A Light Against The Darkness

by nightbringer24

Remnants of a world called Cadia. A world called Remnant. Fate thrusts them together, and common cause finds them allied; the protection of humanity. But what awaits the forces of the Imperium of Man in this strange new world, cut off from humanity? What awaits Team RWBY and friends with these strange new visitors from the stars? But in the end, there is only war.

9. Chapter 8

The aircraft, which Velvet has been told is a Thunderhawk named Dorn's Wrath, comes to a stop on what she can only assume is a landing pad of some sort. The hydraulics of the landing gear makes the aircraft bounce slightly before it settles, and the engines power down from a roar, to a hum, to silence.

Velvet looks to Coco sitting next to her. Her team leader and friend has her sunglasses back on, but her mouth is set pensively. She says nothing, so neither does Velvet. She's too drained by everything she has experienced, and she knows that Coco is too. They're both silent as the Steel Drake Veterans stand up from their seats, their leader marching towards the ramp before he pulls a lever.

Hydraulics hiss and metal grinds on metal for a short time before the ramp opens, letting sunlight into the vehicle's bay. Then they exit, the Astartes leading the way, the Neophytes that had been put onboard following in their wake before the Kasrkin depart. As they walk out, one of the Cadian's stops, turning to look at them.

"Come on, you two." The soldier says softly, gesturing slightly with his hand.

Coco turns her head to look at Velvet, her sunglasses covering her face, before, wordlessly, she steps up from the seat, having to drop down slightly to get to the floor before she walks with her characteristic strut, the Kasrkin following behind her. Letting out a small sigh, Velvet looks at the floor as she climbs off her seat and turns to exit the vehicle. Her feet fall almost soundlessly against the metal floor, the once pristine metal scuffed and marked by dirt, dust and blood in places before she walks down the sloping exit afforded by the ramp.

Velvet lets herself move down the ramp, before she stops by colliding with Coco's back.

Quickly, Velvet raises her head to wonder why her teammate is stopped. Looking up, she easily sees why.

It's a town, a city even. That's what Velvet's mind immediately tells her. It has the walls of a town, tall and broad, towers bristling with defensive guns and guards manning the defences. As she looks, details become more clear: large skulls set in pale metal leer out from dark metal, while dual-headed eagles sprout from corners of towers and bastions, heads looking down in contempt at those below. Multi-barrelled guns aim high at the sky, along with the squat forms of multiple missile launchers. The walls have to be at least seventy-metres tall while the bastion towers reach nearly eighty.

Following the form of one of the towers down, Velvet lets her eyes look at the Cadian fort. It really is like a city. Buildings of myriad shapes and sizes are lined out and spaced with perfect precision, forming clear districts, blocks and highways. Large squat buildings she guesses as garages stand to one side around a vast rectangular area, where vehicles similar in shape and shape to the one the Cadians in Carterstown had, and many more of other shapes and sizes are mustered. She can see octagonal buildings seemingly sunk into the earth, through which she can see more Cadians entering and exiting, while set between the groups are buildings that look like a large number eight, with a tower on one end and a communication dish set in the middle.

She sees soldiers in groups, Velvet guesses as either squads or platoons, moving through various motions, performing fitness drills and marching in perfect order to shouted cadences. There's hundreds of them, and more people, in various forms of clothing and outfits moving to and fro around the fortress.

Velvet sniffs as she feels the wind shift… and instantly gags, Coco doing the same. An acrid smell, burning and cloying, assaults their noses and sense of smell. It comes from all directions of the fort, but up on the landing platform, it's mixed with other smells. The scent of burnt metal and spilled blood, ammunition propellent and smoke.

"What's the matter?" The Kasrkin, still standing near them as a warden, gun held over his shoulder as he stands next to a lift that trundles back upwards. "You never smelt promethium and plasma before?"

Fighting back a cough, Coco looks at the soldier in confusion. "Smelled what and what?"

Confusion comes to the man's face, his face twisting in puzzlement, before he lets out a short chuckle. Turning, Velvet hears him mutter something about 'hellhounds' before the lift stops at the top, opening its gate.

"Come on in, you pair." The man says, stepping into the device. "Let's get you with your friends."

---

Travelling down the building the landing pad is built on, Velvet can't wrap her head around the inside. It's a tangled mess of supports, struts and braces that look like a spider's web of metal and concrete. Counter weights drop down from the ceiling above, and the Faunus can see several different pipes leading to the roof. So it must be working towards something for the Thunderhawk above.

Coco lets out a low whistle of awe. "Man, this thing is huge. How long did it take to build this?" Coco pauses before she looks at the soldier beside her. "Scratch that. How long have you guys been here? On Remnant?"

"Remnant? That's what this place is called?" The Kasrkin thinks for a second before he shrugs. "I've heard stranger names. But to answer your question; the Kasrkin have only been planetside for a little over twelve hours. The rest have been here for a little over thirty-days planetside. Thirty-four I think."

"Just over a month?" Velvet asks in shock, turning to look at the soldier with an incredulous look that Coco shares. "You guys built all of… this is the size of a town! You got all that built up in a month?"

For his part, the Kasrkin just grins, showing off a few silvery looking teeth to the rest of his natural whites. "Adeptus Mechanicus knowhow, Cadian grit and determination, and Departmento Munitorum flat-pack construction. All working together for the protection of humanity, and the glory of the God-Emperor."

At the last few words, the soldier raises his right hand and flicks it over his left breast, over his heart, in a shape that almost looks like a bird, and Velvet notes that it looks like something from a shadow puppet show.

Seeing her look of confusion, the Kasrkin just chuckles. "Wow, you guys are far from us if you've never seen the Aquila before."

Unsure of what to say, Coco and Velvet just shrug their shoulders in a 'I guess so' gesture just as the elevator grinds to a halt. Moving easily, the soldier turns and unlocks the gate behind him, a set of double doors opening sideways automatically at the gesture.

Just before Velvet is blinded by the change in light levels, she's certain she hears the soldier say; "You two are in for a treat."

Blinded by the sudden increase of light, all Velvet can experience at first is a vibration that shakes her whole body and a roar that threatens to deafen her. 'Grimm!' Her mind screams at her, nearly forcing her body into fight mode. But as her eyes adjust to the natural light level and she looks in the sky, she sees the source of the noise. Three aircraft, small but aggressive looking, blurring through the sky above before they climb upwards and bank towards the mountains.

Velvet breathes out a sigh of relief at seeing what passes overhead. Brothers, but the noises the Cadian vehicles made are too aggressive for her to get used to. The Bullheads used in Beacon were loud, sure. It was a several tonne aircraft and it needed the sort of engines to lift that bulk, but they came nowhere near the same sort of noise level those aircraft made.

So Velvet turns, moving to join Coco, then stops at seeing a sight she should have expected but was still surprised to see.

"Thank you, young man! Thank you!"

The elder woman, who has to be the same height as Velvet minus her ears, dressed in the simple and hardy clothing of Valean frontier-folk. Her skin looks slightly like leather and tanned from years out in the sun, and her hair is silvery white. And tears of joy stream down her cheeks as she hugs the Kasrkin tight around the torso, her head only coming up to his chest.

For his part, the Cadian is… stunned. Velvet watches as his violet eyes flick down at the woman hugging him, then up and past her before going back down again. His mouth flaps open as his face contorts through almost every human emotion possible, and his hands are outstretched at his sides, not touching the woman hugging him, even as he keeps a tight grip on his rifle.

Velvet can't help the small giggle that comes to her lips as the soldier finally puts his arms down and gives the small, old woman a simple pat on the back. Coco obviously shares her mirth as she smiles.

"Guy can face down a Grimm horde like no-one's business but a little old lady giving him a hug makes him freeze." Coco says softly from the side of her mouth, a small smile playing at her lips at the awkwardness. "Talk about irony…"

Velvet can't help but nod along. Until her Faunus ears pick up a noise. A sort of… low-level humming. Definitely coming from an engine, not a human, and it's coming closer, quickly, from their left. Coco can hear it too, so both turn to try and see the source of the noise.

And both are stumped.

"Uh… Velvet?"

"Yeah, Coco."

"Was I hit on the head during the fight?"

"If you were, then I was too." Velvet replies. "Because… I can see a skull floating towards us."

That is the truth. Floating towards them out of the clear blue sky, a single human skull, if the shape and size tell the pair anything, floats down towards them. It is indeed a skull, suspended on some sort of small-scale hover unit, one eye-socket replaced with a large camera-like device, while the symbol of a winged skull is branded into the skull's forehead. The pair of student Huntresses take a step backwards in shock as it quickly drops down almost to their level. Glancing to the side quickly, Velvet sees that the elderly woman has moved on, leaving them alone with the Cadian.

"What's the matter?" He asks, sounding genuinely shocked. "You two never seen a servo-skull before?"

Velvet is about to ask what that is, easily guessing that it's the morbid object before her, before the camera flickers into life, its lens flashing to blue before a small beam of light projects out and moves down across Coco's face.

"What the hell?" The fashionista huntress cries out in shock. "What's it doing?"

"Recording you, I guess." The Kasrkin replies, stepping next to the 'servo-skull', regarding it bemusedly as it continues its task. "Looks like an identifier probe. Probably taking an ident and gene scan of you."

Its task complete, the hovering skull rotates slightly and sets its sight on Velvet. Again, the blue light projects the small beam that scans Velvet's face, moving up from her chin, up to her forehead, then up further to take in her Faunus ears. The beam flickers off when it reaches the tips of Velvet's ears, and the girl is certain that a confused expression is on the skulls face. But before she can say anything, it rotates completely and hovers away and towards an approaching party of figures, whose predominant colours are black and red.

"Trouble's heading our way." Coco says softly to Velvet, shifting her posture to the sort she used when dealing with trouble. Which is a very relaxed and open pose, and is fairly often too. For herself, all Velvet can do is shift herself behind Coco. Seeing the people approaching them, she feels the need to make herself as unseen as possible.

There are six of them approaching; five soldiers in rounded body armour, like the ones worn by the Kasrkin except more rounded and archaic looking, painted a jet black, trimmed with gold, while a pair of segmented pauldrons, red under black, sit on squared off shoulders. Their faces, masking whether they're men or women, are protected by face-masks, a bone white colour, while everything else above is covered by scarlet berets and bright emerald green eye lenses. In their hands, they carry what Velvet can only assume is a variant of the Kasrkin's heavy duty lasguns, while their apparent leader carries what looks like a pistol version of a bolter in one hand and a sword at their hip.

The sixth person…

"You two will accompany us, now." The woman says, her violet eyes staring at both girls coldly. "You would do well not to resist, for your own sakes and for the sake of everyone else."

It's like Velvet is looking at a female version of Commissar Schreiber. But… more.

Her face is as pale as Professor Goodwitch's, but angular and sharp in shape, with a bob-cut of jet black hair underneath a black and scarlet officer's cap. Her uniform is black all over, except for the embroidered gold lace on the torso of her jacket, the gold and red trim of her greatcoat and the gold epaulettes on her shoulders. Various medals, made from gold and silver and sitting on ribbons of numerous colours sit on her left breast.

In front of her, Velvet feels Coco begin to tense up, and she silently pleads with her team leader not to do anything drastic. But, as quickly as the feeling flairs up, it recedes, and Coco relaxes.

"You know where our friends are?" Coco asks, crossing her arms across her chest, earning a nod from the female commissar.

"I do. Now, if you'll follow us."

"We'll guard them, commissar-captain." The Kasrkin says, moving to stand next to the two members of Team CFVY, his gun held in his hands.

A small but gruff snort comes from one of the woman's guards. "You couldn't even protect-"

"Stop." The commissar-captain snaps out at the guard, making Velvet flinch with the hardness in her voice. "Don't even think of finishing that thought." She turns to look at the soldier in front of her. "All right, trooper. I'll let you supply your own guard for these two to supplement my own."

The Kasrkin nods his head before he brings the fingers of his left hand, right hand still holding the pistol-grip of his gun, before he lets out a sharp, three-tone whistle. Two sharp short blasts then a long one.

At an instant, Velvet's double pair of ears pick up the sound of multiple pairs of boots running hard along the concrete of the airfield they are on before she sees bodies move into position surrounding the group. Six Kasrkin, lasguns ready. Some have their rebreathers on, others don't, but from the exposed faces, Velvet can see the tension set in their jaws.

"Is this suitable, commissar-captain?" The first Kasrkin asks, looking at the woman as she casts a critical eye over the gathering of extra soldiers as they form a cordon around Coco and Velvet, before she nods.

"Suitable." She agrees before she turns to look at the two student Huntresses. Velvet can't help but swallow the sense of trepidation at the sight of the woman, especially as the servo-skull moves to float over her right shoulder. "Now… you two will be escorted, under guard, to the rest of your team. Failure to cooperate… will not be accepted."

Glancing from the woman to the soldiers around her, Velvet has to agree to one thing: their cooperation is going to happen on way or another.

---

Before she and Coco are essentially forced under guard to wherever they are going, Velvet wondered where the other Kasrkin had come from, and the old woman too for that matter. As the large group walks along the tarmacked surface of what is obviously an airstrip, she quickly sees why.

Under the lee of the silent heavy lander, the large aircraft acting akin to a mother hen watching her chicks, the evacuees of Carterstown are all grouped together in a cordon. And the noise is tremendous. Velvet knows that the first evacuees from the town arrived hours ago, the evening before, but the cries and shouts of joy at families and friends being reunited after such a horrible night have not diminished.

Surrounded by simple, waist high stone and metal barriers, the townspeople are kept together, watched over by more Cadians, many in the same khaki dress as the ones that Velvet knows to belong to the 598th regiment, some in the same colour armour but drab green clothing. A lot of them are handing out food or drink to the people, while Velvet can see women, dressed in plain white and red tabards and habits, over white and blue armour almost like that worn by the commissar-captain's guards. These women move from group to group, family to family, administering medical care to those that need it, which thankfully isn't many.

As the group passes them, many of the townspeople turn and cheer at the sight of the two student-huntresses and the Kasrkin, clapping loudly at them. To them, it must look like an honour guard or something of the like. The Kasrkin are stony faced as they march forward, eyes front, but Velvet is certain that, on the ones without rebreathers, she can see lips tilt up in small smiles. At her side, she sees Coco try and preen under the attention, but Velvet's team leader is still on edge around the others.

"Are they really taking us to Fox and Yatsu?" Velvet asks, pitching her voice as low as she can.

At her side, Coco shrugs. "I don't know… but she better."

Carefully, Coco moves her hand to rest it against the top of Gianduja, its compact form resting comfortably on Coco's waist, and Velvet gets the message loud and clear.

Leaving the cheering crowd behind, the pair of Huntsmen-cadets are led to one of the numerous hangars dotted around the airstrip. Tall enough to accommodate the large lander outside, the building is simply and solidly built, but foreboding in its own way. Made from dark steel, large skulls leer out from the corners, while at the angles, large gargoyles formed from sharp-beaked eagles stick out. At the centre of the central arch above the entryway, Velvet looks up and sees the symbols in the centre, one hung blow the other; a ship's wheel and a pair of wings superimposed over a capital-I, while a metal disk had a winged capital-A superimposed over a capital-I.

The door to the building yawns open, and Velvet can't fight the trepidation she feels at seeing it. As they approach, Velvet can see people dressed in gun-metal armour and emerald green uniforms standing at attention, lasguns held in their hands across their chests. Interspersed between them, more Kasrkin stood ready, though these ones had a different colour scheme to the one around her and Coco. More greens on the armour and cloth than khaki. As the approaching group walks past them, Velvet sees that none of the guards turn to look at them.

The world around the group darkens as they pass into the shade of the hangar. Unthinkingly, Velvet moves closer to Coco, even as she feels her body ready itself for a fight. Part of her expects to hear the snap-crack of the Cadian's lasguns firing at the pair.

"Coco! Velvet!"

So it shocks Velvet when she hears Yatsuhashi calling out to the pair ahead of them. It's not a cry of fear, nor one from pain. But one of joy at seeing the pair again.

And Velvet can't help but return the feeling. Like her and Coco, the two boys are surrounded by Imperials, although for them, their escort is much friendlier looking, by comparison. The Faunus recognizes the officers from Carterstown; Thade, de Pikalov, Schreiber and various junior officers, along with the imposing bulk of the three Steel Drakes, the two in full armour still with their helmets in place. And yet, through it all, Yatsuhashi and Fox still look like they're being friendly. The other Imperials seem more relaxed around the pair.

Although that instantly melts away when they all turn to look at the new arrivals.

"Commissar-captain!" Commissar Schreiber calls out, a shocked look on his face even as he salutes his obvious superior. "Ma'am, I meant to send you my report on-"

"What is the meaning of this, commissar-captain!?" The glaive and shield wielding giant roars out, stepping forward menacingly, even as his advance is checked by the other giant. "You bring our allies to us under arms like criminals?"

Turning slightly, Velvet's eyes widen in surprise as she sees the woman recoil from the anger, a small sheen of sweat appearing on her head, before she rallies.

"My lord Astartes, I am merely following commissariat directive Alpha-Two-Six. The four… children, will be arrested and placed in the stockade until such a time as their fate will be decided."

"What?!" Coco yells out, turning quickly to face the woman enough to make the soldiers around her take a step back in surprise, even as they raise their lasguns at her. "You want to arrest us again? That one over there tried to arrest us over being… 'psykers', whatever the hell that is, and you want to arrest us for… for what?"

