MASS EFFECT DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. WARHAMMER DOES NOT BELONG TO ME. TZEENTCH SAYS HI. APPARENTLY, HE TRICKED ME INTO GIVING HIM MY SOUL LAST WEEK, AND I CAN GET IT BACK IF I LET HIM SAY HI.

There are many ways to kill Orks. My personal favorites involve very large guns, from very far away, because there's no way I'm getting close to one of those guys. I'm not crazy.

Star-Bound

Chapter 32

Fury

"Keep pushing!" Sister Superior Agatha shouted. "Do not let up the momentum!"

Josephine felt a hand grip her leg, and saw an Ork grabbing her, despite being bisected at the waist. She kicked the alien away, then set it alight with a quick burst from her flamer. Nearby, Katarin blew another Ork's head off with a single shot from her bolter.

"Excellent shooting," Josephine complimented.

Katarin nodded. "You should be more observant. That Ork was obviously not dead. And you should not waste holy promethium like that; just kick in its skull."

Josephine sighed at the criticism. "Its filthy touch sullied my armor, so forgive me for taking offense."

The battle had been going well for the last few hours. Precision attacks from Astartes strike forces had weakened the Orks in this hive, and the rest of the Imperials were driving the aliens before them.

"Be cautious, Sisters," Agatha called out. "Enemy armor ahead, with infantry support."

Josephine peeked around a pile of scrap to see a pair of shoddy-looking tanks, with hundreds of Orks just behind. That was significantly more than the fifty Sororitas had been chasing mere moments ago.

"We will need additional firepower to bring down the tanks," Katarin said, raising her voice just loud enough to be heard by Agatha.

"Agreed," the Sister Superior said. "Our own armor is en route; until it arrives, we hold our ground!"

Josephine helped the rest of her squad build a makeshift barricade, then manned it just as one of the tanks fired. A shell screamed overhead and detonated behind her; Josephine winced when she heard a very human scream. This was her first campaign, and though casualties had been mercifully light, she was still getting used to women she'd grown up with dying in battle.

"Damn these xenos," Katarin growled; she returned fire, and was rewarded with another Ork losing his head. "They do not deserve to breathe our air, much less spill our blood!"

Josephine agreed, but the limited range of her flamer meant that she couldn't vent her fury like Katarin. Instead, she whispered prayers of vengeance, quietly urging reinforcements to arrive soon.

As if in answer to her prayers, an enormous las-beam cut through the air and obliterated one of the tanks in a ball of fire. Josephine whirled, and was nearly knocked off her feet when an Imperial Knight stormed through a hab-block, blaring its war-horn. Four smaller Knights followed in its wake; the two Warglaives swiftly pulled into range of the remaining tank and reduced it to a glowing puddle with their melta-weaponry, while the two Helverins raked the mobs of Orks with their autocannons.

"Greetings, honorable Sororitas," Horatio Lesk said through Iron Fidelity's vox. "We come to aid you in battle!"

Some of the younger Sisters cheered as the Knights laid waste to the Orks, Josephine included. She then followed Agatha in routing the remaining Orks, and torched a dozen with no small amount of righteous glee.

A few minutes after the sector was cleared, Josephine heard the rumble of engines, and saw squadrons of Castigators and Exorcists rolling down the street. The lead tank slewed to a stop by the regrouping infantry.

"We were told that you were under heavy assault," the gunner said as she stuck her head out of the hatch. "What happened?"

Josephine couldn't help but laugh.

…

Helmin could say with complete honesty that he had earned his rank. He had studied strategy and tactics, learned dueling with both pistol and sword, and even forced himself to attend a series of seminars taught by a well-meaning Administratum adept about logistics. He had waged many successful campaigns, and joining the Shepard Crusade had only added to his roll of honor. There were few people below his rank whom he felt outclassed him.

Sebastian Yarrick was one such individual.

Helmin was no stranger to fighting Orks, but Yarrick was the expert. Every strategy or resource-allocation he devised, the Old Man either came up with a better option, or simply improved what Helmin suggested. He wasn't jealous; rather, he was simply in awe.

"The bastions have been secured," Yarrick said, and tapped the hololithic map of Fendatha. "Our fleets have kept the xenos from landing additional forces, so it is up to us to keep the foe from making any footholds of their own. Their outriders will instinctively know where best to set up a fortress, and if they become too dug in, it will take more time, resources, and lives than we can afford to tear them out."

"Then we send our own fast-moving forces to hunt them down," Helmin offered. "The Seventh Deltic Scorpions have a great deal of airborne transports; they can counter the Ork scouts."

"A wise suggestion," Yarrick said, and Helmin tried not to preen at the praise. "As long as they do that, we can mount an assault on their initial landing site in the wastes. There is no need to waste blood on direct attacks, not yet; we can bombard the foe with artillery for… four days. Astartes strike forces can sweep aside the remaining Orks, and then we can purify the area with flamers, to prevent the greenskins' spores from spreading."

"I'll begin the deployments immediately." Helmin waved over an aide. "Have the First-Blooded redeploy to the southern wastes, and request a vox-link to High Commander Brol."

Yarrick glanced at him. "First-Blooded?"

"The first five regiments to fight alongside Saint Shepard," Helmin explained. "They are the most reliable soldiers I've ever had the honor of commanding."

"Reliability is key." Yarrick rubbed his chin absently. "The Orks do not generally use fear tactics, but they often break the will of inexperienced soldiers simply by charging. If the xenos break out of our encirclement, they might disappear before we can catch them."

"That won't happen," Helmin promised. "The First-Blooded have never failed before, and I doubt they plan on failing now."

Yarrick nodded. "And what about Saint Shepard? She has been rushing from one front to another. Will she join the final assault?"

"Perhaps, but I can make no promises. She is on a mission from the God-Emperor, and only He can change that mandate."

