A/N: Bigger chapter today, hurrah! It was a blast to write, so I hope you enjoy.
No more delaying! Let's go, go go!
Book Two: Corruption's End
Chapter 15: Purge the Unclean
"Never get between the Lady Inquisitor and her prey. Never get between Trooper Yang and a good fight." Cognomen-Designate "Amat", Assassin of the Holiest Vindicare Temple
The cultists broke after an hour of sustained fighting. They were untrained, and despite a wealth of Imperial-grade arms, they crumpled under the weight of the woadian assault. They broke and fled, where the rangers were too glad to cut them down. The ease of it all unnerved Yang, but besides suffering a massive migraine for a few minutes, clean-up proved to be uneventful. Until the shelling started.
"Do you guys… hear whistling?" Caolin asked, glancing at Ros and Yang from his vigil at a window. Ros shrugged, but Yang's stomach plummeted, her aura screaming 'danger!'.
"GET DOWN!" She bellowed, throwing herself on top of them, wrapping up the stocky woadians in her arms. The roof imploded, and the world was a shock of pain and white noise. Screaming was the first thing she heard above the pounding whine that rang in her ears. A section of wall had fallen on top of them, a pressing weight that pinned them to the floor. Channeling her aura into her arms, Yang shrugged off the rockcrete, pushing it to the side as she stood.
"Are you ok?!" She demanded. They didn't reply, heads lolling and rolling from the sudden strike. Jorvis was screaming something, but she couldn't be sure what it was. Mael did his best to stay collected, crawling across the floor to collect his weaponry. A piece of wall had crushed a wodian's head, scattering brains on the floor around them.
The second shell slammed into the sand, shooting grey clouds into the air, and railing the walls with shrapnel. Caolin and Ros clutched each other, pressing their heads into the bloodstained floor. Around them, the walls wavered and shook under the barrage.
"Get out of here!" They looked at her blankly, rocking back and forth as their hands clenched tight against their ears. She pointed at the walls, which were now splitting apart as more shells landed in the city. "It's coming down!" She cried. Heaving her friends over her shoulder, she made to leave, before another salvo crashed into the city. The noise was tremendous, earth-shattering crashes of gut-punching bass. Yang had never quite heard anything like it.
A chunk of rubble pierced Svyr. He wailed, the offending shrapnel protruding from underneath the rim of his flak armor. Wrapping her fist up in his collar, she dragged him away from their crumbling cover.
Jorvis followed her example, pushing and shoving the woadians into an adjacent building, for whatever good it would do them. He bellowed and shouted, shoving the ones that were too slow or shell-shocked to move right away.
"What the fuck is that?" Yang breathed, gritting her teeth as she bore her friends to safety. Their temporary place of rest collapsed behind them, crushing three more of Gamma Platoon. Jorvis cleared himself just in time, scrambling away from the ruin.
The ringing in her ears died away, and the first words she heard were wailing, anguished screams. Rage filled her, her eyes flickering red. Helpless. So fucking helpless.
"What in name of the Golden Throne is going on?!" Someone cried.
"Basilisks!" Jorvis spat.
"We don't have Basilisks!" Caolin cried.
"You bloody fool!" The sergeant said, slapping the back of his helmet. "They're not ours! The guard here's turned traitor!"
"Oh, fuck." Ros said, leaning against the wall. Caolin whispered a prayer. Mael made the sign of the Aquila, a rictus of disgust crawling across his face. The microbead in Yang's ear crackled. Weiss.
"What's going on?"
"The whole place is a trap… Holy Terra, I'm an idiot!" She sounded dazed.
"Weiss?"
"I'm fine, Yang!" The microbead spat. "Now listen carefully. If we don't deal with these Basilisks, we're dead. I need your help." Yang ducked as another salvo landed. Tremors racked the earth as the shells impacted, shooting geysers of sand into the air. A few woadians cried out, pushing their heads between their knees.
"What can I do?"
