him. He had seen priest of the Adeptus Mechanicus before, but none of them gave off the disturbing aura that this creature did.

"You will receive your payment, as promised." The Machine-thing said. "I will now retrieve my specimen. Is this acceptable?"

Rat nodded.

The second his head started moving, a massive mechanical arm appeared, lowering itself from the ceiling outside the shuttle. It extended through the open rear of the ship and deposited a large chest on the floor. Then it reached for the cage holding the Warrior and picked it up, lifting the multi-ton container and its occupant into the air. It began to move toward the exit of the shuttle. The Machine-thing stepped smoothly out of the way, and Rat scrambled to do likewise. The arm moved the cage out of the shuttle, then lifted it out of sight.

"Our business is concluded." The Machine-thing said. "You have fifteen minutes to get off my ship."

Rat gulped and hurried toward the cockpit. He sped through the pre-flight checks and took off as quickly as he could. He was so focused on getting out that he didn't even see the warning on his console as point defense systems of the massive vessel charged up and blew him to flaming atoms.

No Differences

Experiment Log:

Day 1: Subject acquired. The... loose ends were cauterized, and experimentation has commenced. The Tyranid Warrior (Tyranicus gladius) was injected with a unique mixture of Human genetic material and nanomachines salvaged from a Dark Age ruin. While I maintain a considerable supply of these nanomachines, I will be most frustrated if this experiment fails. If successful, the flexible nature of the Tyranid biology will allow it to serve as a host for the replication of the nanomachines. The human genetic material is necessary to provide the necessary authentication for the nanomachines to activate; they appear to be (wisely) restricted to human use.

Day 2: Subject demonstrates no significant change. The nanomachines have spread throughout it's body, but most remain in a passive state. Increasing dosage levels of human genetic material.

Day 3: The Increased dosages appear to have had the desired effect, as more of the Nanomachines are activating. I am increasing the dosage again and will continue administration.

Day 7: The nanomachines have finally begun integrating themselves into the tissue of the subject. I have decided to inject an additional dose of nanomachines and more gene material.

Day 10: The subject appears to have become sluggish, and its body temperature is increasing. Its containment chamber was cooled to compensate. It also appears to be metabolizing its food much faster. I am increasing its rations, and including the minerals needed for the nanomachines to replicate.

Day 20: The subject has become more sluggish, and there appears to be evidence that its immune system has begun to fight the nanomachines. I have administered suppressant drugs, but only time will tell if the subject and the nanomachines will survive.

Day 35: Success. I have observed the first replication of a nanomachine within the host of the subject. The energy equations don't seem quite right, but that is presently of little consequence.

Day 50: The subject's immune system is losing to the nanomachines. The machines appear to have infiltrated the immune centers of the subject and are connecting themselves to the tissue. Most interesting. The subject continues to display sluggish behavior.

Day 75: The nanomachines have integrated themselves into the tissue of the subject completely, and can now be observed within the cells. They appear to be affecting several key functions, but I can't tell exactly what effect they are having. Further study is warranted

Day 100: The subject appears to be in poor health. It is barely moving except to eat, and it has begun molting carapace. Nanomachines can be found in the material of the shed carapace, though they are resisting all efforts at extraction.

Day 150: The subject has stopped moving entirely. I have connected it to intravenous nutrition and hydration supplies, though there appears to be nothing more I can do at present.

Day 175: No change noted. Subject is still not moving.

Day 200: Subject has begun losing mass at a greater rate than its metabolic and excretory processes would indicate. Where exactly this mass is going I have yet to determine. The subject's comatose state continues.

Day 250: The subject's fifth and sixth limb have atrophied significantly, and its body mass is now less than a ton.

Day 275: I have taken a genetic sample of the Subject, and it is no longer Tyranid. The nanomachines appear to have integrated significant amounts of human genetic material into its gene code. What connection this has, if any, to its present physical state is unknown, but the obvious guess is that the two are deeply connected.

Day 300: The subject now possess more human DNA than a month ago, and weighs less than half a ton. Its fifth and sixth limbs have disappeared completely, and it has lost its teeth and claws.

Day 325: The subject's neurological activity has gone wild, though its physical activity is still zero. Its mass has stabilized, however, as has the atrophy of its body.