…

Shepard knelt in the ashes of what had once been someone's home. There was little left to suggest who they were, or what they were like. She saw the remains of two beds, which might have meant a family; she also found the charred pieces of a doll, which meant that there had been at least one child. Shepard hoped that they had escaped before their home had burned down, but she knew that the universe was rarely so kind.

Though she appeared to be paying her respects, she was actually here because of the wayfinder. A Custodian had kept it safe during planetfall, and once the sector had been secured, the courier was escorted by Shield-Captain Darius and nine other Custodes to Shepard's location.

"We're close," Shepard said, never taking her eyes off the slowly spinning feather. "I can almost feel it. The Warhawk is on the planet, or he will be soon."

Darius barely moved. "Our records show that Jaghatai Khan vanished sometime during the Scouring, pursuing Drukhari raiders that had attacked his home. He has not been seen in over ten thousand years."

"Similar things were said about Corax, Russ and Jonson," Shepard said as she rose to her feet. "Look what happened with them."

"I am not saying that I do not believe you, but it is strange that four Primarchs have reappeared in recent years, and we are looking for a fifth. Why now, after all this time?"

Shepard waved skyward, in the direction of the Great Rift. "As far as I'm aware, the galaxy hasn't been this messed up since the Age of Strife. It's been my experience that when things are at their worst, the best hopes start to show up."

"That is what you see the Primarchs as?" Darius asked. "Hope?"

"They can do things none of us can, and just four of them have started to make real change across the galaxy."

"Yes, and nine of them spat on their oaths to the Emperor." Darius' grip tightened around his sword. "I can never fully trust them, when so many turned traitor."

Shepard handed the wayfinder to its designated Custodian. "Honestly, I don't think you should trust them. The Horus Heresy proved that no one is infallible, and we could use some people to keep an eye on those with the most power." She smiled. "Still, I trust them, at least to do the right thing for the Imperium."

"As you say, Lady Shepard." Darius tensed. "Something is coming."

Shepard and the Alexian Guard readied themselves with remarkable swiftness, but compared to the Custodes, they might as well have been standing still. Darius managed to put himself between Shepard and a large mob of Orks, aim his sword, and fire a sustained burst of shells from the built-in guns in the hilt, all before Shepard had finished drawing her pistol.

The other Custodes were just as efficient, blunting the charging Orks with gunfire and countering with breathtaking speed and power. Their guardian spears lopped off heads and limbs, or pierced through armor and flesh; a few fired at point-blank range to tear the dead aliens off their blades, before spinning around to attack another. Shepard knew the Custodes were skilled, but seeing them like this made them realize just how good they were; each was a master in of his own personal style, but rather than get in each other's way, they complimented each other perfectly.

Still, Shepard didn't just stand and watch. A few Orks were still standing, and Shepard led the charge against them. One Ork lunged at her with a sparking power klaw, but Shepard leaned out of the way and smashed his knee with Liberator. Carolya finished the job by splitting the Ork's head down the middle with her power sword.

"I thought this sector was clear," Shepard said, as the fight ended.

"As did I." Darius shook blood from his shield. "These Orks were unusually large; it is unlikely they could have snuck past."

Shepard looked at one of the more intact corpses. It was a huge specimen, only smaller than some Warbosses she'd seen. "Good point. Something like this is weird. Let me call Yarrick."

To Shepard's surprise, the Old Man contacted her first. "Saint Shepard, we detected teleportation signatures in your area. I believe that the Orks have infiltrated behind our lines."

"You're, uh, a little late on the draw, sir." Shepard glanced at the steaming remains of the Orks. "We just fought a bunch of them, but they're dead. They were really big, though."

"Big, and using teleportation…" Yarrick trailed off. "Saint Shepard, can you see any identifying markers on the bodies? Anything shaped like a bull's head, and are the bodies particularly scarred?"

Shepard was about to look, but one of the Custodes was already checking. He nodded at her after a moment. "Yes to both."

"I see." Yarrick's voice was grim, but there was an undercurrent of excitement as well. "It seems that we have found more than just a lead to our quarry. Ghazghkull does not like to send his Skarboyz too far away. It's likely that this fleet is just the vanguard for the main force."

"Do we have enough ships for that?" Shepard had read about the Third War for Armageddon, and how the Imperium had been horribly outnumbered.

"We only need to hold the greenskins off long enough to board Ghazghkull's flagship and slay him. That will break his hold over his horde, and scatter them." Yarrick paused again. "When the High Marshal finishes the battle in space, we should consult with him."

"Agreed," Shepard said. "You two know this sector, and this campaign, better than we do. We're just here to help."

"And it is appreciated." Yarrick coughed before speaking. "Lord-Marshal Helmin is already sending the necessary orders to begin countering the teleport-assaults. We should be receiving reports on the void-war within the hour. If it is possible, would you and your advisors join me?"

"I'll try, but I still have my own mission," Shepard reluctantly said. "If I can't make it, just tell Helmin; he'll handle it."

"Understood. Yarrick out."

"I honestly hope we finish up here in time to help," Shepard said. "The last thing we need is to let Ghazghkull gain more power."

Carolya nodded. "I agree, Your Holiness; it is unacceptable that the Orks desecrate our worlds, and the Beast of Armageddon still needs to pay for destroying the temples on that planet."

Before the other Alexian Guard could comment, the Custodes holding the wayfinder caught Shepard's attention. "Lady Shepard, the artifact is reacting again."

Shepard took the wayfinder, and watched as the feather rotated faster and faster. "Something is happening. It's either getting closer, or getting stronger." Shepard nearly dropped the jar as the feather abruptly froze, pointing in one direction. "People, we have a lead! Let's go!"

…

Dartan watched with no small amount of satisfaction as the Tyranid bio-ships burned in the void. After the battle throughout the Argris system, most of the ships within the Shepard Crusade had experience fighting the Tyranids, and put that to good use. There was some damage among the fleet, and a light cruiser had been boarded after getting too close, but teams of Deltic Scorpions and Sororitas were already purging the vessel of Genestealers, and the damage was contained.