"I'm swinging by in the Spirit. Be ready."
Barrage. Thunder.
These are not sounds he's used to. The hiss of a paintbrush against an empty canvas, the keening bark of an exitus rifle. These are sounds he is accustomed to. The Lady Inquisitor did not live on the battlefield, did not seek out overt conflict. Now it found itself upon her, the rolling crash of enormous guns singing a song of death. Trooper Yang was still alive though. He could tell that much through the grey haze that coiled in the city, shaken loose by the shelling. She was a beacon, a shock of stunning color amongst the muted rockcrete and desolate sand. Her assault into the city had been glorious to watch. She fought as if possessed with the Spirit of the God-Emperor himself.
But the barrage worried him.
He wasn't ordered to keep her alive. He was ordered to bring her mercy should she fall to chaos. If he did nothing however, the barrage would rend her into paste, incredible skills notwithstanding. The guns were distant, but could fall prey to his rifle all the same. Distance wasn't the issue.
Hesitation. Deliberation.
Defying orders? Not really. The chances that she would turn at all were miniscule, even smaller when framed within the minutes it would take to deal with this threat. The Lady Inquisitor trusted him. His methods were his own.
He shifted around, turning away from the city. The line of Basilisks squatted a few klicks away, defaced by the guardsmen who had turned away from the light of the Emperor.
Disgusting. Abhorrent.
And very, very dead. His ammunition wasn't plentiful enough to destroy all of them, but he could slacken their pace by a good deal.
He began his prayer to the machine-spirit within his exitus rifle, beseeching it to aid him in his task. His lips quivered with the incantation, the words silent underneath his stark white skull mask. The litanies kept his mind focused. He did not need to say them. They just helped.
His aim was perfect regardless.
"And with His wrath guiding my hand, so shall it be." He finished, stilling his heart. His finger squeezed the trigger, and death filled his ears. The butt kicked against his shoulder, the rifle whining and hissing. It spilled smoke as the casing ejected.
A turbo-penetrator round struck its target, piercing through the Basilisk's metal hull, piercing the traitor who sat within and piercing the ammo cache at the rear of the vehicle. It went up like a promethium factory, spewing fire from its long barrel, which cracked and bent under the unremitting heat.
"The Emperor grant you Absolution." Another round entered the rifle, locked into a place by a practiced hand. He readjusted his aim, the scope hovering over the next mobile battery piece. Through his scope, he saw the confusion of the enemy.
Disorganization. Fear.
He smiled, his shining teeth lost to the world. Click, the trigger snapped. BOOM, the rifle roared. "The Emperor grant you Absolution." Amat said. He watched the fruits of his talents blossom into gouts of cleansing flame.
Soon, his sights would center once more upon Trooper Yang Xiao Long. But for now, he relished in the simplicity of his task. He was doing good works in the name of the Emperor. And by the Golden Throne, it was fun.
Yang leapt up to accept Weiss' gauntleted hand, climbing aboard the back of the In My Spirit. Its engine spat and gurgled, greedily sucking down fuel. Shells hammered the city, screaming steel rain that shook the earth with unrelenting force.
"Sergeant Jorvis!" Weiss cried. "Grab your men and whoever else you can find and get them the hell out the city! I've ordered a general withdrawal to the outskirts. Report to Capitan Lyrasson as soon as possible!"
Jorvis saluted, hand hovering over his metal eye.
"Your will be done, my Lady!"
"And for the sake of the Emperor, do it quickly!" Weiss said.
"Stay safe!" Yang called to her friends, who waved back.
"You too!" Ros yelled, wincing in pain from her wound. Yang watched them duck back into their paltry cover, watching her ride away. She felt bad leaving them in such a shit-storm. Be careful guys. She thought. We already lost Rhain today. Her fist clenched, nails biting into the flesh of her palm. If I had only been paying better attention!
Weiss put hand on her shoulder.