Day 365: The subject's body collapsed, revealing a humanoid that appeared to be gestating within. How I missed this on my scans I have no idea but- They're coming. Why NOW?

[x]

The target ship shook as the Exorcist-class Grand Cruiser blasted it with lance fire. Such precision weapons were not really necessary at such short range, but they held with the difficult task of disabling the engines of a ship thousands of kilometers distant without compromising its reactor core.

Rogue Trader Augustus Knight, formerly of the Imperial Inquisition, sat in his shock couch in his Shark Attack Boat, waiting for the craft to launch. He hated this part.

A squadron of Starhawk bombers was bombing and strafing the target ship from close range, destroying its point defense capability. As soon as its drive failed under the lance bombardment, he would launch, along with his retinue, to board the enemy's ship and neutralize its master.

His target in this operation was a known Heretek, a high-ranking member of the Adeptus Mechanicus who had gone rouge more than a decade ago. Augustus network of spies had reported that he had claimed to be on the verge of creating a new form of Daemon Engine, something that Augustus could not tolerate.

With a shake, the Shark Assault Boat launched into space. Augustus felt himself be pressed into his seat as the craft accelerated. At this range, there would barely be any time to accelerate before impacting the enemy ship. They would have to pass through the point defense zones at well below the recommended speed. They were making up for it by launching many more Shark Boats than usual.

They were banking on the fact that the Heretek ship would be mostly crew by Servitors, and would have few to no Armsmen aboard. He was still landing upwards of six thousand elite Stormtroopers and Skitarii, probably enough to storm the ship, unless they encountered any unexpected surprises.

Augustus looked over his Retinue, secured in their shock couches.

Simon, his Psyker. Augustus had recruited young man from the Agri World Photoria at age twelve, and was one of the strongest and most controlled Psykers that Augustus had ever encountered. The black-haired young man wielded Pyromancy and Biomancy like another might use a laspistol, though he struggled with other disciplines. Augustus had forbidden him from studying Daemonology, but had forced him learn a considerable amount of Theosophamy, much to his chagrin.

The young man's powers had been helpful more times than Augustus could count in the seven years since his recruitment. He had helped blast the retinue out of tight spots and banish Daemons, and had been well on his way toward becoming an Inquisitor in his own right when Augustus had been 'granted' his Warrant of Trade.

Maren, his warrior-adept. Skilled with both gun and blade, the woman refused to remove her helmet under most situations. She spoke with her shuriken weapons, which she had scavenged from fallen Eldar warriors, more often than with her soft, melodious voice. Despite her lack of teamwork skills, she was a lethal combatant.

Magos Venatus, his techpriest. The machine-man had elected to join Augustus on his travels beyond the realm of the Imperium, bringing a large number of Skitarii and tech-acolytes, with him. He was eccentric, but effective, and dreamed of finding a lost STC template to add to the collection of the Mechnicius for the betterment of mankind.

The rest of the Assault boat was filled by Stormtroopers. Augustus had lost access to the Inquisitorial Stormtroopers when he had been 'retired' from the Inquisition, and he had yet to rebuild his retinue and forces. However, there were several elite outfits that lent their services to Rogue Traders spreading the light of the Emperor beyond the border of the Imperium, and Augustus had hired the services of one of the best of them.

The Assault Boat shook as it absorbed a hit from a defensive turret. Augustus hated assault boat rides. The only thing worse was riding a boarding torpedo. At least teleporters were quick.

The acceleration of the Assault Boat suddenly reversed, hard. Augustus was pushed against his acceleration couch.

The boat impacted. Inertial dampeners flared, but it was like going through a ground car crash. A second later, the melta cutters on the front of the ship fired, and it began to drill into the hull of the enemy ship.

As Augustus began to climb out of his acceleration couch, sevros in his power armor whirring, the interior of the Assault Boat began to grow uncomfortable hot. The atmosphere control systems on his power armor adapted, allowing him to focus on the mission.

He began advancing down the central corridor of the Shark, toward the slowly opening doors at the front of the ship, his retinue forming up around him.