It had been somewhat amusing to watch the Orks fight the Tyranids as hard as they'd been fighting the Imperial ships. Between the greenskins' reckless onslaught and the humans' methodical eradication of their bio-ships, the Tyranids had been destroyed in a matter of hours. The Orks, however, were another matter; for every ship destroyed, another managed to send a few thousand troops to the surface of Fendatha, and more were tumbling out of the Warp every hour. Dartan estimated that the combined fleets would be overwhelmed in two more days, if this kept up, assuming nothing unexpected happened.

"Sir!" His sensor-officer looked up at him fearfully. "There's another ship entering realspace. It's massive, like nothing I've ever seen before!"

Dartan tapped a key on his command throne to bring up the sensor-echo of the incoming ship. Calling it massive didn't do it justice; it was more like a small planetoid that was being semi-directed. While his bridge officers might not have recognized it for what it was, Dartan did, and he immediately began issuing orders.

"All ships, alert status extremis! Fall back one thousand kilometers, and train every weapon we have on the arrival point; fire torpedoes now, and hopefully we'll do some early damage. Contact the Black Templars and tell them to do the same!"

"Sir! Vox-hail from the Eternal Crusader!"

"Put it through." Dartan waited until his vox-officer nodded. "High Marshal, I assume you know what's coming?"

"I do," Helbrecht said. "A Space Hulk is not easily forgotten, especially this one. It is the unholy steed of the Beast; I have faced it in battle once, and seen twice since then. Its firepower matches a small fleet by itself, and it is never unaccompanied. I concur with your strategy, and will implement it among my ships. Fight well, High Admiral."

"You as well, High Marshal. Ave Imperator." Dartan turned to his bridge officers. "Time to torpedo impact?"

"Three minutes, sir!"

"Then have our fleet redeploy to target the hulk's port side; we'll do as much damage as we can, and then redirect our firepower towards the supporting ships." Dartan glared at the image of the Space Hulk on his tactical display, as if its very existence offended him. "Damn xenos. You will not stop Saint Shepard!"

…

Phoros watched as hundreds of Guardsmen retreated behind the Lamenters; a surprise attack had decimated an entire brigade, and the survivors were making their way back to friendlier territory. It had almost been a rout, but the arrival of three companies of Space Marines—and a commissar's example of the cost of cowardice—had helped the soldiers retreat in good order.

"The Orks' numbers are considerable," an Incursor sergeant continued reporting. "They arrived via teleportation five hours ago, and have rampaged throughout the Militarum lines in this sector."

"We need to reorganize," Phoros said, mostly to himself. "These tactics will throw our strategies into disarray." He caught the attention of his Chapter's Third Company captain, a Primaris Marine named Nassien Arteth. "Captain, you have operational command until I return; I will see if our Mechanicus friends are able to track the source of these teleport strikes."

Arteth bowed his head. "By your command, my Lord."

Phoros watched as Arteth turned and rocketed into the air. During the resupply on Vigilus, the Space Marines had received new equipment, including jump packs that were compatible with Tacticus armor. They were larger than their Firstborn counterparts, consisting of a large primary thruster, and two smaller modules on the sides. They had been eagerly incorporated by the Lamenters, and distributed among the Assault Intercessors, as well as any officers who wanted them. Phoros himself was training to use the new jump pack; when he wasn't practicing with it, he used what little spare time he had to decorate it with the artificer's skill all sons of Sanguinius had.

"Archmagos Xem-Beta, do you read me?" he said into his vox.

"Acknowledgment, Chapter Master," Xem-Beta replied immediately. "Are you in need of assistance?"

"Not in the arena of combat; rather, this is about the Orks' use of teleportation technology."

"Understood. You wish to track the xenos technology and disable it?"

"If it is at all possible; this war will be easier if we do not have to worry about Orks teleporting behind our lines."

"We will attempt to discover the source of the teleportation," Xem-Beta said. "If we are successful, we will assist you in destroying the xenos technology."

"You have my thanks." Phoros paused when he heard an explosion in the distance, and the rapidly-approaching roar of Ork engines. "Excuse me, Archmagos, but I have some Orks to kill."

…

"Okay, this is annoying." Shepard looked at where the wayfinder was pointing, and then gently shook the jar. "This thing better not be broken."

"Perhaps there is something we are not seeing," Darius suggested.

Shepard sighed, then glared at the empty patch of ground. "Yeah, probably. I just didn't feel like digging a hole today."

"Then it is a good thing that you have an entire Crusade from which to draw upon."

"Ah, yes." Shepard nodded sagely. "One of the perks of being in command—making other shmucks do the grunt work."

"Shall I call for a Militarum regiment, Your Holiness?" Carolya asked.

"Yes, but make sure it's one of the First-Blooded; I want people I trust most to handle this."

"It shall be done."

Shepard returned her attention to the ground that might have once been a park for the rich of the hive, or created by some citizens who wanted a bit of nature in their industrialized lives. "What could be buried down there that's so important?"

Darius merely shrugged. "I do not doubt the Emperor, but I do not believe that He would send us here just to dig up a corpse."

Shepard made a face. "Thanks, that's totally something I want to think about."

With his helm on, it was difficult to tell, but Shepard was positive that Darius was smirking at her. The possible humor lasted only for a moment, and then Darius raised his sword.

"More Orks, coming from all sides."

Shepard twirled Liberator in one hand. "Carolya, tell our guys to hurry it up!"

…

Somehow, word had spread among the Orks that the Adeptus Custodes—or 'da gold-boyz', as the Orks called them—would provide the biggest fight. Once a few Orks saw the Custodes, it was like a magnet for more, and thousands of them were soon rampaging through the lower levels of the hive, looking for a fight.

The cramped corridors of that level meant that the Guard couldn't set up a proper line of battle to defend Shepard while she worked. Instead, the Eleventh Vigilant Guard and the tanks of the Cadian One-Thousand-Twenty-Second Armored became mobile barricades. While they became the rock the green tide threw itself against, the Duranian Rangers volunteered to be the labor Shepard needed to unearth the prize.