This time, the woman doesn't flinch. She only stares down Coco.

"For being a possible enemy."

Coco steps forward, her teeth set in a snarl, even as a pair of lasgun barrels are pointed at her head. "Enemies don't risk their lives to help your guys."

"Back down, girl." One of the black-armour troopers growls out, his voice a metallic rasp.

"Back down yourself, glory boy." One of the Kasrkin retorts, stepping forward himself, his own weapon held low in his hands.

This soldier is pushed back, hard, by the butt of a rifle against his chest. "Stand down, grenadier!"

"Kasrkin!" Another Cadian yells out. "Kasr-kin. Maybe you Tempestus should remember that next you spit-shine someone's boots."

Velvet backs up slightly. The tension is skyrocketing, the anger is swelling. Behind her, she hears the voices of de Pikalov and Fidor calling at Schreiber to try and talk some reason to his commander, Schreiber is simultaneously telling them not to interfere and also try and talk down the woman, Fox and Yatsuhashi are calling at Coco to back down, while her team leader is kicking up a storm of words that Velvet never thought the girl would use at someone else, while around them, the soldiers are hurling insults at each other for reasons unknown to anyone else but themselves.

It's suffocating. The enmity, the willingness to turn on each other. The victory they fought to earn, all the blood spilt in the night… all the death. Velvet feels herself sink to the floor as small tears begin to trickle from her eyes.

Is this all humanity is capable of? Every victory against the Grimm to be thrown aside and wasted on petty squabbles?

The ground beneath her reverberates to heavy footfalls, approaching steadily from behind her. Velvet only turns, not when she hears the sounds of arguing begin to quiet down, but when she hears the relatively softer sounding footsteps of the Kasrkin behind her step backward a distance. Turning her head, Velvet is met with a leg thicker than her whole body and made from a metal at a sheen almost enough for her to see her own reflection in it. Her gaze travels up, following the line of the cream white tabard, up a body taller than anyone she knows, until she's staring in the emerald green lenses of the red helmet she first saw not just over an hour ago.

Velvet swallows the lump in her throat as she meets the Steel Drake's gaze. Her teeth are on edge now, the sound of whatever powers that giant suit of armour grating at both sets of ears, the servos for movement making an incredible whine as the warrior moves to kneel down in front of her. His voice is like an avalanche of boulders filtered through a low-cost speaker.

"You are distressed. And in tears."

It is stupidly blunt, but at this moment, Velvet could do with simple. So she nods, reaching a hand up wipe at the tears on her cheek.

"It's… it's been a rough day." She replies, realising how fruitless it is as more tears fall. "We… so many lives lost and yet… we're arguing over how me and my friends are being treated."

The eye lenses stare at her for several seconds, the sound around them fading away as everyone watches the pair to see what will happen. The giant warrior reaches his hands up to his helmet, placing them on the sides of the helm before a low hiss-click sound reaches Velvet's ears, and the helmet is lifted off. The face that's revealed is square shaped, broader and taller than a normal man's should be, but still something that Velvet would call handsome; square jaw with a thin black beard, Aquilian nose and a short head of black hair top a face with skin the colour of copper. A single grey eye looks at Velvet, unnerving her with its steady stare as much as the bright red robotic eye on the right side of his face.

Velvet's tears and woes are forgotten as the giant man speaks to her, his voice deep and sonorous.

"For every martyr remembered, a thousand more are unmourned and forgotten." The giant nods his head once, before he rises back to his full height, his armour whining as he moves. A hand is brought down, a giant gauntlet that, from the size, could easily crush Velvet's skull if he had the mind to it.

With reluctance, Velvet places her hand in the warrior's palm before she pulls herself up to her feet, the offered limb unyielding as she moves to her feet. Once again, Velvet is awed by the size and bulk of the Steel Drakes in their armour, but to know that it really is a human inside it all…

The Steel Drake turns to the commissar-captain, his face stern as he speaks. "Commissar-captain, you do our newfound allies a disgrace by treating them in such a manner. These four showed true courage and resolve in their efforts to aid the guardsmen of the 598th in their defence of the settlement." His head turns to look down at Velvet, a look of quiet remorse on his face. "… but the actions are justified."

Velvet feels her stomach drop at the words, her ears falling flat against her head again.

"Huntress," Sergeant Thaddeus speaks up, making her look at him. "We are as much strangers in your land as you would be in ours. I am sure you can agree that, if the numbers were reversed, the situation would see us questioned to decide if we would be potential enemies. Or allies."

Velvet wants to argue, to say that at least in Vale, they wouldn't be treated like criminals for helping people. But… she knows not every kingdom, or even every person would trust them right away. If what her dad told her about Atlas was anything to go by, at least.

"Trust but verify." Velvet says, earning a nod from the giant.

"Trust but verify." He repeats in his deep baritone.

Reaching behind her, the Faunus Huntress cadet unclips Anesidora's box from behind her before, taking it in both hands, she turns and approaches the Kasrkin who escorted her and Coco. As she holds out the box, the soldier slings his lasgun and holds out his own hands.

"You're doing the right thing, miss." The soldier says quietly as he takes the box, his arms dropping a bit under the weight before he compensates for it.

Behind her, Velvet hears her team leader crumbling something even she can't really hear before Velvet hears the tell-tale sound of Gianduja being taken off and handed to someone. She doesn't need to fully hear it, but she knows that Fox and Yatsu are doing the same thing.

"On our honour," The second red-helmed Steel Drake warrior says, his glaive resting against his shoulder while he places a fist against his heart. "As sons of Dorn and warriors of the Steel Drakes chapter, these weapons will not be permitted to be mistreated or their Machine Spirits disgraced."

Velvet doesn't really understand what the warrior is saying but she gets the gist, enough to make her smile ruefully. "I just don't want a fight again."

---

The heavy metal door slams shut, the sound echoing through the room, half the size of their shared dorm in Beacon. Although here, it seems the Cadians really just followed the single colour scheme idea. Drab metal walls, drab metal floors with a single grate in the middle, drab metal ceiling, drab metal wire-frame cots, topped with a thin, ugly-looking brown mattress. Even the icons of a hooded figure, each about two feet in height, head looking down at the floor, are made from the same metal.

It's a prison. Coco Adel is in a prison.

She hears her friends and team-mates sitting down on the cots, or in Yatsuhashi's case, sitting down on one then quickly deciding to sit on the floor.

As for Coco… she's just staring at the door that was just closed like she had heat vision and could melt it. If she had Gianduja, she would definitely blast it off its hinges.

She raises her right leg behind her, gearing up to give as big a kick as she's ever done. She seethes at the idea of her team-mates being put in jail, after all they've done for those stupid, idiotic, mother-

"COCO!"

Her name being called out, from three mouths simultaneously, stops her mid kick before she turns to see all of her team-mates looking at her in annoyance.

"Really?" Yatsuhashi asks. "You want to get us in more trouble?"

Looking at the weary faces of her team-mates, Coco feels her own fatigue enter her body. Sighing, she puts down her leg and turns to sit next to her friends. Although, Coco can't resist the vindictive move, so she quickly and sharply kicks the door with her heel, pushing a portion of her Aura into her foot to protect the limb from damage. Her shoes are strong enough as it is.

The sound of her foot colliding with the metal sounds like a gunshot, and she can't resist the small smile that comes to her face at the knowledge of how large the fist-sized dent in the door will be. In front of her, her friends just groan or sigh in exasperation, too tired to do anything and knowing her enough that telling her off will be pointless.

"What?" Coco says with a shrug before she moves to join her team. Honestly, she's too worn out to care, but she still knows it's best not to get her friends into more shit.

As she sits down on the cot next to Fox, feeling the thinness of the mattress for herself, the sound of the locks to the door opening fills the room, and Coco tenses. Even without her weapon and her Dust, Coco knows she can still put up one hell of a fight. And she knows that her team can too. Even if they don't want to at the moment.

The door opens, and a Kasrkin steps in. His weapon is slung across his chest, and in his hands he carries a metal tray; four mugs of what smells like the Cadian's version of coffee, smaller cups filled with possibly cream and sugar, and a fair sized plate stacked with rectangular biscuit-looking food.

Despite herself, Coco can't help but swallow as she sees the soldier turn his head and look at the dent on the door. Although all he does is shrug before he steps forward with the tray, handing it to Yatsuhashi.

"You Cadians are being very inconsistent in how you're treating us, you know that right?" Fox says, leaning forward and taking a mug of the steaming drink from the tray and in his team-mate's hands, Yatsuhashi handing a biscuit to Velvet, who beings munching on it appreciatively.

The soldier just shrugs. "You helped us when you had every reason not to. You could have legged it and left us to fight it out ourselves. But you didn't."

Velvet stops her chewing as she looks up at the Cadian. "Will you get in trouble for this? From the… Commissars?"

Again, the soldier just shrugs. "Commissars are… they're outside of the chain of command. They don't really give orders, but it pays to listen to them. Besides, this is all from Captain Fidor." He motions at the food and drink.

With that as his final word, the soldier turns and exits the stockade, closing the door again.

"Did anyone think this was how our second year would go?" Yatsuhashi asks, putting the tray down carefully. Even if he is capable of sitting cross-legged for hours, Coco can tell how uncomfortable the flooring is. And it's not even that, either. She feels naked without Gianduja, as all her team are without their weapons. "Being imprisoned by a group of… space-men?"

Fox sups appreciatively at his drink for a second. "Minus the space-men bit."

Coco turns her head to look at her friend with a mixture of annoyance and surprise on her face. "Fox?"

"They don't know about Semblances." Fox replies, using his team-speak to talk, sipping at his drink again. "We don't know how they'd react to my telepathy. Yatsu's memory wipe. I think they liked your Hype though."

Taking one of the mugs and a biscuit, Coco tried to get as comfortable on the bed as she could, even as she put on a slight pout of indignation. It was going to be one of those conversations again: one where they had to speak with their mouths and with their minds too.

"No worry about Velvet's Semblance causing trouble?" Yatsuhashi chimed in, stirring some ingredients together into his own mug, before he spoke with his lips. "Still, I think it's amazing: being some of the first people on Remnant to meet other beings from another world and find out their humans? That's massive."

"The sergeant… Sergeant Thaddeus," Velvet said through team-speak, chewing on her biscuit again. "He didn't really react negatively when he saw me pull out Ollarus' heavy bolter. He was shocked, sure, but he quickly got over it. He did sniff the air, which was strange."

Swallowing the last of the biscuit, Velvet speaks up. "Should we see if we can contact Beacon when they let us out… If they let us out."

The biscuit Coco was raising to her mouth stops as she looks forlornly at her team-mate. Out of all of them in the last 24 hours, Velvet has suffered the most, and it's telling. Her ears are down flat against her head, she tries to make herself look small on the bed even as she tries to get behind Yatsuhashi, her go-to shield. Her eyes are dull when they should shine, and she appears to become more like a robot in her movements than before as she lifts her legs up to press against her body, wrapping her arms around them as she buries her head into her knees.

"Bun, you okay?" Coco asks, taking her shades off to see her team-mate more clearly.

Velvet shakes her head, her ears whipping side to side slightly. "No, I'm not…. I'm scared."

"I get that." Fox responds, looking at the Faunus student with his unseeing eyes. "These guys are packing so much firepower, they're bound to give Atlas a run for their money. Especially if they have their spaceships nearby-"

"It's not them I'm scared of!" Velvet cuts in, her head raised and looking at Fox in frustration. Coco recoils slightly as she sees her friend's face. Her eyes are turning red as tears begin to form and the girl is trembling slightly as she keeps her emotions in control before her head drops again "… I'm scared of myself."

Coco almost drops her glasses at the comment from her friend. Velvet is… Velvet. The Fashionista Huntress knows how her team-mate is seen by others: shy, weak, always following behind the other members of Team CFVY. But Coco knows that she's tougher than all of that, strong enough to always hold her own.

But Velvet is struggling. And it hurts Coco to see that.

Bringing up a hand to wipe at her face, Velvet continues to speak. "I-I'm scared, because… I've never felt myself get so angry as I did." The hand against her face scrunches into a fist, her limb shaking even more. "My blood was boiling, my brain… I couldn't think of anything except fighting and killing the Grimm. I've never felt like that… and it's terrifying!"

She knew she couldn't say it out-loud, but Coco had to admit that seeing Velvet like she did when she went to help the Steel Drakes, using her copied weapons with a skill and force that she's hardly ever seen Velvet use in her time on the team. And yet… seeing her fight, hearing her repeat that mantra throughout the whole situation, and seeing her body as she moved from target to target… Velvet looked less like the fluffy bunny she had as a team-mate… and more of a berserker.

Velvet is sobbing heavily now, using her hands to wipe at both her eyes, while Yatsuhashi has turned around to try and console her. Coco knows that she can't say anything to help her friend, because she has nothing to say. What can she say? A woman of action in all things, Coco steps up to the plate, stepping up from her bed. In quick strides, she is seated next to Velvet and has her arms around her friend.

"C-Coco?" Velvet sniffles out.

"It'll be okay, Velvet." Her team-leader says softly. "We're here."

---

"They're certainly… eclectic." Lieutenant Felicia Deckard points out, watching the three teens in the stockade move to hug the abhuman with the large leporid ears as she cries in distress. "If you didn't see them in action, you wouldn't think they're warriors as tough as they actually are."

Veteran Brother-Sergeant Gaiun, sergeant of Sternguard Squad Gaiun, of the Steel Drakes' First Company, only lets out a low rumble from his throat as he watches the group on the slightly grainy vid-caster in the stockade's commissariat office. Although to call it an office is being generous. It barely has half of the same space as a Razorback's hold, with himself, Brother Thaddeus, Lieutenant Deckard, First Lieutenant De Pikalov and Commissar-Captain Mycella Trakis inside it. Brother Dassian has to make do with overseeing the refit and refuelling of the Thunderhawks and the rearming of the bolters of their fellow veterans and their neophyte brethren.

"They are still children, after all." De Pikalov points out. "And from their lack of uniformity, I can only assume that they come from a militia style structure, meaning they aren't as often faced with combat as say… the children of Cadia."

"Or our own neophytes." Sergeant Thaddeus interjects, watching the screen closely. "They did fight against the beasts without fear or hesitation. What did you say the abhuman called herself, Brother Gaiun?"

"A Huntress." Gaiun rumbles out, folding his arms across his chest, the faint scrape of armour on armour as the steel coloured plates grind against the other. "It is not often that I've encountered many hunters who are resolute in combat. Most would run when faced with such odds."

"… Quaint." Commissar-Captain Trakis says flatly. "Although, respectfully, my lords, we're not here to discern whether these children are effective allies or not. We are here to discern whether or not they are psykers, and if they are dangerous."

Thaddeus rounds on the woman, who only comes up to the base of the winged skull on his chest plate. "As I told your man Schreiber, I swore by the name of our Primarch that they are not pyskers."

"How can you tell?" Trakis asks, looking up at the veteran Astartes sternly. "By my recollection of Astartes ranks, you are no psyker yourself, or you would be a Librarian."

Even with his eyes fixed on the screen, Gaiun feels the corner of his mouth move upwards slightly in a smile. The woman is certainly familiar with the organizational structure of the Codex, and he can respect that. Although he does wish to know how Thaddeus knows that this… Team CFVY aren't psykers.

Turning slightly, Thaddeus raises a hand and points at the abhuman, who has now partially calmed down from her tears. "This girl produced a hard-light hologram of my own bolter, followed by Neophyte Ollarus' heavy bolter. I could smell no hint of the Warp on her during the creation of our weapons. In fact, the scent that I could smell was… different."

The smile drops from Gaiun's face as he turns to look at his battle-brother in confusion. A gesture copied by everyone in the small room. "It is not like you to use such abstract terms, Brother Thaddeus."

The master of neophytes just shrugs his shoulders in response. "It is the only way to describe it. In all my time on the battlefields of the Imperium, I have not encountered such a smell before. It is… unique."

"How so?" de Pikalov asks, curiosity showing on his face.

Thaddeus stops and thinks for a few seconds, trying to find the correct words. All Steel Drakes, as per the traditions of their recruiting worlds of Sigilis IV and V, are versed in poetic speech and verse, being able to create stanzas and prose for honoured comrades and battles, and at six-centuries of age, Thaddeus has created more than his share of verse. But it is clear that he is stymied in searching for the correct words to use.

At last, he speaks. "It was… earthy. Sweet, but earthy. And with an undertone of steel."

The room falls silent, the only sound being the tinny conversation from the stockade being played through small speakers in the vid-caster, as they look at the Astartes in surprise and confusion. Even Gaiun is surprised by the words his battle-brother has used. Although that surprise fades away quickly as another scent hits his nose. The completely opposite smell to what Thaddeus described.

The smell of the Warp, and of heavy opiates.

"A very elegant and poetic phrase, Brother Sergeant." A woman's voice, raspy from a lifetime of inhalation of narcotic smoke and strained with a lifetime of power, flows into the room like the slightly violet smoke preceding her. "And one that is truly at odds with the power of the Warp. As you so well know."