"Calm yourself, Yang. Your eyes." Yang took a deep breath through her tunic, trying not to inhale the dry miasma churned up by the column of tanks.
"I… lost a friend in the ambush." She explained, looking out towards the wasteland beyond the city.
"I'm sorry. I'm partially to blame. I should have known this place was a trap. Outplayed and outmaneuvered." Her fingers curled around the hatch of the Spirit, metal crumpling under her touch. "We need to find out how they fell so fast. I feel a sinister hand in all of this." Yang shivered.
"You're right. This whole city seems… alive some how. Like it's breathing down my neck. Almost like my aura flaring up. But different." Weiss nodded, retrieving a pair of binoculars from within her duster.
"It's your psychic power at work." She peered through the lenses, grimacing as she did so. "We'll discuss it once we've left." Yang looked at her friend the Inquisitor.
"Alright." They sat in silence for a while. Weiss' brow furrowed in thought, her lip gnawed bloody by pondering. "Where are your guards?"
"They're unwell." Weiss said, clearly unwilling to discuss the topic further. Yang tried something else.
"You know, I think I'd like to hear happened on Remnant. After… you know." She sniffed. "I left." Weiss looked up from her musings.
"I'd be happy to tell you, again, after we've left Jala Prime." She sighed, removing the binoculars and tucking them back into their place. "I can tell you this though: it is not a happy tale."
"So Ruby died for nothing?" Weiss' measured calm fractured for a moment, before the Inquisitor sealed the gaps once more.
"No. I… exaggerated. It's just… your funeral was not the last one I attended." The ludicrous nature of the statement made Yang laugh. Her funeral. Weiss went to her funeral. They stuffed my body in a box, buried me, and now we're riding into battle together, like it didn't even happen.
"I'm sure we can talk about it later. I assume we're on our way to kick some ass?" Weiss paused before replying, her fingers kneading her temples. Another brace of shells landed, well behind them now. They were almost clear of the city.
"Sorry. Head's killing me. I had to deal with some unpleasant business."
"Daemons." Yang answered immediately. She did not know exactly how she knew it. The word came from nowhere, a creeping sensation that had buried itself in her mind ever since the blinding flash of her migrane had assaulted her.
"I… yes." Despite her pain, Weiss gave her a small grin. "Let me guess… just a feeling?" Yang nodded. "You're a very powerful psyker. Once we get off Jala Prime, we'll start your lessons for real. For now, you need to keep your impulses and emotions under control."
"So we are going to go kick some ass." Weiss checked her pistol, looking over the blocky, esoteric edges and fluttering purity seals.
"Yes. We are. But if you lose yourself to your rage, Basilisks will be the least of our troubles. Promise me that won't happen." The desperation in her eyes gave Yang pause. She slapped her friend on her shoulder, hand ringing against the polished ceramite plates.
"I promise." She said, smiling.
"Good. In truth, we are not pursuing the Basilisk. That task lies with Lieutenant Varo and his armor. We are going to find their leader. I need to interrogate him."
"So… I can't break his face?"
"No. Not until I'm done with him."
"And how will I know which one is their leader?" Weiss scoffed.
"They're always the largest, the grossest, or the loudest of their ilk. That's how heretics are." Yang laughed, although her friend's faith set termites crawling under her skin. She dismissed her friend's faith, pushing the thought to the back of her mind. For now, she was looking forward to the next fight. After lamenting her uselessness under the barrage, it felt good riding out to meet the enemy. Hope Gamma's doing alright.
Weiss spoke into her microbead, ordering the tanks into chevron formation.
"Here we go, Yang. Stay low to the Spirit, and keep your aura up. If one of those Basilisks decides to shoot at us instead of the city…"
"Kablooie. I get it." She unsheathed her power sword, activating the blade with a tap of its activation rune. The weapon sprung to life, hissing with destructive force. Punching things was always fun, but the sword was growing on her. Weiss did the same, drawing her sleeker, double-edged sword while her lips quivered in prayer.