The Guard didn't fight alone; the Reapers sent five companies to reinforce them, and the Necropolis Hawks added a score of aircraft to assist. The added firepower was more than enough to drive the Orks back, though with so many more aliens on their way, there was no way to know how long it would last.

"How are we looking?" Shepard asked after several hours.

A Duranian captain saluted. "Your Holiness, we've made contact with something, but there's still a lot of dirt and debris in the way. It's going to take another day, maybe two, before we know what it is."

"Good man." Shepard was glad her helm hid her grimace when the captain beamed from such simple praise. "Hey, where's Hiral? He was around here last time I checked, but now I can't find him."

"I believe he said he was going to stay with the Eleventh to help boost morale, Your Holiness."

"Thanks." Shepard manifested her wings and took off, the Alexian Guard right behind her. "Keep up the good work; the sooner we're done here, the sooner the Orks will stop breathing down our necks."

"Of course, Your Holiness."

It didn't take long for Shepard to find her banner-bearer; not only was he standing on top of a Chimera for all to see, but the Orks had yet to field any aerial units to pester Shepard on her way there.

"Hey, kid," Shepard said as she landed next to Hiral. "How're our guys holding up?"

Hiral saluted sharply. "Losses have been minimal, Your Holiness. The Orks keep teleporting in, but they're not coordinated, and just popping up at random. Any heavier units are handled by the Reapers."

Shepard grinned. "That's what I like to hear. Still, did we have any problems at all?"

"We had an equipment malfunction earlier," Hiral said with a scowl. "I was with another platoon an hour ago, and half the lasguns just stopped working; they were all new, from our last stop at Vigilus. We called in a Tech-Priest, and she said the machine spirits hadn't been properly appeased when they'd been delivered."

Shepard barely managed not to let her frustration show; it wasn't just that the idea of machine spirits slowed production and advancement to a fraction of what it could be, it was that it seemed to hold water that nearly drove her to pulling out her hair.

"Did we lose people in that skirmish?"

"Nine, and another twelve were seriously wounded." Hiral absently tapped the pole of the Shepard banner. "The Tech-Priest said that she'd have a good batch of lasguns moved in to replace the others, and those would get blessed."

"Right." The sound of roaring Orks cut off further conversation. "Look alive, people! Break time's over!"

…

Zandtus waited with all the patience of a son of Corax, until the Orks below were in the perfect position. "Now!"

From above the greenskin column, Necropolis Hawks opened fire, just as the front and rear tanks were caught in a massive explosion. Trapped by burning wreckage in front and behind, the Orks were packed together, and shredded by the rain of bolts from above. The barrage only lasted for a few minutes, and then the Necropolis Hawks ceased fire; the Orks had only a moment to be confused, and then they were attacked from both sides as dozens of Black Templars charged from the flanks. Leading them was a Chaplain in even more ornate armor than others of his brotherhood; a skeletal hand, holding a broken power sword, was mounted atop his power pack, and he was accompanied by three servitors, each holding a precious relic.

"Knights of Dorn!" Reclusiarch Grimaldus shouted, his voice audible even without a vox. "Sons of the Emperor! Charge!"

Zandtus watched as the Chaplain, known as the Hero of Helsreach, carved a bloody swathe through the Orks. The Black Templars' zeal was impressive, and their courage was undeniable, but he held the smallest bit of contempt for their tactics. True, they were as tactically adept as any Astartes, but the Templars seemed to relish in close-quarters fighting. Zandtus, on the other hand, believed that such combat should be an element of a battle, not a main method. Staying at range kept a unit more tactically flexible, and was less risky than a swirling melee. That wasn't to say that the Necropolis Hawks shied away from hand-to-hand fighting, but getting tied down was dangerous for mobile forces like Astartes, especially in urban warfare.

Despite his reservations, the Black Templars finished their part of the attack in minutes, and the Orks were left burning in the street. Zandtus led his brothers down to the Templars; he wanted to speak to Grimaldus while the two Chapters regrouped.

"Hail, Reclusiarch," he called out. "Another convoy is destroyed."

Grimaldus nodded. "This is the third such group we have intercepted, and all have been heading for Saint Shepard's location."

"I doubt they know that she has discovered something," Zandtus mused. "More likely, they sense that they will get a good fight there."

"And even if they do know she has something important, they will want it only for the sake of having it," Grimaldus added. "They are driven by a compulsive need to take anything they do not already possess. Fortunately, it draws them out, leaving them exposed to our attacks."

Zandtus nodded. "It seems that there is a lull in the fighting. I suggest we use that time to set up more ambush points, and to stock up on supplies."

"I agree; the battle will not begin in earnest until the Orks successfully deploy more of their forces, and our combined fleets are slowing their progress significantly." Grimaldus tilted his head back to stare at the smoke-wreathed sky. "This hive… it reminds me of Helsreach."

Zandtus raised an eyebrow behind his helm. "How so?"

Grimaldus chuckled, but there was no humor in it. "I am in a filthy city, constantly fighting Orks, while my liege battles in the void in an attempt to stop the leader of our enemies. I only hope that this battle ends differently than it did at Helsreach."

"You won at Helsreach, did you not?"

"I did, but I was the only survivor among my brothers." Grimaldus turned to fully face the Chapter Master. "I would prefer to have a different end to this tale."

"Considering that would mean that my own brothers and I would likely die as well, I second that," Zandtus half-joked.

Grimaldus laughed again, then gestured down the road with his crozius. "Would you walk with me, Chapter Master? I have questions that you might answer."

"Of course." Despite the area being nominally secure, Zandtus never relaxed his grip on his bolt rifle. "What would you wish to know, Reclusiarch?"

"My brothers and I have been on crusade in the Octarius sector for years," Grimaldus said as they walked. "It has cut us off from much in the Imperium, save for rumors and hearsay. Is it true that Saint Shepard brought three Primarchs back into the Imperium's light?"