Reflex actions make Gaiun's hands drop to the weapons at his waist. Armoured fists close around his sword hilt, Xenosbane, and his plasma pistol as he turns and looks at the psyker entering the room. Compared to the mountain of ceramite and adamantium that the sergeant is, the primaris psyker is frailer than a twig. Dressed in a combination of the sanctioned garb of the Adeptus Astra Telepathica; a large extended collar reaching up above her bald head, attached to a cuirass of carapace armour marked with her order, deep purple robes over the utilitarian drab khaki kit of the Cadian regiments. Her face is noble, but sunken and sallow skin surrounds her bright violet eyes. In one hand, she carries the staff of her office, topped with the golden capital I surmounted by an eye made from gold and amethyst. In the other, an elegant and lengthy smoking pipe filled with the smouldering embers of opiates gives off a waft of purple smoke.

"Primaris Pysker Madeline Clarris, reporting for duty." She says, revealing stained and crooked teeth, even as she bows her head in respect. "How can the services of the Telepathica be of use to you, my lord?"

Gaiun removes his hands, slowly, from his weapons, as he closely scrutinizes the woman's features. She has to be in her mid-fifties, most likely from an upper-class family from Cadia if her features are any good basis to go on. Although any attractiveness is gone from her now: whatever hair she possessed is gone, either removed through surgery to allow the augmetic implants in her skull to be more easily inserted or through the continued use of her psychic powers. Her cheeks are sunken, revealing more of the bone structure beneath, and around her lips, he can see the tell-tale discolouration of a heavy opiate used by some mortal psykers to combat the side-effects of their Warp-borne powers.

On reflection, he notes, Chief Librarian Nemon has it easy.

"Madam Clarris." Gaiun says, falling back on his memories of introduction to women of nobility. "We have need of your psychic skills. Information must be gleaned."

Madam Clarris arcs an eyebrow at the command. "Mental scrying requires physical contact. You know this as well as I, my lord Astartes."

"Consider it to be more of mental probing." Sergeant Thaddeus interjects, putting distance between himself and the primaris psyker, allowing his bolt pistol to do the most damage. "We know these children have some form of power. But we are unsure if it is related to the Warp or is… something else."

Both the pyskers eyebrows rise in surprise, a pleased look on her face. "You wish to give me a challenge." Lifting the pipe to her mouth, Clarris takes a long draw from the pipe before she blows a long draft of purple-tinted smoke, the particles dancing through the air almost excitedly as Clarris steps forward, the pipe sitting between her lips and teeth. "This will not interesting. I wish for silence, if you please."

The request is followed, not a person making a noise as the primaris pyskers raises a hand, looking directly at the screen of the vid-caster, focusing her eyes on the figures shown on the screen. Quickly, her violet coloured eyes become unfocused, rolling upwards slightly, and the temperature drops.

Reflexes hone on countless battlefields take over, and Gaiun makes a grab for his plasma pistol. Wych magicks, psychic powers, whatever term is used for them, they are not to be taken lightly, even from his own ally. But Gaiun suppresses the instinct, keeping his hand solely on the grip of his pistol, not drawing it. Out of the corner of his eye, he sees everyone else in the room bar Madam Clarris have done the same.

Hoarfrost spiders its way across the vid-caster screen, spreading along the bank of cogitator engines and control boards in the room. Breaths mist in the room, even if Gaiun sees that the witch-frost disappears as quickly as it forms. Through the screen, he sees the effects of the of the psykers power affecting Team Coffee. Whatever conversation they are having is interrupted as, in quick sequence, each person shudders before they look around in confusion.

"Did you all feel that?" The abhuman asks, her ears flicking side to side with her head.

"Yeah, and I didn't like it." The blind male replies. "Felt like someone was walking over my grave."

As the teen finishes his sentences, Madam Clarris drops her hand, her eyes rolling back to normal as she steadies herself on her staff as the hoarfrost fully dissipates. Her pipe is still clutched between her teeth, which she takes with hands that just barely tremble. Quickly though, she recovers, standing upright and taking the pipe from between her teeth.

"What can you tell us, Madam Clarris?" Thaddeus asks. "Are they psykers?"

Madam Clarris doesn't say anything. She taps the lip of her pipe against her own lips, her eyes looking at the vid-screen in thought.

"Madam Clarris." Gaiun says, getting the woman to focus her attention again.

She doesn't turn as she speaks. "Are you familiar with soul sight, my lord Astartes?"

The veteran Astartes' brow furrows at the question. "I am. Our Chief Librarian, Lord Nemon, has often talked about it when questioned on his… lack of physical sight… You used that on them?"

Madam Clarris nods. "It is simple, but also the most effective way to tell whether or not a person is a psyker without physical contact. I'm sure you're aware that, in the eyes of the Warp, the souls of psykers burn brighter than the souls of… pardon the term, 'blunts' such as yourself."

"Hence why they are more susceptible to corruption and possession by the powers that shall not be named." Commissar-Captain Trakis states, almost spitefully, even as she makes the sign of the Aquila across her chest.

"Indeed." The psyker notes. "The souls of these children burn brightly as any psyker of my own grade… and yet.. they appear almost… shielded."

"Shielded in what way?" Lieutenant Deckard asks.

"First Lieutenant de Pikalov, you have smoking lamps on your ship, do you not?" Madam Clarris asks, turning to face the officer of the fleet, who nods at her question. "And such lamps are surrounded by a sheet of metal to avoid the flame becoming a hazard, correct?"

"Correct." De Pikalov responds, confusion giving way to slight understanding. "Is that how you saw these souls?"

The pysker nods. "Precisely as I saw them. Where the light from the soul of a human, psyker or otherwise, bleeds out into the void past the physical world, the souls of these children remains, centred and focused on their own beings… though why, I cannot even begin to hazard a guess."

"So they are psykers?" Commissar-Captain Trakis asks, pressing the issue, sensing vindication in her decision.

"Of a type unknown to humanity." Gaiun states, mulling over the statement as he watches the group of teens settle down again. "They clearly have high control over their abilities if they can shield their souls against the Warp."

"What shall we do, my lord?" Deckard asks, turning to look at the power armoured Astartes. She was the highest ranking Militarum officer, though Trakis was the highest member of the commissariat and de Pikalov held nominal rank over her due to his position in the Imperial Navy. But, they all looked to him for instruction.

"Keep them contained for another hour." He says after quiet mental deliberation. "Then have them sent to Brother-Sergeants Dassian and Thaddeus, and me. We will debrief and question them ourselves, finding out what they can inform us of our world. First Lieutenant de Pikalov, I wish for you and Lieutenant Deckard to be present, as outside observers and also as a show of support for them. You spent more time alongside them, so they should feel more relaxed with you both present."

"Very good, my lord." de Pikalov responds, bowing his head as his heels click together.

"Commissar-Captain Trakis, I would ask that the commissariat maintain a distance during this debriefing." Thaddeus says, looking at the woman in the black uniform. "I feel that your presence would antagonize the members of Team CFVY unduly."

The woman looks like she is about to respond negatively, but instead she simply bows her head. "As you wish, my lord. Though I would like to post guards around the chosen area as a precaution."

"Agreed." Gaiun says amicably, seeing the rationale behind the decision. "I would also like to know where Captain Fidor Thade is. He should have been present at this meeting."

"Disciplinary action, my lord." Deckard says quickly. "Of the internal sort. One of the soldiers in my platoon is being charged with… well, it's slightly complicated."

"More complicated than this?" de Pikalov asks with a chuckle as he gestures at the vid-caster.

"Well, no, but still." Deckard responds. "One of our soldiers is being charged with dereliction of duty in the face of the enemy… but, there were… extenuating circumstances."

"How so?" Trakis asks, the leader of the commissariat on the planet taking clear interest in what was going on. "Dereliction of duty is dereliction of duty. The soldier should be summarily executed, end of."

"True, ma'am, true." Deckard notes, unease on her face as she speaks. "But it gets complicated because he left the line of combat… to go and fight another threat behind our lines during the siege of Carterstown."

"So what is his punishment?" Gaiun asks, not really sure of the need for such an act. The soldier obviously did something worthy of praise if he went to go fight a greater threat that appeared behind enemy lines. But then again, the Militarum has always been hide-bound by punishment, and discipline had to be maintained.

"Seventy-five lashes." Deckard says simply, looking up at the Astartes.

The veteran nods his head in understanding. "Fair punishment."

---

The crack of the whip echoes through the closed off hangar, the sound washing over the assembled soldiers of First Platoon, Bravo Company, followed by the muffled sound of an agonized groan of pain and a dispassionate female voice counting.

"Seventy."

All soldiers present watch as, standing arms outstretched in a cruciform stance under a metal frame, Trooper Tychos Litten is subjected to seventy-lashes. His bare back is bloody, with rents and welts in the skin standing stark even against his dusky skin, while blood runs down his spine, the marks and blood obscuring the large tattoo on his back. His mouth is gagged by biting into a leather belt, even as he closes his eyes to the pain that the next lash will bring.

The whip snaps again, drawing another groan.

"Seventy-one." The Sister Hospitaller, seconded from the Order of the Azure Blade, counts as she stands to the side, her blue and white clothing a stark contrast to the uniform of the junior commissar meting out the flogging, and the drab uniforms of the assembled guardsmen and their officers, watching the punishment stoically, silently.

Commissar Anton Schreiber's mouth moves in time with the flogging, keeping count along with Sister Madina, though his reasons are different. He keeps an eye on the junior commissar's count, making sure it is exactly seventy-five lashes to the back, no more, no less. Any more, and the trooper would be out of commission, any less and it wouldn't be the punishment.

"Seventy-three."

The hangar is silent to the flogging, no one in the building making a noise at the punishment, as it should be. This is the Cadian way. It is a Cadian being punished, so only his fellows should be the ones to see it.

Throne knows how the people from this world would react. He'd seen other commissars flog their soldiers in the middle of town squares in certain worlds, had seen the looks of disgust, confusion or revulsion on their faces at seeing commissars whip the soldiers under their eye. And when they'd try to whip the soldiers of a local PDF force…

That commissar attached to the Roskan's had been asking for that rock to the head. Still… there were stranger ways to find out about a heretical cult.

"Seventy-four." The call comes after the penultimate snap of the lash, prompting Anton to ready himself. He surreptitiously sorts out the small creases in his uniform.

The final whip-snap, and the final groan of pain from Tychos before he lets his body hang just a bit more limp in the frame. Limp, but still standing on his feet. Cadian to the core.

"Seventy-five." The Sister Hospitaller calls out clear, turning to look at Anton. Behind the frame, the junior commissar lets out a harsh breath of exertion before he begins to curl up the lash in his black-gloved hands.

"Seventy-five lashes, and all done, sir." A young lad with a common enough face, but important enough back in whatever kasr he came from to warrant being sent to the Schola Progenium. Only seventeen, and flogging soldiers over twice his age.

Here on Remnant, they had children the same age fighting the beasts of Grimm…

Commonality there.

"Thank you, Junior Commissar Jode." Anton says, stepping forward to the boy as he was presented with the curled up lash. Putting out a hand, the commissar takes the whip before he turns to face the assembled soldiers. "The lash! A tool of pain, a tool of correction! But compared to the bite of a pistol? A feather's touch.

"Trooper Tychos was charged with dereliction of duty! In the middle of a fight, he ran!" Anton stops to let the words hang heavy in the air, casting his eyes over the troopers in First Platoon, letting his eyes hover over Tychos' squadmates; Reinhardt, Sophia, Kian. Everyone is looking at the group in front of them flatly. "But… he did not run to escape a fight! He ran to join another! Risking his own life to aid our newfound allies in the defence of the people of Carterstown. That is why he has earned his reprieve."

Moving the curled up lash from one hand to another, Anton raises it in his right hand to point at Tychos' bloodied back.

"But never forget: to disobey an order is to invite punishment. Whether it be the lash, or the firing line, discipline will. Be. Maintained!"

The shout rolls through the hangar, echoing off the walls. Not a single trooper flinches at the commissar's words. Taking that as his cue, Captain Thade steps forward.

"Platoon!" The soldiers stand straighter than they were. "Dismissed!"

With a massed shuffle of feet, the guardsmen turn away from the display before them, watched over by their sergeants as they leave the building in calm order. Watching them leave, Anton keeps an eye on Sophia to see her reaction, seeing her glance at her squadmate, before she turns away and exits with the rest of the platoon.

"Junior Commissar, you are dismissed." The taller man says, not bothering to look back as he hears the younger officer walk away.

His work done, Anton turns around to see Tychos back obscured by the form of Sister Madina, her white and blue clothing demure but practical against her sister's power armour. Pained hisses come from Tychos' mouth, his teeth still around the gag and Madina applies an antiseptic wash to the back.

"Your junior could have kept his strokes more consistent." The Sister Hospitaller preaches, her hands moving deftly as she applies the antiseptic while gently checking the worst areas, white vinyl gloves covering her ebony skinned hands. Her round face scrunches up slightly. "Hmm… no need for stitches. But it'll be light duty for a week or so. Thank the Emperor you Cadians are tough."

"Good." Anton says, nodding his head as a small smile came to his face. "Hear that, Tychos?"

The clatter of leather and metal hitting the floor precedes a tired groan from the flogged trooper. "Great…"

"Hold still." Sister Madina says before she produces thin pads from a pouch at her waist and begins to apply them to the troopers back, covering the worst of the lash marks. His back sufficiently covered, she then wraps the troopers body with gauze, entirely from armpits to waist. "Light duties for a week. And make sure you sleep on your sides."

"U-understood, sister…" Tychos breathes out, his breath coming out in ragged breathes as sweat drips from his face. He makes no attempt to hide the pain. "… m-morphine?"

"I can do one better." Captain Thade says, undoing one of Tychos' bound wrists, letting him press a small canteen into the trooper's hand. The smell of alcohol was strong, and Anton couldn't fault the logic in the move as Tychos took a deep swig from the canteen.

"Captain, I'll leave Tychos with you. Sister Madina, a word, if you please."

At the words from the commissar, both people nodded. Captain Thade took the canteen from Tychos as he went to undo his other bound wrist, while Sister Madina moved to walk alongside Anton.

"Taking me away from my duties as a member of the Order Hospitaller giving care to your new charges, and having me give aid to a soldier being flogged." Madina notes simply as she removes the bloodied and dirtied gloves from her hands. "Do you trust your own medic so little?"

The comment would have raised Anton's hackles if it came from anyone else, but as Anton looked to his side, he small a small, thin sardonic smile on Madina's lips. Earning a smile from the commissar in the process.

"Valim has his priority filled with tending to the wounded from the siege." Anton says, before he lets out a breath. "Throne, fighting those beasts is bloody work. I couldn't afford to have Valim distracted from something like that."

Madina nods her head. "A fair point. I've seen some of the records of the injuries from the wounded when the base was being set up. … I don't look forward to that sort of work again. Give me a straight up shooting match any time. Beasts like them…"

"The dead are better off than the wounded." Anton says quietly. "Digging shell fragments from a trooper, who can then be patched up and sent back to the front is one thing. But having to deal with men with limbs wholly torn off or nearly ripped in half…"

Madina makes the Aquila across her chest. "May the God-Emperor's fury wipe such filth away from the universe."

"Ave Imperator." Anton intones as the pair come to a halt at a smaller door beside the hangars closed main door. The view allows the pair to see out across the hangar, with the Tetrarch lander still sitting brooding on the tarmac, while underneath, members of the commissariat and Order Hospitaller move around with data pads and stylus', conversing with the rescued townspeople. Something must have come down from the commissar-captain, Anton notes, as he sees that his fellow commissars aren't accompanied by Tempestus storm troopers, only Sister Hospitallers. Though at least they are looking decidedly less confused by the situation than the commissars were.

Which prompted the question from Anton to Madina. "What's your take on all this?"

The Sister turns to look at the commissar, her pale-blue eyes looking at the pale-faced Cadian, who is looking directly at the refugees.

"Father Constantine said that this planet was a… a reward for us Cadians." Anton says. "That He would not allow us, the men and women who guarded the Cadian Gate, to just… waste away. We were brought here, by the Emperor, to help defend humanity against these… Grimm beasts."

As soon as he says the words, Anton's eyes open wide as the implication sets in. While they are not truly heretical, using his own judgement of doctrine and knowledge, he looks at Sister Madina at his side. She just looks flatly at the refugees being tended to by her compatriots, not saying a word as her lips purse slightly.

Finally, she speaks after several long seconds of silence.

"Well… all we can do is let the God-Emperor reveal to us our path." The Hospitaller says simply. "Though learning more about this world certainly would help."

"Agreed." Anton replied, nodding his head.

For a few seconds, the pair stand in comfortable silence next to the other. It is an amicable silence, brought on by years of horror and combat faced in service of the God-Emperor of Man and the defence of his realms. Two branches from the same tree, taken root on Holy Terra. An odd friendship that can only be explained by the people in it.

Madina's microbead sounds in her ear, drawing her attention for a few seconds before she nods and responds. "Understood, I'm on my way." She turns to look at Anton. "I'll talk to you again some time, Anton. Save me a recaff."

And with that, she is away, blue and white habit and veil swishing gently in the mid-morning air.

Watching her leave, Anton lifts his face to the sky, raising a hand to shield it from the sun's glare. Blue sky, unspoiled by the baleful colours of The Eye, broken by pure white clouds, untouched by pollution or war. But underneath that untouched sky, underneath the verdant green that grew from the sun, a darkness lurked; as brutal and uncompromising in its fury, equal to any that mankind has ever faced.