Deceptively nimble for such blocky vehicles, the elodian armor approached the first line of Basilisks. Yang's nose wrinkled. Even with the speed of their advance whipping at her hair, the rank corruption of the traitors' vehicles reached her nostrils. Burnt oil, ozone, and the iron stench of blood clouded the air, accompanied by the curdling sweet smell of death.
The Spirit fired, shaking the two friends to their bones. The rank stench of cordite filled their nostrils, and one of the Basilisks crumpled under the force of the blow. Shrapnel filled the air, scattering before a blooming orange fireball.
"ALL RIGHT!" Yang bellowed, shaking her sword at the enemy. Weiss smiled, head shaking under her wide-brimmed hat.
"Now Yang, remember: their leader, he lives. Everyone else dies. Let your aura loose. Don't worry about anyone seeing you." Yang grinned, smashing her fists together.
"Ice Queen, you have no idea how long I've been waiting to do just that." The column spread apart, each of the ten tanks buffeting the artillery batteries with a salvo of triumphant fire. The noise was tremendous, but each cannon sounded glorious to Yang.
They crested a small dune, revealing an advancing column of troops, disembarking from mutilated Chimeras. At least two hundred traitor guard stormed forward to support their artillery pieces. Light grey fatigues rippled in the wind, their faces occluded by thick leather masks. Horrid symbols crawled over their clothes, their weapons bearing scrap-welded bayonets. There were a lot of troops.
"I can't sense their Colonel." Weiss mumbled. "I don't think he's with them."
"Can't just leave 'em alone though." Yang said, cocking Ember Celica. "How about Freezerburn, for old times' sake?" Weiss laughed.
"Let's do it." Crouching low on the turret of the Spirit, she activated her microbead. "Lieutenant Varo, be advised, myself and my Representative are engaging the heretic infantry on foot. Hunt down all traitor Basilisks, and await further instruction."
"Let's do it." Yang said. I'm grinning like a dork, no doubt. She thought. It feels so good to fight alongside Weiss again. It let her forget the other events of today. They leapt off the tank, rolling to a stop before the advancing infantry. A cloud of dust swirled behind them, as grey as their fatigues.
Spotting the two women, the front line opened fire. Scorching hot las-fire hissed past them, hardly daunting their long strides. Weiss' lips hissed a prayer, and she pointed underneath the troopers. With a whiff of ozone, an enormous ice-blue glyph spun into existence under their feet, freezing into a solid mass of ice. Yang's jaw fell open. The glyph-spell was almost six hundred yards wide and riddled with icy spires, well above anything Weiss… above anyone was capable of on Remnant. She didn't even use her dust! Is this what a psyker can do? Color me impressed, Weiss. Guess this means I'll have to try just as hard.
"Your turn, Yang." Wasting no time to obey, Yang launched herself into the air with Ember Celica, flying higher and higher with each consecutive blast. She soared above the enemy, dozens of feet high, dancing between the crimson las-storm that filled the air, seeking her death. At the apex of her ascent, she fell, accelerating herself to lightning speeds with her aura. Channeling her aura into her power sword, her hair burst into flames, her eyes glowed crimson, and Yang struck the center of the ice with all her might.
It exploded. Shards of glassy ice ripped into the closest chaos forces with unrelenting fury. The traitors fell apart under the barrage, sliced apart by thousands upon thousands of razor sharp fragments, bursting into a blood mist. Her aura boiled the rest of the ice away, blinding the entire chaos cadre with a cloud of steam. Her microbead crackled.
"Yang, get out of there!" Weiss said. She wanted to stay, hack the survivors apart with her sword, smash them apart with Ember Celica, but she heeded her friend's words. With a leaping bound and blast of her aura, she was skidding across the sand next to Weiss.
"What's up?" She said, panting. Using aura so recklessly was her strong suit, tiring though it was. And not since the traitor marine had she poured so much of it into an attack.