"It is true," Zandtus confirmed. "Lords Russ and Jonson, as well as my own gene-father, Lord Corax. Here, on Fendatha, we are searching for clues that would lead us to another Primarch—Jaghatai Khan, of the White Scars."

Grimaldus was silent for a moment. "Incredible. And Saint Shepard is capable of not only banishing the forces of Chaos, but utterly destroying them?"

"Ah, yes. She purified a lieutenant from my own Chapter several years ago, before corruption could overtake him." Zandtus smiled at the memory. "She was also able to lift a curse from the entire Lamenters Chapter that had been plaguing them for millennia."

"Yes, the… Lamenters." Grimaldus' awe and what might have been good cheer abruptly vanished. "You are aware of their history, yes? They betrayed the Imperium and became renegades."

"A sin for which they have paid dearly," Zandtus said, immediately coming to the defense of his fellow Space Marines. "They have been absolved of their crimes, and have devoted themselves completely to the protection of the Imperium, and the destruction of its enemies."

"We shall see. I warn you, Chapter Master, that the stain of betrayal is not so easily washed away—not by the betrayers, and not by those who remember the betrayal. It is a stain that can spread to all those nearby; I advise you to be cautious."

"I swear to you, Reclusiarch, that if the Lamenters spit on their oaths again, I will personally cut them down." For all that he considered Phoros a true friend, Zandtus knew that the Imperium could not overlook another Space Marine Chapter going rogue. If the Lamenters turned again, they would not get another chance.

"That is good to hear." Grimaldus paused and pointed. "Did you see that?"

"You mean the Ork waiting in the shadows with a grenade? Yes, as well as the three others on the other side of the street."

Grimaldus adjusted the manacle that kept his crozius chained to his wrist. "Then let us go hunting."

…

As the excavation continued, more Orks were drawn to Shepard's location. In response, more Imperial forces were redeployed to defend her. All five First-Blooded regiments were present, along with two Preceptories of the Order of the Iron Tears, a company of Necropolis Hawks, a Mechanicus detachment, and nearly a hundred Black Templars.

Shepard herself rarely fought during the many assaults the Imperium drove off. The will of the Emperor was pulling at her, urging her to stay with the excavation; it made her anxious, and every minute of inactivity only made it worse.

At least she knew what it was they were digging up. It had been fairly obvious, as the gentle archways were uncovered and alien gems glittered in the darkness.

"Why the hell is there a Webway gate here?" Shepard asked; even from a distance, she could see Guardsmen make warding gestures whenever they got close to the alien structure.

Nearby, Zhu Telok hummed, though Shepard wasn't sure if that was from his voice, or from one of his machine parts. "This world was colonized thousands of years ago, but the Aeldari have existed for many millions of years. It is not uncommon to find evidence of their civilization below what we have built."

"Still, I'm kinda surprised no one found it before."

Telok shrugged, and the motion made his hovering body wobble. "The Aeldari are frustratingly adept at remaining hidden if they wish."

"That doesn't mean I have to like it." Shepard had a flash of irrational anger; the last time she'd felt like that had been when she'd found out that the Asari Matriarchs had been hiding a secret cache of Prothean technology inside a sacred temple.

Even the arrival of the Reapers hadn't convinced them to share such knowledge. Shepard didn't know if the Asari leadership had suffered any consequences, but she hoped so.

Shepard shook away those thoughts; between that unpleasant memory and her own powers stoking her anger, her self-control was dangerously frayed. She looked for anything that might soothe her temper, and after a few moments of looking, she found it.

"Let me know when the gate is fully uncovered," she said. "I'm going to take a walk."

Telok bowed his head. "It shall be done."

Shepard barely heard him as she homed in on her targets; Hiral and Rychelle may have been trying to look professional, but the nearby squads of Battle Sisters and Guardsmen from the Eleventh had knowing smirks.

"You two are adorable, you know that?" Shepard grinned when her words made the couple jump apart. "No, please, don't stop on my account. Your awkward attempts at romance make my day."

Rychelle tried and failed to stop her face from reddening. "With all due respect, Your Holiness, Hiral is not awkward. Just before we came to this world, when we were in bed, he—"

Hiral lunged and put his hand over her mouth. "She doesn't need to know that!"

Shepard, meanwhile, had nearly fallen to her knees from laughter, and it took her several minutes to regain even a modicum of composure. "Pfft! Ha! Oh, wow, that… I was not expecting that. I don't think I've laughed that hard in years. Thanks for that."

Rychelle shared a glance with Hiral. "You… are welcome, Your Holiness?"

"Was there something you actually needed?" Hiral pleaded.

Shepard waved him off. "Nah, just thought I'd find a way to improve my mood, and I definitely—"

Everything happened in an instant. Shepard saw the glint in the distance, and almost seventy years of instincts propelled her into motion. She threw herself between Rychelle and the sniper shot; her shoulder exploded in a fountain of blood, bone and armor fragments, and her arm fell to the ground a moment before the rest of her did.

"Sniper!" Shepard managed to gasp out.

Hiral covered the wounded Saint with his own body; at almost the same time, Darius literally shoved a Chimera out of his way to cover them both with his shield, followed by the Alexian Guard.

"Thirtieth level, on the northeast spire," Darius said; his enhanced mind had already calculated exactly where the shot had come from. "Two hundred and eighty-nine meters away."

Half the Alexian Guard was dispatched to pursue the sniper, along with two squads of Inceptors from the Reapers and a squad of Seraphim. Four more shots were fired before the sniper was cornered; two Seraphim were killed, and an Inceptor was wounded by the time the chase came to an end.

When Shepard heard about the casualties, she was stunned. For an Ork sniper—which did apparently exist, though they were extraordinarily rare—to do so much damage was unusual. What was delivered to her feet, however, was no Ork; instead, it was a Chaos Space Marine, his blue-green armor covered in scales that looked partially organic.