[x]

Simon walked down the aisle of the assault boat behind his master, readying his psychic powers. He wore a suit of psionic amplifiers and inhibitors that, combined with the Psychic Hood built, gave him a strong layer of protection against the Perils of the Warp.

As the retinue reached the front of the assault boat, they began to climb down into the corridor of the enemy ship. Slagged metal lay cooling in puddles that covered much of the deck, but the sealed Void Suits worn by assault team protected them from the heat they radiated.

The Stormtroopers were forming up in a relatively clear section of the hallway. For a boarding operation of this scale, on platoon would stay behind and defend the Shark, while the other five platoons would stay together to advance into the ship. In this sort of operation, the idea was simply the elimination of enemy forces and the capture of key systems. An Engineseer with special training accompanied each platoon, and would upload data-weapons to seize control of enemy systems.

The stormtroopers would blow up anything the Engineseers couldn't capture.

Simon walked over to where Augustus and the rest of the retinue were forming up, staff in hand. Maren already had her sword and rifle drawn, and several mechanical tendrils surrounded Venatus, holding a variety of weapons.

"We're going for the core of the ship." Augustus declared, raising his Power Sword. "Our target could have started a ritual when he realized we were on his tail. We can't afford to let him finish it."

"Yes, sir." The retinue chorused.

"All squads, prepare to move out." Augustus shouted. "We're moving to the center of the ship."

The stormtroopers began to move out. As they did so, Simon closed his eyes and readied himself to unleash his psionic power. He imagined a tiny flame at the center of his mind, surrounded by everything else in his world. Then, one by one, he began to feed them into the flame, letting them burn away until the flame was surrounded by nothing but void.

And in that void, he found power.

Simon opened his eyes and fell back into formation.

Everything went well for about thirty seconds, until the first death robots appeared.

Five combat robots stormed out from around a corner toward the advancing company, guns blazing. They were humanoid, but with four arms, each ending in a weapon.

Three stormtroopers went down in a hail of las fire before they had time to fully process what was going on. Simon reacted almost immediately.

He reached into the stillness within himself and drew forth the power of the Warp. He flung a shimmering barrier across the space between the company and the automata. The next shots from the machines were deflected by the barrier as the stormtroopers sought what little cover was available.

As Simon began to feel the strain of maintaining the barrier pull on his mind, he retracted it to just protect the retinue and prepared a bolt of Witchfire.

Lasbolts cracked across the space around him, and Simon raised his hand. A stream of liquid fire shot forward, lancing across space and engulfing one of the automata. Smoke rose from it, and sparks poured from it like water as Simon swung the beam across the other war machines.

A fourth stormtrooper went down as Maren stepped out of the barrier, rifle raised. She fired a burst of lasers into the automata that Simon had focused his beam on, and it dropped, falling to the ground and began to leak a dark fluid. She switched targets as Simon dropped the barrier, and Venatus raised his forest of Mechadendrites and unleashed a storm of laser and plasma fire on the robots.

As two more machines dropped under the assault, Augustus raised his pistol. He pulled the trigger, and it made an odd keening sound, and a pencil thin bolt of light shot out and touched one of the automata. The machine struck exploded in flames, pieces of it raining across the hallway. Simon fired a bolt of witchfire into the last automata, dropping it with flames crawling across its body.

The company resumed its advance, leaving the dead where they fell with, a las bolt in the base of the spine to impede any attempted reanimation of them by the Dark Powers. Aboard a suspected Heretek ship, anything could happen.

After about a minute of further advance, the squad came to a massive set of blast doors blocking advance. A team of specialists carrying melta charges advanced and began planting them on the door, while the rest of the company took up defensive positions.

As the soldiers planted their charges, Simon raised his wristcomp and pressed a series of runes. A holographic map of the Heretek's ship appeared, acquired via scanning when they had lowered the enemy vessels Void Shields.

Simon zoomed in on the company on the display. Several companies were advancing into the ship in the area. Some had already met resistance, and most reported having slaughtered servitor and traitor crewmembers. Simon pressed a few more runes, and opened a list of ship systems and cogitation nets the boarding crew had brought under their control.