Above all of that, fury waited to be unleashed upon it in turn; humanity's wrath and vengeance against those who would dare deny it it's place in the universe, waited to be let loose.

As below, so above.

Although, Anton ruminated on as he brought his head down to look at the refugees, he did have to wonder… what more would this world show? And what would the price be?

A few refugees looked at him and, mistaking the position of his hand, they waved at him. Anton just stood there, silently and still, even as the morning sun began to stretch across the sky.

Madina would be right in the end, Anton knew. It would be up to the God-Emperor to let the path be revealed.

---

It has been an hour since their incarceration, and still Yatsuhashi has not been able to find any true comfort in the prison cell CFVY is found in. The beds are out of the question, especially for someone of his height and bulk, and sitting cross-legged on the floor has somehow been more unbearable than the floor of his family's dojo back in Mistral, the metal sheeting on the floor being done with some sort of rivets that make it very uncomfortable for his legs to rest on.

So, while Coco and Velvet sit together on one bed, Fox on the other, Yatsuhashi lays on the floor between the two beds. Silence has fallen in the room, no-one having anything else to say on their situation, so Yatsuhashi uses the time to meditate. He's never had to do it while lying down before, but somehow, to his own surprise, he manages it. Even with all the turmoil that the last day has brought, he can still fall back on the mental exercises his grandfather taught him.

Yatsuhashi lets his mind drift, flowing over his own mental landscape as he brings his mind to a place of quiet contemplation. A place of serenity and calm, stillness and placidity. He dwells not on the events of the past or the future, immediate or far-flung, only the present. He is lying on his back, and no-one can harm him or disturb him.

He knows peace…

The locks to the door open up again, bringing Yatsuhashi out of his meditation. He rises to his feet, the customary pins and needles that accompany meditation not present through lying down (he might have to try doing that sort of meditation back at Beacon, he thinks to himself), as the door swings inwards. Through the portal, Yatsuhashi sees one of the Kasrkin standing in the doorway, two more flanking either side. The helmet is still on, along with the respirator, but their eyes, those bright violet eyes that all these Cadians have, look at the team stonily.

"All right, you four." The man says simply. "On your feet, then follow us."

"Where are we going?" Yatsuhashi asks, watching his team-mates get up off their chosen beds.

"Time for your debrief. Come on. Don't want to keep the lord Astartes waiting."

The wording is… slightly ominous, Yatsuhashi has to admit. But looking between his friends…

"What else is there for us to do?" Fox sends to all of them, shrugging his shoulders as he sightlessly looks at his friends.

Following the Kasrkin's arm directing to the passage out of the door, Coco and Velvet lead the group into the corridor outside, Yatsuhashi bringing up the rear behind Fox, letting the three turn the corner before he joins them.

The loud "Eeep!" coming from Velvet has the giant teen rush forward to help his teen mate. Even without Fulcrum, Yatsuhashi knows that he can swing a punch harder than any of these people can.

Yatsuhashi stops at what he sees. A Steel Drake, one of the… Astartes is standing in the hallway. And Yatsuhashi thought he took up space. The giant warrior positively fills the hallway with his form, enough that his helmet, an almost pure white great-helm-esque design, is tilted forward slightly to avoid scraping against the ceiling. His steel armour reflects the blue light from the weapon he carries, the ribbed structure on the back emitting a low blue glow, which bounces off the marble-white, gold and silver adornments of his armour, and especially the large near fully silver pauldron on his left side.

"… How the hell did he get here so quietly?" Coco asks in shock. "We were in there for ages, we didn't hear him. Bun?"

"I didn't hear him." Velvet says in reply, shaking her head as she looks in shock at the giant.

"We couldn't really hear anything in that room" is what Yatsuhashi wants to say, but he can't bring himself to say. There is no way for a being as large as this, a being as heavily armoured as the Steel Drake should be able to move as quietly as he could.

Although… he was meditating quite soundly.

A low mechanical noise, irregular in pitch filled the air. It sounds so much like a speaker malfunctioning.

"I shall take that as a compliment, young Huntress." The voice that issues from the helmet is a static covered growl, like two boulders mashing together. But the words are sincere, Yatsuhashi can tell that. "My brothers often tell me that mortals find the sound of our armour's servos disconcerting, so I deactivated them to try and put you more at ease."

Although one person doesn't find them sincere.

"How is that better?!" Velvet calls out, her ears standing up straight as they do when she is stressed. Her face is reddened, and her eyes are wide. Along with the eyes of the Kasrkin. One of whom is stepping forward, a hand outstretched to take a hold of Velvet. Though he stops short from the motion of the giant in front of them.

"… the… lack of noise… offends you?" The Astartes rumbles out, his voice showing his confusion along with the tilt of his giant head. Yatsuhashi does not like the mental image he gets in his head of a monitor lizard staring down a rabbit that's about to be eaten.

Velvet's ears droop slightly, the implication of her position sinking in finally. "Y-yes. It's… you're scary, and big. And the idea of you walking around, making no noise… that's terrifying."

A sharp intake of breath comes from one of the Kasrkin at the back, telling Yatsuhashi all he needs to hear. That Velvet has just said something she shouldn't have to a giant warrior who they saw kill Alpha Grimm almost effortlessly, and is capable of killing other beasts easily if the patch of reddish-brown, scaly leather hanging from his back is anything to go by. Though that sound is eclipsed quickly by the irregular, mechanical noise again, and then a hum that sets Yatsu's teeth on edge, and the hair on Velvet's head too.

"If it sets you more at ease for you to hear my armour, then you shall hear it, young huntress." The giant's head dips forward in a bow. "Though I only do this as repayment for you aiding me during your retreat."

"What-?" Is the word Velvet begins to say before the giant motions forward.

"My brother-sergeants await you all. Let us not tarry. Forward, all of you."

Looking at his team-leader, who quickly nods her head, Yatsuhashi moves forward, making sure that his own body is between the Steel Drake and his friends. The tramp of their feet, the different patterns of footwear and different weights fill the space in the corridor. For a few seconds. Footfalls like industrial hammers striking steel, combined with the whine and whirr of the mechanisms powering the armour into motion, fills the space, eclipsing Team CFVY's and the Kasrkin's footfalls. Each footfall sends a tremor through Yatsu's body enough for him to feel it in his teeth, and he sees Velvet and Fox physically wince with each hammer-strike. Coco, leading from the front, seems unperturbed by it, but the giant teen knows she's putting on a front for her team.

Seeing an open door ahead, the light of the mid-morning sun streaming in, Yatsu is grateful to be out. He doesn't get them often, but he can feel a headache coming.

---

Adeptus Astartes do not get headaches. Brother Moein, veteran battle-brother of the Steel Drakes' First Company, member of Squad Gaiun, and late of the Deathwatch, knows this for a fact. Their genetic augmentation and physical conditioning makes such ailments impossible for the super-human warriors.

Although, as he hears the chuckles of his brothers circulate around his helmet's vox systems, Moein thinks that he feels a headache coming on.

Ducking his head underneath the mantle of the doorframe, his Mark III helmet's photolenses dimming to filter out the strong sunlight for a period, Moein deactivates his external vox as he growls out to his squadmates.

"Are you all done chattering like whipper-bills?"

Brother Goran lets out a single guffaw before he retorts. "Hardly! You bowed down to a girl, an abhuman girl, who is less than half your size! You! The famed xenos killer of Cardex!"

Moein rolls his eyes, easily picturing the look of joy and humour on Goran's large, pale face. An easily humoured soul, for an Astartes, Goran was quick with a quip and a joke.

"There is humour in it, brother." The cool voice of Brother Markos, as sure and steady, and as bass, as the heavy bolter he carries into battle, intones.

Before Goran can reply, a gruff snort of derision interrupts him, an equally gruff voice speaking up.

"It was an insult, to have such a… being, speak to you in such a manner." The voice of Brother Vorn, Squad Gaiun's heavy flamer operator, his voice as bellicose as the weapon he uses in combat, cuts through the humour quickly. "You should have slain her for the mutant she is."

Silence falls on the vox, the only sound reaching Moein's ears the sound of his footfalls reverberating through his armour and the accompanying sounds of his armour allowing such movement.

Goran speaks up again, his voice filled with subdued humour. "Ever the diplomat, Brother Vorn. Should we be expecting your secondment to the diplomats anytime soon?"

This brings a bout of chuckles from the squad, Moein not resisting the urge to join in. The image alone of the flamer-wielding, ex-hive brat trying to be diplomatic…

"It is enthroned in our being!" Vorn protests loudly. "Suffer not the mutant to live! She is not human, therefore, she is a mutant."

Goran speaks again. "Brother Vorn, you and I have fought in many campaigns and have seen many foes, including mutants. Does she look like any mutant you have seen?"

"... No, but she is definitely not human. Two pairs of ears mark her abnormality. Mutation."

"Theoretical:" Moein interjects. "Have you ever come across mutants with such mutations based on animal biology in such a precise and clear manner as the young huntress has?"

Silence fills the vox.

"No, Brother Moein." Vorn admits flatly and earnestly. Moein breathes a sigh of relief. Vorn carries the gene-seed harvested from the Black Templar lineage of the chapter, one of the original fifty warriors to accompany Sebastan Drago to Sigilis. Even with the training, hypno-indoctrination and sermons from the chaplains, he still almost falls to the bellicose nature of that chapter.

Almost.

"Theoretical." A new voice chimes in. Brother Kolm, the squad's marksman. Quiet and taciturn, his voice is soft for an Astartes, but he speaks clearly. "Such attributes, from what I can tell, are clearly ones that the… child must be born with. If Brother-Sergeant Thaddeus' words on her, and the younger child rescued by the Cadians, is true, then we have to assume that these beings are a new strain of abhuman. Practical."

Low-level muttering, only just audible to Moein's ears (though he makes no attempt to use his Lyman's Ear to hear more clearly), fills the vox, the other members of the squad listening in and giving their own opinion on the conversation.

Such a discussion was bound to happen, Moein knew. And his place as Brother-Sergeant Gaiun's second-in-command means that he must make a statement. So, like so many times, he speaks the truth.

"Whether the huntress, the child, or others like them on this planet are abhumans or not, is not our concern." Moein speaks flatly and precisely, choosing his words succinctly, as he watches the backs of the young warriors before him. "They could be abhumans, mutants… or, if the fates have it, a lost strain of humanity. That is for the magi of the Ordo Biologis to explore.

"But I have one fact for you, my brothers; humanity exists on this world. And it is like the rest. Besieged from without by monsters, terrible in form and terrible in act. So do as we have always done. We fight. We stand."

"The Last Wall stands." Markos and Vorn intone together.

"Now and forever." Moein finishes the motto of his chapter, their chapter.

The voice of Veteran-Sergeant Gaiun cuts in unexpectedly. "To do so otherwise, would bring dishonour to ourselves, to the chapter, and to our Primarch. That should be reason enough for Brother Moein not raising his hand against the warrior who aided him in battle, Brother Vorn."

Inside his helmet, Moein nods his head slightly.

"… I stand chastised, brother-sergeant." Vorn's voice is full of genuine regret and shame. "And I apologise to Brother Moein. I spoke out of turn. My choler got the better of me."

"Apology accepted, brother." Moein responds, turning his head as he sees several Cadians, their uniforms of reddish brown armour over dark green fatigues. The glare from his helmet stops their progress. The group has entered one of the main sections of the fort, meaning that they run into more and more Cadians. Though the guard of two Kasrkin, fully armed and armoured, and the Sternguard veteran bringing up the rear, stops any from approaching. Though Moein is able to tell that the presence of so many Cadians, armed and armoured, is upsetting the teenage warriors to some degree. Especially the abhuman who saved him.

Even the transhuman does not fail to see the irony in her actions.

Brother Gaiun speaks again. "When we return to the Dracon's Fang, Brother Vorn, you shall perform three days of fasting, and contemplation over Indisalah's Meditations on Humility and Honour. This is a fragile situation we are in, brother. Control your choler."

"Understood, brother-sergeant." Vorn replies, mollified and placid now.

"This extends to all of you," Gaiun continues, using the tactical vox between all Astartes in the fort. "This is not a situation where our bolters and armour, our strength and our skill, can see us to victory. We must allow the Cadians to see the day through, with diplomacy and talk. We must allow whatever civilization exists on this planet to trust us, to accept us. To see us as the long-lost kin we are, not the would-be invaders we appear to be." Gaiun pauses to let the solemnity of his words sink in with the members of his squad before he speaks directly with his second-in-command. "Brother Moein, estimated time of arrival? Dassian, Thaddeus and myself have prepared the area for us and our… guests."

Looking up from his view of Team CFVY, Moein looks at their destination. One of the few buildings in Fort Tempest that rises over three storeys in height, apart from the control towers and landing platforms for the Imperial Navy, the Adeptus Ministorum church loomed large and broad. An edifice to the belief of the humans of the Imperium in the God-Emperor, Him on Earth, and the Master of Mankind.

Very grandiose and, Moein had to admit to himself, very gaudy for his tastes. But the Sternguard saw the value in it as the meeting place.

"Five minutes, brother-sergeant. The paths are being kept clear, so we shall be there swiftly."

A small confirmation pip flashed across Moein's helmet's heads-up-display, signalling Gaiun's acceptance of his battle-brother's words. The walk continues in relative silence, Moein's helmet turning with sympathetic movement as he scans the area the groups is walking through. Surrounded by Cadian Shock Troops, this area of the planet is easily one of the safest places to be right now. He still keeps his plasma gun ready, his finger only centimetres away from activating it's coils to full.

The twin reports of heavy bolters high on a wall makes Moein stop, turning his body as he raises his plasma gun in the direction of the shooting, somewhere on his right. The coils of his gun light up, hot blue. In the front of the group, the Kasrkin respond in kind, only seconds behind the Astartes, their own hellguns up and ready, one of them moving to stand in front of the group. Even without weapons, the members of Team CFVY respond, Moein easily seeing them tense up ready for a fight, even if the abhuman falls in behind the tallest. Around them, Cadians with weapons ready themselves for a fight, falling into textbook defensive positions.

Seconds tick by, but no more shots come from the wall.

"Situation, trooper?" Moein says out loud, his vox grille amplifying his words to the Kasrkin with the hand against his helmet, obviously listening in to his microbead.

"Tarantula turret sparked up, my lord." The man replies, standing up straighter, his gun arm relaxing just slightly. "Local wildlife. But it was driven away."

Moein's gun still points towards the direction of the sound, expecting the dark shape of an enemy beast to come hurtling into view. But none do, so he lets his arms drop, the coils of his plasma gun dimming slightly.

"Very well. Press on."

The group continues walking. Every so often, one of the group will look at the wall or the sky above, looking for any tell-tale of an enemy contact, but none comes. The situation allows the female abhuman, her large animal ears swivelling around every so often to hunt sounds it seems, to turn her head and sneak looks at the Astartes veteran behind her. Wide eyes, a vivid brown, look at Moein with a mixture of fear and suspicion and something akin to… Moein can't place the emotion, but it's one he's only seen on the faces of the youngest mortals he and his brothers have rescued from certain death.

As she turns her head in his direction for possibly the fourth time, Moein makes a point of looking directly at her and nodding his head. Her reaction is for her face to redden before whipping her head back to face the front. She doesn't turn to look back at him after that.

The march of the group is continued in relative silence. One of the Tarantula turrets, or the same one, roars into life again, though the group ignores it as their goal is insight.

Flanking a large door, tall enough to accept a Contemptor-pattern dreadnought and embossed with an aquila ascending towards the heavens, Moein sees Brother Kolm to the right of the portal, and Brother Ghazan of Squad Dassian to the left. Kolm's Mark VII pattern helmet locks onto Moein, the Sternguard marksman nodding a greeting, while Ghazan's Mark V pattern helmet sweeps around for any threats. An unnecessary precaution, but a precaution, nonetheless.

When Kolm speaks, he does so with his external vox, addressing Moein fully. "Well met, Brother Moein. You are early."

Moein nods a greeting as the group stops, the Kasrkin at the front moving their hellguns to the port arms position before they bow to the two Astartes. Moving his head, Ghazan looks at Moein nodding his head as well.

"Well met, Brother Moein." The angular helmet tilts down slightly as the other Astartes looks at the small group before him. "Hail, and well met to you as well, warriors of this world. Our brother-sergeants wait inside for your debriefing."

"Please enter." Kolm says, turning and pressing a hand against the door. The door, solid metal which has to weigh upwards of several hundred pounds, was pushed inwards easily by the Sternguard brother, the Kasrkin parting to the side at the same time, allowing the strange group entry.

The group wavers, not moving.

"What's inside?" The leader, her shade covered eyes looking between the two Sternguard in front.

"Our brother-sergeants wait inside for your debriefing." Ghazan repeats his statement, head tilting quizzically. Kolm makes no sound at all, his hand still resting on the opened door.

The group still does not move, though Moein can tell they teeter on the edge of entering. Or fleeing. So again, Moein speaks the truth.

"We scare you. This we know all too well." His voice makes the group turn, the two other Sternguard looking at him along with the Cadians. "We have come to your world with fire and fury. But be assured, we do not come as enemies. Our enemies are, as they have always been, those who stand against humanity, those who threaten the lives of the innocent. Our enemies are the beasts that you fight, the beasts that roam this world. You have fought these beasts for uncounted years alone."

Moein raises a ceramite clad hand and points at the door.