"Alpha Legion," Darius identified. "One of the Traitor Legions. They specialized in sabotage, infiltration and assassination."

"I gathered that from the sniper round." Shepard winced as she rotated her regenerated arm in its socket. "That really hurt. No offense to you, Rychelle, but why did he go after you, and not me?"

"He likely knew that you were not so easily killed," Darius said. "And he was not aiming for the Palatine. Rather, he was attempting to shoot through her, and kill the standard-bearer. Such a blow would have damaged morale across the Crusade."

"Yeah, well, it failed." Shepard grimaced and kicked the dead Alpha Legionnaire. "Word's gonna spread that someone tried an assassination run, let's let everyone think it was against me. That'll make our people mad, and they'll fight all the harder."

Rychelle bowed her head. "As you say, Your Holiness, but I beg you to return to our field chapel, if only to get your armor repaired while we strengthen security."

Shepard was about to reluctantly agree, but a nudge from the Emperor made her shake her head. "No, I'll be fine. Just wait a second."

Her eyes glowed gold, and then the same light haloed her entire body; the shattered fragments of her armor flew towards her, then fitted around her, as if time was reversed. After a moment, the light faded, and Shepard's armor looked as if it had never been damaged.

"The Emperor needs me to stay here," Shepard said, and forced herself not to react when several Guardsmen and Sororitas had outright prostrated themselves upon seeing this 'miracle'. "He's given me more power to make sure I don't have to leave."

Rychelle bowed her head. "As you will, Your Holiness. Is there anything else you require?"

Shepard smiled. "No, I'm fine. Do what you have to do."

With the danger passed, the Imperial forces returned to their duties. Shepard pretended to adjust her gauntlets, but actually kept one eye on Rychelle; she smiled when the palatine embraced Hiral when she thought no one was looking. The assassination attempt had given them all a good scare, and those two needed each other.

Shepard was struck by a memory of Gregor; shortly before the final battle to kill Henrietta von Carstein, her army had been part of a larger war to destroy an Orc invasion, during which, she'd almost been skewered by a primitive bolt thrower. Gregor had seen it happen, and after the battle, had refused to let go of her hand for hours. He hadn't talked about it, and didn't seem worried at all, but Shepard knew how badly even the threat of losing a loved one could shake someone.

She just hoped that Rychelle and Hiral never went through the same pain she did.

…

Dartan scowled, even as the Vehemence claimed another kill. As far as he was concerned, the fleets could destroy the lesser Ork ships all day long; it didn't matter, so long as the Space Hulk remained intact. The monstrosity had taken bombing runs, lance strikes, and massed torpedo volleys, and while huge chunks were blown away, the hulk was so massive that it could handle whatever was thrown at it.

"High Admiral, the Black Templars are asking for reinforcement for their escort screen," the vox-officer reported.

"We can't afford to spare any ships right now," Dartan growled. "Damn it all, order our fleet to fall back one hundred thousand kilometers. We can use the moon to protect our flanks; tell the High Marshal that we're redirecting our efforts to destroying the enemy escorts and preventing more landings. If we're successful, we'll divert those ships."

While he was no Tech-Priest, Dartan had spent most of his life aboard the Vehemence, and knew when she was reaching her limit. Almost three days of constant fighting had nearly brought her to that point; her engines had started to sputter, when once they'd roared, and her weapons needed more time between volleys, as the Tech-Priests tried to uphold their maintenance rituals. He didn't need the fleet's captains to let him know that their ships weren't much better.

"Sir! More ships are arriving in-system!" The sensor-officer rubbed her eyes, as if she didn't believe what she was reading. "They're not Orks!"

Dartan dared to hope that the news was good. "Imperial reinforcements?"

"No, sir—traitor warships! Most have been identified as renegade Astartes vessels, but… oh, merciful God-Emperor…" The terror in the officer's voice drew the entire bridge crew's attention. "It's a Gloriana-class."

Dartan felt sweat drip down his neck. "Can we identify it?"

The officer swallowed nervously. "One moment, sir… it's the Conqueror."

That sent a jolt of terror through Dartan's soul. The Conqueror was the flagship of the World Eaters Legion, a ship nearly as violent as its master, the Primarch Angron. For a terrifying moment, he wondered if that embodiment of hate and violence was aboard his old ship.

"Where…" Dartan licked his dry lips and tried again. "What's their heading?"

"It looks like they're heading for the closest ships… oh, thank the Emperor, they're attacking the Orks."

"Good. That's… good. That will buy us some time." Dartan turned to his vox-officer. "Get me Helbrecht."

A moment later, the High Marshal's voice filled his ear. "High Admiral, I assume you are contacting me about the traitor forces?"

"Yes, High Marshal; they should be engaging the Orks in under an hour. We can use this time to reorganize our defenses, and deploy reserves to the surface."

"You believe that is necessary?"

"I do. We simply lack the ships to hold back the Orks, not to mention the heretics. Our best option is to do as much damage as possible to their landing craft, and harry their capital ships, to keep them from bombarding the planet."

"I must agree." Despite the situation, Dartan had to bite back a chuckle at Helbrecht's reluctance. It sounded almost petulant. "I had hoped to board the enemy flagship and cut out the foe's heart, but that is not possible. I will deploy alongside my brothers to Fendatha, and we will make our stand there. You, High Admiral, will command the combined fleets."

Dartan was surprised. "I am honored, High Marshal, but surely there are others among your fleet that can take your place?"

"Perhaps, but you have impressed me these last few days; now is your chance to prove that you can do it again."

"Many thanks, High Marshal; may the God-Emperor grant you victory on the surface."

"And may He grant you glory in the void. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have two thousand Black Templars that must be readied for planetfall."

Dartan nodded as the connection ended. A moment later, he sat up straight in his command throne. "How many Astartes did he say he was taking down to Fendatha!?"

One of his officers rubbed his eyes. "I think the Black Templars already had more than a thousand on the surface."