Most of it was incomprehensible to Simon, but Venatus had taught him perhaps more than was proper about the craft of technology. With that knowledge, Simon knew enough to be able to tell that the boarding party was doing very well in wrestling control of the ship away from the Heretek. Simon frowned as attack-codes brought another cogitator net under their control.

Was it possible they were doing too well?

The specialists retreated from the door, and with a low roar, followed by a rushing sound, the melta charges detonated, blowing glowing-hot holes in the door. After giving them a couple of seconds to cool, the specialists advanced again and placed bundled of shaped charges in the holes.

As the whole company retreated away from the door, trailing wires leading to the explosive bundles behind them, Simon watched three more tertiary subsystems fall to the attackers in quick succession. One of them he recognized as a point defense fire control cogitator net. There was no way that should have fallen so easily. As the cogitator was tasked to attack nearby systems, Simon sent a ping to his master.

"Sir, I think the Heretek wants us to reach his inner sanctum. He's allowing us to advance into his systems far too easily."

Inside his helmet, Augustus smiled. "Why do you think that might be?"

"Because it's a trap?" Simon said, nervousness creeping into his voice.

"Of course it's a trap, boy!" Augustus sent back. "How do you think he might intend to trap us?"

"Daemons come to mind." Simon responded. "As do murder cogitators and attack servitors. But he might just have flooded his entire sanctum with promethium and rigged a lighter to the door or something."

"Excellent." Augustus said, opening a channel to the entire e retinue. "Venatus, send me the scan results for the inner sanctum, and signal the ship, tell them to repeat the scans using the signaling gear we're carrying as amplifiers. We might have a trap on our hands."

"Affirmative, Rogue Trader." Venatus said. Nothing seemed to happen.

"I detect several large mass signatures in the inner sanctum." Venatus said, after a moment. "Shall we halt our advance and destroy the target from the ship?"

"No." Augustus said. "But we should accelerate our advance. Assault through the ambush. Blow the charges."

With a massive bang that seemed to shake the entire ship, the charges detonated, blasting one of the main doors separating the ship into three kilometer-long sections into shrapnel.

The company resumed their advance. The next challenge they encountered was a storm assault by several dozen combat servitors. Simon created a telepathic barrier, allowing the company to seek cover behind the pillars lining the massive corridor, while Venatus projected signals jamming the control frequencies for the servitors and sending them into brainlock.

The second the incoming fire slackened, Maren charged forward and began cutting into the machines with gun and sword, tearing them to pieces. Simon supported her with bolts of witchfire, while Venatus used his array of weapons to blast servitors apart and the stormtroopers provided heavy yet precise hotshot lasgun fire.

As soon as the last servitor hit the ground, the company resumed its advance, this time leaving no one behind.

[x]

The experiment awoke.

She looked down at herself. Her's was a thin, frail body, and something in her mind suggested that there might be some reason that that wasn't right, but it was hers. She stood up on two of her limbs that seemed made for locomotion and began walking around her space. The floor was covered in a strange grey dust, which tickled the experiment's feet as she walked around it in.

After a few seconds, she realized where she was. She was in a cage, made for containing something. She wasn't entirely sure why, but she didn't want to be in a cage. She walked to the front of the cage and looked at it. There were thick, widely spaced bars, clearly meant to hold some large, extraordinarily strong creature. There was a locking mechanism on the front of the cage, a massive latch of shiny silver metal.

The experiment reached down and opened the latch. It was surprisingly easy, which bothered her, although she had no idea why. Should that have been a good thing?

She walked out of the cage and looked around. She was surrounded by all manner of incomprehensible devices, covered in blinking lights and glowing runes. They reached above her head and, after several minutes of walking, she came to the conclusion that they formed some sort of maze around her. She could see tall doors at either end of the room, but she had no idea how to reach them.

Abruptly, a low sensation seemed to buzz through her head. She wasn't sure what it meant, but she knew it felt wrong somehow, and she could somehow feel the direction of its origin. She knew she didn't want to go anywhere near it.

Suddenly, several low booming sounds shattered the silence. They were muffled, as though far away, and something in the experiment's mind labeled them as explosions. Slowly, she began walking in the general direction of the explosions. As she did so, the buzzing in her mind began to intensify. Briefly, she wonder what it was.