"Well," she said, hoisting her inferno pistol, "let's have some target practice." Yang smiled, and unslung her lasgun. "Just start shooting, you're bound to hit something." The cloud of vapor was lifting quickly under the sun's relentless heat, but it was much too thick for the chaos soldiers to see through.
They opened fire, pouring red lances of light and orange melta blasts into the cloud. Explosions and clouds of ash-grey sand issued forth, accompanied by panicked screaming. Yang emptied her lasgun's one hundred and fifty shots in seconds, hammering the trigger until the barrel belched inert gas. Ejecting the power cell, she slammed a fresh one in, resuming her scathing sweep of las-fire.
Weiss' shots were slower, but each hiss-crackle-BOOM of the inferno pistol sent cultist fragments scattering across the desert. The sound of the elodian armor cutting apart the Basilisks echoed behind them, great flowers of flame blooming across the sand.
The last of the ice-mist faded away, revealing the scattered and broken remains of the traitorous infantry. Only twenty-odd soldiers remained. Blood and black pits of burnt sand littered the ground where two hundred men once stood.
"We make a great team, don't we?" Yang said. Weiss nodded. "How did you make that huge ice-glyph without any dust?" Weiss kneaded the bridge of her nose, looking out over the survivors. "Let me guess… later?"
"Correct. Sorry." Weiss said with a small smile. She lifted an arm to point at one of the survivors. "We have more important matters to attend to. We need that Capitan."
"How can you tell he's a captain?"
"The spiked helmet." Yang squinted. It does look rather pointy. "He could know where his colonel is." The man in question stumbled and tried to pick up his chainsword, dazed by the sudden, furious assault.
Rushing forward, Yang dispatched his comrades with ease. The Captain struggled miserably, swinging his weapon around at Weiss. With a quick thrust of horror that stabbed itself into her heart, Yang thought the blow was going to land.
It didn't.
Weiss caught the whirring chain-blade with her palm, her snow-white aura halting the blade in its place. She crushed the blade between her fingers. The Captain's eyes went wide with fear. Her hand swung around, wholly enveloping his face.
"Forfeit your mind." The traitor guard screamed behind his mask, arms flailing and jittering as Weiss ransacked his soul. A seal on one of his breathing tubes burst, spilling orange ichor onto the thirsting sands. She smashed his head in, letting the corpse flop to the ground.
"Anything good?"
"I got what I wanted, but it's not good news. Their Colonel is going to arrive soon, with a few tanks and the rest of the PDF close behind."
"I say we nab him and bomb the shit out of them from orbit." Yang didn't know how many more 'Freezerburns' of that size she had left in her.
"That's the plan. I'll have Ira order the withdrawal. Watch that ridge." Weiss replied, pointing at a tall dune around a mile away. Yang nodded, cracking her neck and reloading her lasgun. The smoking battlefield sat around her, the scent of decay filling the air.
Yeesh. She couldn't remember fighting like this on Remnant. Never so many, and never so much death. Kicking over a body, she could see why citizens of the Imperium found it so easy to dehumanize their enemies. One corpse bore melting ice-wounds, his face twisted into a corvid shape. The mutations these men bore went far beyond the natural features of the Faunus. Beyond anything that should be worn by mortal skin. In Remnant, there was always some level of humanity to those she'd fought. Here, things were just... different. It's a place where nightmares live, slobbering and thirsting for blood in every single heart that prayed to foul, unimaginable, but very real gods. She shuddered.
The last of the basilisks died, crushed under the constant barrages of the elodian armor. They had tried to flee, but could not escape the more maneuverable elodians.
A rumbling in the distance pulled her from her thoughts. The enemy had arrived.
"Weiss!" Yang said, pointing towards the armor that rumbled closer. One tank was adorned with miscellaneous trophies and covered in grotesque appendages. Broken crab-limbs, inky black feathers, and hoofed human legs sprouted from the hull, stunted and writhing. It disgusted her, but Yang was willing to bet that's where the Colonel was.