"Just how big is that Chapter?"

…

Shepard watched as hundreds of Orks were blasted apart—first by the artillery of the Fiftieth Hecheron, and then by thousands of bolter shells, courtesy of the Reapers. Part of her wished that she was on the front lines, but after her near-death at the hands of that sniper, her soldiers all but ordered her to stay back. Shepard had protested, but it had been Darius who had finally convinced her.

"You are more than this Crusade's leader," he had said. "You are its talisman, an icon to both follow and protect. Right now, your warriors are shaken by your near-death, and cannot fight at their best while worried for you. In time, they will be comfortable fighting alongside you again, but for now, allow them to reassure themselves that they can protect you."

Shepard had, rather petulantly, decided not to address Darius, and only spoke to him when she absolutely had to. She was tired of letting others fight for her, especially when she was fully capable of joining her people in battle. In order to do something productive, she oversaw the excavation of the Webway gate; at her urging, the soldiers' efforts were doubled. It also helped that their work muffled the sound of battle, or at least made it seem further away, which made the working soldiers less tense.

"How much longer, do you think?" Shepard asked Telok, who then detached his mechadendrites from a servo-skull.

"At our current pace, I estimate that the entire structure will be uncovered in three-point-two hours," he said. "Several maniples of Skitarii will be arriving to reinforce us; I can safely add enough of them to the work details without compromising our perimeter. Should I do so, it will cut our remaining time to one hour and eleven minutes."

"Do it," Shepard said. "The sooner we're done here, the sooner we can stop being a target for the Orks."

Telok nodded, and his whole body bobbed in midair. "May I ask a question, Saint Shepard?"

"You just did." Shepard sighed when Telok didn't respond to the old joke. "What is it?"

"Once we are done with our task here, what is to be done with the gateway?" Telok wheezed, and Shepard realized he'd sighed. "Standard doctrine demands that we destroy the xenos technology, but this discovery is remarkably intact, and could provide priceless insight."

Shepard thought about it; the Mechanicus of Stygies VIII were more open-minded when it came to alien technology—at least, the study of it. Still, she knew that the rest of the Imperium—especially the wider Mechanicus—would immediately drop the hammer on Stygies if they found out just how interested they were in alien artifacts.

"Take scans and samples once we're done," she said quietly. "Then set charges and blow the thing to pieces. If anyone asks, you're looking for weaknesses in potential enemy resources."

"That is our standard response," Telok said, and Shepard couldn't tell if he was joking or not. "Thank you for this opportunity, Saint Shepard."

"Just don't make a big deal about it." The sound of approaching engines caught her attention. "That's not your guys, is it?"

Telok paused. "Negative. Those engine-voices are Militarum-pattern, but their signatures do not belong to any forces within the Shepard Crusade."

"No one told me about extra reinforcements." Shepard headed for the source of the noise, joined by the Alexian Guard, along with Darius and a handful of Custodes. "Keep up the good work, I'll see what this is about."

To Shepard's surprise, it was Commissar Yarrick, aboard his Baneblade, and accompanied by most of the forces she'd last seen him with. Many of the Chimeras and Tauroxes showed signs of battle, and more than a few of the soldiers climbing out of them were wounded.

"Saint Shepard," Yarrick hailed as he exited the Fortress of Arrogance. "I had heard that your position had become quite the strongpoint. Allow us to reinforce you."

"I'll always welcome extra guns, Commissar," Shepard said with a bright smile. "Looks like you saw some action."

"We were clearing out some of the greenskins before they could become properly dug in," Yarrick explained. "We were doing well, but Thraka is becoming fond of teleporting in reinforcements of his own. We fought them off, but they took their pound of flesh before that."

"If you need supplies or extra medics, we've got plenty to spare," Shepard offered.

"I accept both gladly; in exchange, I will stand with you for as long as you require." Yarrick paused when he saw another column of vehicles, this time of Mechanicus origin, come into view. "Though I suppose you may not need us after all."

Shepard put her hand on the Old Man's shoulder. "I'll never say no to more friends. Come on, let's find a place for you and your troops before the Orks get here."

…

"You have to wonder how he's still alive," Klinner said, half to herself as she reloaded her pistol.

"Who?" Commissar Yuin asked. "Yarrick?"

"Yes, him." Klinner whispered a quick prayer to her bolt pistol before holstering it. "If even half the stories about him are true, he's survived things not even a Space Marine could."

Yuin's hand drifted to his bionic eye, similar to Yarrick's, but with a green lens. "I imagine that it is a combination of faith in the God-Emperor, and sheer spite. He may simply refuse to die before his foe."

"Well, he's a good example to us all," Klinner half-joked. "If that kind of hate can keep him alive when facing the worst of the Orks, it'll make the rest of us honest-to-Terra heroes."

"Indeed." Yuin caught Yarrick's eye, and the two men saluted; they were so similar that one could be forgiven for mistaking them for siblings, but while the latter was fiery rhetoric and military genius, the former was all about efficiency behind the scenes, only fighting when he was called upon.

"Colonel!" Klinner tensed when one of her soldiers ran up to her. "Colonel, more Orks heading for our location!"

"Why wasn't I informed over the vox?" she asked.

The guardsman shrugged helplessly. "There's so much vox-traffic that we risk contacting the wrong unit by mistake. You were close enough that using a messenger was more effective."

Klinner sighed, but there was nothing she could do about problems with the vox. "Very well, I'll get us reorganized to meet this offensive. Commissar, if you'll join me?"

Yuin saluted with his power sword. "Of course, Colonel; I have not killed nearly enough Orks today."

"Before you go charging in, help me get the troops ready for the next wave." Klinner turned on her heel and headed for her Chimera, where her command squad was waiting. "Join us when you feel they're properly motivated."

Yuin spared a moment to nod, and then made his way to the nearest platoon. "Soldiers! On your feet!"