"Enter that door, and let your enemies become our enemies. Let our fire and fury, our strength and wrath, our guns and blades, be at your side. Let us become your allies."

That has the groups attention, the four teenagers looking between each other. Moein lets his arms drop to his side. Seconds pass by in near silence, the hum of the power plants of three Astartes filling the air, while a soft wind whispers around the feet, disturbing purity seals and tabards.

The groups leader looks at the door, taking in a deep breath. "One small step for a woman… one big bloody step for Remnant." She whispers to herself before she strides forward, not looking at her fellows. The two males in her group quickly follow her, moving behind her, leaving the abhuman to catch up.

She tops and turns once more to look at Moein. Her eyes are still filled with the mixture of emotion he saw the last time. She says nothing, only offering a small but heartfelt smile to the giant. In return, Moein nods his head again.

Again, the girl says nothing, but still she smiles before she turns and follows her fellows. Once past the threshold of the door, Kolm releases it, letting the large door swing back closed. Ghazan looks at Moein, his helmet still tilted quizzically, before he speaks over the internal vox.

"A strange group of warriors, wouldn't you agree, brother?"

Moein shrugs his large pauldrons, the one marked with the emblems of the Deathwatch catching the sunlight. "Indeed." Moein looks at the door as it finally slams shut.

---

The door slams closed behind her, and she doesn't even notice it. Nor does she notice her team-mates all around her. Coco Adel has to admit that she is not really a religious person. She doesn't pray, never has, and she's never really been to church, except to the marriage of one of her dad's friends.

This church was definitely not like the one she had been in. That church had been light-grey stone, all well-lit by sconces with actual lights and stained glass windows showing the nature and vistas of Remnant. Peaceful and happy organ music had filled the arches underneath carved stone birds in flight. It had been a cheerful place of worship.

There was no cheer here. None could exist in its metal and stone forms, if Coco can make any guess at the material.

The roof is high above them, large enough for it to be bathed in shadow, though the student-huntress can see the thick and strong arches that keep the roof up. Sconces holding up flaming torches and braziers line the main avenue, filling the air with the same cloying, petrochemical stink that Coco has been smelling all over the base, though the light they cast is feeble and low. Almost as low as the music she hears.

Though to call it music is not the right word for Coco to use, she muses as she begins to walk forward slightly. It's a voice, multiple voices, singing together. It surrounds team CFVY as they walk through the place of worship, threading the notes and lyrics of the song into every piece of stone, metal and fabric in the place. She can't understand the words, but the voices are sombre… almost mystical in their sound. They sound like words of praise as much as sorrow. Even the small crackle from the speakers they echo from, no sign of a choir or band of singers coming to Coco's eyes, does nothing to detract from the songs sound.

Through them, walking through the music softly like through a mist, Coco casts her eyes, taking her sunglasses off for the darkness, around the building. Ribbed pillars rise to the arches above, their tops crowned with stone idols; leering two-headed eagles, snarling dragons and lions, or simple hooded skulls. Between the arches, banners hang from iron chains, flowing softly in the small breeze in the building. Again, the same motifs are repeated in some form: twin-headed eagles soar high, wings outspread as they rise above mighty castles and walls. Hooded skeletons, armed with scythes or swords, stalk across blasted battlefields. Warriors in ornate and powerful looking armour, with large eagle-like wings and halos, stab down twisting and coiling serpents or horned creatures. And a man. A man with a stern, pale face, long black hair, wearing golden armour and crowned with golden laurels, floating in the air above massed ranks of soldiers in the same style of armour as the Cadians.

Coco doesn't need anyone to tell her who this person could be. Because as she turns to look at the end of the chapel, she sees the same being brought almost to live. Towering over her and her team, the statue is easily fifteen feet tall, whatever stone it's made out of gilded with gold. Or perhaps even actual gold. It stands tall and proud, the man's body standing straight in ludicrously ornate but proud armour, even as he uses one armoured foot to pin down a coiling serpent made of iron and dark stone, his left hand throttling the beasts neck viciously. In his right hand, the man, the warrior, the leader, raises a sword high and towards the heavens. Coco isn't sure if her eyes are playing tricks with her, or if it's a trick of the light or a trick of the builder, but in the same instant, the sword, the double-headed motif on the cross-hilt and an eagle's head for the pommel, appears to both aflame or made out of glass and metal. The artwork of a blade twists and coils in the low light, casting expert illumination on the face.

And the face. Pale stone was chosen by the sculptor to make the face, and to the student-huntress, she sees it is well chosen. The stone has been worked expertly, showing both the contempt in the man's face and his deathly pale, ivory features, his regal face looking down at the chapel and the people within. The visage of a god looking down at the beings below him. And yet... underneath that form, behind that brow of flowing, onyx hair and golden laurels, Coco sees figures. Made from simple grey stone, Coco sees the simple forms of people, wearing simple rags and clothing, cowering in fear behind the figure.

It's breath-taking in a way Coco never envisioned seeing.

"Fox…" Coco breathes out softly, a sadness she never imagined hearing her own voice. "I wish you could see this, man."

Fox's voice comes in low and gentle, the blind teen sounding awed as well. "I can't see it, Coco… But I can definitely feel it."

There is something in the air, something that even Coco can feel. Something powerful. Something awe inspiring. Something… filling her with a warmth she never imagined feeling from a building like this. The sort of feeling she only got from her team-mates, her friends. A sense of belonging to something… greater than herself.

A tap at her arm draws Coco's attention from the metaphysical to the physical, as, at her side, Velvet taps at her team leader's arm and points forward. Following Velvet's fingers, Coco looks in the direction she is pointing, and jumps slightly.

They're kneeling at prayer, one of the Cadian officers, a woman, and the Imperial Navy lieutenant, de Pikalov, heads bowed and hands in front of their chests, in front of an altar. Behind the altar, the Steel Drake from the town, Sergeant Thaddeus, his camouflage cloak wrapped up against his shoulders, kneels before the statue of what Coco guesses has to be the God-Emperor, his own head bowed and a fist against the floor, while at his sides, the two Sternguard in armour copy the gesture, their heads bowed and bared. Not a person makes a move, nor a sound as they pray, and Coco hesitates to make a sound to disturb them.

Rising to his feet, Sergeant Thaddeus turns and faces Team CFVY. His face has been cleaned of the grime and paint used, revealing pale, almost leathery skin showing his age and scars showing his skill, while his hair, beard and moustache still look wild and untamed, while his grey eyes study the group.

"Greetings, Team CFVY." His baritone voice fills the space, cutting over the song easily and bringing the other four from their prayers. "I trust you are faring well."

'Besides being thrown into a cell on ludicrous and insane charges? Just peachy.' Fox sends to Coco, and it takes all her willpower to resist the urge to snark herself. Now is not the time.

"We're well, thank you." The fashionista looks to her side as she sees the two Sternguard rise to their feet. She's seen the one called Gaiun, but the other one is new. Black hair cut into a low mohawk, his Aquilian-like face is dark and swarthy, very similar to Fox. Three, thick parallel scars run down the right side of his head, ending at his chin and cutting through his short cut beard. Again, he has the same grey eyes as Gaiun and Thaddeus.

"Brother Sergeant Gaiun, you know." Thaddeus continues, the aforementioned sergeant nodding his head as a greeting. "This, to my left, is Brother Sergeant Dassian, commander of Sternguard Squad Dassian."

An armoured fist slams into an armoured chest-plate, the sound ringing heavily in the chapel. "Well met, and honour to you, Team CFVY."

The smile on the sergeant's face is genuine, but Coco still can't help but shudder at it.

"Lieutenant de Pikalov." Coco says with a nod, addressing the naval officer in emerald and white, who responds with a dignified nod of his own, before she turns and faces… the handsome woman in a Cadian officer's uniform. "And… sorry, I don't know you."

"First Lieutenant Angeline Deckard." The woman says, snapping off a sharp salute. She smiled but it was a cold smile. A smile laden with professionalism and poise. Reminds Coco a lot of some of the women her dad had to work with in Atlas…

Mentally, Coco shakes herself. Now is not the time for that sort of thing. So she turns her attention to the altar. A large rectangle of stone and metal, it's covered by a red cloth, once again embroidered with the two-headed eagle device along with the symbol of a skull inside of a simple but stylized gate. On top of the cloth, sits a large metal pitcher, along with nine fairly large goblets. Above the smell of burning fuel and metal, Coco detects the heady smell of… alcohol?

"Are we… interrupting something?"

"Not at all, young Huntress." Dassian says in reply. "We merely waited for your arrival, in our case at least, through meditation and contemplation, or through prayer."

Coco thinks that she detects a hint of derision at the last word, though whether at the other people actually praying or the act itself, she can't tell. And it's not really her place to say either way. So instead she turns her attention to the altar again.

The pitcher is… huge. That's really the only way to describe it. Simply made from steel with rings of copper, with a large, rounded bottom and a long neck. The mouth was shaped like a roaring dragon's head, with a pair of wings as the handle. Motifs of double-headed eagles, skulls and dragons of various shapes and forms. Shapes and patterns that are repeated heavily on the large goblets made of wood and copper.

'Maybe these guys would be open to a trip to Hot Topic?' Coco thinks to herself as Sergeant Thaddeus lifts up the pitcher, his large hands easily gripping the handles and lifting it to his head.

"Victory." The sergeant intones, holding the pitcher in front of himself for all to see. "Through mettle, is victory achieved. Through sacrifice, is mettle shown. Through blood, is sacrifice given."

Coco narrows her eyes in intrigue. She feels like she's being given a performance, like something she'd see in Vale's medieval fare by guys dressed in very unflattering and very strange armour. But… it's real. The words, the theatrics. It's all real. These guys, two of whom are dressed in actual suits of armour, are performing a ritual.

She doesn't know what expression is on her face, or the face of her team-mates, but she sees Sergeant Thaddeus crack a small smile before he speaks again. "Although in Brother Gaiun's place, 'sacrifice' doesn't really count if you misplace your eye."

The afore mocked sergeant doesn't say a word in return, but from the set of his jawline, Coco can tell that it's a jab that he's heard plenty of times, and it sets the group, Remnant and Imperial alike, tittering. The sound is swallowed by the architecture.

"Silence." The simple baritone command, not even a bark of an order, cuts through the joy like a hammer through stone as Sergeant Dassian looks scornfully at the group. "This is not a comedy performance for your entertainment. Be respectful."

Coco feels her face burn with embarrassment, especially since it was one of his own who made the joke to begin with. And from the look on Thaddeus' face, he's just as annoyed, but he doesn't say anything as he continues the ritual.

"Through victory, we honour our immortal Emperor; Our Lord on Terra, and Master of Mankind. Through victory, we honour our Primarch, and gene-sire, Rogal Dorn. Through victory, we honour the dead, who now lie in glory."

Moving a hand to the mouth of the pitcher, Thaddeus uncorks the vessel. Instantly, mixing with the petrochemical stink from the flames, Coco can smell the heady toast of alcohol, strong and earthy. Very strong, it turns out, as Thaddeus begins to pour a measure of the liquid into each of the nine goblets around them. He moves fast, economically, which means that each cup that looks like it could easily hold a pint of the stuff is filled with only a shot glass' worth of the stuff.

Stoppering the vessel again, Thaddeus places it back on the altar before he lifts up his own goblet, his hand easily fitting around the bowl of the cup.

"And it is to victory, we drink." The others take their goblets, with everyone barring the other two Steel Drakes and Yatsuhashi having to use both hands to lift up the metal goblets. Coco's Aura makes the job easier, but still, they are cumbersome to lift for so small an amount, as she lifts it to her mouth.

"But," Thaddeus cuts in, stopping Coco short. "As we drink, brave fellows. Be mindful, to not drink too deeply of victory. To drink deep of victory, lies pride. And in pride, lies arrogance. And arrogance goes before a deep fall."

"Never again." Intone Gaiun and Dassian solemnly, before they down their drinks and place the goblets on the altar. Seeing that as their cue, the others drink.

Never again. Never again is Coco going to drink that stuff again. It is strong, stronger than anything her dad let her drink, though she can still taste the earthiness of it. Now she's glad that it was the shot's worth because drinking a whole pint of it? She swallows it down, grimacing at the taste. Looking around slightly, she sees the other having the same reaction.

A loud THUMP, like the sound of a sack of flour being dropped makes her look to the side to see Fox flat out on his back, the goblet still held to his mouth.

"Sigilian ale isn't for everyone." Sergeant Gaiun says, resting a hand on his goblet as he watches Fox slowly pick himself back up. "Though that is the first time I've seen someone do that."

Fox lets out a raspy breath as he stands back up, putting his goblet on the altar. "That drink… is evil."

Another round of chuckling follows that declaration, Coco patting her team-mate on the back as he leans against the altar to steady himself. As she does, she turns and looks at Thaddeus directly. "So… are we doing this debrief, or is there another ritual you want us to do?"

An amused smile splits Thaddeus' face. "No, just the one. And it is less of a ritual, more of a toast… But I can see how it is a ritual, to non-Astartes."

Dassian speaks again, lifting his goblet to peer at the motifs on the surface. "To drink of victory, but to not be blinded by pride. To remember the sacrifice of those fallen, and to keep their memories close. Not to let our minds be clouded by thoughts of pride, and arrogance at our victories. That is the purpose of the toast. Since the days of our founding, to the last days of our lives, and to the end of time; to never forget. To never again, forget the cost."

Coco lets her eyes roam over all three giants in front of her, taking in every detail she can of their armour, their faces.

"Who are you?"

The question earns a confused look from the three Steel Drakes, with Gaiun answering. "We did introduce ourselves to you earlier."

"No, I know that." Coco says, putting up her hands in front of her. "I mean… you. Who… what are you? I hear the word… 'Astartes' thrown around to refer to you, but we don't know what that is. Who and what are you?"

Sergeant Gaiun lets out a low, sonorous chuckle as he brings up an armoured finger to scratch at the cheek underneath his augmetic eye. "Well… that almost sounds like a philosophical question."

"Don't be absurd, brother." Dassian says, looking sharply at Gaiun. "It's nothing of the sort… though it is not a short and easy answer."

Dassian turns, and Coco is not surprised to see him looking up at the statue of their God-Emperor. Again, she sees the stern, contemptuous and powerful gaze staring down, seemingly directly at her, making her feel so, so small.

Dassian speaks again.

"It was out of the terror and the darkness of Old Night, after humanity had been plunged into the Age of Strife, that he strode forth. After defeating and unifying the barbarian nations of Old Earth, and unifying Terra with Mars, the Emperor sought to unite all the human worlds that had been lost into one single entity; the Imperium of Man.

"He knew that, alone and adrift in the void, humanity would fall to prey to all sorts of abominable alien species and empires, even with all the weapons and craft at his disposal from the union with the Mechanicum of Mars, and he would be hard-pressed to fight his Great Crusade with just common soldiery alone. So to end, he created us."

Dassian turns, a hand placed against his tabard covered chest.

"What was once a normal human, was taken, reforged, reshaped. Enhanced with gene-knowledge known only to the Emperor and the most high Adepts and Magi, humanity was given its greatest weapon to wield; the Adeptus Astartes, the Space Marines."

Dreamily, almost wistfully, de Pikalov speaks up. "Oh, to have been a man in such a time. To have seen the God-Emperor and his sons, the Primarchs, leading humanity to such a righteous dream."

"And then that whoreson traitor Horus killed that dream." The amount of rage in Lieutenant Deckard's sombre voice surprised every member of Team CFVY. Coco never imagined hearing such spite directed at one single person.

"Hang on, hang on." Fox says, putting his hands up as if to physically slow the conversation down. "You're throwing a lot of information at us very quickly."

"What exactly is a 'Primarch'"? Velvet asks first. "You said.. R-Rogal Dorn, is one? Was one?"

"And what was it that this 'Horus' character did that was so terrible?" Yatsuhashi adds in his own question.

Thaddeus lets out a small huff in amusement. "Like neophytes, fresh off the Fields of Trials. Too many questions, and they think they can have them all answered at once."

Gaiun chuckles as he nods his head, before turning to look at Team CFVY. "Yes, Huntress Velvet, Rogal Dorn is our Primarch or, rather, the Primarch of our Founding Legion, the Imperial Fists. He was one of… many. And each one, though different in temperament and form, each one shared one commonality; the blood of the Emperor ran through their veins, for they were his sons, each and every one of them."

"Are his sons." Thaddeus points out quickly. "Do not be so quick to discount our Lord Commander, the Primarch of the Ultramarines, Roboute Gulliman."

Coco looks at the sergeant in confusion, not sure if the last two words he's said is a name or not. "Gesundheit."

The look of confusion that crosses Thaddeus' face tells Coco that was the wrong thing to say, but Gaiun ignores it as he continues speaking.

"As for Horus…" A sombre look passes across the Sternguard sergeant's face. "Horus was the Emperor's most trusted lieutenant, his Warmaster. At the hour when the Great Crusade reached its peak, he betrayed the Emperor, and cast the Imperium into a civil war it barely recovered from. Many of the Primarchs lost their lives, and the Emperor was enthroned on his Golden Throne after besting Horus, but… nearly at the cost of his own life. That was ten millennia ago, and we have now only attained a fraction of the Imperium's former glory."

"Ten… ten thousand years?" Yatsuhashi breathes out. "I can't even begin to imagine that…"

Thaddeus nods his head. "Only the Emperor, powerful as he is, can handle such a charge."