"Right! Lieutenant Varo, we have incoming. Direct all fire to the enemy armor, and do not, I repeat, do not destroy the lead tank!"
Yang readied herself for the counter attack. The purring engines of the allied armor grew louder as the tanks approached, barrels burnt black from use.
"Open fire!" Once again, the deafening cracks of cannon-fire pounded into her ears, throaty and gut-churning. Returning shells soared past them, striking the desert in clouds of grey sand.
"Weiss, what's your plan?"
"Stand back." Her power armor whirred as she stepped forward, directly in the path of the incoming tank. Boots black as sin and lined in pure silver dug into the ground, bracing her. Deactivating her sword, she put her weapons away and threw her arms forward.
The air crackled to life, seething with unseen psychic energy. The smell of ozone returned, now rank and cloying. This is the warp. Yang realized. This is what it feels like. Her shoulder grew warm under her sand-and-sweat stained pauldron, faint tinges of gold light shining through the tunic.
Weiss' hands split, pulling against an invisible force. The colonel's abhorrent tank split in half, thick steel plates peeling away like dead skin. Its engine, freed of its housing, fell to the earth as it spewed flames and spat fuel. Its treads snapped under the force, stalling the tank in place and exposing the crew.
Releasing her hold on the warp, Weiss swayed from the effort of the spell. Catching her, Yang let loose a breath she didn't know she'd been holding.
"If…" Deep breath, "You'd be so kind, Yang." Weiss said, gesturing at the tank. Two trails of blood leaked from her nose, staining her lips.
"Easy, Weiss. Take a breather. I'll get the bastard." Approaching the wreck, the crew cognizant enough to pull weapons on her fired. Only two rounds landed, and she shrugged off both with her aura. Her lasgun hissed, silencing the crew. The Colonel himself backed into the burning wreckage of the tank, scrambling away from the golden-haired soldier before him. His flesh was breaking out in fish scales, while weeping lesions spilled black ichor into his writing scale-skin.
Almost choking on the scent, Yang grabbed him by his collar. He started to say something, but she punched him in the face before he could form the words.
"That's for Rhain, asshole." She kicked him in the groin for good measure. Scooping him up again (and holding him at arm's length, lest he befoul her hair), she carried him over to Weiss. "One traitorous fuckwit, as ordered." She threw him to the ground, grinding his face into the sand with the heel of her boot. Around them, the battle still raged, tanks exchanging fire as clouds of dust rolled over the dunes.
"I won't say anything to the likes of you!" The man said. His voice was unnatural, like the sound of flesh sloughing off under the press of sandpaper. "Go fuck your precious corpse-god, whore!" He screeched. Weiss laughed, the sound as spritely as it had been on Remnant.
"Truly, you are the stupidest creature your dark masters have sent my way. Do you know who I am?"
"Some withered cunt who's come crawling out of her hole?" He spat.
"Wrong answer." Weiss said, smashing his rotting teeth in with her foot. He spat black fluid, leaking broken ivory onto the sand. "I am the Lady Inquisitor."At that, his rheumy eyes spread wide open. Panic took him, causing him to flail and thrash under Yang's hold. "And you are sorely mistaken about what's going to happen next. I am not going to ask you questions. I am not going to interrogate you. I am going to take what I want. Don't blabber on about your loyalty." She met his gaze for a full second before rubbing smiling. "I've already taken everything useful from you."
"Wh-what?" He mewled. "N-no that's impossible!" Weiss' power sword pierced his heart, and he died. Yang let loose a long breath. Finally. Dealt with. She was glad it was over, but watching Weiss work was… unsettling.
"Did he know anything?" Weiss' eyes darted back and forth, and she chewed her lip again.
"Quite a bit. I… hold on. It's a lot." Yang nodded, handing her canteen to her beleaguered friend. "Thanks." She said, drinking deep. "It seems one of Abaddon's Warlords has slipped past the Cadian defenses. He has designs that could tip the scale of the Thirteenth Crusade in the arch-foe's favor… handily."
