The long chamber that served as their armoury was the only secure place the Sisters could all assemble. Tzarine looked down the ranks, looking in the waiting, curious eyes.

"Locked down, Sister," Morgana said. "No surveillance. We can speak freely."

Tzarine said nothing for a while, trying to work out what to say. "You didn't choose to be here," she said finally, slowly. "I chose for you. I don't think any of us is happy or proud of the things we've done. The Word Bearers took us in and protected us, but I feel unclean. I've worked out a way to get us away from them, to become our own people again. But it has risks. We may die, we may even die for nothing. And there is a price to be paid. I'm not going to force anyone to follow me, this time.

"Our dear Apostle has come up with a plan that will summon a daemonic army to ravage Senaav. Against those odds, we all know what will happen; Exterminatus. It'll take time for the orders to be exchanged, though. Korgar intends to use that time to load himself, his men and various important equipment onto the Thunderhawks he has hidden here. We'd be coming along, of course. He doesn't want to lose his newest toys.

"If we all agree, this is exactly what shall occur, with one minor alteration; Korgar and his Word Bearers will not leave this world alive. We shall take his cruiser for ourselves, and render ourselves free from anyone's control or authority."

"Take a Word Bearer cruiser?" said Ysabella dubiously. "You've seen what Korgar's turned the insurgents into. It'll be crewed by fanatics that will die before submitting to us."

Tzarine smirked. "Not exactly. A normal Strike Cruiser would be swarmed and at risk of being destroyed against this fleet, so they commandeered a pirate ship. There's a few Word Bearers on board to ensure the captain stays loyal, but I think he should be more accommodating to us."

"A pirate ship more capable of handling an Imperial blockade than a Strike Cruiser?" asked Helga. "What is this miracle ship?"

"The Slaughter-class cruiser Soul Venom."

Morgana breathed in sharply. "It has the original engine core?"

Tzarine nodded. Everyone else just looked blank.

"The Slaughter-class was designed using an experimental device called the Skartix Engine Coil," Morgana explained. "The Forge World that built it was bombed and the designs lost, so only a few were built. They're one of the fastest human warships ever built; all the firepower and defences of a cruiser, but she can keep pace with a frigate. There were even theories that she can outpace an Eldar ship if she overcharged her drives. No wonder Korgar wanted it."

"So there's a good ship waiting for us. You skipped the important bit," Ysabella remarked coolly. "Even with the casualties they suffered against the Templars, there's still thirty of us and about thirty of them. Not good odds. How are we meant to kill them?"

"We can take a few down, no problem," Helga mused. "Surprise will help. But she's right, Sister. Those aren't good odds. Like it or not, in a straight fight, they're stronger, tougher and faster than us."

Tzarine sighed. No avoiding it. "We turn the daemons against them."

"How?"

She fumbled around her neck, and drew out the necklace. The crimson gem somehow managed to shimmer obscenely in the light. "With this. I was… given it, inside the Gate."

Dead silence.

"I lied," she admitted, fighting tooth and nail to keep her voice steady. "When I went through the Gate, I was tested. Tested to breaking point. I held on, I refused to fall and worship the Ruinous Powers. But I'd seen what they could do. I couldn't just walk away. I fought until they gave me something. This… I have command of a daemon. A powerful one. She can turn the daemonic horde against the Word Bearers and wipe them out."

"All that railing against Chaos…" Helga growled. "All those warnings and threats and orders, and you'd ignored them yourself?"

"I said there was a price!" Tzarine snapped back. "I came to my senses. I wanted to use this, but I didn't. I refused, because it would spell doom for me and maybe you as well. But this is it. One deal, and we're free of the Word Bearers. We'll never have to play-act for Korgar again, never have to engage in pointless killing… we can finally free ourselves. Be ourselves, not what the Imperium or Chaos would try to mould us into."

Silence.

"We have three options. We can go with Korgar. Follow his plan. Accept our fate, and play his tune… and someday either lose our battles and fall to Chaos, or be killed when he loses patience. We can stay here and fight, alone, try to free ourselves and almost certainly die in the process. Or… we can make this one deal. Just one sacrifice. We're here because we refused to die at someone else's whim. I don't want to die. I don't want any of you to die."

"I for one don't want to die either," said Helga finally. "I'm nothing if not pragmatic. Daemonic allies are not what I'd choose, but maybe you're right. Maybe we need to make this one sacrifice. Assuming we can trust this daemon of yours."

Tzarine snorted. "Trust? A daemon? Don't be stupid. But there would be no purpose in making a grand show of declaring fealty, and then selling me out at the first opportunity. This would be it. One-off. No more deals, no more daemons, no more Chaos. Just us."

"Entirely free?" came a quiet voice.

Tzarine looked at Rhia, tense, waiting.

"I'm sick of this, Tzarine," Rhia continued, and Tzarine felt her stomach lurch as she saw the anger in her eyes. "I trusted you to lead us. You were always a good commander, but this has gone from bad to worse. We've been declared heretics, are pretending to be heretics. We've killed men of the Imperium. And now you propose to work with the Great Enemy and watch a planet burn for the sake of getting out with our skins. I'll follow you through this, Tzarine, but then it ends. Then I want to be free of you."

Tzarine opened her mouth to reply, but Rhia was already storming out. None stopped her.

There was an awkward silence. Tzarine was painfully aware that there was neither condemnation nor support from her assembled troops.