Coco's mind swims. So much information at once. An intergalactic empire, super-soldiers, beings above the super-soldiers, a person ABOVE the beings above the super-soldiers, that person being betrayed by someone powerful to cause a civil war in an intergalactic empire. And the super-being who was the emperor of an intergalactic empire was powerful enough to nearly die, and yet had been sat on a throne for ten thousand years.

Suddenly she wants another drink.

"And… and you?" Velvet asks, looking as worried as Coco feels. "W-why are you here then? On Remnant, I mean."

Armour grinds on armour slightly as Gaiun crosses his large arms. "If only we knew. Our chapter is attached to a fleet, made up of myriad vessels of various parts of the Imperial war machine, and was ordered by the Lord Commander Gulliman to link up with his own greater fleet of the Indomitus Crusade to cross into the Imperium Nihilus after the formation of the Great Rift."

The giant lets out a sigh as he sees the looks of confusion that are on the faces of the teen huntsmen again.

"That one is truly a long story that is not needed to be told right now. Suffice it to say, our fleet was travelling to join with the main body when we were… cast adrift, is really the only phrase to use. And, as fortune would have it, we found ourselves here."

"'As fortune would have it'." Coco repeats sceptically, a perfectly cared for eyebrow arching slightly.

"Indeed." Gaiun says plainly and simply. "Your planet is not on any known Imperial star chart and, if you had, do you think that we would be having this sort of discussion if we weren't the first Imperials to stumble across your planet?"

Coco opens her mouth to respond, but closes it again. That did make sense.

"Question." Fox says suddenly, putting a hand up for extra measure. "Why do some of you call him the God-Emperor, but you just call him the Emperor?"

"How is He not a god?" Lieutenant Deckard said, and Coco was certain that she heard her being able to capitalize the word 'he'. "His vision managed to unite humanity across the void, and in His deathless state on the Golden Throne, He has kept humanity united through the light of Astronomican and His Angels of Death."

The fervency with how the woman spoke spooked Coco slightly.

"That is the… mortal view." Dassian says. "To us Astartes, the Emperor was a man. An incredibly powerful and insightful man, but a man, nonetheless. Well… the majority of us hold that view."

Coco knows there is an answer to that, but her head is hurting too much from all the information given to them. So instead she reaches a hand up and rubs at her face.

"Okay. I'll say that about answers our questions." Taking her hand away, she looks at each of the Imperials in turn. "So… got any questions for us?"

Thaddeus is the first. "I'll repeat a question you asked us: who, and what, are you? You call yourself Huntsmen, but that term doesn't mean much to us."

"It does sound like a fancier way of saying 'hunter'." de Pikalov adds in.

"It originally did," Yatsuhashi said, holding himself high. Out of all of Team CFVY, Yatsu was the closest to being something of a historian, so Coco gave him the floor. "Though they weren't always called 'Huntsmen'. In Vale, you had the Knightly Orders of the Wolf, the Eagle and the Dragon. In Mistral, you had the Guardians of the Cliffs. Mantle had the Snowborne, and Vacuo…"

"Vacuo didn't have any 'orders' like in the other kingdoms." Fox says, almost testily. "Too centralized for our liking."

Yatsuhashi continued. "These groups, or individuals, were warriors who were capable of using Dust, along with their Semblances and Aura, offensively to combat the creatures of Grimm, alongside a kingdom's regular soldiers and hunters. Thought it wasn't until after the Great War, and the creation of the Huntsmen Academies, that Huntsman became an actual term."

Thaddeus crosses his arms across his chest. "Not too dissimilar from our own history."

"What is this 'Dust'? And 'Aura', and 'Semblances', you speak of?" Dassian asks, turning fully to face Team CFVY.

"Bun, you're up." Coco whispers to Velvet, giving her team-mate a nudge. Prompted, the Faunus student swallows the lump in her throat at being made to speak before these giants.

"Dust… is an energy source… in the form of either crystals… or dust. They have… various properties dependent on… well, we're not sure. You can have fire, ice, lightning, gravity, earth, wind. You can also have ones like 'plant', which makes flora and stuff grow quicker. And there's hard-light dust, which I use in my weapon, Anesidora, though that one is very rare since it's actually semi-man-made."

Slowly, Velvet begins to warm to her speech, especially when Dassian asks how Aura plays into the equation.

"Oh, Aura. That's our soul."

Silence meets the declaration, the only sound is the low singing in the background, the crackle of flames, and the mechanical sound of the Space Marine's armour.

"That…" Lieutenant Deckard says in confusion. "That doesn't really make sense?"

"We need a bit more information than that, Miss Adel." Lieutenant de Pikalov adds, not sure on the direction the conversation is going.

"Makes sense." Coco admits, nodding her head. "Sergeant Gaiun? Give Yatsuhashi here a punch."

"Pardon?" Gaiun responds flatly.

"Oh, I hate you so much, Coco Adel." Yatsuhashi shakes his head, knowing what his team-leader has planned for him, even as he moves away from the altar a good distance.

"Come on, Gaiun. Yatsu's a tough guy. He can take it." Coco cocks her head as she grins broadly, her best sales-person impression directed at the giant warrior.

The Astartes is still and silent for a few seconds, clearly weighing the situation in his mind before he strides forward. Each footfall is heavy, forceful enough to send a tremor through Coco's body and make her teeth rattle slightly. She keeps herself collected though as she watches the warrior come to stop an arms-length away from Yatsuhashi. Only then does it really sink in.

Even though Yatsuhashi reaches Gaiun's chest and is as thick as a tree-trunk, Gaiun is a skyscraper to a tree. A full head and shoulders above her friend, and twice his bulk in his armour. She can only imagine what sort of body exists under all that metal, and Coco is of no doubt that it would be something that would be intimidating.

"I wish you to know in advance, Huntsman Yatsuhashi," Gaiun says stoically and solemnly. "That I truly apologise if I take your life."

Yatsu breathes in deeply, closing his eyes, before letting out a slow breath. Opening his eyes, he looks at Gaiun. He nods.

The Sternguard sergeant's arm is a blur. Whips move slower than his arm does.

There's a brief flash of silvery-green light.

Yatsuhashi wobbles but is still standing.

From her position, Coco can't see Gaiun's reaction, but she reckons it's something similar to looks of absolute shock on the face of the others. To be honest, even she had her doubts. But Yatsuhashi is strong. Although she didn't really think Gaiun would land a blow that quickly…

Fox groans out loud. "Oof. I felt that."

Gaiun says nothing, pulling his arm back to his side as he stands straight again. Coco watches his hand tense again before, like a snake, his hand whips forward. Another flash of Aura, an audible WHACK of impact, followed by two groans of pain and the sound of Yatsu's rear-end hitting the stone floor.

"Yatsu!" Velvet calls out, rushing to her friend.

"I… underestimated you." Gaiun says, somehow sounding pleased with the outcome. "But I think I see now what this Aura is, in part."

Across his body, a glittering, rolling sheet of silvery-green light rolls across Yatsuhashi's form as he slowly picks himself off the floor, before it fades. Slowly, Yatsuhashi takes in deep breaths and releases them as Velvet moves to his side before he stands perfectly upright.

"The last time I punched a regular human," Gaiun says, eyeing the giant teen critically. "My fist went clean through their chest and out the other side."

"Then I am fortunate that I have my Aura to protect me." A hint of fear flickers across Yatsu's face that Coco only just catches, but she smiles as he smiles.

"Although," Thaddeus says, leaning on his knuckles against the altar top. "That does not really explain what Aura is."

"Aura is our protection," Velvet replies, putting a hand onto Yatsuhashi's arm. "It's… it's our soul, or a manifestation of our soul, rather. It's our protection, and it aids our strength in battle. It powers out Semblances." Seeing the looks of confusion still prevalent on the faces of the Imperials, Velvet falters. "It… it.. that's it, really."

"What are 'Semblances'?" Dassian asks, eyeing the giant suspiciously.

Coco answers. "A Semblance is our personal power. It's… an extension of our Aura and our own innate powers. Some people say that the Semblance is a reflection of our personality and character, some say it's the other way around. As an example, my Semblance, that I've called Hype, allows me to supercharge my Dust rounds from my weapon, making them extra powerful."

"And mine is Photographic Memory." Velvet chimes in, walking with Yatsuhashi and Gaiun back to the group. "I know that Sergeant Thaddeus and Sergeant Gaiun saw me use a part of it in action in Carterstown."

"Those hologram projections weren't the whole of it?" Thaddeus asks simply, earning a small 'eh' from Velvet.

"In part. The projections, which are made from hard-light dust from my weapon, Anesidora, are only a part of it. My Semblance means that I can see someone using a weapon, and I can mimic their fighting styles almost perfectly…. Unless there's Semblance involved. I can't copy those. And Anesidora just does the weapons and they don't last all that long."

Dassian looks critically at the two boys. "And what about you two?"

Coco remains silent as she watches her teammates. Out of the four of them, Yatsuhashi has the Semblance that can probably be called the most troublesome for playing nice with. She knows that she got a bit freaked out at the idea of someone wiping memories, even if they did return in time. She has no idea how the Imperials would react to the news.

Yatsuhashi just stands there, silently, one hand behind his back while the other rubs at his chest, his face stoic though slightly pained.

Fox… he just mischievously taps his nose as he looks directly at Dassian, his blind eyes staring at the giant. "Trade secret."

The dark-skinned sergeant looks at the teen, not perturbed for a second by the sight, before his mouth splits into a grin, showing oversized white teeth and a few metal ones. "Fine. We all must have our secrets."

"They definitely do." Fox sends to Coco, both their faces passive at the mental conversation. "They're hiding something. Although what… I can't say."

"So," Coco says to the assembled warriors and officers. "Is this over, or do we still have the debrief?"

"No, we still have the debrief proper." Gaiun says, earning a groan from Coco, which brings a chuckle from him. "Merely a formality, Huntress Coco. My superiors would like to know the nature of your meeting in as much detail as we can. However, there is another thing that must be seen to."

Turning, Gaiun looks at Yatsuhashi squarely.

"Huntsman, I insulted you earlier. I pulled that first punch because I did not believe in your claim about your Aura protecting you. I apologise, and I realise that recompense must be made." He turns to face away from Yatsuhashi, putting his left side, with his good natural eye, on view. "You may hit me."

Yatsuhashi's face drops in both concern and confusion. "I can't do that!"

"Might as well," Thaddeus responds. "We have our ways, son, as do you. Gaiun was shown to be wrong. Honour demands that he pay for his mistake."

"I'm not punishing him!" Yatsuhashi says out loud, earning a chuckle from the two Steel Drakes.

"It's not punishment." Dassian says. "Astartes punish Astartes, not mortals. No, this is not punishment. This is humbling."

The two lieutenants look at each other in confusion while Team CFVY does the same.

"Nope. Don't get where you're coming from." Fox says simply.

"Look at that skull on Brother Gaiun's pauldron." Dassian says, raising a hand to gesture at the giant lizard skull on the giant's armour. From snout to tip of the spines, it has to be the same length of Coco from her waist to her head. "That is a Sigilian Dracon, an apex predator of the main recruiting world for our chapter. Even the smaller specimens can slay a mortal warrior in plate armour with ease.

"To be granted veterancy in our chapter, to earn the right of bearing the dracon skull on our armour, we are tasked to hunt these beasts, by ourselves. Without armour, without weapons."

"Madness!" Lieutenant de Pikalov blurts out, before quickly shutting his mouth when he sees Thaddeus and Dassian look at him coldly. "I mean… my lords, I know that your enhanced bodies put you above the average human, but I know that you are not immortal. To go against such beasts without armour or weapons is…"

"Exactly why we do it." Gaiun says, his face not turning from presenting his left side to Yatsuhashi. "We do this to remember the lessons the Imperium should remember: no matter how grand we think our strength, no matter how powerful we believe our force is, there will always be something out there that can bring us to ruin. The Hunting of the Dracon reminds us that: that even for us Astartes, we can always be bested."

Gaiun's head turns slightly as he looks at each member of Team CFVY with his biological eye.

"To know our enemy is to know our own strength, as it is to know theirs. And there will always be more enemies for humanity to face. Or for…" Gaiun falters as he looks at Velvet.

"Faunus. I'm a Faunus." Velvet tells him.

"Or for Faunus to face." Gaiun continues, before he turns to look at Yatsuhashi squarely. "So we must always strive to strengthen ourselves, in mind and body. And we must also know the strength of our allies. And I greatly underestimated yours, young Huntsman. So strike me, and show me your strength."

Gaiun turns, facing to the side and presenting his left cheek again, and says nothing. Coco looks at Yatsuhashi, the giant teen looking uncomfortable at the position he has been put in. He raises his right hand slightly, balling the fingers slightly into a fist.

Coco opens her mouth to say something.

She never gets the chance as Yatsuhashi throws a straight punch right at Gaiun's face.

There's no flash from his Aura this time that Coco can see, meaning that he lowered it enough for him to use his own physical strength. The punch is still hard enough to rock Gaiun back a full step, his armoured foot landing heavily to keep him upright. Blood splatters across the floor and drips from his mouth and a cut in his cheek, making Velvet and Coco gasp in shock, the two lieutenants sucking in deep breaths of surprise at what they've seen. The two Steel Drakes… Coco instantly feels her own fight reflex act up as she hears the pair take a step toward their comrade. His head is tilted down, limp and he makes no noise.

Uncomfortable seconds pass by before, with a thick hawking nose, Gaiun suddenly spits out a bloody mass of spit and clotted blood out of his mouth and onto the floor, before he stands upright. The cut on his cheek has already clotted, the bruising already turning yellow against his skin, as he wipes away the spilt blood from Yatsuhashi's punch. Turning to face the group, Coco sees that his lip has split towards the left side, but it causes Gaiun no pain, especially when he smiles, showing formerly white teeth, now bloodied.

"Honour is satisfied." The sergeant holds out his right arm. "Strength and honour to you, Huntsman Yatsuhashi."

Yatsu looks at the giant in shock, his hand, still balled into a fist, held in front of him, before a bemused smile comes to his face. He even lets out a little laugh as he grasps Sergeant Gaiun's hand, the gauntlet almost encasing his before Gaiun shifts it forward and takes a hold of Yatsu's forearm. That doesn't stop the teen shaking it warmly.

"I am not doing that again." Yatsuhashi confesses.

"Save it for the Grimm, guys." Coco says happily, smiling herself at the sight.

Something fills her again, at the sight before her and the sounds of assent from behind her. These guys are so very different to anyone on Remnant, and very weird. So very weird. But… there's a shared humanity in everything they do. Something she can connect to, even if it is small and hidden deep beneath armour and the weird practices of their culture.

But, Coco tells herself, from what she saw of their strength, combined with how strong the Kingdoms can be… the Grimm wouldn't stand a chance.

---

Under the noonday sun, in a portion of Fort Tempest set aside for another regiment to make their berth, a town is being built. A town for the townless. A town of metal bones, and canvas, flakboard and corrugated steel skin. Soldiers in the khaki dress of the Cadian 598th, those who had fought in the defence of Carterstown and those who had remained on standby at the fort, move around in squads and platoons as they do the job they have been given, under the supervision of Departmento Munitorum labour officers and Cadian engineers.

Under orders from Colonel Creed himself, the people of Carterstown have been given above-ground accommodation rather than the underground barracks the guardsmen have. The new town will not be as big as Carterstown originally was, the majority of available space given over to the Cadians, but made up of large barracks, each one comfortable enough to fit in a single platoon, more than make up the job.

Under the eagle eye of their officers of engineers and labour corps overseer, the construction moves at a quick pace, as expected of Cadian guardsmen. In actual fact, the construction goes faster than expected. The first barrack has been built, with many of the townspeople already doing their best to make the interiors as close to homely as possible.

Watching the goings on from the nearby spool of evacuated earth, a partly-filled hessian sandbag in her hands, Sophia looks at the scene of the people she helped save with a feeling of fondness and… a little bit of annoyance.

"I hate construction detail." Sophia grumbles out, holding the neck of the bag open to let another soldier shovel more dirt into it. "Give me a target to burn any day of the week."

"You're just upset that you can't fawn over the little girl!" One of her platoon members calls out further down the line of the spool as he hefts a filled bag onto his shoulder and walks off.

"No, it's not!" Sophia calls out testily, before she turns and looks at the soldier in front of her. Pale-skinned and thin-faced, the other woman looks at Sophia from under her forage cap with a disbelieving expression. "… okay, maybe a little."

The woman does not say a word as she shakes her head and shovels more dirt into the sack. When it's filled enough, Sophia quickly and swiftly folds the top of the bag over before easily hefting the bag onto her shoulder. Muscles bunch and shift as her arms heft the weight, the sandbag almost insignificant compared to her flamer.

Sophia is proud of her body. She's been to so many different worlds and seen so many different cultures, and how they value the female form. She's been on the receiving end of criticism and praise when she's been walking around as she is now, wearing her fatigues and a vest, her right arm tattooed with the various litanies of protection and supplication to her weapon's machine spirit on display. She's heard a few soldiers even say that there's a pinup on a Hellhound that has her likeness on it, but Sophia's never seen it.

Stopping in front of the barrack, Sophia shucks off the sandbag and plants it down against the wall on top of the others already there, while above her another Cadian sits on the roof, helping one of the inhabitants from Carterstown hammer down the roof properly. Patting the sandbag down absentmindedly, the flamer specialist gives voice to the thought that's been bugging her.