"Say what now?" Yang asked. That sounded bad. Very bad. Weiss didn't answer at once, instead pushing her microbead into her ear.
"Lieutenant Varo, get us out of here! We're pulling out! Back to the landers ASAP!"
"Weiss what's going on?"
"His name is Josephus the Corruptor… damn it, I should have figured!" She turned to Yang, who wore a blank look. "He is a plot-seeder, possessed with an unnatural charisma and a domineering mind. No doubt he is behind the chaos tearing apart the Segmentum." Weiss paused, wiping at the blood that streamed from her nose. "I should have known. I just didn't know he was capable of operating on such a huge scale."
"And how is he supposed to help Abaddon?" Yang asked.
"From what I can tell, he plans to drown the kasrs of Cadia under billions of black-hearted converts. And I think I know where he's headed next." Weiss looked up, meeting Yang's eyes, desperation and exhaustion dulling the bright blue irises. Yang clapped a hand over her sizable shoulder pauldron, doing her best to lift her friend's spirits.
"Well, let's go kick his ass!" Weiss shook her head, a smile reaching her lips.
"Dolt."
They hitched a ride on the Spirit, riding back to the LZ with all available haste. As they neared the city, they passed a small hill, and for some reason, Yang thought she could feel a pair of eyes paring her apart. All of this psyker business was getting to her.
A/N: And thus concludes the Jala Prime campaign! It was short, yes, but the Lady Inquisitor works fast! (Her telepathy helps!)
Hope you enjoyed Yang Wess kicking ass together. As you can see, there's a definite relationship between aura and psychic ability, but we'll leave the specifics for later.
As for Weiss getting tired, I figured she's upper beta-level, she could tear apart a tank with her mind. But combined with that enormous ice-glyph, she'd start to 'feel the burn' so to speak.
Also, quick note about Amat's "paintbrush" comment: it's how he prays, much like how monks dedicate their lives to illuminated manuscripts or orthodox nuns to triptychs.
Review Replies:
giodan: Who's Chang? lol Oh, and I hope the ice today made up for it! :D
DanAbnettFan1997: Agreed!
biolaj1998: It was just a passing reference! XD
Dom380: I'm so thrilled you're liking the story! I can't comment on Blake, but if you have a theory, go put it up on the WMG thread on the TV Tropes page!
undead3: I am fully aware what PDF are like, I was just making fun of myself for having such a predictable "twist"! Haha These guys were a bit fodder-ish, in case that wasn't apparent. However, not all PDF regiments are as weak as them... this is the Imperium after all, there's no such thing as a standard of quality! And about Amat, I thought I explained his purpose at the end of chapter 11. He's there to kill Yang if she falls to chaos.
OBSERVER01: Yeah, they wrecked the shit out them, didn't they?
Mintskittle: Your questions will be answered. Don't worry though, I don't do cheap drama! XD. And yes, ork!Ruby is hilarious.
Gafgar: Hahaha I'm pumped you like the story so much! I'm having a blast writing it!
reality deviant: Thanks!
Yoshtar: Her lack-of-glyphs were all saved up for this! Hope you enjoyed! And yes, see undead3's reply for my thoughts on PDF haha
coduss: You did! I don't think the Emperor's getting a text-to-speech device anytime soon. I couldn't do the concept justice! And Weiss didn't order a hit, she's having Amat keep over-watch on Yang, making sure she doesn't get up to any chaos shenanigans.
Nemris: Weiss use of a power sword will be addressed. Glad you're liking the story!
Hypothetical Spiritual Entity: Hooray, a new fan! So glad to have you! I try to keep the aspects of both 40k and the RWBY personalities in balance here. It's a lot of work, but it appears to be paying off! Thanks again!
I can't tell you much about next chapter, except that you guys are gonna lose your fucking shit. ;)