The guardsmen went from relaxing in the shadows of their transports to standing at attention in an instant. Yuin wouldn't have shown it, even with what was left of his face, but he noted that each man and woman kept their equipment as pristine as battlefield regulations permitted, and approved.

"Soldiers of the Eleventh Vigilant Guard," he continued, "the enemy is approaching. You know how to fight Orks; you've beaten them before, and you can do it again. Fight like the God-Emperor Himself is watching, because He is! You fight alongside His angels, the Adeptus Astartes, His own bodyguards, and His own Saint! Duty, honor and faith all demand that you fight at your very best! You will fight and win, or you will face me, and believe me, the pathetic xenos are nothing compared to my fury."

The lieutenant in charge of the platoon saluted. "Sir, for Saint Shepard and the God-Emperor, we'll send those alien bastards back to the hell they spawned from."

Yuin nodded. "Bold words. Now, show me you can back them up."

"Yes, sir!" The lieutenant turned to his soldiers. "Mount up and man those lasgun arrays! I want every single gun we have ready to greet these ugly freaks!"

The Eleventh were ready just in time to meet the latest Ork attack. Still, even Yuin was surprised by what was actually charging towards them. Instead of massed infantry assaults or a horde of ramshackle vehicles, it was a confused charge of half-mechanical Orks riding enormous Squigs; clattering behind them were huge trailer-like vehicles, swarming with burly Orks and pulled by even bigger Squig-variants.

Yuin had heard about the so-called 'Beast Snaggas' before, but had never fought them. They were a sub-culture of the Orks—smaller in number, but bigger and stronger than the average member of the species. Their technology was primitive, even by their standards, but Yuin saw one holding what looked like a rocket attached to a spear, and had no desire to be impaled by something like that.

"Open fire!" he shouted.

Lasguns hissed and heavy bolters roared; a few of the Orks were pitched from their saddles, but, quite worryingly, most barreled through the fusillade. Yuin tensed as the Orks came closer and closer; he almost smiled in approval when, despite the danger, the guardsmen never faltered in their fire discipline. The three Chimeras and two Tauroxes were thrown into reverse and attempted to avoid the impact of the charge.

Fortunately for the Militarum forces, they didn't need to. Mere seconds before the Orks hit their line, the Reapers arrived in spectacularly violent fashion. Inceptors unleashed a hail of bolts as they fell from the sky, followed by Impactors, a new Gravis-armored unit recently introduced to the Primaris arsenal. They were similar to Aggressors, albeit with massive jump packs, and high-explosive launchers mounted to their power fists; instead of impact-softening extensions on their feet, like the Inceptors, the Impactors had claw-shaped kinetic redirectors around their legs, which collected the energy of a falling Astartes and unleashed it outward upon arrival from a high enough altitude.

The shockwaves from the Impactors finally broke the impetus of the Ork charge, and as more Reapers arrived on foot, they and the Militarum forces slaughtered them after a few hectic minutes of combat.

"Many thanks, Astartes," Yuin called out. "Dealing with that many Orks would have been… challenging."

The commanding officer of the Reapers, a lieutenant in hulking Gravis armor, stomped forward. He carried a heavy bolter in his hands, and his armor was covered in small weapons-impacts.

"This sector is stretched thin," the lieutenant said, his voice distorted and menacing from within his helm. "We detected the Ork assault and came as quickly as possible."

Yuin nodded; he appreciated the Reapers' no-nonsense style of discourse during a combat zone. "Now we must hold out again, as many times as we must, until Saint Shepard completes her mission."

As if the universe heard him, there was an earsplitting shriek of arcane machinery. Guardsmen and Space Marine alike whirled, weapons at the ready, and saw a swirling vortex of energy, suspended between the arches of the Webway gate. Even from this distance, the energy made Yuin's teeth itch, and more than one guardsman made warding gestures.

"Perhaps our mission will be over sooner than expected," the Reaper said.

"Just because it happens fast does not mean it will be easy." Yuin glanced up at the sky; he could see the fiery contrails of drop pods raining down on Fendatha, and a part of him wondered if some of them weren't holding loyal Astartes. "In fact, things might get… difficult."

Finally! This chapter was a pain to write, and not just because I had a bad case of writer's block. One of my two jobs involve retail, so I had a 4-day Black Friday sale to deal with, and it sucked. I was so burned out that just looking at my computer made me want to cry.

Anyway, lots of action across Fendatha, along with appearances by old friends and badass Black Templars. Once I got over my writer's block, almost every scene was just fun to write. Oh, and those Impactors were another unit I made up, because I enjoy making up new Primaris units. The idea of weaponizing kinetic energy and unleashing it as a bomb just struck me as really cool, so, yeah—boom, followed by Space Marines carrying more boom.

Also, Commissar Yuin made a brief appearance in the war for Commorragh, so I thought I'd bring him in again. And Josephine and Katarin, because they were fun to write last chapter.

Oh, and Khârn is here. And Ghazghkull. And Yarrick. And Helbrecht and Grimaldus. And Shepard. Holy shit, this warzone has become a locus of very angry people.

As always, please consider buying my book, Alpha Sanction, by Josh Gottlieb. You can find it on my website as a PDF (link in my profile), or on Amazon as an eBook or physical copy. We're nearing the holidays, so maybe you can give it to a friend or loved one as a gift. I don't know, just a thought.

If that's not an option, you could always donate on my P-atreon page (link in my profile). Your donations help keep my sanity intact, and give me the drive to write more, because I hate disappointing people and crave approval, especially from those who are kind enough to give me money.

Speaking of those people, I'd like to thank them now:

Serious Muffins: Nimrod009, Anders Lyngbye, Matthias Matanovic, John Collins, Red Bard, Aaron Meek, killroy225, Lokthar

Incredible Muffins: RaptorusMaximus, michaelb958, Crazyman844, Ben Stueckle

Ultra Muffins: RangersRoll, Adam Costello

Next Chapter: Enemies clash, heroes stand, and legend returns…

Fear Muffins, but follow!