"Not one guy has smacked me in the arse."

The bustle around her continues, but the sound of hammering stops almost immediately, before a familiar voice calls down to her.

"Sophia, I would honestly love to know what goes on inside your head for one day."

Looking up first in confusion before a smile splits her face, Sophia looks up at Tychos, sitting on top of the slanted metal roof, while Bear Stone looks down at her too with a look of confusion on his face. The pair have been fixing the corrugated steel roof of the barrack, Stone hammering down the nails while Tychos simply holds a box of nails in hand.

"I thought you were supposed to be doing light duties?" Sophia asks quickly, pointing at the formerly flogged foot-soldier.

"I am!" Tychos responds, sounding insulted, before he jangles the box of sharp metal implements. "How is this not a light duty? It's lighter than what you're doing. And really? You're confused that no-one has smacked you in the arse?"

"Well yeah!" Sophia replies in an annoyed voice. "You know as well as I do, that whenever we get deployed with other regiments, someone always smacks me on the arse."

"Well…" Tychos begins, clearly not sure what to say. "The last time someone did that, you beat the guy around the head with a metal pole."

A wincing sound comes from Bear, drawing a smile from Sophia as she nonchalantly waves her hand at him.

"Oh, it was nothing major." The flamer specialist says simply. "He was a Necromundan. He had it coming."

The look of confusion on the man's face tells Sophia that it wasn't a simple answer.

"Necromundans are hive-gangers, from Necromunda." Tychos explains, handing the man another nail. "Some of the lowest of the low, even if they're good fighters. They're all shit-heels in some shape or form too."

"I always have the problems with those sorts of guys." Sophia says, putting her hands on her hips as she shakes her head. "Never had a problem from Catachans. Or Steel Legion."

"Or Elysians. Or Mordians." Tychos points out, pointing at Sophia with a single nail in his hand.

"Vostroyans are a good lot. Their rahzvod is a good drink." Sophia says pointedly. "Though Valhallan tanna? Never again."

Tychos winces in agreement, shaking his head with a grimace at the mention of the dark Valhallan drink.

"Are… all of these people… from places on your planet… Cadia?" Bear asks, hammer and nail held uncertainly in both hands, his eyes flicking between the pair.

For a moment, the pair are silent, the words from the man going through their minds before the thought finally clicks into place and they remember where they are.

"Ah, no." Sophia says with a soft chuckle. "No, they're from planets. Different planets. Very different planets."

Bear doesn't say anything, his mouth hanging open just a bit as he nods his head in what passes for understanding. At length, he speaks, an uncertain and slightly fearful look on his face and tone to his face. "Well… let me assure you, miss, that you won't have any problems with any problem from anyone here about… smacking your… arse."

"Wise words, Bear Stone." A familiar voice says from beside Sophia, making the big, bearded man on top of the barrack flinch in fear and the flamer specialist turn, a smile taking over her face as she sees Nella Stone, and two small but familiar figures accompanying her.

Melo gives a small giggle at the taller woman, holding a bag almost as big as her torso, containing all that she took from her home. "You guys are weird."

Sophia doesn't say anything, just giving a small shrug and a grin in reply. Instead, she turns her attention to the other young girl present. A sad-looking girl, a homeless orphan among homeless orphans. "Are you okay, little one?"

Carmen doesn't say anything, just giving a little nod at the question. She's been sullen ever since she and the others arrived in Fort Tempest. Where the other townspeople were exultant at being saved and rescued, even in such a strange environment as the fort, Carmen has found the whole situation overwhelming and scary, so she's withdrawn in herself.

Poor thing wouldn't have lasted as long as she has if she were on Cadia.

But this wasn't Cadia, and little Carmen wasn't destined for that sort of life.

"Hey, little sister." Sophia says, dropping into a crouch in front of the little abhuman, keeping herself smiling. "I know it's not fun here, but cheer up. In here, there's no chance that a Grimm is going to get at you. You're safe."

Carmen looks up at Sophia, her golden eyes looking sullen, before she simply nods her head. It's too sullen and simple a gesture for so young a child, and it hurts a part of Sophia to see it.

The matriarch of the Stone family sees the gesture too. "Melo, honey, why don't you take Carmen into the house and see about getting our spot set up."

The young teen nods her head, her deep green hair bouncing slightly. "Okay, mom." Taking the younger girl by the hand, Melo leads Carmen into the barrack, leaving the adults together.

"She won't be staying with us." Nella says flatly, making Sophia whip her head up to look at the woman. "We talked to your… Munitorum people, and they said that since she is not technically in the registry for the people in Carterstown, then she can't be placed with us."

The sound of feet descending down a ladder accompany the sound of Tychos' sardonic chuckle. "Yeah, that's the… Departmento Munitorum for you." He pauses as he reaches the bottom of the ladder, his hands gripping the sides of the ladder tightly as his face scrunches up into a pained grimace. "Buggering hell…"

Immediately, Sophia is at Tychos' side, putting her hands onto him to support him. "I thought that the Sister gave you those drugs?" She whispers at him in Cadian.

"She did," Tychos responds before looking at her from the corner of his eye. "And she also said that you should have allowed me to rest longer before you pulled me from the medicae."

Sophia smiles guiltily at the statement before she speaks quietly. "Family has to keep close." Stepping away from Tychos, after giving him a pat on the shoulder, she turns to look at Nella. "Did you talk to anyone from the regiment for help?"

The woman nods her head. "I spoke to one of your lieutenants, Maulville? He said that he'll talk to your captain about the situation, and they'll see what they can do."

Sophia nods her head in understanding. The problems sounds like the sort of thing the Administratum would get really anal about.

"What's going on over here? What's the hold up?" The mechanically shrill voice cuts through the air like a bayonet, and it makes both Sophia and Nella cringe in pain.

Speaking of the Administratum…

The figure stalking towards them is tall, rapier thin, suggesting he was born on a low-gravity world, but even Sophia can see the strength in his legs and arm underneath his deep brown cassock. The augmetic left arm, made of brass and steel, is a brutal combination of boxes and gears, though it does nothing to distract from the sight of the small vox-speaker installed into his neck. His head is large and almost perfectly round, the bald skin catching the light slightly and showing the mark of the Adeptus Administratum tattooed on his forehead.

Sophia quickly scans the overseer with the practiced eye of a Cadian, seeing what weapons he carries. Medium calibre auto-pistol on his left hip, holstered and clipped shut. Shock baton hanging close to it. Coiled whip hanging from his right hip, clearly in view, and not used today. Even if he hasn't used the whip, Sophia still immediately dislikes the man. Though that's nothing to say of Nella's reaction.

The woman takes a few steps backwards as the overseer advances towards them, his eyes fixed firmly on the two women in a scowl. When he speaks, the words leave the vox-speaker in his throat seconds before his lips form the words.

"What is the Throne-damned meaning of this?"

To Sophia, it's weird but not too unusual. From the look on Nella's face, it's disturbing.

"Lay off, all right?" Tychos speaks up, moving from the ladder to sit on the sandbags piled against the barrack's exterior wall. "We've got important things to discuss."

The out of sync words come again. "Quiet, trooper." The overseer turns his eyes, bright blue and hawkish, onto Nella. "Your leader made a pledge that you… civilians, would assist in the construction of your temporary habitation."

"It's just a friendly chat about regimental business." Sophia responds, her voice testy as she looks at the man. Even though they all serve the same master of all, does not mean that she needs to get along with the guy.

The overseer looks at her for a second, before turning to look at Nella with scorn. Above them, the sound of creaking metal fills the immediate air as Bear Stone leans forward with interest, prompting the overseer to snap his head to look up at the man. Glancing past the overseer, Sophia sees an officer of engineers, his own flak armour off and jacket open, striding quickly towards the group.

"Is this your woman?" The Munitorum overseer says, an accusing tone in his artificial voice.

"She's my wife." Bear growls out, low and dangerously, just like the animal of his namesake.

"Then you should keep your woman in line."

The punch flies faster than Sophia expected, but she still lets out a barking laugh as Nella socks the overseer directly in the nose. The man's fake voice box emits a weird shrieking cry as he stumbles backwards, clutching at his nose. Sophia sees blood begin to seep through his fingers.

"Enough!" The overseer bawls out, removing his hand from his face as he quickly reaches for the whip at his belt. "To the Warp with this 'civilian volunteer' bullshit! You'll pay for that, you little-"

He never finishes the sentence as the man finds himself hefted up off the ground and brought face to face with a very angry Bear Stone. As soon as the overseer had been punched by his wife, Bear had launched himself from the roof to the ground and rushed to his wife's side. Now, he has the Munitorum man gripped by the scruff of his cassock hard, the fabric straining under the tight grip.

"Do you really want to do that, boy?" Bear practically spits the words at the overseer, his hair bristling with barely constrained anger. "You best put yer hands down or I'll be pulling yer head up through yer asshole!"

The change in Bear Stone's accent was as shocking to Sophia as it was to the overseer, who's face paled in fright. Again, the out of sync words came from the man's neck, his lips moving as blood flowed down his face. "Y-you can't… you can't do this! I'm… I'm a…"

"Put the man down, sir." A gruff voice says as a solid looking hand lands on Bear's arm, instantly snapping his attention to the newcomer. The officer of engineers looks like a cousin of Bear's: tall, large and strong, though his head of crew cut grey hair is covered by a standard issue field cap and a short cut beard of the same colour. His eyes, the same violet of any Cadian, look kindly at Bear as he speaks. "He probably does deserve it, but let's just put him down."

Bear looks flatly at the man. "He insulted. My wife."

The officer nods his head. "I know, I heard. That vox-speaker in his throat doesn't let him be quiet. But put him down, sir."

Bear is quiet for a moment, and Sophia half expects the man to just begin pummelling away at the overseers face. But, reluctantly, he lowers the other man to the ground, letting go of the cassock. The engineer officer gently pats Bear on the arm, before he too grabs the front of the overseer's cassock and pulls him forward.

"Don't even think about treating these people like some of your labour corps drones." The officer hisses out. "These people are under the protection of the 598th, and so are under the protection of all Cadians here. Colonel Creed's orders. Act like that again, and I will personally see you dropped outside of the defensive line. Now, piss off."

He pushes the overseer away roughly, the man staggering under the shove. He looks at the officer, a rebuttal forming on his lips, before he quickly turns around and stamps off. Sophia almost bursts into a bout of laughter again, until she sees the captaincy markings on the officer's jacket as he turns to look at the group. Instead she stands upright and salutes, Tychos doing the same beside her, rising from his seat on the sandbags to stand at attention. The officer salutes the pair before turning his attention to Nella.

"Are you okay, miss?" He asks sincerely. "That looked like a strong punch."

Nella gives out a small chuckle at the compliment, looking to Sophia and Tychos in confusion as she smiles. "Well, that is how we deal with people like that in the wilds."

The officer nods his head. "I don't doubt it. Now… officially, I should be giving you a reprimand for assaulting a member of the Munitorum, both of you. Officially though… I didn't see a damn thing. And unofficially, nice right hook."

That gets a chuckle from Sophia and Tychos, though they say nothing as the captain continues talking to Mister and Misses Stone.

"If the Munitorum gives you, or anyone grief, ask any of the soldiers around for Captain Zachary. Cadians look after our own, and we look after those who need us."

Sophia sees Nella smile softly as she nods her head, Captain Zachary giving a gentle pat on her arm before walking away. Again, the flamer specialist chuckles slightly as she sees the woman turn to look at her, a look of confusion on her face.

"Are… are all you… Cadians like this?" Nella asks as her husband comes up beside her, putting a protective arm across her shoulders.

"The guy you punched definitely wasn't Cadian." Tychos says with a smile. "He'd have known better."

Suddenly, a cheer rolls up from the assembled people of Carterstown, a joyous sound that makes all heads turn.

"I didn't know we had an audience." Bear Stone says, suddenly feeling guilty about what happened. The group moves to look around the front of the barrack house, the door opening to let Carmen and Melo pop their heads to investigate the noise.

The sight at the end of the short row makes the group smile as Nella quips. "They're not definitely not cheering for us, honey."

Walking down in their mismatched panoply of colours, Team CFVY is out and about, strutting their stuff to happy cheers of the people of Carterstown and the respectful applause of the other Cadians. Their leader, wearing her beret and shades, seems to soak it all in, actually raising a hand like a visiting general to the onlookers.

Not to say that she didn't deserve it, Sophia thought to herself. CFVY's leader did stand at the breach alongside the Kasrkin and Sergeant Thaddeus. And so did the other abhuman girl too.

The clatter of small claws on the steel roof above them draws Sophia's attention upwards to see a bird, a corvid of some sort, all pitch black feathers, grey beak and small beady red eyes. It looks tired, and droops slightly on its perch, wings spread out over the metal.

"That can't be…" Sophia says to herself at the sight of the very familiar looking bird.

"Fancy seeing you guys here!" The voice of Coco Adel brings the attention back to her group. Looking back, Sophia can't help but smile at seeing the group all together in one piece.

"Good to see you lot in one piece." Tychos says as the other group come close, the two young girls moving to stand by their guardians as they begin to talk. Though in Carmen's place, she stands right behind Tychos' legs. "Good to see the commissariat kept you in one piece."

"Not through lack of trying." The blind boy, with dark-skin and copper coloured hair, Fox if Sophia remembers their identities right, says bluntly. The testiness in his voice shows that it was as unpleasant an experience as she imagined. But at least they came out of it alive.

Any negative feeling is quickly forgotten though as Bear Stone quickly moves forward and wraps his arms around the three smallest members of the group, clutching them tight to his broad chest in a great big hug.

"Thank you all so much!" The large man says happily as he hugs the three in his grip, joy plain in his voice and on his face. A look of joy that is shared on his wife's face and the face of their daughter as they both move in for a hug of their own. "Thank you so much. If there's anything we can do to repay you, don't be afraid to ask!"

"Breathe!" Fox calls out, his voice strained from the pressure. "Let us breathe!"

As quickly as he grabbed them, Bear let the teens go, all looking quite embarrassed. Bear however still beams with joy and pride at the group. In his place, Nella moves forward, planting soft kisses on cheeks and foreheads of the teens in front of her, standing up on her toes to kiss the giant teen's cheek, making him blush in the process. Watching the teens, Sophia sees Fox slowly raise a hand to the cheek that Nella kissed, although the motion is quickly forgotten as Melo rushes forward, taking a hold of Coco's hands and begins gushing.

"You. Are. So cool!" The green-haired girl calls out, joy and adoration plain on her face. "I mean: you're a Huntress, with the gun and skills, but your outfit is just… Brothers, it's so amazing, and cool!"

Sophia shares a chuckle with Tychos at the praise being heaped onto the team as Melo switches her attention to Velvet, the rabbit-eared girl blushing slightly at the attention.

"I wonder what that's like." Tychos suddenly says, catching Sophia off-guard, though she quickly nods her head. No-one's ever given that sort of praise to them, or any Cadian they know probably. Hell, the Guard in general, outside of propaganda shoots, got praise like that. It just wasn't done.

The sound of small shuffling footsteps draws the Cadian's attention to the small figure behind Tychos, looking down to see Carmen clutching against Tychos' trouser leg, using him as concealment.

"Don't want to say hello?" Tychos asks, prompting a quick shake of the head from the abhuman child, her floppy ears whipping around slightly.

"Hey, cutie." Coco's voice calls out, the teen approaching them, Melo switching to the giant teen happily. The shades cover her eyes, but she's clearly fixed her sight onto Carmen. "Good to see you again."

Coming up beside her, the other abhuman, Velvet, Sophia reminds herself, approaches them carefully. And immediately, Carmen slinks deeper behind Tychos for cover. She shies away from the only other person like her.

"Hey, Carmen." Velvet says softly, crouching down to try and bring her head as close to level with the child's as possible, a small smile on her face. "I'm glad you got out okay."

Carmen doesn't say a word, just pushing her face against Tychos' lower back, emitting a low whine as she looks away.

"Sorry about that." Tychos says, putting a hand behind him to rest on the girls head. "She's been like this for the last few days. She's…"

"Traumatised." Coco says simply, sadly. "I know about it. We have to study about it at Beacon, dealing with young kids who lost family to Grimm. Not just kids, but adults too."

Tychos and Sophia nod their head. They've seen similar; PDF troopers, green Guardsmen from other regiments, sent into the fire for the first time and just… locking up. Most times, they'd be taken off the line if they could. Other times, it was the commissars bullet.

"We'll take good care of her." Tychos says, and Sophia knows he means it, nodding her head in agreement. "I swear it."

Smiling, Coco removes her shades, revealing a pair of dark brown eyes that look warmly at the Cadians, as Velvet stands upright. "I can believe that."

"So," Nella said, moving to stand next to the group, as she looks at Coco and Velvet. "Are you lot leaving right now?"

Coco shakes her head. "No. There's still stuff for the leaders to sort out with travel, documentation, all that. We've been allowed to stay here until they say we can leave."

"I hope that's soon." Velvet says morosely, her ears drooping slightly. "I need a shower."

"Well then!" Sophia says, stepping forward and slapping a hand against Velvet's shoulder, hard enough to rock the girl. "Why not get extra ready for that shower and help us shift the last of this stuff for these good people?"

A small number of cheers go up from the audience that the group has accrued now, people from Carterstown and other Cadians. And Coco plays perfectly to the crowd.