There was another explosion, and strange sounds began drifting through the wall that had formed the back of her cage. The experiment froze in place, listening. There were frequent, overlapping, cracking sounds, strange keening sounds, the occasional scream, and roars.

This went on for some time, with the experiment frozen in a mixture of fear and interest. As minutes passed, the crackings became less frequent, and there seemed to me more screams and roars.

Then one of the tall doors at the end of the room slid open. A second later a massive, blood red monster covered in bronze armor and carrying an axe dripping with blood charged into the room.

Something within the experiment recognized this as an enemy. One thought flashed through her mind. Kill.

[x]

Simon retreated through the door with the rest of the retinue, the massively oversized bloodletter hot on their heels. The attack had been going so well, too, until the demons showed up.

The retinue and their company had met up with another two companies of stormtroopers for the final assault on the inner sanctum of the Heretek, then breached the doors and attacked. They had been met by battle-automata and waves of attack servitors. The disciplined stormtroopers tore the robots to pieces as Venatus jammed their control systems, but they had never been more than a diversionary measure.

The real blow came when the Heretek completed a daemon summoning ritual.

Simon watched as the Heretek's body exploded, turning into a Warp portal. Simon flung a lump of psychic power into the portal, but it was like trying to fight a waterfall with a fire hose. Daemons poured through into the ship, overwhelming the Stormtroopers in minutes. Simon set a self-weaving repair enhancement over the portal, which was not the best-crafted that he had seen, but there were already too many demons aboard the ship. All the other companies of stormtroopers were enroute to stamp out the infection.

But that didn't do Simon any good if they were eaten before they got there.

"This way!" Augustus shouted, gesturing toward one of the side doors as he blasted a bloodletter with his strange keening pistol.

Venatus wasted no time hacking into the door controls and opening the massive doors. The firewalls were weak, and he was able to open it quickly. In that time, two squads of stormtroopers died, many of them screaming as daemons tore them apart. As the door opened, the retinue dashed through the door.

However, a massively oversized bloodletter, carrying a massive, bloody axe, noticed them and turned toward them. As it charged, Venatus tried valiantly to close the door, but the daemon crossed the threshold before he could, and he fell back with the rest of the retinue.

Just as the demon entered, something shot out from the dimness in the room, across the floor, and stopped in front of the daemon, swords up.

It was one of the strangest things that Simon had ever seen. It look like a Tyranid Warrior, perhaps of Hive Fleet Leviathan, with a primarily red color of its carapace with oddly shiny silver timing. It held a pair of swords up, facing the demon, in its upper pair of hands, and a heavy bio-gun in its lower heads. Its tail whipped from side to side, with tendrils snaking out from the tip.

It fired its bio-gun three times, and streaks of poisonous green shot toward the daemon and impacted. Two struck armor and shattered, but one impacted flesh. The daemons screamed and raised its axe as, incredibly, the tyranid charged the daemon, which was at least three times its height.

The creature jumped into the air as it closed on the daemon, slicing into it with its boneswords as it rose. Curls of warp energy flew from its sword as it cut through the daemon's flesh and armor. The daemon swung its axe at the tyranid, but missed.

As the tyranid reached the apex of its jump, it kicked off the tyranid, sending it flying away from the daemon. The daemon tied to swing its axe at the tyranid, but the creature fired its bio-gun into the daemon's arm, breaking its swing.

The tyranid fired its Bio-gun twice more as it hit the ground. Simon realized something important. The tyranid wasn't attacking them. Simon reached into his stillness and readied himself to server the daemon's connection to the warp.

He reached out with his psychic powers, and felt for the invisible 'string' linking the demon to the warp. It took him a few precious instants to find it, but once he did, he cut it immediately with his psychic power.

The demon screamed as its connection to the Warp was severed, and appeared to wilt slightly. The tyranid didn't hesitate to take advantage of the daemon's weakened state, charging it again.

As the tyranid clashed with the daemon again, Simon fired a bolt of witchfire at it. As the flames tore into the daemon, the tyranid fired its bio-gun twice into the daemon's face, blasting it apart.

The daemon fell slowly to the floor. As it did so, as if on cue, dozens of smaller bloodletters poured into the room. At least four attacked several members of the retinue, and six charged the Tyranid Warrior.