It was Zekka that broke the silence. "We don't really have any choice, do we?" she said wryly. "We've been running from death since we landed on this death-trap of a planet. I don't see any other options that won't leave us as dead or slaves. I'm with you. I think we all are."

Tzarine nodded slowly.

"But when we're out of the immediate danger zone…" Zekka added, "We'll need to talk. All of us, to work out where we're going. Because you're right. You've been making all our decisions. Once that made sense, when we had a fixed goal, fixed orders… but we don't. We don't know where we're going, or why, or how."

Tzarine nodded again. "But until then…"

"Until then, you're in command. So. What are your orders, Sister?"

"Be ready for combat at any time. Nothing more yet, we don't want to alert them. I have the most work to do… dismissed."

The crowd of Sisters dispersed; save Helga, who continued looming. "What?" Tzarine said bluntly.

Helga waited until the last of the others had left. "You've got a wonderful attitude there, Sister," she remarked coolly. "Really makes me feel wanted and appreciated."

"Don't give me that. You've never wanted my friendship before, now you're taking the moral high ground? You're a psychopath, Helga. I'm a soldier. There's a difference."

"Less than you think. Do you want my input or not?"

Tzarine fought down her annoyance and nodded curtly.

"We need Golic."

"…you've got a terrible sense of humour," said Tzarine finally.

"I'm not joking. Golic's not one of them. We'll need him."

"Just because you've got a good rapport with another mindless killer…" Tzarine's eyes narrowed, though. There was something off about Golic. There had been from the beginning. "I accept that he's no true Word Bearer. Why would he be willing to help us?"

"Oh, come on! Use your brains, Tzarine!" Helga snapped impatiently. "He's as godless as they come. Why would someone like that leave whatever outfit they'd been in and join up with a fanatic like Korgar? He wants something. Maybe we can help him get it."

"Maybe." Tzarine was unconvinced. "I'll think about it." It meant 'no', and Helga could see it, but the Seraphim evidently didn't feel like arguing. For a moment, Tzarine worried about that, then she cast the thought aside. She had other things to deal with.

Not least figuring out how to contact Llthaanhir.

The answer, she thought as she left, was once again a lie.

"Go back through the Gate?" Korgar sounded dubious. "Why?"

Tzarine took a breath, running over what she'd rehearsed. "Because it's time."

Korgar shook his head, baring his fangs slightly. "You rejected the Gods before, Corpse-daughter. They let you leave unharmed, so I concluded that they had a plan for you. You were not ready. I still believe you are not ready. Not in your soul, not in your heart, not in your mind."

"Maybe. But things change." Tzarine glanced towards the door of Korgar's chamber, towards the crossroads and the seething mass of cultists still out there. The mass of victims. "We're not going to be here much longer. Wherever we go will be undoubtedly less friendly and understanding than you have been."

The Apostle considered this. "The temple-world we are destined for is no place for the unbeliever, it is true. Very well. You have my permission to pass through the Gate. But I trust that this time, you will find some wisdom and enlightenment." He growled a few words in his own tongue, and then made a dismissive gesture. "The guards will allow you through. The attack will commence within the hour. Be swift."

"Llthaanhir!"

Tzarine shivered. She'd forgotten the curious, bone-gnawing cold of the immaterium, and there was more than a little anxiety in her heart. What if she'd been lied to? She'd barely escaped from the Azure Gate the first time. If the daemonette would not answer…

"And thus she returns," a voice purred from behind her.

Tzarine spun, adrenalin flooding her system, weapons in hand, before slowly forcing herself to relax. For a moment, she wondered how the daemon had snuck up on her in this endless plain… then she abandoned the question. This was the warp, trying to make sense of it would only lead to insanity. "So it seems," she replied tightly.

Llthaanhir smirked toothily, her daemonette-form moving as though in a slow dance that hypnotised the eye. "What do you wish of me, Battle Sister? For a time I thought you had reneged on our deal."

"There was no deal," Tzarine pointed out. "You swore obedience to me. I never offered anything in return."

"Perhaps." She began circling Tzarine. "What do you wish of me?"

"Do you know Korgar's plans? To sacrifice ten thousand souls and open a rift?"

"I do." She paused. "His sorcerer intimated the information to us."

"I want you to kill Korgar. And all of his men."

This brought the daemon up short for a moment, before she smiled a razor-edged smile. "An interesting opportunity. You wish us to eliminate your enemies… while leaving you untouched, no doubt."

"Can you do it?"

Llthaanhir stretched languidly, making Tzarine have to fight to keep her gaze on this soulless, black eyes. "Yes."

"I suppose… asking you to leave after that is too much."

Llthaanhir laughed. "Senaav will burn, Tzarine. Nothing can stop that now. The skeins of fate are too tightly woven. Even the Great Sorcerer would be hard-pressed to stop it now. All that remains is to see who will survive it. No. It is not within my power to hold back the hordes. Senaav will die."

"Then nothing further is required. I have no further need of you." Tzarine turned back to the shimmering portal, relieved to find that it was still there.

"Tzarine," Llthaanhir murmured. "One thing yet remains. This will give me passage to the material realm. Do you wish for me to accompany you?"

Silence.

"While you bear the heart, I am your faithful slave. You will not always have the Gate. I could be by your side, offer my council and strength at any time."

Tzarine touched the portal, and vanished.

Llthaanhir faded. If Korgar were to die… his patrons would have to be… persuaded to look the other way…