"Well, it is only fair. Got to give these older folks a bit of a rest."

Good natured jeers roll out, from the people of Remnant and the Cadians, but no-one says no to the help. Soon, a sergeant moves his way through the crowd and begins directing Team CFVY on where to go and where to help out with construction work.

As they walk away, Sophia is not surprised to see Velvet turn around and look at Carmen again. The young girl is still behind Tychos' body, but that doesn't stop the older teen from raising a hand and waving slightly before she turns and follows the rest of her group.

---

With the addition of Team CFVY and their Auras to the construction detail, the raising of the miniature, temporary town moves quicker apace than expected. The team of Huntsmen-cadets moves their own weight and more, hefting stacks of sheets and material that would have taken twice their number to lift. Yatsuhashi ends up being made something of a star to the engineers as he helps heft around pallets of flakboard that would have required a Sentinel lifter to budge.

Even Velvet, the smallest of the bunch, was seen speeding around, a pair of sandbags hefted onto her shoulders easily before she either hands them to other people or sets them down in place.

It's hard work, even for them, under the hot sun. But they power through it, all of them giving their best. Alongside the townsfolk and the Cadians, the last few barrack houses are raised, and the miniature town is completed. Even the busy bodying from the Administratum officials does nothing to put a damper on the situation for everyone, nor does their first meeting with the diminutive people called 'Ratlings' who end up bringing food for them all.

Short, stout, and very hairy, each of the group of cooks only stands up to just below Velvet's chest, a fact they seem to take delight in. A sergeant of engineers explained that they were 'stable mutants' or 'abhumans' from a world that was 'too good for them'. Velvet didn't ask what that meant, a plate of steaming meat dripping with runny brown gravy and something green and mushy pushed into her hands.

"Enjoy yer grox, lassie!" One of the Ratlings had said, with a very lecherous grin and a wink. Though Velvet had been more focused on the food in her hands than the small beings' words.

It was definitely meat, smelt like it. None of Team CFVY were sure what the green mush was, even though it had a vegetable smell to it. A very nondescript vegetable smell. It literally smelt green.

"What's grox?" Yatsuhashi had asked a Cadian who was handing out knives and forks to the people who didn't have any.

"It's tasty, and edible." The Cadian replied happily. "And that's all that needs to be said on the matter."

Confused by the statement, but hungry, Velvet quickly did her best to cut into the meat after finding somewhere to sit down. The meat was tough to cut through, even when she found the grain in the meat. It was definitely well cooked, whereas Velvet much preferred it medium, but right then she couldn't care much. So she steeled herself before biting down into it.

It was so much better than she imagined. Though she couldn't pin down a definite comparison, it tasted like a combination of the texture of beef with the flavour of chicken. And it was tasty. The gravy was so rich and even the vegetable mush was more palatable than she thought it would be, especially when mixed in with the gravy. It certainly filled a hole in her stomach, and from the sounds her friends were making, it worked for them too.

That had been three hours ago, and now Team CFVY is sitting around near the barracks again, resting against a small, tracked vehicle they've been told is a Centaur, waiting for… something to happen. They'd been given the order to 'stand by', and that had been two hours ago.

So here they were, sitting beside a very uncomfortable smelly lump of metal, bereft of weapons and anything else. Velvet had tried getting her scroll out to contact one of the professors, but the signal at the fort was worthless, nowhere strong enough to get a message through to Beacon. Still, she was able to get some good snaps of the base with the camera.

At least they have company. The portion of the fort for the townspeople is in full swing, with groups of Cadians interacting with the townspeople. Officers in field caps, peaked caps, and berets and body armour stand with groups of townspeople, men and women, asking questions on their experiences with the Grimm.

It does make sense. Having used a lasgun herself, Velvet knows that one such rifle is nowhere near perfectly capable of downing a Grimm by itself without a good, lucky shot. So the Cadians ask: they ask for the best ways to hit a Grimm with a lasgun, which ones are more susceptible to limb or head shots. Sure, they've been asked similar questions, but the townspeople had knowledge that even CFVY didn't have.

So that leaves CFVY a bit side-lined.

"Ow!"

Though not alone. Melo Stone has been hanging around Fox and Yatsuhashi, the pair that saved her and Carmen in Carterstown from the Alpha Beowulf that managed to get behind the lines, and where she goes, Carmen goes, and where they go, Nella Stone goes.

"I'm sorry, dear." Nella says softly to Carmen, the Faunus girl sitting on her lap as she tries to work at something stuck in her hair. "It's stuck in the hair and your ear hair too, and I can't-"

"OW!" Carmen cries out sharply, making a few faces turn to look at her. "It hurts!"

"Here." Velvet says, moving next to Nella to see what she can do. Looking down, she sees a small splinter of wood tangled in her hair, probably from something the townspeople brought with them or from one of the pallets, and it's tangled up in her regular hair and the hair at the base of one of her rabbit ears. A situation Velvet can sympathise with. "Miss Stone, I'll take over."

Leaning over, Velvet begins to pick at the hair around the splinter, her small fingers and her near life-long hobby of fiddling with electronics lending her skill and speed that the older woman can't match. Soon, she has the hair untangled and the splinter thrown away.

"There, all better." Velvet says warmly, running her fingers through Carmen's hair to smooth it down. Carmen doesn't say anything in response, keeping her head down and not looking at Velvet.

A loud roar of engines pulls everyone's attention skyward as, looking up, they see the four steel coloured craft of the Steel Drakes rocket hard into the sky, banking upwards towards the heavens and Remnant's shattered moon, visible in the day's sky. They briefly catch the light of the sun on their armour plating before their engines propel them through the sky, leaving behind contrails that disappear slowly.

"It'll be okay." Velvet says, to Carmen or to herself. "It'll be okay."

The smell that hits Velvet and Carmen both makes them sneeze almost in synchronicity, a smell that overpowered the smell coming from the Centaur.

"Marvellous…"

The word is said softly, almost enough to miss, but it makes Velvet turn her head. In the middle of the road, standing before a group of four disinterested Kasrkin and five men in the same sort of dress, is a man in a large red robe, which covers him from head to toe. On his back, he wears a large metal backpack, with a set of large claws, large enough to match an Ursa's snout in size and strength, while snake-like wires the thickness of a thumb lay limb across the back, though they look like they're attached to something underneath his hood. He's staring up at the sky, following the path of the Astartes' aircraft until they've long gone out of sight, before he lets out an almost melancholy sigh, a very mechanical sounding sigh.

"Oh, to see the Omnissiah's grace and majesty perfected in such forms… beauty. True beauty."

The man turns his head, and everyone, except for Fox, beside the Centaur recoils at what they see. Where once was a man's face was a patchwork collection of iron, steel and brass. His right eye is biological, showing a bright green eye, while his left is a collection of four green optics, each one a different size to the other. They whirr and click, showing that they are intently focusing on the group. Where his mouth should be, a rebreather-like mask is there, a pair of small pumps moving slightly as the man breathes in Remnants air. Beneath, a pendant dangles: half black iron and half something akin to ivory, a skull sits inside it. Half of a human skull over the iron and half a mechanical version of the skull over the ivory.

"I am talking to Team CFVY, correct?" He asks, turning his head side to side to look at everyone.

"That's… that's us four." Yatsuhashi responds, moving his hand to encompass his team. "Umm… you are…"

"Ah yes, introductions." The man says, the voice sounding biological but also… not. "I am tech-priest Wigmar-Zeta-0295."

The man bows slightly before he links the metallic fingers of his hands together, right over left.

"Blessings of the Omnissiah, the Machine God, to you, warriors of this world."

The group is silent as… Wigmar-Zeta-0295 stands upright, looking at them with his mismatched eyes.

"Hello." Fox says bluntly as he moves to stand upright. "Are you here to tell us we can go home now?"

"Fox!" Velvet says in response. Though the action earns a robotic chuckle from the 'tech-priest'.

"I have been told that you are being allowed to leave, yes." He turns slightly to indicate the group behind him. "The soldiers of the Kasrkin 609th Battalion are here to be your escort. I, however, have been instructed to return your personal weapons to you."

This sends an excited energy through the team, all the others standing up as Wigmar-Zeta-0295 turns to his followers. He emits a… burst of sound. Neither speech nor mechanical sound, but a mix of both. A garbled, warbling sound that comes from his mouth. It's clearly a command to the others in red, for they all step forward.

As one, the other 'tech-priests' move forward, bearing the weapons from Team CFVY. Not holding them, like ordinary people would, but actually bearing them, like devout worshippers. The way they hold Fulcrum, Sharp Retribution, Gianduja, even Velvet's own humble Anesidora is held in a pair of hands on a red velvet sash that makes it look more important than it was.

"As per… instructions from the honoured Astartes, no tampering has been done to your weapons." Wigmar says as his followers stand before Team CFVY. "Admission: although I did not tamper with the other weapons, I did have the blades sharpened to within acceptable tolerances for the metals used in their construction, and also within Imperial parameters for combat blades pursuant to Astartes-levels of combat."

Watching her friends, Velvet sees Yatsuhashi lift up Fulcrum, the giant teen turning it slightly side to side to inspect it. Velvet sees what he sees: his blade certainly looks sharper than before. Some of the notches have been reduced in size, but they were still there, so Yatsuhashi sheathes the blade on his back.

A slashing sound fills the air as Fox performs a few practice swings with his bladed tonfas. He spins the blades, performing a few lunging faints, before standing back and nodding his head in satisfaction. "Good."

Wigmar bows his head. "All weapons used in the defence of Mankind are to be venerated and shown their due respect."

Without ceremony, Coco picks up her weapon, still in its handbag form, from the two tech-priests carrying it and slings it casually over her shoulder. For her part, Velvet takes Anesidora's boxed form back and sticks to her back. "Thank you so much. If you'd like, at some point, I can show you how mine works. If we're allowed to come back, I mean."

Wigmar looks at the Faunus student-Huntress, shock plain even on his heavily mechanical face. Before she knows it, the tech-priest is striding towards her, the wires at his back actually moving around of their volition before she stands face to face with her, leaning forward slightly to look at her face directly. The tec-priest smells. He smells of oil, incense and metal lubricant. It's off-putting.

"Truly?" Wigmar asks, almost in shock at what he's heard. "You'd reveal to me the secrets of your machine?"

Velvet feels ready to bolt back away from this… person, as he is far too close, a near manic look in his single eye, but a quick coughing sound from behind draws the man back.

"Tech-priest, not to interrupt this little gathering, but we need to move these people on. Now."

Looking over the tech-priest's shoulder, Wigmar seeming to have locked up in shock, Velvet sees one of the Kasrkin, sergeant's stripes stark white against his dark green uniform, looking in annoyance at the goings on before him. Wordlessly, Wigmar nods his head and moves his body back upright.

"Of course, my apologies." He looks directly at Velvet, his face more sedate as he bows his head again. "The Omnissiah reveals His mysteries in a manner and time of his own choosing. We should not rush such a thing. Forgive me."

Again, Wigmar bows his head, meshing his fingers together again.

"Omnissiah watch over you, Team CFVY."

Velvet nods her head in response, before quickly moving past the tech-priest, her team following as they move to join the Kasrkin and the walk to their way home. Nella and Melo wave goodbye to the group, all of the other townspeople following suit. Turning her head, Velvet sees that Carmen doesn't, just watching the group walk away.

---

It made sense that since Team CFVY had left Beacon in an aircraft, then they would arrive at Beacon in an aircraft.

Though none of them are still used to the way a Valkyrie moves at speed. Give Coco a Bullhead any day of the week if she wanted a comfortable ride. But, like her friends, she wants to get back to Beacon fast. So, Valkyrie it is.

The departure from Fort Tempest was… lacklustre, she had to admit. Part of her wanted something more. Something to show that the Cadians had recognised the efforts of her and her team in the fight to save the soldiers and civilians in Carterstown. A fly past, a band and small parade. Hell, even a speech.

But no. They were just taken to the tarmac of the airstrip in the base and shown to a Valkyrie, one that was definitely cleaner than the others, even if it was sporting the pattern of a white eagle's beak and head on the nose, and then put onboard with their Kasrkin escort and then… off they went. Though the lieutenant that met them in the aircraft, Lieutenant Weispe, from Alpha Company of the 598th, telling them he would be part of their escort, was a nice touch.

They'd been told it was an hour's flight time at their current speed.

Sitting in one of the restraint chairs at the side of the aircraft, her hands folded behind her head as she reclines as much as she can, Coco has to admit that there is merit in the decision. The faster this aircraft can get them to Beacon, the faster they can get back to their base.

Though one thing does bug her…

"How do you know where to go?" Coco calls out to Lieutenant Weispe, the man currently flicking through a small stack of papers. When he looks up, his violet eyes look at Coco in confusion, so she repeats the question. "How do your pilots know where Beacon is? Do they even know where Vale is?"

In reply, Weispe points a hand at the ceiling of the aircraft. "Orbital scans! We got a good view of the land, where major settlements are and such, so they've got that data."

Coco just nods her head in understanding as she slyly looks to her side at Fox. For his part, the Vacuon just shrugs his shoulders and sits comfortably in his seat, just letting himself be jostled by the aircraft slightly. Velvet is sitting with her Scroll, going through some photos that she managed to take inside the fort and Yatsuhashi… he's never had a good time with aircraft seats.

"I can't wait to get home." Yatsu sends over the team speak, making Coco chuckle slightly.

At least the aircraft isn't being attacked by Grimm.

"I have a signal!" Velvet suddenly calls out, surprise and joy in her voice, making everyone jump at the speed with which she says it. "We're in range of a relay station then."

"Can you contact Beacon then?" Coco asks, leaning forward slightly to watch the Faunus Huntress cadet do her work with her scroll. Even the Cadians lean forward in their seats as they watch Velvet work.

"I can. Just let me…" Her face drops slightly, from joy to mute fear. "We might be in trouble."

Fox turns his head to look at Velvet. "What do you mean?"

"Professor Goodwitch tried contacting us. Thirty times." Velvet replies, sounding quite scared.

Coco opens her mouth to respond, but then she sees the list of 'missed call' messages on the screen. And there's a lot. It's enough to make her grimace. "Umm… maybe we should call Professor Port."

"What about Ozpin?" Fox asks, reclining back in his seat again. Only he could be so calm in this sort of situation. "Surely he'd be the better option to call if we don't want to get into trouble with Goodwitch."

Looking up slightly, Coco sees the Cadians looking at Team CFVY in confusion and expectancy, waiting to see what they will do.

"Okay." Coco says, nodding her head. "Call Ozpin."

Taking a breath to calm herself, Velvet quickly scrolls through the options on her Scroll before selecting the option to call Professor Ozpin.

"Ozpin is the headmaster of Beacon Academy, where we stay and train." Yatsuhashi says, clarifying for the Cadians as they listen to the sound of the call connecting.

A beep follows as the call connects.

"This is Professor Ozpin." The calm, almost sedate voice of the headmaster of Beacon says, though no video comes through. "It is good to hear from you, Miss Scarlatina."

"Miss Scarlatina!" The stern voice of Professor Goodwitch speaks up quickly. "You have very good timing to make this call. We were about to send out a rescue party for you. You missed the deadline for emergency contact and we-"

"Umm… Professor?" Yatsuhashi interrupts. "First off; we apologise for not contacting you earlier. Circumstances meant that we couldn't get a message through. So the rescue party can be called off."

"Mister Daichi?" Ozpin asks, sounding confused. "I'm afraid I can't hear you. It's hard to hear you properly. Are you on your way back to Beacon or not?"

"Give that here, bun." Coco says, taking the Scroll from Velvet as she stands up. Quickly, she presses the button on the scroll to activate the video feed. In a second, the screen fills with the image of Professors Ozpin and Goodwitch looking at the Scroll intently. "Yes, we're on our way back. And we have some company too."

Without warning, Coco promptly strides forward to the other side of the Valkyrie's interior and sits herself directly next to Lieutenant Weispe, a shocked looking coming to his face as she holds the Scroll in front of the both of them like she's taking a selfie. A look of shock that is shared by the two professors on the other end of the call.

"So we'll need to use the landing pad, if you don't mind. Because we've made some very interesting friends."

---

AN: I am NOT GOOD at keeping to a schedule. Maybe it would help that I even had a schedule.

But, here it is! Chapter 8 is done. The first more... civilized contact between the people of Remnant and the members of the Imperium of Man.

Now, I know which part of the story would cause consternation and controversy. And I'm going to be honest; PLEASE do not go telling me that what I wrote was wrong or what I should have written. I did not want this story to be one where the Imperium shows up and goes "WE ARE BETTER THAN EVERYONE! HUNTSMEN ARE USELESS!", nor did I want it do be a story where the RWBY cast goes "WE'RE STRONGER THAN EVERYONE! ASTARTES SUCK!". RWBY and 40k are two vastly different types of stories, with two vastly different power systems and set ups. Hell, if you just described some of the powers for the RWBY cast to someone who didn't know, they'd probably say they're super heroes.

But that's what happens when you have this sort of mashup story: it's a combination of a society that is protected massively by superheroes instead of regular armies, and a society that is protected massively by regular armies and any superheroes come with massive strings attached to their powers.

That's all I'm going to say on the matter now.

So, thank you for reading. Again, if you want to support me on , go to Ciaran's Curios. Very cheap, $3 for the cheapest option.