Simon unleashed a bolt of Witchfire at one of the daemons charging him, but it was scattered harmlessly off the daemon's bronze armor. As the first daemon closed with him, Simon poured psionic energy into his staff, feinted, and struck at the deamon.

The daemon fell for his feint, blocking it viciously. However, there was nothing to block, and Simon's Force strike connected with the bloodletter's face, smashing it and sending it flying across the floor as psionic energy sparked from Simon's staff.

The next damon reached him, and Simon jabbed twice, knocking down its weapon and striking it with sanctified energy. As the daemon reeled back, Simon thrust his off hand forward, releasing a bolt of psychic power that struck the weakened daemon and vaporized its material from.

Three more daemons closed, and Simon fought them with staff and mind.

However, it quickly became clear that he was being forced back, and away from the rest of the retinue. As he dropped his fifth daemon, he realized that he had lost sight of the rest of the team.

A massive daemon beast appeared in the doorway, with the figure of a bloodletter on its back. It charged, scattering the lesser daemons before it. Simon looked around, spotting the maze of machinery and cogitator back behind him. They would provide some cover.

Muttering a prayer to the Emperor for forgiveness, Simon turned and ran.

As he dashed into the maze, Simon placed an anti-daemon seal over the entrance of the maze and kept running, feeling the beginnings of a headache growing in his head. He had used too much psychic power too quickly, and soon he would be paying the price.

Simon ran for several minutes. He wasn't sure where he was going, but he knew he couldn't fight anymore. His Gift was overtaxed, and he needed to recuperate before diving into another melee.

Eventually, it dawned on Simon that he had no idea where her was going. The sounds of fighting were dying down. He needed to get back to the rest of the retinue.

As he dashed through am archway, Simon stopped short. He was back in the original Sanctum, and it was an abattoir. Slain stormtroopers and combat servitors lay scattered across the room, lying in pools of their own vial fluids. Simon could sense the essences of dozens of slain daemons in the area, though it appeared that the Warp Portal allowing the daemons onto the ship was closed.

Simon took a step forward into the room, then froze. Lying on the ground in the middle of an intense patch of slain daemon essence was a young woman. She was naked, and her body was covered in minor cuts. Her long black hair formed a halo around her head, and blood glistened on her skin.

Dashing forward to pull her out of the potentially corrupting essence, images rose unbidden in Simon's mind.

A young man, plagued by images he couldn't comprehend, wandering through the burning ruins of a farming village, bodies littering the ground around him.

Simon grabbed the woman and picked her up in a bridal carry. He began walking toward the edge of the miasma of daemonic energy.

Looking at mutilated bodies, feeling tears trailing down his cheeks. Hatred surging up in him, for the creatures that had done this and the world that allowed it to happen.

Simon cleared the edge of the cloud, and the girl groaned and shifted slightly in his arms.

A figure in armor of light, firing bolts of energy that banished the shadows. Everything went dark for a second, then the man of light was extended a hand toward him.

A tsking sound split the quiet.

"Simon, Simon, I see that even on the battlefield, you're getting busy." Simon's head snapped around. Maren was standing next to him, apparently having appeared out of nowhere. "How downright... Slaaneshi of you."

Simon went beat read inside his helmet. "It's... not like that. I just found her... And I was trying to get her out of a daemon miasma. I wasn't doing anything heretical... I..."

"I understand." Maren said. "But really, where did you find her?"

Simon tilted his head. "Right over there. She was unconscious and bleeding, so I decided to-"

"But where did she come from..." Maren mused. "Anyway, our ship is docking. We need to get off this thing. Venatus is going to pull an image of its cogitators, and then we're going to blow it to hell."

Then what he had done on the battlefield came crashing down on him. "I.. I ran away. I- I'm sorry. I-"

"Don't even start." Maren said, looking up from the inspection of the woman in Simon's arms. "We had all fallen back one way or another by the time you ran from that bloodcrusher. You fought longer than any of us, and you fought like an Avatar of Kh- like one of the Primarchs themselves."

"Oh." Simon said. "Well, what now?"

"We need to get back to the ship." Maren said. "Then we decide where to go from there."